“How come you never told me?”

  “You think that I knew you would be able to do that? I didn’t even know that your Father was one of us until I met him myself.”

  “Ryomen said that you should have known. He said that when Machinists reproduce—”

  “Oh, Cassandra, for the love of—” Mystic tosses her hands up and sms them onto her p, “Did Ryomen really tell you that Machinists fuck each other’s gears until a metal baby pops out? The man is maniputing you!”

  Cassandra rolls her eyes at Mystic and crosses her arms. She can’t deny that Ryomen is definitely up to something.

  When she began to sing for him, she felt nothing but anxious, but slowly those words had drifted around her with the sound of her Violin and turned into something that seemed real. Tangible even.

  Then she dropped to the floor and felt nothing but terror as Ryomen began to tell her how it was possible to do what she had just done.

  Cassandra knew that Triminiv had been born with simir abilities and had become famous for them, but she never would have guessed that those powers came from a Machinist builder, and she certainly never thought that she would ever hold such power herself.

  Smith had said something about Triminiv’s powers being simir to those of a builder, but Mystic, Anvil, and Cassandra all simply thought that it was some fluke of nature.

  Ryomen, on the other hand, made the cim that Triminiv was born with her power for the same reason Cassandra now had hers.

  She had inherited it from Machinist parents.

  Cassandra rushed to Mystic with the information.

  Now what she thought was a shocking revetion has become a heated argument.

  “Ryomen never said that you reproduced in your metal bodies, you idiot."

  “And Consciousness transfer devices didn’t exist until the humans spread them throughout the universe, you idiot,” Mystic rubs her eyes as she mutters, “How could Triminiv have Machinist parents? She was born long before the humans and martians left their original sor system.”

  Cassandra has to admit that fw in Ryomen’s logic.

  He’s hiding something, the thought irks Cassandra. Everyone’s keeping secrets from me.

  Ryomen had suggested that the reason Tendo fathered Cassandra was because he knew she would be born with at least some sort of Machinist ability.

  “Think of how infamous the Elf of Death is. How lonely she was,” He had said, “What kind of Father would want that kind of life for his child? Can you imagine it, being the st of your kind and having a power you don’t understand, drifting endlessly and never belonging anywhere?”

  It wasn’t difficult to imagine.

  I have never felt like I belonged anywhere a day in my life, Cassandra tells herself as she demands of Mystic, “Well, how do you think Triminiv got her powers then? How do you think I got mine?”

  Mystic hops down from the railing in the small, yet somehow still pompous, ship hangar and looks up at Cassandra to say, “I don’t know.”

  “What do you mean you don’t know?” Cassandra is furious. She’s sick of people always keeping things from her. If Mystic is lying, she’ll—

  “I mean, I don’t know!” Mystic shouts as frustrated as Cassandra.

  “I truly don’t know, Cassandra,” She lets out a long-winded sigh, “Maybe you do have powers because your Father was a Machinist, maybe Tendo secretly pnned all of this to make you a superweapon or something of the like. I simply don’t know, alright? I don’t know everything. I don’t even know where my Smith is.”

  Mystic’s hands crash down to her sides and enter her pockets.

  Cassandra hadn’t considered that Mystic is just as clueless as she is. The fact that her and Anvil still haven’t been able to find Smith is concerning as well.

  The stress has gotten to Cassandra, yet she has been so caught up in that stress that she didn’t notice a simir feeling consuming Mystic as well.

  “I’m sorry,” Cassandra states as calmly as she can. Her nerves are still coming down from the high of the past few hours.

  Mystic no doubt needs time to rex as well.

  “I’m sorry too,” The girl says with visible remorse before smiling, “Can I see you use your abilities at least?”

  Cassandra shrugs, unsure of herself, “I mean, when I first did it, it was by accident. At least I think it was, Ryomen asked me to sing and—”

  “And you don’t want to sing for me?”

  Cassandra allows herself a chuckle and a sly smirk, “Because I’m a terrible singer, Mystic.”

  “Ah, yes, of course,” Mystic ughs, “A magical voice powerful enough to lift objects, I’m sure it sounds terrible.”

  “It does.”

  “I’m being sarcastic, Cassandra.”

  “I knew that,” She says despite not knowing that. It is then that she decides on a compromise. “How about I whistle instead? That’s bound to do something right?”

  “It’s worth a try,” Mystic hops back onto the railing and points at a toolbench. “Be sure to aim at that, though. It’d be a shame if you ripped my head off instead.”

  “I wouldn’t do that.”

  Mystic stares at her bnkly.

  “On purpose,” Cassandra crifies, “I wouldn’t do that on purpose.”

  “Yes, I figured,” Mystic grins as Cassandra aims her mouth at the toolbench and purses her lips.

  Alright, she thinks as she presses her fingers to her mouth, I can do this. I still don’t understand it, but I can do it.

  I’ve done it before, after all.

  I just have to go back there, to the pce I first got that energy from. I should be able to channel it, right?

  If I just focus and…

  Cassandra contorts her fingers so that they both point toward the bench and press on her lips as she blows out a soft whistle.

  The air rings with the sound of it.

  Her lips and tongue curl with the heat of her breath.

  But nothing happens.

  The toolbench is still standing.

  Mystic’s blue eyes turn to Cassandra in judgement, “Were you pulling my leg earlier?”

  “No… No, I wasn’t.” Cassandra stumbles out the words in confusion. She could hardly believe that she had abilities, and now she can hardly believe that her demonstration of them didn’t work.

  How is that possible? She wonders. How was I even able to use those abilities before? Wait. Am I only able to do stuff like that while singing? She’s both embarrassed and disappointed by the possibility of that likely being the case. Thankfully, she does not have to dwell on that possibility for very long.

  “Have you found Smith yet?” Anvil asks upon entering the hangar.

  “No,” Mystic says with a low sigh, “At this point, I think it’s very possible that they did run out on us.”

  “Well, they were very eager to pursue Adamus,” Cassandra adds.

  Anvil crosses his wide arms and leans against the railing that Mystic sits on. “I just don’t think that they would leave us so suddenly like that.”

  Mystic thinks for a moment, nibbling on a fingernail as she states, “Yes, they should have at least announced they were leaving or at least given some indication that they would abandon us. But you are forgetting, my Anvil, that the Smith we’ve been traveling with is young and obviously grew fond of the Scorched Archer during their short time together. It is quite possible that we may not know them as well as we think we do.”

  Cassandra finds herself agreeing with Mystic.

  Smith has always been distant from the rest of their group.

  However, she can’t help but feel just as distant, and can’t help but ask, “If we know that they pnned on going to Tethaseele, why can’t you just teleport us over there? If we’re fast enough, we can find them before Vanessa does.”

  “And what if we’re not fast enough, Cassandra?” Mystic huffs, annoyed, “When I open a portal, I need a precise idea of where it's going, otherwise it will just open within the general vicinity of where I want it. That’s why I couldn’t just bring us straight to Ryomen Kaga when we arrived here, and why we spent so much time wandering around aimlessly on Ourobeel. If I do take us to Tethaseele, we’ll still be aimlessly searching for Smith, just like we’ve been doing here. The only difference is that we’d be in enemy territory, surrounded by Martians and your overbearing parents.”

  Cassandra shrugs, “Well, they’re a little more than overbearing. Vanessa alone would probably have you both kill—” A terrible thought suddenly enters her mind.

  “What if Kaga killed Smith?”

  The two Machinists shift their gaze to her and scowl. “That’s a question that I need answered immediately.” Mystic leaps down from the railing. Anvil unfolds his arms and stands firm, summoning a spear from a scar on his chest as Mystic snaps her fingers and takes the trio directly to the main club room.

  They find it empty of all but furniture.

  “Ryomen!” Mystic calls out to no answer.

  Cassandra looks over the room to no avail. However, her efforts do lead her back to the cracked stage where she left her violin. She carefully picks it up and begins to examine it.

  Could it be possible that… Her thoughts fade as she draws a note out across the strings with her bow.

  The stage cracks further with the vibration.

  Anvil and Mystic look to Cassandra as she smiles.

  A loud cpping then enters the room and echoes throughout it as two hawks nd on the stage.

  “My friends!” Ryomen joyously yells, “I see that Cassandra has shown you her gift as well.”

  Mystic lunges at Ryomen.

  The man dodges and ughs, “What is the issue, child? Are you not as happy as I am? This is cause for celebration, not—”

  “Did you kill my Smith?” Mystic asks with a growl.

  Kaga appears to be taken aback. He pces a hand to his moustached lip, muttering, “Oh my, why would you accuse me of such a dreadful thing?”

  “Because we can’t find them,” Anvil points the iron spear at Ryomen, who cps his hands again, but this time sternly instead of joyously.

  “Then perhaps they really did leave for this pnet that you said they were already pnning to go to. There is no need to point such accusations at me, and there’s no need to point such pointy things at me either.”

  Cassandra points her violin bow at Kaga, “I’m starting to get sick of your games. Do you know where our friend has gone, yes or no?”

  Ryomen pces his ringed hands behind him and begins to walk backward toward the bar. “My dear Cassandra, you don’t know what you’re doing. You can’t really care so much about this Machinist that you would dare to—”

  Cassandra presses her bow to her violin. She does not know if what she pns to do will work, but she certainly hopes that it will. She wants it to.

  Ryomen Kaga sees the threat and sighs, “Your Father will be so disappointed that things went this way.”

  He jumps behind the bar as the hawks throw themselves at Cassandra and tear her violin from her hands.

  Mystic and Anvil rush at the bar, ready to attack.

  A Lungozas bursts from behind the liquor cabinet with their tentacles out and captures both of the Machinists in their grasp.

  Ryomen rises, ughing, “Alright! You got me! I did kill your friend, but luckily for you, Cassandra, I need you alive. You’re special, see? So, so special.”

  A wide-toothed grin crosses his face as he grabs Cassandra by the chin. The hawks are still cwing at her skin as Kaga tells her, “Your friends aren’t, though. None of the Machinists are. That’s what your daddy dearest had to find out the hard way.”

  He smacks her across the face and turns to Mystic and Anvil.

  “All metal must die. That is the truth of the Rusting. The truth your God gave to the universe.”

  His eyes narrow, growing cold as he whispers, “One.”

  Cassandra screams.