Rustic Tart

I have noticed that there's an absolute dearth of humans surrounding original work and serials on Tumblr, and bots swarm in their place. I have seen authors despair over it and empathised with their struggles. My advice is twofold.

Block bots (shocking I know)

Block accounts as soon as you see them with "reads" in the name, and anyone offering beta services. If likes and comments are hidden, that is an immediate red flag. Follows are often done in bulk according to API keys. If their actions are clustered and every comment follows the same format, such as the same question being posted every time, feel free to block. You still keep the like. 😉

Do for others what you want for yourself (even if it doesn't come back)

Other humans need to read original work as well. I try to read what I come across but I have limited time in the day and I am one of few humans compared to many bots. I would love a sense of community, but when I comment on everyone else's work and no one comes back, it is incredibly demoralising.

We must work together to lift each other up and feel like a home. People will not come unless you go out. People may also not come if you go out, but then that is a failure of social contract and an indictment of current customs.

Self Promo, for I am not an altruistic saint

On a related note, I am serialising a slow burn F/F sci-fantasy. It can be read beginning here, or on AO3. I will include both on my posts.

Original image by AdinaVoicu.

One has an ascot, a fracturing self and gravity magic. The other has golden armour, repression, and light and dark magic.

Both women are nobles and both have something to hide. Both realise that they're more honest around the other without meaning to be.

I also have a prequel, which can be read on AO3.

Graphic design is my passion. So is writing.

Sincerely,

The lift opened out directly into level 10. The metal double doors in front of us had already been crushed and crumpled in on themselves. Everyone was outfitted in full suits and suppression mode to combat the environmental danger. We magic-users would be less effective in combat.

As we approached what was once a set of doors, Teigra almost looked proud of herself, her hips swaying as she stepped forward with her hands outstretched.

“My previous containment still holds, then. Not for long. Suppression fields down, then right back up as soon as I am finished.”

We all switched off with a command. The headache finally abated, and Teigra straightened herself up.

“Oh, and cover your ears, dears. Perhaps train your weapons on whatever horrors lie ahead that may emerge.”

Uncrumpling metal screeched through the small space as Teigra exercised her magic. Rusty cried out and was taken to his knees as my own ears were splitting. Horatius and Lado held up their rifles as orcal began to crawl through the space. Huge sheets of metal suddenly crumpled inwards under Teigra’s magic, killing two orcal and turning them into a paste. Rusty recovered and started firing, too, glancing back at Teigra for a moment.

“Fields up,” said Horatius, and we all reactivated our fields. Teigra ran back to behind me, and I held up my shield to defend us both. An orcal roared at us, and I thrust my spear straight into its mouth. It collapsed onto the floor.

The double doors opened up into a large walkway suspended above a series of shining, silver vats lying in a large drop below. That must have been the pure form of kainophage. Turrets were fixed to the ceiling, lying dormant and untouched for years. Olynna only knew if they still worked.

My stomach churned as I looked over the edge. I worried about a possible fall, if Teigra were to lose control again.

“Your skills should be enough to operate the terminal, Quintus,” said Teigra. “If we connect, then I can translate for you.”

Lado nodded, and his red eye flared at the suggestion. “Which terminal?”

“Uncertain.”

I jumped as more orcal jumped out from the vats. They were soaked from head to toe in the silver fluid, dripping and flinging it everywhere as they swung at us. Rusty was delayed in his reaction, and blurred shapes grabbed at him as my own suppression affected me. Lado shoved his sniper rifle into its maw, and it bit him, sinking clean through his armour.

I speared another and flung it down over the railing to the depths, breaking its back and killing it. Rusty sprayed his gun, while Horatius was more disciplined in his fire. Teigra pulled out her pistol and started firing. A final orcal attacked Teigra, who shoved her hand into its maw and fired up, killing it instantly. Its tooth scraped harmlessly against her tactical suit.

We all lowered our weapons, apart from Teigra, who was pointing at Lado.

“Your suppressor failed, Quintus,” she said. He held his hands up and shook his head.

“It - it did. But I wasn’t expecting to get -”

“We leave now, or I must shoot you.”

My heart skipped. Her eyes were – it was the original. The woman who I’d thought was delicate and vulnerable, proposing that we kill Lado. He was shaking, holding his hands up. Silver veins were streaking across them.

“I was just trying to save Rusty.”

Rusty shook his head and swallowed as Teigra aimed for Lado’s head, walking towards him.

“Then I am sorry that becoming an orcal is your reward for heroism, darling. I can grant you Haillyn’s mercy.”

That couldn’t have been true. Was she lying?

Lado’s eyes flicked to me. He was sweating. “Sophia – I just need some hypostims, right?”

Of course. That must have been it. I started running towards him, trying to reach him before this transformation took hold. If I could use magic, turn off my field –

“Sophia, no!” Teigra yelled.

I was dragged back violently by an unseen force, launching me backwards towards the rest of the squad. I landed with a thud against my back, agony shooting through me. My stomach dropped as I looked at her, how resolute she was with her gun still trained on Lado. She hadn’t hesitated for a moment before attacking me.

Horatius marched up to Teigra, whose hand was limp and, according to the readout, broken.

“You just assaulted my second,” he spat. Teigra didn’t look at him, and she took the shot that would end Lado’s life with her pistol.

She missed, the recoil aggravating her hand as she doubled over.

“Agent, what are you–” I yelled, but then Lado locked eyes with me one last time. The red eye died out. Cold curdled in my stomach.

The transformation was immediate. He grew in size, skin and armour breaking open into bloody redness, and his cybernetics folded into the red carapace, kainophage surging through his mutated body. Olynna save him. Horatius and Rusty both lowered their weapons, stepping backwards. Then he – it – roared, and the loud chorus of orcal yells began again.

“Retreat,” Teigra ordered, and Horatius picked me up, throwing me forward into a run. We all ran as more orcal descended upon what used to be Lado, and it directed them towards us. My heart was thudding and there were tears in my eyes as we kept running, tasting blood in my throat, as Horatius and Rusty fired blindly into the fray behind them. We covered the remaining distance.

At a gap in the metal, which everyone else had noticed, Rusty tripped just before we reached the entranceway.

He started shooting, but he had run out of ammo as his gun clicked. I lunged with my spear towards it, and skewered it.

My heart stopped as one grabbed him by the leg and started to drag him. He cried out, his hands starting to turn blue. Olynna, no. There had to be another way, Horatius didn’t know. He could report him.

“Rusty –” I called, then every single turret turned and began to fire upon it, tearing it to shreds.

Rusty’s hands had blue traces surrounding them as they obeyed his will, firing upon every one of them except the one that had once been Lado. He pulled me behind the double doors, and Horatius let loose a final salvo before he, too, ran out of ammo.

“Fields down,” he yelled, and we dropped them. Teigra held up her hands and crumpled the double doors into a heap again. There was a loud crack as her arm broke and she suddenly fell to the floor. Rusty caught her as she fainted.

“Fuck, it looks broken,” he said, looking at her arm. “It’s all funky at the elbow.”

I gathered her over my shoulders, handling her carefully. I didn’t know which Teigra would wake up.

We boarded the lift. The first few floors ascending was a stony silence. Rusty was shifting on the balls of his feet. I didn’t need to see his face to know that he was biting his lips and tearing up.

Horatius looked furious at both Teigra and Rusty, but he turned his ire onto Rusty. “You were a teknos mage and never told anyone?”

Rusty held up his hands and glanced at me. He wouldn’t dare.

“I – I am, sir. It’s never usually an issue, sir.”

Horatius pushed him back against the wall. “Olym’s fucking taint. You’re a liability, Ruso. You could have killed us if you hadn’t controlled it.”

“But I did control –”

“That’s enough. Save it until we’re out of here.”

Horatius backed off, and Rusty walked to the other side of the cargo lift. He took off his helmet and shook out his hair. He was crying, which he faced the wall to hide from me as soon as he realised I was watching.

This failure left one important element unaddressed.

“We didn’t even fix the terminals,” I said. Horatius cursed, and Rusty rubbed his hands together as he looked down.

“I – I could –”

Horatius shook his head. “Absolutely not. The Agent has already sealed the place. It stays as is. We come back another day, with a better fucking plan. One that won’t kill my two other men and make the commanding officer faint.”

I was awake again. What was just going on? Syra was gesturing towards me, and she was irritated, while Sophia had her arms folded, her lips pursed. What had I done? I had been reading the note from Sophia, then I faded. I panicked at not being able to see it immediately. I opened the drawer. The Eidolon had kept it safe, next to the scalpel and antiseptic wipes. I closed the drawer again and sighed, relief washing over me. I didn’t feel as if I’d cut myself. My arms weren’t aching. The Eidolon never did that, anyway. Just me. 

“Just forget rank and ‘propriety’ right now, Lurco. I need some whiskey in me and a night off,” said Syra, as she picked up her bag and patted a flustered looking Sophia on the shoulder. 

I relaxed as I looked at Sophia and her gorgeous waistcoat, even as she was holding her hands up and protesting. I was holding an empty glass.

“This is a huge risk –”

Syra tutted. “Yeah, and you came anyway, kid. Look, I saw Ducas leave, no one in this entire Hub is going to rat you out, I promise.”

Sophia looked at the empty glass in my hands. I felt buzzed. I must have had at least two glasses quickly enough to bypass the poison filtration.

“We're both doctors, patient needs help, get to it. See you around,” said Syra.

She quickly bowed out of my office before Sophia could say anything further. The door closed and left us alone in the silence. My heart was pounding. Sophia cleared her throat.

“I have been assigned to supervise you as part of a wellness check by Doctor – Syra,” she finished, catching herself, as we were both on a first name basis with her. Her heart was elevated, her hands pinned behind her back as if they were bound. Oh, Rheah, why was I thinking like that? I didn’t want that for her. Perhaps for her to do it to me, to erase what–

No, I couldn’t entertain such things. More drink.

“May I offer you a Honsian vintage, Sophia?” I asked. 

She shook her head. “I couldn’t possibly. I’m just here to watch over you.”

Yes, like a handler. The mahogany on my desk was suddenly incredibly interesting to me.

His breath was still hot against my neck and his hand searing through the fabric of my thigh. But Sophia had noticed, and she had saved me. If she hadn’t been there–

“You’ve had enough.”

My hand was on the wine bottle, reaching for a third glass. I hardly realised I was doing it. Sophia’s hand was warm on my wrist, her eyes wide and with that now familiar worry. I didn’t want her to let me go. I craved her protection. I also, foolishly, had no idea if she was attracted to other women.

“Of course,” I said, loosening my fingers as Sophia pulled her own hand away. The blotter was smooth beneath my hands as I trailed them across the surface, breathing out. For Rheah’s sake, my priorities were completely off-kilter. I was fantasising about being rescued by a woman I barely knew. I supposed, however, that it had happened with Syra. With more vulgarity.

Sophia checked her watch, a sleek golden chain link style.

“Hour twenty-one,” she said. “Have you eaten?”

It seemed that I had been drinking on an empty stomach, so that must also have contributed to the buzz that I was feeling, the shaking hands and sluggish perception. I shook my head.

She looked almost relieved as she nodded. “Then we’ll eat.”

“Fabulous, darling. A change of scenery will do us both some good,” I said, flipping open my pocket mirror and checking my hair – a mess – and face. The smoky-eye had mercifully held, though I reapplied my red lipstick quickly and began to retie my hair up into the proper chignon. Clumsily. My hands were uncooperative.

Sophia blinked at me. Her hand was on the door. So impatient.

“We are only going to the food court,” she said.

“I need to be prepared for a public appearance, my dear,” I said, settling on a low bun. 

Her eyes widened and she gestured emphatically. “It’s twenty-one at night. No one will be there.”

I’d never eaten with Sophia before, and my heart was fluttering as I slid the note with her beautiful handwriting into my pocket. 

“The vendors will be, Sophia.”

The short journey to the food court was taken with a few polite words and avoided eye contact as Sophia helped me to limp along and my body burned where her arm touched me. I had asked what Sophia was having, she responded with steak. I told her a salad would suit me fine, and a steak would help her to maintain her muscular figure. She told me she needed large amounts of protein, and then turned back to me. She looked me up and down, her eyes catching on the ascot for a moment.

“You need more calories than a salad. You’re drunk, and – and distressed,” she said, and stopped at the counter of Colton’s Pitstop. He was still awake, but reading a newspaper, and smiled when he saw me.

“Well, if it ain’t the mutant hylan,” he said, tipping his ten-gallon hat as he turned to put his apron back on. Sophia mouthed the words back at me, and I motioned behind us, at the table. She nodded and he turned back around, hands on the counter.

“What can I get both of y’all?”

“A grilled steak with all the trimmings and a loaded baked potato with chilli, and two glasses of white wine,” I said, and turned over the thirty five rands. Sophia’s jaw dropped.

“Agent –”

“Not public funds, Sophia,” I said, cutting her short. “It all comes from my spy network.”

Colton laughed as he wagged his bony finger at me. “I know you ain't a spy, silly girl. You got me good with that one the first time.”

I fluttered my eyelashes at him. “I'm ever the comedienne.”

“I'll bring it over to ya since it's quiet,” he said.

We both found a booth and sat opposite each other. Sophia was busying herself with a packet of salt, reading the ingredients. She seemed disappointed when it was, indeed, salt. I looked up at the pipes on the ceiling and began to count the amount of rivets I could see. The numbers faded into each other, then there was only static in my mind.

It was a long few minutes before she spoke, having exhausted every possible point of interest while I stared at the pipes. 

“Mutant hylan?” She asked. My tether back to Phylakion. 

I chuckled. “I told him that my fangs and slightly pointed ears were from a terrible disease known as gullibitis. He understood my plight immediately.”

Sophia's brow furrowed. “You called him gullible to his face and he still believed you?”

“He'll believe whatever he wants as long as the woman he fancies is ‘one of the good ones’, and just a poor ‘mutant hylan’.”

I smiled as I spoke, and Sophia chuckled at the absurdity, but the thought of being an object again sent shivers down my spine.

Silence fell between us for a few moments. Sophia was leaning her head on her hands, her elbows on the table, as she watched for Colton to arrive with our food. Her eyes were watchful, scanning the rest of the environment. There were a few others, but no one who would cause any bother.

“It's the other you tonight, isn't it?” She asked, her voice soft but still not looking at me. “The original.”

“Yes, darling.”

Her head tilted to look at me. “Then were you there for Du–”

“Don't.”

The force of my voice surprised us both. Sophia’s eyes were wide and her lips slightly parted. I swallowed and forced a smile, twirling the loose strands of hair at the front around my finger. 

“I would rather not discuss such unpleasant encounters, Sophia.”

“I apologise. I need only to know the signs.”

Of course. I was a patient and your superior.

Colton came at that moment, with a big tray, putting the plates and glasses of wine down and handing us cutlery. “Enjoy, ladies.”

We both thanked him, and I pushed the potato towards Sophia and sipped my wine. She looked at me incredulously.

“You need to eat. I can't possibly eat that amount of food.”

I smirked and gestured with my wine glass. “Why not, darling? You need to stay strong, do you not?”

Sophia sipped at her own wine, licking her lips and giving a heavy sigh. 

Then my glass was snatched from my loose grip and poured out onto the floor, and placed back onto the table so carefully.

She pushed the potato over to me and began to eat her steak as if she had done nothing at all.

I squeezed my thighs together against delicious heat. Oh, Rheah hide me.

“Eat,” she said, her voice dangerously gentle.

My eyes were wide and my hands shaking as I cut into the potato, bringing a mouthful of starch and chilli into my mouth.

A pleasant spice.

“You had best try to sleep,” Sophia said. “Let’s make you more comfortable.”

The food had helped somewhat, but I was still quite uncoordinated.

She took off her shoes and placed them alongside my own, which she had assisted me with, inside the entranceway. She came back through my red and black damask, clashing slightly in her sapphire and silver waistcoat. Despite the colour clash, she looked like she belonged in my parlour. Then she sat next to me on the sofa again, looking at my corset, lined with magenta and black in colour.

“Your outer corset is too tight to sleep in. I saw that you have a Jeeves model. It ought to be able to assist you.”

The robot was, tragically, slumped in the corner in its station. A smile crept upon my lips.

“Robot is having its weekly charging day, darling. Could I trouble you?”

Sophia’s lips became a thin line, then she nodded. “Turn around, then.”

I did, and Sophia was slow. With her, it wasn’t demeaning. My body had been piloted through so many encounters with men and women, and I had memories of more than I wished for. Clothes being torn off and cast aside. My ascot being one of the first to go, my body sick without it. It was choking me.

She was almost reverent in her care. The pressure on my waist loosened, and Sophia placed it on the couch next to her. The warmth growing between my legs was genuine. Unfortunate that my body would sully such tender care with these disgusting thoughts and feelings.

“How’s your ascot?” Sophia asked. “It looks tight.”

“It is.”

“Shall I?”

I nodded, then she pulled it down from the front, careful with the silk. Her eyes were focused entirely on the task, not meeting mine as she trailed the silk through her fingers slowly. The ascot was unwrapped from around my throat, but I didn’t have the nausea that normally accompanied its absence.

Sophia folded it and placed it on the coffee table. “How are you feeling, now?”

Unbearably aroused. Disgusted. Safe with her. “Comfortable, darling.”

The worry faded from her eyes just slightly. 

“Good,” she said. “I will be staying with you for the night.”

I bit my lip against a filthy smile, and placed my chin upon my hand instead. “That really isn’t necessa–”

“I believe it is,” she said. She didn’t raise her voice. She didn’t need to.

I thought back to Syra’s initial rescue. She had been so elaborate in her demands of me, so frustrated, and yelling at me. Understandably so, since I had argued until I could no longer. I was less differentiated back then. I spoke with the language of the Eidolon, even through my own mouth.

Sophia was quiet and confident. She left no room for argument or performance. And this part of me was finding itself yielding.

“Then may we watch something together?” I asked. “I find my mind is loud, at the moment.”

She looked confused, and shrugged. 

“Of course.”

The white wine had loosened her up just a touch. She may well have said no if she were perfectly sober.

I used my teknos magic to turn on the television. It was twenty-two hours, so Romance of the Three Houses was just starting. Excellent. Some desperate, overwrought television to enjoy before sleep.

I tried to undo my hair, but my hands were fumbling at the pins and one had gotten crossed over another. Scoffing in frustration, I surrendered to sleeping in a messy chignon forever.

“Should I?” Sophia asked.

“Please, darling.”

Her fingers brushed against the crown of my head as they loosened pins, carefully. On screen, Toutius Pontio was declaring his undying love for Hestia Aggrandio. Philon Manneus was a very wooden actor, but Rheah strike me down, he was gorgeous.

“You’re very gentle, Sophia,” I said. She made a small sound, then pulled the last of the pins out. She placed them in the cloth of my ascot, and her pupils dilated when she looked at me again. A trick of the light, I assumed.

We both leaned on opposite armrests as we watched the show quietly. Sophia pulled out her aethercell, but she kept looking up whenever Hestia Aggrandio was on screen. I pulled my legs up to cover the empty space on the red fabric. 

I closed my eyes, and there was a warmth and pressure on my foot as I dropped off.

Iride was on my terminal screen with a folding fan in her pale and slightly aged hand. Her favourite prop in her own performance, just as she had taught me to use a wine glass in my own. Syra was seated in the guest chair on the other side of the desk, her arms folded and listening to the conversation while reading a physical newspaper, a rather idiosyncratic habit of hers.

“Hm, that is rather an inconvenience, my little spider,” Iride said, fanning herself almost absent-mindedly. Raven black hair billowed out behind her. “What was this latest visit about?”

“A lack of data from the Sleeper. He demanded that I expedite it and reproduce the conditions more reliably,” I replied.

Both of them, as usual, were smoking. Iride with a holder and Syra with the cigarette directly, but it was unfortunate that both of the figures that I – no, the host – saw as maternal in different ways shared a – what the host saw as – disgusting habit. Syra had finally learned to use the spinning ashtray for minimal waste.

Iride hummed as she smoked again, thankfully remotely. “Of course, dear. And we know that is rather difficult when the conditions are your… episodes, shall we call them?”

I clenched my jaw. “That is a euphemism that I will settle for, Iride.”

“These episodes, darling, do you know what inspire them? Perhaps they can be controlled and your host personality put to good use. More data, more security for us,” she mused.

Syra’s eyes widened at the suggestion, and the host’s body bristled at the thought. An irrational reaction.

I shook my head. I could only theorise. “Duress, perhaps. The meeting itself was mercifully cut short by the interventions of Doctor Barkley and Sanatrix Lurco.”

“Pfft, it was Sophia in her fucking rom-com under the desk shit that did the hard part. I just showed up to be a nuisance,” Syra said, snapping the newspaper back into rigidity. “Need to put staples in these things, I swear.”

I clenched my jaw and ran my free hand across my desk blotter, then sipped at my wine. Inane chatter. Irrelevant to the objective.

Iride tilted her head, grinning, then chuckled, covering her face with her fan and then fanning herself. “I must note that you've been struggling with subtlety as of late, Teigra. Keeping a Lurco under your desk is perhaps your boldest move yet.”

The host rolled its eyes. “Sanatrix Lurco and I were both caught unawares by Ducas’s visit. There are few other places to hide in my office.”

Both women hummed at the same moment. Syra chuckled to herself, then squinted at the paper.

“Iride, what’s ‘visualised’, four across?”

She barely had to think about it. “Seen, darling.”

“Fuck, of course it is. Thanks.”

I was becoming irritated by these diversions even as the host felt warmth from it. I took a sip of wine.

“Recall the reason for this call, mother, please.”

Iride smirked and fanned herself. “Oh, I have touched a nerve for you to call me mother so curtly. Do you not enjoy that I am making friends? Your father is always saying that I will become an old crone if I don’t expand my horizons –”

“I made this call because I needed to discuss statecraft, Iride. Not the latest crossword.”

My voice was sharper than I intended. Both Iride and Syra stared at me with wide eyes, gawping at me in that disgustingly natural way.

Iride was first to recover. “Of course, dear. But we are not all perfect machines. Some of us are merely hylan and enjoy the company of others.”

She smirked as she said it, trying to provoke that anomalous part of me. It would not work. I merely smiled and agitated the red wine in my glass.

“I have new Sleeper data that I need cleaned of extraneous details, Iride.”

“Ah, of course, my dear. Extraneous, messy, person feelings as you beseech the Sleeper for aid and clarity. It’s all very dramatic and ignoble, isn’t it, Teigra?”

I took a deep breath. The host was making its feelings known, heat rising in my throat and making me want to scream. “Is there a reason that you seek to test me?”

A wicked grin spread across Iride’s face. “A bit of personhood makes for a better spy. If you are inside it, you can understand and control it. And you, my darling, are proving to be quite out of control of your faculties. Especially for an Eidolon.”

I sipped the wine and looked away. The helmet of the armour had rolled next to my foot and onto the rug. A clever bit of improvisation from Sophia – no, Lurco – but one that cost me a valuable suit of armour that held sentimental value. To the host.

The smile dropped as Iride folded her fan shut with a flourish. Her blue eyes became hard. “Ducas will seek to use it against you. Remember that.”

“I am aware. It was the other self that bore the brunt of the meeting with Ducas an hour ago,” I admitted. “It feigned submission and, intriguingly, signalled to Lurco for help.”

Iride nodded, and Syra looked up from her paper, then she thought better of asking.

“Yes, that is intriguing, my little spider. She has a survival instinct, after all. Or perhaps the training was deeply ingrained into both parts of you,” Iride said. I didn’t care to theorise or give the host any undue attention.

“A possibility.”

Iride fanned her face as she smirked. “Oh, what nerves I keep touching. You’re positively sparking, my darling.”

“Yeah, she’s been real fucking moody,” Syra said.

Iride chuckled, then dropped the fan from her face. “Send me the data, and I will strip it of the most interesting parts as usual. You will have it ready to send to the Inquisitor within two hours."

“Thank you, Iride.”

There was a moment where neither of us said anything. Iride inhaled from her cigarette, then blew it back out. Her eyes were looking off-screen as she spoke again.

“I appreciate that you have targeted a Lurco, incidentally. Having an ally so closely tied to our mother house has its advantages. The Lurco and Consoli houses need something more to tie them together than common descension from the Lorencé.”

Syra blew smoke out from her mouth. “All Honsian to me.”

“Please, Syra, darling, let me contact you directly and I will educate you,” Iride said. “You really ought to come to the front of the terminal so we may speak properly.”

“Nah.”

These diversions were fraying my patience. I spoke immediately, before Iride had chance to open her mouth again. “She has pledged herself as an ally, though blindly.”

Iride bit her lip. “Oh, how scandalous. An ignorant ally. Well, we shall see if she will sink or swim. What is her name?”

Syra cut in at that moment, slamming the paper shut. “Oh, no, no, you ain’t doing your creepy spy shit on Soph - fuck.”

Syra’s head fell into her hands as Iride chuckled. “Thank you, Syra. I will investigate Sanatrix Lurco in due course.”

The host’s heart began to pound at the thought, even though it was a sensible idea to ensure that we knew what we could about her. I only had public information, and the secret use of her light magic. Part of me was anticipating what, exactly, Iride would be able to find.

“Goodbye, my little spider. Don’t drink too much wine. It’s not good for your poison filtration.”

She hung up before I could remind her that I was outfitted with the best that the Dikaidian state could buy. She found it difficult to hear that she was wrong.

Syra looked up at the ceiling. “Ah, I really put my foot in it there. Or rather Sophia’s foot in it. What do you think she’s going to dig up?”

The host’s heart was fluttering. I thought tactically, forcing myself into my own brain. My software degradation had become quite severe. I looked down at the note from Sophia, my fingers tracing it for the first time since she left around an hour ago. The host’s brain was flooded with endorphins and dopamine.

I smiled at Syra. “Hidden talents and any unregistered magic – if she has any, of course – would be sensible. We need to determine, darling, what exactly Sophia brings to us tactically.”

“Well, she’s a hell of a doctor, I can tell you that. She knows every medical law there is and more body parts than I do. You know Cletus has 47 STDs that she’s managed to diagnose?”

My smile wore thin. “Entirely extraneous information, my dear.”

The paper was thrust into her lap as Syra threw her hands up at me. “For fuck’s sake, Teigra. Just trying to lighten the fucking mood. You got into trouble and I’m just trying to help you out.”

“That’s hardly necessary, darling. My morale is adequate.”

Cold ran through the host’s shoulders as Syra stomped over to my desk and placed her hands upon it, giving me no room to escape. “I’m getting real fuckin’ sick of this. I have no idea what the fuck you’re going to do at any given moment, and it’s driving me insane.”

My hands began to shake, so I crossed my arm across my chest. Syra saw this, however, and straightened up and took another drag from her cigarette. “Sorry, Teigs, I just… it ain’t easy.”

She drew her aethercell from her pocket and started tapping at it. “It’s like you try to fuckin’ off yourself four months ago and you’re suddenly on about your morale being ‘adequate’? I can’t even leave you alone right now because I don’t know if the second I leave you’re gonna do it again.”

The host was finding it difficult to breathe, but I forced myself to inhale and tilt my head to perform contrition. “I apologise, Syra. I haven’t determined why this body would harm itself. I assure you that when I am in control-”

Syra swiped her arms across each other. “Just stop, okay. You don’t even know what you’re talking about, and you’ve been colder today after – after whatever happened. Iride wasn’t being any more annoying than usual and you looked like you wanted to bite her head off.”

I remained silent. The phantom sensation of Ducas’s hand on my leg persisted.

Syra sighed and put her cell away. “I’ve sent a message to Sophia. She’s gonna come look after you, sod military shit, that prick isn’t here right now. I need a drink.”

Finally, a function. “Can I offer you–”

“No, not yours. For Mennea’s sake, fuck no.”

"You're reporting me as malfunctioning, darling?" she asked, her brow furrowing.

I nodded. "I am. I thought it fair to inform you before I submitted my evidence to the Ordris Sanatrixia and Inquisitor Ducas."

She licked her lips, and then she laughed. It was an unexpected reaction. The Agent then rose from her chair and floated over to me. I took a step backwards on the patterned red rug, my feet touching the metal of the floor below. She was much too close, but I tilted my chin upwards and counted my breaths.

Her smoky makeup framed her hazel eyes as they looked me up and down. "And why would you believe it fair for an Eidolon to know? I am not a person with feelings. You could have reported me right away and I would have been removed in due course."

That question gave me pause. The traces I'd seen of emotion and pain, which should have been impossible for an Eidolon, were diagnostic of a personhood beneath that structure. I suppose they had been what had made me hesitate in having this conversation. If it had been more simple, I would have done this a few weeks ago.

The Agent floated backwards and picked up her glass of red wine from her desk, folding one arm about her chest as she agitated the fluid. She leaned against it, trying to look unbothered while her vitals suggested physiological distress.

"Make your accusation, Sophia. Let us not beat about the bush."

"I have a theory. Not an accusation."

She scoffed. "I should hardly think the semantics matter, darling. They will both result in my death."

"I - I don't understand," I said. "You're an Eidolon. What are you saying? You seem to be experiencing severe software degradation."

The Agent rolled her eyes and gestured with her glass. "My repair efforts are sabotaged by the Inquisitor, darling. I have been performing my duty."

"The Inquisitor would not be permitted to be so arbitrary, ma'am."

The Agent merely smiled, then sipped her wine and continued. "Besides, if you report me, thus will the swooping talons of Ducas descend upon the Hub and consign five thousand people to their deaths."

I shook my head. It wouldn't just be his choice. "The Sanatrixia have the authority to instate another Linnea-class Eidolon under the Eidolon Management Act of 3280. The Hub would be safe."

"Darling, you don't know Ducas. He doesn't care for the populace. He presents as a hero, but he is -"

There was a knock on the door. The Agent froze.

"Here," she whispered. "You need to hide. Now."

"Why? I will not be dishonest. He is our superior and we shall speak openly."

"He would sooner cast you out of the Praetors and the Ordris for meeting privately with me without his oversight. That is not an option, darling," she hissed. Oh, Olynna, it was the other self, that far-away look. I hadn't realised. "Please, Sophia."

The knocking began again, but intensified. Her heart rate was 120BPM and her face had lost all of its composure. There was something that she couldn't tell me, it seemed. There was nowhere immediate to hide.

"The desk," the Agent said, and I dove under it, pressing myself against the wood. There was a small gap for cable management that I could see through. She opened the door and flicked her ruffled waist drop behind her. She used the motion to make sure I could see, then spread her arms towards the Inquisitor.

"Ah, darling, ever a pleasure to see you," she said.

"Eidolon. I believe you know the purpose of my visit," Ducas said.

My heart was pounding and I barely dared to breathe. If they came behind, then I would be exposed. Agent Consoli moved into the centre of the room, floating as if it was a casual meeting.

"Come, darling, you're so uptight," she said. "You are, as ever, performing your role as an Inquisitor valiantly, though it leaves little room for pleasure in life."

His chest puffed out. "Flattery will get you nothing with me, Eidolon. You know what I'm here for."

"Of course, dear. Can I interest you in a Honsian vintage?"

Ducas held his hand up and shook his head. "I must decline. It is not sensible to drink and fly. It would be unfortunate if your baros magic failed you while enjoying a drink."

She turned to face me and made eye contact, her eyes pleading. I shrank away so as not to let Ducas see me. She came towards the hole, and leaned on the desk, blocking it with her open-front overskirt. All I could see was the dark magenta of ruffled silk and mahogany wood in front of me.

Ducas's voice was closer, now. Right above. "The Sleeper data has not been delivered as quickly as the Tsaritsa needs. Why?"

"It is a delicate entity with its own desires. It will only speak to me under certain conditions."

"Then find a way to replicate those conditions consistently," he said. The desk creaked and her fingers reached into the cable management hole. I could make out that she was making a signal like a headset. What could I...? I couldn't call anyone. His body was pushing hers into the desk. Oh, Olynna, no. What could I do? To expose my presence would kill her. That was the word for it. These weren't the vitals of an impassive Eidolon. She was experiencing pure terror.

I covered my mouth as what I assumed was a hand slammed on the desk. My heart was in my throat and I tasted blood. Ducas's voice was far too close. "Remember the consequences of stalled data and that your continued functioning rides on it. I have been more than patient with you, even as other Inquisitors would have reached for decommissioning on the first instance of a delay."

The Agent's drop moved. His legs were pressed against hers. This - this wasn't right. She was experiencing severe nausea as she traced the line of his belt. "Your patience is something I am ever grateful for. My doctor is doing her utmost to stabilise this - this host."

Her doctor. Syra. I pulled out my aethercell and sent a message. 'Inquisitor Ducas is here in person. I'm trapped, Teigra is in danger. Come in to her office suddenly, act normal.'

Then I put it back in my pocket, silenced. It seemed best to use the name that Syra used for her at the time.

"She is not performing her role very well, for you to be so degraded. It is unfortunate that the Saldas Hubos is such a remote location that you can't be repaired reliably."

His hand grazed her leg. I felt bile rising in my throat. What was there to be done? Had this happened before?

I turned around and looked behind me, past the black leather of the chair. There was a spotlight above to the suit of armour. I hoped that she would forgive destruction of priceless artifacts. I held up my left hand and fired a beam. It launched straight into the light, sending it crashing down, and the armour collapsed in a crash of metal and broken electronics. Ducas pulled away from her. I froze as I thought he made eye contact with me, but he must have seen a wire.

"What - what was that?" he asked. He immediately walked over to where I was. The Agent floated over to the chair and pushed it so I was hidden. She nodded at me beneath the table and sat at the chair, reclining in it. She picked up her wine again and sighed.

"It seems the electricals of the Hub have been deeply temperamental once again. Now, regarding the Sleeper data -"

There was a knock at the door with a real force behind it. It then burst open on its hinges. It seemed the Agent hadn't locked it. I was her insurance.

Syra's familiar face appeared, and her thin painted lips dropped open in faux shock as she placed a hand on her chest.

"Oh, forgive me, sir. I was just here to ask how the medical supplies were going. I do hope I ain't interrupting anything."

Her Arigman accent was played up to beyond the point of parody. The Inquisitor launched himself towards the door with long strides.

"I will return at a later date. Enchanted to meet you, ma'am," he said, bowing towards Syra. He left and Syra closed the door behind her. The Agent was staring down at her wine glass, her eyes unfocused again. She barely looked up when Syra came in. Odd. She ought to have been fully cognizant of us.

"Fucking creep," Syra said. Then she squinted at the desk, caught my eye, and laughed. A full, boisterous belly laugh. It was humiliating.

"Oh, no fucking way, Soph. Did Teigs have you under there? You're both ridiculous."

"I assure you, it was not amusing," I said. There was a moment of silence as I cleared my throat for the Agent to let me back up. She was snapped out of her trance, her eyes refocusing as she looked at me. Then she pushed herself back in the chair and I climbed out from under the desk. She was refusing to look at anything but the red wine in her hand.

"Hey, Teigs, you okay?" Syra asked.

She nodded, not looking up. "Just a routine meeting."

"The hell is Sophia doing, saying you're in danger if it's routine?"

I tried to open my mouth to speak, to describe what I'd seen. Though looking at the Agent - at Teigra - I didn't think it would be beneficial to re-litigate it.

"I will inform you later," I said. "Agent?"

"It's Teigra, please," she said. She was still staring at the wine. It looked like blood, and I looked at her arms. Syra would need to stay with her. Teigra closed her eyes and finished the last of her wine in one gulp. Her voice was husky as she spoke again. "Will you still report me, seeing what you have seen, Sophia?"

Syra gave me a withering look. I couldn't, not anymore. It would have been unconscionable in light of such evidence. I gestured towards one of the sticky notes on her desk and a pen. She nodded, and I wrote on it:

'Teigra, I believe you. Aeth: HV374211D - Sophia'

"You have an ally, Agent - Teigra."

I handed it to her, and with it a private channel to me. She stroked my signature with her fingers, her eyes becoming misty. It seemed that - at least with the original self - we were on a first name basis. My heart was finally starting to settle after the adrenaline. I turned to Syra and motioned for her to stay. She nodded.

Teigra cleared her throat and straightened up. "I am heartened that we reached an accord through such difficult circumstances, Sophia. Dismissed."

She was meant to be in that evening, since they'd done their expedition thing the other day, and she was normally early. So in my wisdom, I had decided to roll up to the food court and see if maybe she'd gotten something to eat before her shift and gotten held up in the rush. 

As I was walking past the self-serve drinks, I saw the rest of her squad near there in a booth. Well, that was as good a place as any to start.

"Doctor Syra Barkley. Nice to meet the latest batch of golden buddies," I said, as I reached their booth in the food court. The Praetors were all out of uniform and eating all different food. I was sure that it said something about their personality, but I couldn't read minds from ranch dressing and a few leftover fries and noodles.

They did all recognise me, since they did visit Sophia at the clinic, but they were all chewing on food so couldn't exactly snarf a hello at me.

The hot young one swallowed his very quickly, though, then stood up to shake my hand before the others could even finish. "Rusty Ruso."

"Well, ain't you an enthusiastic young buck?"

Rusty chuckled, tugging at his Henley collar. Ah, old Syra still had it. The boys love a redhead. "I guess so. I think it's only Sophia who's even close to me in age. She's four years older and I'm twenty eight."

He wasn't kidding. Probably still a damn stallion at that age. Tanned, blonde, big blue eyes. A fellow Arigman, probably Northern. Would have preferred another Southerner, but he would have to do. Noted for later. Groovy.

Before I could bring up Arigman whiskey, the moody looking one with a crew cut cleared his throat. He had his arms folded and was still sat at the table with the rest of them. "Agent Consoli mentioned having her own professional. I assume that's you?"

I wondered why she would have had to have mentioned that kind of thing, if that original part of her had given her grief in front of them. Better to have kept my mouth shut, though. 

"Yeah, that's me. She gets me medical supplies for the clinic, and I don't strangle her when she drives me crazy," I said. 

A few polite but unsure chuckles. Yes, guys, you're allowed to find your commander hard to deal with.

Crew-cut stood up to shake my hand. Good firm grip. Damn near broke my hand. Proper Arigman handshake, even if he was Dikaidian.

"Horatius Borsa. Call me Borsa. My sniper is Lado Quintus and, well, I assume you know Sophia."

“Yeah. Stick up her butt,” I smirked. Borsa smiled a little and nodded.

The guy with half of his face replaced by black metal, Lado, stayed leaning back in his chair. He hadn't introduced himself with a handshake or anything, and his red eye was kinda creeping me out. 

I cleared my throat. "I thought Sophia might be with you guys. Is she sick? She's not at the clinic."

Borsa and Lado looked between each other, but Rusty spoke first. 

"She said she needed to see Agent Consoli about something. Needs to check she's okay medically and stuff."

Fuck, I needed a cigarette, but we couldn't smoke in the food court. That didn't sound good, and Iride wouldn't be happy if she found out. Only so much I could do from my end, though, and I didn't want to talk to Teigra's adoptive mother. They were way too alike.

"Cool. Okay. Hey, any of you guys smoke?"

Lado raised his hand and pulled a cig packet out from his jeans. By Mennea, a guy could at least say hello before he started smoking with me. They were Kingsman, a fancy brand. He followed me out into the main corridor, where the ventilation was good enough that you could smoke no problem. People gave the stink-eye if you did it too close to doorways, though.

"There's an alcove near here we can smoke in," I said. "Just look for the cig butts and you'll find it."

We ducked into the dragon's corner, as most people called it for obvious reasons, and butts squished under our feet. What sweet home. Lado lit up and leaned against the wall, and I did the same. Better try and see what the situation was. I waited a few minutes, just enjoying my dart. When I'd smoked half, I decided to talk since Lado wasn't.

"Sophia said you went underground the other day," I started. "Sounded kinda hairy."

I could only see his red eye as he nodded. Really unsettling. "Didn't really see much since it was dark. These orcal swarming all over us. Just a blur."

"Yeah. I bet."

"Though the Agent was on the ceiling for most of it."

"Oh, yeah. She does that. Guess if you're a baros mage then you can give gravity a big ol' 'fuck you'."

Lado smiled and hummed. He took another drag and blew it up to the vent. "Do you know how tough it is to be a sniper and have these fucking things all over you?"

Hm. Not quite the digging I'd been aiming for. "Bet it was a real stinker, huh? What, you asked them to stand back to back or something?"

"Would have done if they spoke Cardinal. Couldn't even use my deck either."

"Oh, you're one of those hackermen."

He nodded, and stamped out his cig. "I am. Seemed odd to me that the Agent didn't want me going after a terminal. Like she forgot. Eidolons don't forget things, do they?"

This one did. I shrugged and smiled sweetly. "Aw, I wouldn't know. I'm just a country bumpkin."

Lado's natural eyebrow raised, but he said nothing. I threw my cig into the dragon's hoard of butts and we walked back into the food court.

Not good. Teigra was already dancing close to the fire as it was, and Sophia had been asking me questions about how often she lost time and acted out of character. I'd batted my eyelashes and ignored every one, obviously. Teigra was my patient, not hers. Confidentiality and all that, which I'd reminded her of very sternly, let's call it. She'd tried some bullshit about outranking me and I had said I'm not fucking military anymore.

Lado took a turn before we got back to the booth. "Going for seconds. Want anything?"

"Yeah, actually. Some chicken legs from Colton's Pitstop. Just tell me how many rands it comes out to."

He nodded and walked towards the old Arigman's counter. Colton was kind of a conspiracy nut about the Gratus Confederacy and alths so I didn't really enjoy nodding along about how they were the root of all the world's ills or whatever. He was yelling then about how they made every alth spies, and you couldn't trust any of them.

Except for Teigra, apparently. She'd told him that her pointed ears and fangs were birth defects. No person in their right mind would believe that, but he seemed to accept it and called her one of the good ones. This was after she'd bugged his bar and outright told him so. He probably just found her hot and thought he stood a chance.

I rolled my eyes as I reached the booth. Borsa and Rusty were talking in hushed tones but making very enthusiastic hand movements, and they had their backs to me.

"I'm telling you, Sophia had her tied up and her head was between this chick's legs, Borsa. Like, fuck, I only went in for somewhere to puke. Wrong room, I was looking for mine!"

Borsa burst out laughing. "Damn. That's not what I'd expect from Lurco."

Well, well, that's not what I expected either from the prim and proper Doctor Lurco. I cleared my throat and they both jumped as they whirled around.

Rusty gave a sheepish smile. "You didn't hear any of that, did you?"

"Nah. Guess she's in the closet?"

Both nodded. Cool. "Well, she ain't gonna be for much longer if you keep talking about it."

I tapped at the dog tags around my neck. "I was gonna go to Zinnea's and figured that you guys hadn't gotten round to it yet, what, being Praetors and busy being teetotal."

Rusty burst out laughing. "No way. I could drink you under the table."

I smirked. Sure, kid. "Keep up the confidence, boyo, you'll need it. We'll wait for our metal faced body then head out."

—

Lado decided he didn't want to come once I told him that the bar was called Zinnea's. He made a face. 

"I'm fine. Thanks."

Rusty creased his brow. "What do you mean? You love going for drinks."

I was getting the uncool vibes, and I clutched at the dog tags around my neck. Sterling would have said something by now if he were here.

Lado squinted with his natural eye at me, then back at Colton's Pitstop. "I don't want to give money to alths."

"Why not?" Borsa asked with a low voice. Whatever warning he was giving off, Lado ignored it completely. 

"You know why, you can't trust where it goes. It all feeds into their network, which it is our job to expose. Don't forget that, Major."

It was never a good sign when military ranks came into off-duty conversations. The people at the tables around us were staring. Someone started filming on their aethercell. Rusty immediately picked it up and threw it away. Poor guy went running after it. Hope it didn't smash.

Borsa got his hackles up again. "I'd watch what you say. The Agent is a demi-alth-"

Lado got in closer to stop other tables from hearing. "The Agent is an Eidolon, and a malfunctioning one. Why did we start using them?"

I still didn't really understand the whole Eidolon thing but I knew that they were meant to be completely overwritten, and Teigra was, well. Teigra. Borsa started to drag Lado out of the food court by the collar and the rest of us followed.

"Is this, uh, usual for you guys?" I asked. 

Rusty shook his head. "I guess Borsa's just on edge."

They had made their way into an alleyway that was, conveniently, right next to Zinnea's. Borsa had Lado against the wall.

He was practically growling at him. My heart was really going as he gritted his teeth at him. "Sophia is handling it. And as your commanding officer, I'm not going to repeat what you told me you'd like to do to Consoli. That was out of line, and I never want to hear those comments again."

My stomach was so fucking sick at that implication. Both of them. Rusty looked a bit stunned, too. Yeah, that was the word. Stunned. My heart was pounding and I couldn't even look at him. I knew he was bad vibes. No one puts a red eye on his own face who's a decent sort.

And I got what I needed, at least - Sophia was 'handling' it. Fuck. What were they talking about? At least they thought me enough of a ditsy old woman to actually talk about this stuff in front of me. Old Syra still had it.

Lado stumbled as Borsa let go and adjusted his collar. "Those were made off-record, Borsa."

"And I am disappointed that they were made, Quintus. Consider this a formal reprimand," said Borsa, not giving him an inch. He was kind of a hardass. But at least here, it was for the right reason.

"Understood, sir," Lado said, then he took off into the street, shoving past Rusty. The poor kid looked quite upset by it. 

Borsa shook his head and took out some chewing gum.

"Not what I expect from my men, that kind of behaviour," he said, as he put the gum into his mouth and started chewing.

Strange that a Praetor would be so bothered about it. Part of their job was althan ghetto management, as they called it. Sterling had requested transfers away from it when he was still alive, as much as he could. I held onto the dog tags around my neck.

We rounded the corner so we could finally get those drinks that we deserved.

Rusty tutted. "I don't know what got into him. The hell did he say to you beforehand?"

Borsa made eye contact with me, and I shook my head. Not hearing that about my friend. Then he shrugged and said something, but I didn't really hear it. Some asshole barged into me just inside the entrance to Zinnea's and knocked me to the ground.

"Hey, watch it," said Rusty, as he picked up my apparently little old and frail body from the floor. "You okay, Barkley?'

I dusted myself off. "Yeah, thanks. I'm not quite old enough to be breaking bones in a fall."

"Man, I could really do with a drink," he said.

"You and me both, buddy."

We got inside, pushing past people on the dance floor, and found a booth. The dark red walls with the movie posters all over them were comforting after all of that drama outside. Well, not outside, we were underground, but on the main street.

Zinnea immediately clocked me and rushed over to take our orders, smiling at me.

"Hey, Syra, honey. Ooh, who are these two handsome guys?" she yelled over the music, which was some trance thing I didn't know.

Rusty pressed his lips together, clearly staring at her massive tits, and Borsa looked very tired and unamused.

"Whatever, Zin. Blondie here will probably tip extra but don't try it on crew cut," I yelled back.

She waved her wrist and took out her notepad and pen. Apple cider for Rusty, John Davis for me and Borsa (good taste). Then she sashayed away.

Zinnea was an escaped slave alth, but she didn't hide her scars with that virgin-killer open backed dress she had on. Her long black hair hid most of it, but you still saw the lashings when she turned away to grab your drinks. Rusty had just seen her scars, because his face turned down and he rubbed his hands together.

"Damn, I didn't know she was - y'know," Rusty said. "Feel kinda bad for leering."

I patted his hand. "Oh, I'm sure she's devastated. There's zero reason at all that she's dressed with her entire asset portfolio on display."

Borsa burst out laughing. I was proud of that one.

Our drinks came quick, as they always did for me. Rusty, as I thought he would, tipped generously. Schmuck. I threw in an extra rand. Zinnea gave Rusty a look up and down before winking and biting her lip. Poor kid was getting so flustered. Played like an absolute fiddle.

"JD's, Borsa? Not bad," I said. He nodded and we clinked our glasses together before taking a sip each. That was better. Just a nice bit of warmth to take the edge off of a stressful evening meal.

My cell buzzed in my pocket and I looked at it.

A text from Sophia? I opened it. 'Inquisitor Ducas is here in person. I'm trapped, Teigra is in danger. Come in to her office suddenly, act normal.'

Fuck, I'd only just gotten here. Can't catch a break for a second.

"Emergency at the clinic," I said. "Sorry. You guys enjoy your drinks. I'll see you around."

They both raised their glasses to me. I knocked back the rest of mine, a jolt going through my jaw and shoulders, and started shoving past people as quickly as I could. Fuck, it was all coming apart faster than I could stitch it back together. What was he doing to Teigra? She couldn't even fight back, something about 'self-preservation being grounds for decommissioning, dahling'. Fuck, fuck.

As I jogged through the corridors, there was one thing I couldn't help but wonder: where was Sophia trapped in that office? There weren't many places to hide.

My chest was tight as an orcal started to try and wrestle my shield away from me. Horatius fired a few quick rounds of his assault rifle. We exchanged our nods.

"Get the Agent, Sophia," he said. I nodded and battered through with my shield. My spear kept them away as Lado fired with his sniper rifle.

A burst of force knocked the orcal off their feet. The Agent was floating, conscious, but in pain. Eidolons were programmed not to feel it. That didn't make sense. Her pistol shots weren't as accurate, and she was relying heavily on her own magic instead. Orcal flew into the air, dispatched by Lado, and she winced every time she knocked them away.

She was afraid, and she was looking for an exit through the horde.

"The Sleeper needs to access a terminal," she yelled over the growling creatures. "I will break through."

Horatius grunted and his voice came through the squad comms. "What the fuck is she - Lurco, go with her, we'll cover you."

I stabbed my spear into an orcal that threatened her, raising my shield to cover both of us against the orcal flooding through the corridor. Her body brushed against the side of my leg as she crouched under my arm, angled behind my shield, and took shots with her pistol. She hit only half as many as she ought to have done, and sighed in frustration.

"I can't anchor myself to the ceiling anymore, Sophia. We need to move to destroy the nest," she said. Sophia? From an Eidolon?

"Can you use your baros?" I asked. She shook her head.

"My bones are rather brittle, darling," Agent Consoli replied, but pushed force outwards anyway. "I think my wrist is broken."

It pained me to watch her wrist, contorted and slightly deformed, as she cleared the way for us, knowing I was bound by law not to fix it. I couldn't heal her, not in front of everyone. I also couldn't trust that she wouldn't report my unregistered theos magic even if we were in private.

Shield forward, I ducked my head down and thrust my spear forward as I charged into an orcal in front of me that was blocking the corridor. It roared and sent spit everywhere, though my spear had become lodged within it. I yanked on it, but then it grabbed me. Olynna's grace, not now. I launched the edge of my shield into its face, but it was unmoved.

Then it was gone in a spray of silver streaked blood. The Agent cried out. Her arm was broken, and she was sweating and breathless. There was a room in front of us, and I kicked it open. No orcal. Just some lockers, two benches and a vending machine.

"Get towards the nest, the Agent needs treatment," I said over the comms. "I'll take her into this room."

"Copied. Over and out," Horatius said. He usually trusted my judgement, and this was another occasion in that pattern. I started to count my breaths as I carried her across my shoulders. Her armour plates, despite being made from a soft material, had caved in on her own arm.

I kicked the door closed behind me and laid her down on the bench, and then set my own shield and spear on the floor next to us both. My combat knife was sharp as I cut the sleeve open, pulling through fabric and the cushioned plates to examine the injury properly. But as I looked, there were dozens of smaller scars, scratches, and a long, wide one that went all the way down the forearm. These scars were consistent with self-harm.

Why would an Eidolon do that?

I thought back to what had happened when her demeanour had changed. She had lost consciousness for a moment as she fell, but regained it before she had even left the ceiling. Her hair was loose, her expression fearful. As she watched me deliberate over her arm then, she swallowed and had a far away look.

If I set this and left it, it wouldn't heal properly. The damage was too extensive. I had to heal. Olynna preserve me and pray that she can feel gratitude.

"This - this may burn," I said. I touched my hand to her arm, letting the golden warmth flow through me and willing the bones to restore to how they were. She gasped and gripped my forearm, her nails digging into my skin.

My heart skipped a beat as I realised what was actually in front of me: the original consciousness had broken through.

"You're - you're a theos mage," she said. I nodded and quickly checked her body through feeling for further injury. Nothing.

"Undisclosed and unregistered. Is it still broken?"

The Agent - or whoever was underneath - flexed her fingers and arm. "Not at all. My bones feel stronger. That's - that's incredible. Thank you."

She checked her pistol next, and took a steadying breath. "The Sleeper has given me a sense of where to go. It is the opposite way to the rest of our retinue, but devoid of orcal. If we are quiet, then we can reach it quickly and without any combat.”

I flexed my hand. Slightly numb. "Then we will regroup. Are you prepared?"

"Yes, Sophia."

My name again. "Ma'am?"

She tilted her head at me. Her eyes were no longer sharp, as they had been when the Eidolon intelligence had control. They were almost vacant. The Agent then remembered herself.

"Sanatrix Lurco. Of course."

I picked up my spear and shield, helped the Agent to her feet, and we left the room to distant sounds of gunfire and yelling. She floated upwards again, anchoring herself to the ceiling. Her face didn't even turn pink from blood flowing to it, her hair was falling towards the ceiling. It was deeply unsettling. Like a spider.

Being alone on the ground was an unpleasant experience, so I controlled my breathing to regulate and keep a clear head. I had to trust that this woman, whoever she was, would aid me if there was danger.

I followed her, keeping my shield raised as she crawled across the ceiling, jumping from pipe to pipe with a fluidity she hadn't had before. The metal corridors beneath my boots were slick with silver fluid, which I recognised from university studies as kainophage elixir, a bastardised healing potion that accelerated cell growth into what we called the orcal.

The Agent had only mentioned that the tenth level was decommissioned. Why was level 12 not, if this was present here? The gunshots and yelling finally stopped completely as we reached the terminal itself. It was in an ancient language that appeared to be some form of Althan, but otherwise inscrutable.

"Do you know what this is?" I asked. She floated down gently, read the runes, then shook her head.

"No. But the Sleeper will."

Vacant eyes concentrated on the monitor as she, presumably, listened to whatever entity this Sleeper was give her instructions. Her typing was focused and purposeful. Commands in runes I didn't understand flowed across the screen.

Pipes behind us started flowing with the silver fluid again.

One had a leak.

"Agent, move," I said, and we both took off in a sprint. The liquid was beginning to lap at our feet. My armour wasn't airtight without the suppressor.

The Agent floated ahead, propelling herself past me and stopping at the end of the corridor with her hands spread vertically apart.

"I'll crush this partition after you," she said. "Hurry!"

I sprinted past her and collided into the wall. A deafeningly loud crumpling of metal rang out behind me as she crushed the ceiling and floor together to form a seal. She didn't seem to be in a great deal of pain, if at all, as she breathed outwards.

"How's your arm, Agent?"

She rolled her wrist and her stance sharpened into standing up straight. It seemed that the Eidolon was back, even if she was dazed. She no longer had a vacant look to her eyes. She was focused even in her confusion, scanning the environment.

"No longer brittle. I need a sitrep from when I fell from the ceiling, Sanatrix Lurco."

I saluted her. "We have addressed the terminal, but a kainophage pipe was leaking and we had to escape. You just crushed the ceiling and floor together."

The Agent nodded and clutched her head. "And the rest of the retinue?"

"We were separated. You required treatment while they exterminated the nest."

The sound of footsteps thundered against the metal floors, squelching through the blood and kainophage fluids, and I braced my shield and held my spear forward.

Horatius lunged out from behind the corner, his rifle pointed at me. He lowered it immediately, his shoulders lowering with it.

"It's just you, thank Olym. We came as quickly as we could when we heard that bang. Are you both alright?"

The Agent spoke first. "We were containing a kainophage breach, Major Borsa. My baros magic was able to construct a makeshift dam."

Lado smirked at the construction. He knew a jury rig when he saw one, or that was what he said every time something was somewhat rushed.

"And what of you?" Agent Consoli asked.

Horatius saluted. "The nest has been neutralised."

"Well done. I will have Dolgra Vraj send down his men to collect supplies and spoils. Mission completed until the next regrowth."

I wondered if she remembered being healed by my theos magic. She floated upwards, then stopped to lean in and whisper in my ear.

"Do your squad know of your theos magic?"

"Only Ruso," I said quietly with my head bowed. Her slight laugh sent a chill through me.

"Then we shall ensure that they shall remain ignorant, my darling Sophia. You have my word."

Level 12 was the most active battleground against the orcal, and that was where the Praetors and I were descending to. The lift to the storage and research sections was much larger than the residential elevator, which only went down to floor 9. Everything from level 11 and below was where the orcal and whatever else rested down there made their home. We had just begun the descent from level 2, which was where the storage and cargo elevator started.

This was the fifth of the expeditions, occurring every five days. I had sent them alone beforehand, but I attended with them on this occasion. Tel'vi had asked me to, then went mute when questioned. Far be it from me to deny the strange creature.

"You said level ten was decommissioned, ma'am. Why?" asked Quintus from behind. I didn't turn to face him, but his red eye cast a diffuse glow on the elevator door.

"Insurmountable quantities of the kainophage that proved impossible to clear. Completely inhospitable to hylans, alths and lithics," I explained.

A beat. Then there was a clearing of a throat.

"You ever seen a lithic?" Ruso asked the room.

Quintus grunted. "Isn't the mechanic you're working for right now one?"

"Nah, he's just short."

Inane chatter. I glanced towards the ceiling and breathed deeply through my nose.

Quintus tutted. The noise had a metallic echo, like the rest of his voice. "He has a big nose, darkish skin and keeps going on about manananggals. What, you thought he was just some tanned -"

"Dolgra Vraj is indeed a lithic," I said. Sharper than I intended. I still didn't turn, but I did begin to check that all of my straps were in place.

"Thanks, ma'am," said Ruso. He was sweet, the host thought beneath my mind.

I shook it away as I tightened the cuffs of my tactical suit. I thought it ugly, but it was better this than having my burgundy ascot, black ruffles and dark magenta sleeves being ruined. Conducive to combat, an ascot and corset were not.

"I wasn't expecting you to be joining us, ma'am," said Major Borsa. I supposed that he thought me merely a pretty face. An understandable assumption, though a wrong one.

"The rank of Agent requires combat proficiency. I capitalise upon that proficiency," I said. I checked my pistol. 100% energy. A flex of the right hand. Brittle. I would have to minimise baros magic usage except for an emergency. Implosions would not be my weapon of choice on this occasion. The magic suppression fields were also giving me a headache as I tried to test my floating. My feet remained planted firmly on the corrugated metal.

Then, satisfied with my checks, I turned to face them. All of them were wearing helmets, sensibly enough. "How else would I know how you all perform in combat? I've had many a disappointing retinue where I've had to recover their corpses after they suddenly lose their ability to perform."

"Are you expecting any casualties this time? Is there anything different?" asked Lurco. Sensible that her mind went there. The host had a cold shiver run through it.

I smiled. Tel'vi had not been forthcoming with information. I didn't know. "Not if you continue to be as competent as your files suggested, no."

Lurco nodded, and placed her spear and shield down to check her supplies again. The headache was becoming unbearable and I gritted my teeth against it. She looked up at me, her head tilted. I held my hand up.

"Anti-magic fields down, please. The orcal are not magical creatures, and the only entity you are suppressing is me."

Lurco and Ruso exchanged a glance between each other, then nodded. Every member of the squad turned off their fields. The headache abated, and I could release myself from the ground freely. Fortunate, because the floor indicator read 11.

"The peculiar thing about the orcal, you may note, is that they never look up," I said. "Switch to night sight and be ready to fire."

The doors were about to open, and I reduced my weight to float up to the ceiling. With a twist and a thought, I anchored myself to the middle of it. Each Praetor was staring up at me, their faces upside down to me, and I lifted my pistol as the door opened and a hulking beast tried to tear it open. A shot, and it bounced off the carapace.

"Eyes ahead," I thought, connecting to their comms with teknos magic. There was no further need to open my mouth and give away my own position.

Quintus shoved the barrel of his sniper rifle into its gaping mouth. Its head ceased to exist in an explosion of gore. Competent. I crawled out of the shaft and along the shadows of the ceiling, clinging to pipes. It was never disorienting, as my gravity was anchored to the ceiling. My blood, my hair, both flowed upwards, as it seemed, to the rest of the world.

"She's on the fucking ceiling," Ruso said. Except his lips didn't move, and his voice had a metallic twang. He shrank away from my eye contact and raised his rifle.

Something to be investigated later.

"Take point on the ground, Borsa."

A shot from my pistol towards a group of three, and it hit one in the eye. Borsa was dutiful in following this instruction, his fire destabilising them. Quintus held his sniper rifle to his red eye and fired. A clean shot into the brain of one. Ruso shot another headed towards Lurco, who had raised her shield already against the impact. She stabbed upwards with her spear into its throat, while Borsa shot its skull to pieces.

A well oiled machine. A pleasant change to the usual fare.

The Eidolon implant had a tracking feature for scouting purposes. I enabled it.

I opened my own thoughts again. "Lurco, take the middle. Ruso and Quintus, the rear. I will take above. Follow me, with radio silence from now. You will see on your HUDs a beacon with my location."

The nest, which regrew every five days and expanded outwards until destroyed, was at the far end of the floor. It was, mercifully, a series of corridors, so any resistance was contained easily. They could see well in the dark, and torches would disadvantage us. I remembered the last time someone had not disclosed that their nightsight was broken. It ended poorly. The host's stomach churned.

I looked up and behind me. The Praetors, Lurco especially, were trying to orient themselves between looking back up at me and also finding their way through the darkness. A fun little party trick as they gawped up with mild bemusement.

As we traversed through, myself crawling beneath - above - pipes and firing scouting shots, enemies dispatched summarily, nothing seemed unusual. What was Tel'vi hoping that I would find?

'Recycle the kainophage fluids.'

The Sleeper's voice was louder down here, a splitting force that rang through my skull. My right hand extended as I had to right myself again, nearly losing control of my own force. An orcal hissed as my hair came loose under the strain of gravity and fell downwards, and it lunged for me. The pistol did nothing as I fired. I tried to leap backwards but a pipe blocked my path. It pounced again.

I raised my hand to implode it. It was gone in a moment, a mess of blood pouring into a central point.

Then, as expected, my wrist was overcome with agony. The host was desperate to scream. I suppressed it and used further baros to anchor myself again. I was sweating, flooded with adrenaline, but I was still on the ceiling. Blood was rushing to my head. I couldn't maintain enough -

"Agent!" Lurco called out. She was surrounded by her squadmates, and they were, in turn, surrounded by the feral orcal and their runts.

'There is a terminal in the opposite direction of the nest,' it continued.

I raised my pistol and started shooting at the orcal. They were, thank Rheah, not looking up.

'Operate it. I will guide the original soul through,' the Sleeper said. The original at this time - was it trying to kill us? I tried to begin to protest.

‘You are stolen.’

The headache was unbearable as its voice filled my brain. I blacked out and my body fell, a marionette with its strings cut.