“You need to eat.”

  Nadeden pushes the food aside as the chanting outside grows louder.

  “I’m not hungry.” She mutters, resting her head on the wall. The crowd gathered above shakes the very stone she’s found herself buried in.

  Gelmidas leans on the wooden door outside her cell. “Do you want to talk?”

  “What’s there to talk about?” Nadeden’s voice is ft, indifferent, and most of all defeated.

  “I just thought that you might have had questions.”

  Nadeden scoffs at Gelmidas’s vain attempt to comfort her. “Questions? I know what you did. You couldn’t live with your mistake, so you used the heads to bring Adamus back.” She moves her head off the trembling wall and onto her firm knees. “It’s simple enough.”

  Gelmidas lifts himself off the door, carefully sighing, “You’re right, Nadeden. Everything that happened back then was one big mistake that I wish I could take back.”

  Nadeden holds in contemptuous ughter as she scowls. “Well, I’m gd one of us said it.”

  “Adamus wasn’t a mistake, though,” Gelmidas states under his breath as he wipes his gsses. Nadeden lifts her head.

  “Is he…” No. That’s not right, she shouldn’t ask that. Adamus is probably processing a lot right now, and his disappearance did enough to keep his parents from pursuing him. A more fitting question would be, “Was he happy?” She asks before crifying, “Living here, I mean.”

  Gelmidas pces his gsses back on, adjusting them beneath the weight of his crown. “He was.” Nadeden lets the words linger and ring in her ears.

  She allows herself a smile. “That’s good. He definitely did look happy…” She lets her resentment slip free as she chuckles, “So… What’s the story with him and that Republic girl?”

  Gelmidas ughs, “It was supposed to be a political marriage.”

  Nadeden pnts her head back on her knees. It was a foolish question. Adamus is the son of the Emperor of the Division. That title no doubt comes with certain responsibilities and certain sacrifices.

  “He did agree to it,” Gelmidas assures her. “And he doesn’t care for politics in the same way Davon and I did.”

  The mention of Davon makes Nadeden’s stomach churn. She can still see the corpse in her mind’s eye. “I buried him.”

  “What?”

  “Davon,” Nadeden states. “After he died. I buried him… I just wanted you to know that.”

  “Oh…” Gelmidas puts some more distance between himself and the door. He clears his throat and little else. “I see.”

  Nadeden remains silent. Her eye now falls to the food lying in the puddle of unknown origin.

  Gelmidas thinks of stepping away, but his legs seem to have other ideas. They’re as nervous and unsteady as they were back then. He can still feel the sand of Quandroiz beneath his feet.

  “That kid, you were with…” Gelmidas centers himself as he speaks. “What’s the story there?”

  Nadeden doesn’t even try to resist smiling. “A long one, Gelmidas…”

  Her eye falls back on the wall. “A very long one.”

  The whole city of Rome seems to gather under Smith as they grip the pebble in their scarred palm.

  The ends of Nadeden’s bandana flow in the heavy wind, the bag of blood poking into their skin flutters with it.

  If the marching protestors cared enough to look up, they would find the sight odder than any of the wild political notions that spiral inside their heads. Yet the presence of the crowd worries Smith more than anything that Mystic just told them.

  Everyone in this city looks like they’re out for blood. Smith fears that blood may very well be theirs, or more likely, Nadeden’s.

  Smith was afraid that she would be captured. They weren’t surprised when they learned that she was, but the fear fell over them all the same.

  There has to be some way to save her now. To get both of them off this pnet together. Despite everything Mystic said, helping Nadeden remains Smith’s top priority.

  They’ve been reunited with their siblings, sure. They’re grateful for that. Grateful for the fact that they aren’t alone anymore, but at the same time, if there really is another Machinist in Rome, Smith has to question not only why they are hiding, but what Mystic and Anvil are hiding as well.

  If there is one thing that Smith can be sure of after speaking to Mystic, it’s the fact that her intentions are less than noble.

  They hold Granix’s pebble tighter. “Looks like we’re gonna be here for a while,” They sigh as someone walks up behind them.

  “Who are you talking to?” Cassandra asks as she leans on the railing beside Smith.

  “No one,” Smith huffs, pcing the pebble back in their pocket. “I never thanked you for covering for me back at the coliseum.”

  “No, need to,” Cassandra states, gazing down at the swirling mass of bodies below. “But if you don’t mind me asking, why did you have that jacket?”

  Smith shrugs. “Nadeden thought that it might be useful, and it was.”

  Cassandra lights up at the mention of Nadeden. She hops away from the railing and would stay bouncing if she could. “How did you even meet her? I mean, it’s just unbelievable to me. Is she really as relentless as everyone says? You watched her fire that arrow, right? How did she get so good at archery? What camp are you in when it comes to her name? I like the Pyre interpretation, but the ghost one is just so unique!”

  Smith’s head is spinning, and it isn’t just from the blood loss.

  Cassandra has become an entirely different person at the mention of Nadeden. She’s shooting out words faster than any arrow and speaking so enthusiastically that any rational person might think she’s gone delirious.

  Smitch can only manage an “Uh…” before Cassandra regains herself. “Sorry. I’m uh… well, I’m a big fan of hers.”

  “Nadeden has fans?” Smith says without thinking.

  Cassandra holds out her arms, as if to weigh her hands. “Kind of? I mean, I consider myself one at least.”

  Smith squints, asking as politely as they can manage, “Why?”

  Cassandra stuffs her palms in her pockets. Her long, dark hair blows against her face, shielding it. “The Scorched Archer walks through fire, even under the shadow of death itself. She was born in blood and fire, and has lived in it for her entire life. I’m…”

  She bites her lip, looking back down to the people below. “I’m not like them. I’ve never understood how to fit in the way everyone else is so effortlessly able to. That, and I haven’t exactly had the best luck in life. When I was younger, Nadeden was the only person I could see myself in. She didn’t care about getting along with people or being seen as a freak. She wasn’t pretty or funny; she was just someone fighting to make it through the day. I guess I just…”

  She leans back onto the railing, her hands fall out of her pockets, and her hair colpses over her shoulders. “I wanted to be like that.”

  Smith doesn’t know what to say. Part of them understands, but part of them also understands Nadeden. The only thing that they don’t understand is how someone can admire her, even knowing every horrible act she’s done.

  Do I admire her? Smith wonders, unable to come up with an answer.

  “You want to know something really stupid?” Cassandra rambles on without caring if Smith is listening. “For a long time, I thought she was my Mother. At least I hoped she was. My Father told me that my real Mother died in childbirth, but I didn’t want to believe him, especially after Vanessa snatched us up. I hoped that it all had been one big lie to conceal the truth. I mean, Nadeden doesn’t have a st name, so why couldn’t it have been mine?”

  She rests her head on her palms. “I guess I just wanted to be special. But, Adamus is the fucking chosen one apparently, even though he’s-”

  “A monster.” Smith scowls, clutching a fist as they recall their fight st night.

  Not only was Adamus powerful, he knew he was powerful. He was practically showing off as he forced Smith to push themself to the limit.

  Smith didn’t want to kill Adamus. He is Nadeden’s son after all. But Adamus was holding back as well. He was barely even trying. The beast did all the work for him, and Admaus hardly broke a sweat.

  If the pair were to ever meet again, it would take everything Smith has to even hope for survival.

  “I was going to say he’s an asshole.” Cassandra smiles, bringing Smith back to reality. “But monster works too. Quite literally, actually.”

  Smith returns Cassandra’s smile. However, they quickly grow serious. “Do you think that thing inside of him is the Rusting, or could it actually be Adamus himself?”

  “Gods, I’m still trying to wrap my head around it. I honestly don’t understand half the stuff that comes out of Mystic’s mouth.” Cassandra rubs her temples.

  Smith grips Nadeden’s bandana as the loose cloth smacks into their arm. “Nadeden and I came here to kill Gelmidas. She wanted him dead because she thought he killed Adamus. I wanted him dead because he made the Rusting. Now that Adamus is alive and probably tied to the Rusting, I just don’t know what to do…”

  “You came here to kill Gelmidas? Why, my Smith, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say that you’re finally starting to understand how the universe works.”

  Mystic’s sudden appearance startles both Smith and Cassandra.

  She takes a bite out of a pastry and hops up onto the railing. Smith gres at the frosted wafer as Mystic dangles her feet over the city.

  “Oh,” She raises the wafer to Smith’s mouth. “Want it? It may help your blood sugar.”

  Smith slowly backs away from Mystic.

  “Whatever, your loss.” Cassandra remains fixed at the railing as Mystic eats the wafer whole. “I must say eating is by far the best human experience I’ve partaken in. Now back to what you said, my Smith. If you really did intend to exact revenge on Gelmidas, I assume you took what I told you back on that ship to heart?”

  Cassandra keeps her eye on Mystic as she asks Smith, “What’s she talking about?”

  “Smith is, or rather was, a pacifist.” Mystic blurts out before Smith can speak.

  “They held the firm belief that all life is precious, even the life of someone like Gelmidas, or even your dearly loathed Vanessa Soryu.”

  “I never said that!” Smith retorts over the noise rising from the street.

  Cassandra and Mystic both study them, easily sensing not only the hypocrisy but the denial in the statement.

  “How could you know Nadeden so well and still deny that some people deserve to die?” Cassandra folds her arms.

  Mystic snaps her fingers, vanishing from the railing to materialize at Smith’s feet. “She makes a fair point. Nadeden has killed a lot of people, and if you call someone like her a friend, that goes against everything you stand for, does it not?”

  “She’s not my friend,” Smith mutters.

  “Then what is she?” Mystic wonders.

  Cassandra begins to make her way back to the steep stairs leading down to the attic.

  Smith cws at the bandana again. The bandana on the hand that has to be theirs. “I don’t know.”

  “She’s the Scorched Archer,” Cassandra states on the edge of the stairs, her breath still and certain. “She doesn’t need anyone.”

  She steps into the darkness as Mystic stares up at Smith. “She may have a point.”

  She prepares to snap her fingers.

  “Wait,” Smith urges her.

  “What is it?” Mystic sighs, fed up with Smith’s naivety.

  “I saw the Forge.”

  Mystic is left speechless by Smith’s statement. It certainly expins this sudden change that she’s seen in them. But at the same time, Mystic knows that this isn’t just about the fate of their people. Something else is bothering Smith.

  “I couldn’t cry, Mystic. I couldn't weep for the dead even when I looked at all that death.”

  Mystic only shrugs. “That’s it? That’s what’s bothering you?”

  Smith winces. “Well, among other things.”

  Mystic simply smiles. “We aren’t human, Smith. We simply might not be able to cry. Don’t let it get to you.” She snaps her fingers and disappears.

  Smith tugs on the bandana one st time. The fabric tightens around their wound as they gaze at the Division Pza that rests at the center of Rome. The near-infinite gss on the spire reflects their face, even though they stand a great distance away from it.

  It’s waiting for them.

  She’s waiting for them.

  Smith tears the needle out of their skin and tosses the blood bag aside before walking down into the attic to join the others.

  If Smith had stayed on the balcony just a second longer, they would have seen a Bioship making its way across the sky.

  It is the very Bioship that Vanessa is waiting for at the Spaceport.

  The people of Rome all scream out at the sight of it.

  “Why would someone be making pnetfall now?”

  “Gelmidas is pnning to escape!”

  “It’s the Soryu’s, they’re the ones leaving! They’re the cowards!”

  “It’s military reinforcements they’re going to restore order!”

  Vanessa can’t help but let a sly smirk creep across her lips once she hears that st rumor echo outside the spaceport.

  The man has gotten close to the truth, but he’s missed the mark. What has come to Rome is indeed a form of order, but Vanessa has learned that order can only be born from chaos.

  The Ship nds in front of her. Her cape blows gracefully in the strong wind behind her as the ship’s skin clutches the wooden nding pad. Its hangar door opens with a thud, and the prisoner inside is led out.

  Vanessa bows. “Welcome to Rome, Lady Triminiv.”

  “Spare me your theatrics, child.” Triminiv’s voice is ghastly, but its neutral tone hides the bite of disdain.

  Vanessa rises. “I apologize, Lady Elf. I meant no offense. Loeb, if you would.”

  Loeb steps forward to free Triminiv of her bonds.

  Sinmartin puts himself between Loeb and the Elf. “What do you think you’re doing? She’s a prisoner!”

  Vanessa waves the low-ranking officer aside. “Be that as it may. Triminiv is also a historical figure, a walking legend. She is not a woman to be trifled with, and I’m honestly quite surprised that she went along with all of this voluntarily. Yet I am eternally grateful for her doing so.”

  Sinmartin looks on in disbelief and disgust as Loeb frees Triminiv from her pstic wire shackles. Triminiv stretches and twists her wrists where the cuffs have sat for far too long.

  Her eyes search the Spaceport far and wide before her voice grows harsh and forceful. “Where’s Gelmidas?”

  The power wrings the truth out of Vanessa with little hesitation. “I want you to kill him.”

  She clears her throat once the effect wears off. “Well, in a manner of speaking, we’ll kill him. You see, my Lady Elf, I have gone to great lengths to ensure what is about to happen in the coming hours.”

  She reaches a hand out to Triminiv. “And you are going to help me.”

  Triminiv smacks Vanessa’s palm away, stating in a spectral hush, “I came here to face judgment.”

  Vanessa reassures her, “You will.” She signals for the guards to take Triminiv away.

  However, she holds back Loeb and his men.

  “You remember what we spoke of?”

  Loeb nods.

  Vanessa looks to each of the men of her personal guard, making sure they see her gnce at each of them before she hands something to Loeb.

  She steps into the Bioship’s hangar so that the dozen men who have provided her security and protection for all these years can gaze at her one st time.

  “You all have served me well. The Republic thanks you. My family thanks you… I thank you.”

  She removes her beret and holds it over her heart. The men gasp at the gesture.

  “Yes. What I am about to ask you to do is not something I ask you to do as your President, but hopefully as your friend. And…” She doesn’t even attempt to hide the sorrow in her voice as she tries to find the words.

  “I do mean that. I hope that I am your friend. Loeb will tell you the pn after you break the atmosphere. I have never been one for goodbyes, so I’ll just say this…”

  She pces the beret back on her head. The bck tassel threatens to cover her eyes. “I’ll see you all again. One way or another.”

  Her entire guard gives her one st salute as she leaves the spaceport behind.

  For the first time since Vanessa Soryu became President of the Republic, she finds herself holding back tears.

  It has to happen, she tells herself as she watches the ship fly off. There is no one I trust more than them, except for-

  “Adamus?”

  The rickety old door swings open.

  A young woman dressed in clothing that is far too revealing stands in the doorway. She sizes up the man in front of her.

  He seems familiar, but she’s unable to pce his face.

  “Who’s asking?” Seno scoffs, preparing to sm the door shut.

  “A friend.”

  Seno rolls her eyes at the vague remark. She slowly slides the door shut.

  The man scrambles to stop her. “No! No! Wait!”

  The door closes on him.

  Seno yawns and returns to her bed. “There was someone here to see you. That means it’s your turn to keep watch.”

  She flops down onto the mattress, disturbing the lump beneath the sheets. Seno shuts her eyes and begins to make herself comfortable until she realizes that the lump is still there.

  “You’re being a child.”

  The lump rises up from the bnkets and tosses them aside. “You’re not the one whose entire life is built on a lie,” Adamus huffs, only to fall back on the bed.

  Seno kicks him.

  Adamus doesn’t even flinch.

  “Gods, would you suck it up!” Seno shakes Adamus in a fit of rage. “Your Mother is a bitch, so what? Plenty of people have bitch Mothers, you aren’t special, Adamus!”

  He does nothing but groan and turn onto his side.

  “You know I only let you stay here because I felt sorry for you, right?” Seno sneers. “Think about that. You. I felt sorry for you. Even after you treated me like shit.”

  She pokes a finger into his scorched back. “If anything, I’m the idiot here.”

  “You’re not an idiot, Seno,” Adamus whispers as he tugs on his lone bracer. The beast is kicking under it. It wasn’t satisfied by the fight st night. It wants more. It craves more.

  Adamus turns himself ft on the mattress to look upon Seno. “I’m sorry you ever met me.”

  Seno smiles and swiftly kisses him. “That is the single sexiest thing you have ever told me.”

  “Great…” Adamus stifles on awkward ughter. “Even when I’m mopping, I’m irresistible.” Seno scowls at his egotistical comment. The urge to sp him morphs into the urge to kiss him one st time before the couple hears another knock at the door.

  Seno is the first to stand. “I swear if it’s that weird-looking man again…”

  Adamus leaps to his feet. “If he’s pale with dark eyes, I want to speak to him. He was the one who had-”

  “Davon’s Jacket, I know, I know.” Seno sighs, opening the door again.

  Adamus peers into the doorway, his eyes widen at the man outside. He quickly rushes out to greet him. “Mr. Soryu?”

  Tendo nods. “We need to talk, Adamus. Something…”

  He wipes away tears.

  “Something’s happened to your Father.”

  Exiled_From_Earth