Taylor’s chest burned, though not from the fire clinging to her head and neck—though every floating spark made her want to claw it off—but from the sheer terror gnawing at her ribs.
What if Armsmaster didn’t believe her? What if he thought she was lying, some villain in disguise, or worse, another monster that needed to be put down before it harmed anybody?
He already had his halberd leveled at her, mouth pressed in a thin line, and visor reflecting firelight. Behind that mirrored screen, she couldn’t see his eyes, and couldn’t tell if he saw her as a victim or as a threat. So one wrong move, one wrong word, and she could imagine it: her rocky body shattered in one deadly strike, nothing but fragments steaming on the street.
But silence wasn’t an option either. She had to say something, anything to stop this from spiraling further out of control, or he’d make the choice for her.
Her throat tightened as she tried, “I—” but the flames around her head surged in a sudden flare. Taylor froze, horrified. She hadn’t meant to do that. Was her body rebelling against her? No. It made some sense, but that couldn't be it. More likely, it was responding to her fear. Despite what she thought, it seemed the fire wasn’t separate from her. It was her, and her emotions fueled it whether she wanted them to or not.
She clenched her rocky fists, tried to force a breath past the tightness in her throat, and tried again.
“I’m not…” Her voice quivered, strange and gravelly now, not her own but still recognizably female. “I’m not a bad person. I’m just… a girl. A normal girl. I—I followed the capsule when it landed, and then this happened.”
Her words carried down the empty street, the only sound besides the hiss of her flames.
For the first time, Armsmaster’s stance shifted. He didn’t lower his weapon, but the halberd’s tip wavered by a fraction, enough for Taylor to see the gears turning behind his visor.
“The capsule,” he said at last, tone even. “It’s open. What was inside it?”
Taylor’s stomach sank. That was the question, wasn’t it? If he didn’t believe her now, she was doomed. But lying would only make things worse. So she swallowed hard, fire dimming with her nervousness, and prepared to tell the truth that honestly sounded insane even to her own ears.
“…A watch,” she admitted.
That earned a pause from Armsmaster, the corner of his mouth curling down into a frown, as he processed her words. Then, he turned his head to the side, towards the crater where the capsule sat, servo motors whirring faintly with the movement.
“A watch,” he repeated, flat with disbelief.
“Yeah,” Taylor rushed to continue before he could dismiss it. “It—it didn’t look like a normal watch. And it had even jumped onto my hand, but when I pressed a button, the top part popped up into this… it was kind of a tower. And there was this… silhouette of something. No, of this creature, I think.” She gestured helplessly to herself, remembering that her proportions seemed to match the silhouette’s. “I thought it was just some projection or something, but then I pushed it down… and when I opened my eyes, I was like this.”
Armsmaster didn’t move, and didn't speak, but she felt the intensity of his focus on her. His gauntleted hand flexed minutely on the halberd, as though considering tools or restraints. But instead of attacking, he thankfully raised the weapon and pointed—not threateningly, but still intentionally—toward her chest.
“That watch?” he asked.
Taylor followed his gaze down. The faceplate of the device was still affixed snugly against the rocky plating of her body, glowing with that telltale green light.
“Yeah,” she said, quietly now.
Armsmaster was silent for several seconds, but when his voice came, it had lost the edge of command. It was lower now, thoughtful in a way that chilled her.
“A portable transformative technology that can effectively rewrite DNA.” His words were muttered, more to himself than to her. “If your account is accurate, this would be the most advanced Tinkertech known to exist on Earth Bet. It is… unprecedented.”
Taylor hugged her arms close, suddenly hyperaware of how alien she must look to him. She wasn’t just a scared girl anymore, but something else. Someone tied to a device undeniably valuable.
She tried to steady her voice as she spoke. “It’s not just one creature, either. I think… I think it can do more.”
That got his attention. His head snapped back toward her, halberd angling a fraction higher again. “Explain.”
“The… the dial,” she said quickly, pointing carefully at the faceplate. “It turns. I didn’t notice at first, but when I was fiddling with it, it rotated in place. So there could be… other silhouettes. More monsters—” she choked on the word, “—I could turn into.”
Armsmaster’s visor stayed locked on Taylor, but she didn’t need to see his face to know he was thinking what she was:
If this watch could really transform someone into different creatures, it was a weapon—or a miracle—beyond anything the Protectorate had ever encountered.
But none of that mattered to her at the moment. None of that solved the immediate, crushing problem for Taylor.
She looked down at her glowing hands, and flexed them helplessly, slight heat shimmering off her in waves. “I’m still stuck like this,” she whispered.
And above them, far higher than either could see without aid, the Simurgh screamed.