#chimera writes

In your universe, accidentally falling into another is pretty common. 

You never fully understood the science behind it, but in your world, cracks lingered everywhere. An object, an animal, or even a person slipping through was not unheard of. 

It happened often enough that a system was created to retrieve those who slip. Warnings are issued throughout the city whenever there’s a ‘reality tear’ in Central Park. Certain places of the world are permanently closed off from humanity. Schools make drills educating children on what to do if they’re ever trapped in another universe, alone. The world does whatever it can to protect society and the people from slipping into another world, lost forever. 

Slipping isn’t an inevitability, but it’s a possibility. Like getting into a car accident, or getting stuck outside in a hurricane. It’s something to prepare for. 

So when you woke up underneath a bright blue sky, away from your bed, your apartment, your town, your entire universe, you weren’t wholly unprepared. 

It’s not that you weren’t surprised. It took you an hour to finally give up the delusion that you’re dreaming. Another hour later and you were finally starting to realize this new world played a whole lot differently than your old one. 

Firstly, there were no people. 

You walked around for what felt like years now, and yet, there was no hint of humanity. No sign of intelligent life. No roads, no cars, no telephone towers in the far distance. There were just trees and plains and valleys. Back home, this would be a rarity. A place untouched by civilization. 

But there were remnants of it. 

At first you thought it was a piece of furniture–decayed and rotting in the middle of a random clearing. It wasn’t until you took a few trepid steps closer that you realized it was something more intricate. 

Clunky and robust with gray metal that was starting to oxidize. It was some kind of robot. It might have been years since this thing was active. 

You stared at the find for several minutes. Was it man-made? That didn’t really feel right. You didn’t know how to explain it, but this robot looked foreign to any Earthly element. Alien. 

Strangely, you felt as if you were examining a corpse. 

Weird, really really weird. But apart from the strange robot, you couldn’t find anything else off with this world. You mostly recognized the animals, as well as the plants. The most you could conclude was that this was some type of post-apocalyptic Earth where humanity was scarce or just gone entirely. 

That sounded a bit depressing, but you weren’t surprised. You’d heard of others who’d slipped into similar realities where humanity had blown themselves up till extinction. Or a disease wiped them out entirely. They often talked about how nice it was seeing animals that were on the endangered list, just frolicking about in the thousands. You hoped this was one of those realities. Realities without humanity often sounded more peaceful.

The panic hadn’t set in yet. There was no need for it to. You knew people would eventually realize you’re missing and the system would kick in to find you. Accord was really good at her job. It was what she was created for, after all. Since her creation, everyone who slipped was often found by the end of the day, perfectly safe. 

You were in good hands, you assured yourself. Accord would find you. She’s found everyone else, so far. Why would you be an anomaly? 

You ignored the tiny voice of paranoia in your head, distracting yourself by admiring the large trees and other vegetation. One field in particular caught your attention. It was not the beauty that made it pop, rather, the familiarity. 

You bent down, lightly touching the bright red tomato happily growing from its stem. Beside it was a cucumber vine, creeping along the floor with its dark green vegetables. There were a few strawberry shrubs, something that looked vaguely like a pomegranate bush. All of the plants were bunched together, healthy and growing strong. It almost resembled a shabby garden.

“Oh, hello there.” 

You jumped up straight, surprised to hear a voice, and from the sound of their tone, they seemed to share your reaction. 

When you spun around to face the source, you were partially expecting to see that robot you’d seen earlier. 

It wasn’t that robot. It was a different one. 

You stared, the robot stared right back. It was larger than you, bulkier, and a bit more humanoid in shape than the other one. Its metal was old and rusted in some places. What could only resemble eyes were bright green lights on either side of its face. 

Given any other situation, you might have run. Maybe even screamed. But being stuck in a world where you didn’t know the rules of the game was enough to leave you stumped, and so you just echoed what the robot said. 

“Um, hello,” you replied back nervously, raising a hand in greeting.

The thing straightened up at your voice. You could hear the gears and bolts shudder every time it moved. 

“Hello!” It repeated. It almost sounded excited. “How are you, today?” 

“Fine?” You responded before your mind caught up to you, force of habit forcing pleasantry. “I’m sorry, but…what–what are you exactly?” 

You heard the gears again. “I’m Pascal!” The thing chittered, clearly misunderstanding your question. “What’s your name?” 

Not quite what you were looking for, but it seemed friendly, at least? You gave ‘Pascal’ your name with less enthusiasm and more caution. ‘Pascal’ didn’t seem to mind. If anything, the robot strode even closer, clearly not sensing your wariness. If anything, it seemed entirely oblivious to it.

“Is this yours?” You tried, gesturing to the garden. God, you hoped it was a nice robot and wasn’t about to kill you. Pascal gave an eager nod. 

“Yes! Yes!” Pascal agreed. “The deer like them, as well as the rabbits. I try my best to keep the plants growing every year.” 

An animal lover. You wondered if it was programmed for that. Your shoulders relaxed a little, relieved that the thing was harmless. Probably.

“Really?” You prompted, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. “Do you grow anything else?”

It shook its head. “These were the only plants that sprouted,” it informed you, gears crunching as they got stuck for a second, then continued to operate smoothly. I collected them during my travels and decided to plant them here.”

Pascal’s blabberings simmered. It peered at you with those green lights it called eyes, digging far too deep for your liking.

Robots weren’t supposed to replicate life. Their entire existence stemmed from certainty — a feature of life that often fails to be duplicated. 

But maybe you were wrong because, just for a brief moment, he hesitated. Then, he asked.

“...Are you lost?” 

-

It’s a village, at least you thought it was a village. 

High up in the trees. You weren’t sure if the rickety ladder would’ve held your weight, but you believed the fear was well worth the scenery. 

A treehouse village. Each hut was built into the trunk. There were at least two ‘floors’, with another clearly in the process of being built. There were clothing lines where clothes and rags were hung up to dry, though it looked as if they had been up there for a long time. 

“Welcome to my home,” Pascal chirped while you gazed around in awe. “This is so exciting! It’s been a while since I’ve had someone see it. Would you like a tour?” 

You nodded, finally beginning to feel properly excited about this world you’d fallen into. Pascal clasped his ‘hands’ together, thrilled, as far as you could tell. He led you around the village enthusiastically, pointing out every detail he could find. He talked a lot, enough to fill the space for two people, leaving you to bob your head long to everything he said. It was nice, you were content enough to sit back and let him do the talking. It allowed you to absorb everything just a bit more. 

The chirping of cicadas, the rustle of leaves, being able to weave between the trees and never touch the ground — it all called back to the more childlike side of your being. The desire to have a majestic treehouse from which to rule, that childhood dream almost felt fulfilled as you took in your surroundings, learned where all the ‘houses’ were. 

The more he showed you, however, the more strange this place became. There were hints of life everywhere, clues that somebody should have been actively living there, occupying the huts, greeting you as you passed. There were multiple ladders and bridges, clearly made for more than just one person in mind. There was something that oddly resembled a children’s toy — a shabbily made see-saw. Clearly, it couldn’t have been only Pascal residing here.

Every so often, you expected someone — a robot, maybe one shaped like Pascal — to pop up. Yet, there was nothing; only the eerie silence, save for your footsteps and Pascal’s metal clanking. 

“Where is everyone?” You interrupted Pascal in the midst of his rambling, feeling a spark of guilt at the way he stuttered. 

He looked back at you, and by now you were starting to get the hang of gauging his reactions enough to understand that he looked confused. 

“What do you mean?” He prodded. “It’s only ever been me here.” He paused to think for a moment. “Actually, when I first got here, there was a lot of junk laying around. It took a while to get rid of.” He hummed good-naturedly. “It’s more than likely other machine lifeforms found this place first before moving on.” 

That caught your attention. 

“Machine lifeforms?” You repeated. “Is that what you are?” 

“Machine lifeforms are those brought by aliens to Earth.” Pascal provided, nodding along.

So they weren’t made by humans. You had a feeling, but it was nice to be certain. It was obvious that this world is far into the future compared to your own by decades — perhaps even centuries.

“Pardon me for asking but…” Pascal tilted his head. “You are human, yes?” 

You assented, albeit reluctantly. It sounded more like a yearning for confirmation than actual ignorance. Besides, it might have been pure naivety on your part, but in the short while you’d known Pascal, he’d never once been malicious. A bit weird, but not bad. 

You flinched when he threw his arms up in the air, jolted out of your thoughts. The gears within him whirred in delight at your testimony. 

“Splendid! I had an inkling you were…but I didn’t want to assume!” He gushed, bypassing your personal space once again to analyze you. “I’ve never met a human before. How exciting.” 

You had a feeling you were the only one left, but for your suspicion to be confirmed was a little disappointing. You didn’t want to admit it, but you were holding out a little bit of hope for another human to be around, someone you could relate to more easily. Someone who understood.

“I’m guessing humans here are long gone then.” You murmured, mostly to yourself, but Pascal heard it loud and clear. 

“No?” He told you, confused. “All humans are on the Moon. Isn’t that where you’re from?” 

“The Moon?” You echoed, glancing up at the sky. “All of them? How did they even–” 

You swallowed your voice, perplexed. What kind of world was this? Robots on Earth? Humans on the Moon?

“No, I’m not from the Moon.” You finally told him. “And…I’m not even from this Earth. It’s–it’s hard to explain.” 

Sighing, you took a seat on the wooden floor of the village. Pascal followed, watching as you crossed your legs, and he did the same. It reminded you of a child following the actions of an adult, learning from the people around them. 

You assumed you spent about twenty minutes on the platform, explaining about how you woke up here no more than a few hours ago, Accord, how you were supposed to be in your own bed at home…and now you were somewhere else. 

“I’m still not too sure how it works.” You admitted to him. “But…think of a cup filled with water. Whenever you shake it, the water spills over. That would sort of make me a droplet.” 

Insignificant, in the grand scheme of things. 

“Fascinating.” Pascal swooned before his posture dropped. “My sincerest apologies. I’m sure your friend is very worried.” 

“My friend?” 

“Accord.” Pascal clarified. “You mentioned she was looking for you.” 

You weren’t sure if you could call Accord a friend. You’d never met her before, but every human in your universe knows her name. 

“In my universe, people get into these types of situations all the time.” You motioned to yourself. “Accord is the overseer of my world. She’s a system! Whenever someone goes missing–like I did–she tracks them down and brings them back home.” 

Accord would find you eventually. You were sure of it. Ever since her creation, there hasn’t been a single human that wasn’t recovered in a week. 

“I bet my friends and family are pretty worried.” You acknowledged, realizing how long you’d been gone. “But I’ve heard that time moves slowly in my universe. A few hours here, might only be a few seconds there.” 

A few days here could be a mere few hours there. Weeks and weeks might only be a day or two. Years might be–

“From what you’ve told me, Accord seems very proficient.” Pascal proclaimed, proud for you, somehow. “I’m sure she’ll find you soon.” 

You gave a weak smile, your stomach churning at the unsettling feeling that his words seeded. “Of course she will.” You agreed in spite of the anxiety that licked at the soles of your feet. After all, Accord hadn’t lost anyone before, right? 

Right? 

You just had to stay put, and stay hopeful. You’d be found soon. Someone would notice you’d been gone, or you hadn’t been answering your phone, and you’d be reported. It’d be fine. 

Everything will be fine. 

Speaking of, you weren’t sure how interdimensional travel worked, but you didn’t want to take a chance of straying too far from your original spot. Pascal’s place wasn’t too far from where you originally woke up. Maybe if you lingered around a bit, Accord might have an easier time finding you. 

“Pascal?” You called. 

He tilted his head as an answer. 

“I really don’t mean to be a bother, but.” You glanced away into the trees. Despite the sun hovering strong and still in the sky, the forest looked dark and daunting. You weren’t sure if it was a good idea to be alone anymore. 

“Would you mind if I stayed for a while?” 

You wanted to say more. You wanted to explain yourself. You wanted to promise you wouldn’t take too much of his time, or be too much of a burden, but Pascal didn’t seem to want any of it. The most inhuman thing on this planet was showing you the most humanity you’d ever experienced.

“Of course.” He chirped cheerily. “Stay as long as you would like.” 

True to your word, you made sure you weren’t a burden. You tried your best to help out in the village, folding the rags of cloth he had lying around, brushing off the twigs and leaves that occasionally cluttered the floor. You didn’t think you were doing a lot, but Pascal was very sweet with his assurances. 

“So are there any other machine lifeforms that you’ve seen?” You asked, tucking away another bundle of twigs as per his instructions. 

Pascal sat right next to you, showing you the proper way to store the sticks. You lacked the efficiency and the perfection he had, and your bundles looked like complete messes compared to his. Thankfully, he said nothing about it, placing the stacks you made right next to his own. 

“Yes.” He answered. “Most don’t stay around these parts, however. The android kingdom is very close, though.” 

“Android kingdom.” You quoted, brows furrowing in consideration. Robots like Accord? 

“Oh, yes,” Pascal said, “I  heard they have contact with the humans on the Moon.” 

Okay, so aliens created Machine Lifeforms, and androids were clearly an invention of humanity. What could they possibly have created them for, you sarcastically wondered. You were just glad you came into the aftermath of whatever horrors happened, rather than the midst. You were no fighter, you wouldn’t survive longer than a minute if you were dropped into an all-out war in the middle of who-the-hell-knows-where. Much less one between androids and aliens, of all things.

Still, a kingdom of androids, fully independent from humanity to the point where their creators were up on a satellite doing who knows what. It sounded fascinating, you couldn’t deny that you were immensely curious as to how things turned out this way.

“What are they like?” You prodded, wanting more information out of your walking history book. “The androids, I mean.” 

“I don’t know, these days.” Pascal hummed. “ The Android King doesn’t allow much contact.”

So much for history book.

The androids didn’t seem very friendly, then. Maybe it’d be different for you, considering your humanness, but you weren’t ready to take a chance today. The adventure you were on right now was more than enough excitement for a lifetime, throwing in the risk of hostile entities in a single day was too much.

“I was friends with one.” Pascal suddenly murmured. “I don’t think she’s around anymore.” 

You waited for him to continue. 

He never did. 

-

Pascal didn’t know a thing about humans. 

You thought you could bear it, but after he kept bringing these robot fish and tried convincing you to eat them, you decided to take things into your own hands. 

The fishing pole was basic, but it got the job done. You waded in calf-deep water, your shoes and socks tossed on the shore. The calm river lazily passed you by. You’d never seen water so clear before, rippling around your legs, bouncing off the pebbles and gravel.

“Oh.” You felt a tug on the rod, your heart skipping a beat. “I think I got something.” 

“Really?” Pascal asked in excitement, bounding over. 

“Pascal, wait–” Too late, whatever was on the other end was scared away by his movements. You watched with a frown as a shadow trickled back into the water. There goes lunch. 

You pulled back the empty rod. Pascal stood still next to you in the water. 

“I startled it, didn’t I.” He realized in disappointment. “I’m sorry.” 

You shook your head and offered a placating smile, reaching out to pat his shoulder comfortingly. “There’s plenty of fish in the river.” You told him kindly and held out your rod to him. “Want to try?” 

He grabbed the stick eagerly, mimicking your movements. Pascal didn’t try to hide his curiosity about humans, nor his willingness to learn from you. He was clearly being honest when he claimed he hadn't met one before you. Since the moment you got here, you’d been barreled by questions about humanity and the world you came from. He was floored when you revealed there were billions upon billions of humans in your universe. It must have been an unfathomable number where humanity was scarce. 

“Did you eat fish back home as well?” Pascal questioned, flailing with the rod. At least he was having fun. You sat back on the shore, enjoying the sun beating down on your skin. 

“Hm, sometimes.” You answered lazily, closing your eyes. “But humans eat other things: Other types of meat, fruit, vegetables. We use spices to make them taste even better.” 

“Really?” Pascal asked. You gave him an affirmative, dipping your toes back in the water, feeling the biting chill and the trickle of water weaving past. 

“Humans do a lot to make food taste good.” You admitted. “Regardless of how healthy it is. The most popular foods are sweets; cakes, cupcakes, cookies, brownies.” What you wouldn’t do to have one of those right now. 

“I’m sure we can make those!” Pascal exclaimed, and you realized you muttered that out loud. 

You smiled warmly at him, appreciating his wishes to help bring you joy. “That’s sweet.” You told him, letting him down gently. “But I highly doubt it. Those foods are pretty complicated. We’d need a lot of ingredients like eggs and sugar.” 

“I wonder if the android kingdom has those items.” Pascal pondered. 

“I thought the android kingdom was closed off to outsiders?” 

“Sometimes the Android King allows trading.” Pascal answered back. 

That’s the second time Pascal mentioned him. What kind of person was he to forbid entry to his kingdom, and only occasionally open routes for trading? Was he scary? Cruel and tyrannical, keeping his people clutched in an iron fist?

Or was he simply protecting his citizens? 

“It’s a little funny we went back in history, though.” You said out loud. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Back home, most governments aren’t monarchies anymore. We mainly have democracies.” You enlightened Pascal. “If you asked any modern-day human, they’d have some pretty choice words about royalty in general. So now, centuries later, with even androids adopting monarchy…makes me wonder if there’s a human king up on the Moon now.” 

Pascal’s machinery droned. “Well, on Earth, I think the Human King would be you.” 

You barked a laugh, taken aback by his declaration. “Yeah? Are you the Machine-lifeform King then, Your Majesty?” 

He preened. Something simmered in your chest as you continued to look at him. You were so happy to see your friend so happy. 

“Still, what are humans even doing up there?” You questioned aimlessly, gazing up at the sky. “When I was young, every kid on the block wanted to be an astronaut. And now, apparently, every human is born one.” 

Pascal didn’t answer. He was distracted by something tugging on the fishing pole. 

“Did you get something?” You perked up, jumping to your feet. Please, oh, please be a fish. You were starving. Hell, even those robotic fish were beginning to look appetizing.

“Yes!” He chirped back animatedly. “It’s rather big, I hope the rope holds…” He trailed off as the thrashing got louder and more violent, droplets of water splashing every which way. 

You were both silent when he finally pulled it up, a clump of algae hanging limply from the hook, peering back at you. 

“Yeah.” You said after a pause. “I don’t think fishing is either one of our strengths. Maybe we should try to make a salad instead.” 

“Agreed.” Pascal grumbled. 

-

It was the strangest thing. You'd been here for a couple of days now. You were sure of it. 

And yet, you hadn’t seen the sun move an inch. 

It was still hovering above Pascal’s Village, sunlight filtering through the leaves and branches. You lied flat on the wooden pathway, staring up blankly. Pascal was next to you, fiddling with one of his machines. 

“Pascal?” You summoned his attention. “Do…sunsets not happen here?” 

“Sunsets?” Came his response. “What are those?” 

You sat, propping yourself up on your elbows. “Seriously? The sun just stays up there? There’s no day-and-night?” 

Pascal considered you with what you equated to a frown. “Are you referring to the night kingdom?” 

“Night kingdom?” 

He pointed across the village, far past the trees and plains. 

“It’s on the other side of the world. Sunlight can’t reach there, so they mostly rely on artificial light.” 

You tilted your head. “People actually live there?” 

He nodded. “I believe a small group of androids, also a multitude of machine lifeforms.”

You kept forgetting that humans no longer lived on Earth. It was overrun by androids and machine lifeforms now. 

“I was there a few centuries ago.” Pascal happily continued, oblivious to your disquiet. “I bet a lot has changed since.” 

“Centuries?” You repeated. “Pascal, how long have you been on Earth?” 

He’s not human, and yet you’d learned how to read his emotions. It wasn’t hard; he practically wore everything on his face, in the way he moved, the tone of his voice. 

His arms dropped into his lap. His body language became stiff. He’s hesitating. 

“I can’t remember much from that time, Machine Cores aren’t made to last this long.” Pascal divulged to you. “But I believe I was created between the 7th-8th machine war.” 

You gaped at him, eyes flickering over the dents—battle scars, metal bent by violence and a bloodless war. 

It was like pulling out teeth. Pascal revealed to you the history of the wars that had ravished Earth for centuries upon centuries. Aliens created machine lifeforms to take over the planet. Humans created androids to defend Earth. How overwhelming the machine lifeform army was, to the point where humanity retreated to the Moon, letting androids continue the war. He talked about the brief memories he had of those times, where he was hunting down androids from orders — where he was nothing but a machine. 

“And then, one day, you woke up?” You probed, when he grew silent. 

Pascal confirmed with a droll hum. You leaned back on your hands, thinking on all he told you, processing all the information you’d received.

“Humans and aliens are enemies.” You said out loud, “Does that make us enemies, Pascal?” 

Pascal flinched. “No! Of course not!” He vehemently denied it with so much certainty you had to smile at how seriously he took it. “I’d never do anything to hurt you.” 

“I know, I know.” You assured him. “I’m glad. I consider you my friend. I don’t care about anything else.” 

You didn’t know how you could’ve survived out here, had Pascal not found you. How much did you owe him? Hundreds and hundreds of lifetimes over. He was practically the only thing keeping you afloat. You didn’t care if Pascal was created to end humanity. That wasn’t who he was. He was the kindest, gentlest person you’d ever met. You wouldn’t let his past taint his present. 

“I consider you a friend as well.” Pascal voiced sweetly. You thought, if he could, he’d be smiling right about now. Maybe even blushing. 

You wished you could stay here forever with him. It could be a nice life. You could help Pascal spruce up the village. In the late evenings, the two of you could go fishing. In the mornings, you could tend to the garden. Maybe the two of you could start a new adventure to the night kingdom one day. 

It would be really nice, but you knew you couldn’t.

“It’s been days,” you finally started, “and there’s still no sign of Accord.” 

Pascal’s movements stopped. You knew he was sharing your thoughts. 

Accord should’ve been here days ago. The fact that she hadn’t showed up yet was alarming. Despite enjoying your time here, you missed home, your friends and family, the internet. Your patience was wearing away. Anxiety was starting to grow. You needed to make your own move. 

“Accord is an android,” you spoke, trying to avoid Pascal’s eyes, “I was thinking, maybe if I talked to the android kingdom, I could get closer to going home.” 

You didn’t say it out loud. You’d have to leave Pascal. 

The thought made your stomach twist.

Pascal, who was nothing but kind and gentle to you. Pascal, who had made sure you were safe and protected. Pascal, who was your friend. You were leaving him just for a bleak shot of getting home. 

The machine lifeform said nothing. He just turned away, looking up at the sky. The sun was still up, lingering over the world, you could feel its warm rays on your skin. They almost scorched you now, burning you for scorning your only friend in this world.

“I’ll contact them later today,” he finally said, “they’ll be here tomorrow.” 

His gears and metal felt awkward under your skin as you threw yourself at him, but you didn’t care. You squeezed him into the tightest hug you possibly could, even as his endoskeleton pinched your forearms and hands. Pascal barely seemed to register the hug. He froze for ten whole seconds underneath you. You knew, because you counted each one. 

“Thank you,” you whispered to your friend, “thank you so much.” 

Pascal stayed silent, but when he hugged you back, his hands were warm. 

divider by cafekitsune ♥

(reminder to put your age in your bio/pinned before you follow me or I will block you)

[NieR masterlist]

You got up early that morning. At least, you thought you did. It was hard to tell what time it was when the sun never changed its position in the sky.

As promised, Pascal set up a communication line with the androids yesterday. He seemed a hint out of practice; clearly, it had been ages since he’d had a reason to chat with the other beings of this planet.

Eventually, Pascal got them to agree to arrive. The details beyond that were lost to you.

Instead of worrying about it, you sat on the wooden platform of the upper tier of his village, swinging your legs off the edge. You regaled Pascal with stories of your universe, enjoying the last few hours you had left to spend with him. A gentle breeze brushed against you, rustling your clothes and bringing with it the scent of flora, the eternal blooms that thrived under the light. Beyond the forest, you periodically spotted boars and deer roaming about, feasting on never-ending expanses of greenery.

It was while you were telling him about the hell that was navigating subways that the Androids arrived.

A small convoy of people, four from the looks of it, crossed the bridges hung onto the trees, approaching Pascal’s village in a uniform fashion. They marched at a steady pace, one after the other, boots filling the same slot as the person in front of them.

Right off the bat, you clocked something strange about them. 

They all looked completely identical. It wasn’t just in the clothes they were in, but everything, from the way they walked, to the weird masks they wore over their eyes, down to the straightness of their hair. 

Strangest of all, though, was that they all had weapons hovering behind them, held up by a ring of pale yellow light. Mainly swords, though one had a polearm from what you could glean.

The group stopped at what functioned as the entrance to the village, heads tilted up to face you and Pascal, expressions neutral. Their presence caused the hair on your nape to prickle, suddenly nervous. They were (probably) your only way to get home, you couldn’t afford to give a bad first impression.

You trailed after Pascal as went to meet them, clunking down the ladder that creaked precariously under his weight. Resisting the temptation to hide behind him like a child, you stood at his side, waiting for someone to start.

The ‘leader’ of sorts spoke first. “Pascal.”

Pascal’s gears churred, a noise you recognized as him feeling pleased. “It’s good to see you again, 18.”

18? What a weird name, you thought. She was the tallest of the bunch, though the rest weren’t far behind. Her hair draped to her shoulders, bangs cut at an interesting diagonal line, but she pulled it off somehow. Her weapon was bigger than the rest, resembling a heavy greatsword. How a spinning circle of light held it up, you had no idea, and even less idea how the damn thing was used, considering it was as tall as her. 

Maybe it was for aesthetics? 

The android merely nodded, then turned her gaze toward you. “This is the human you told us of?”

“That’s right,” your friend confirmed.

18 examined you for a few seconds, standing unnaturally still. Then, she turned her head over her shoulder, motioning to the girl at her right. The girl took the hint and approached you, closing the distance in two long strides. 

Before you could do anything, her gloved hands clasped your face, tilting your head this way and that, sparing little concern for the comfort of your neck. You opened your mouth to voice your panic, but she took the chance to hook a thumb behind your teeth and pull it open wider, peering into your maw. Reflexively, you tried to jerk back, a garbled complaint bubbling up, but your struggles didn’t move her. Either, she was ignoring the way you were pulling at her arm, or she was entirely oblivious to your discomfort.

It was when she put a palm to your throat, fingers nudging into the underside of your jaw, that she froze. You had no idea what she was searching for, but she seemed to have found it in the way your heart hammered in your chest. As quickly as she had grabbed you, she let go, staggering backwards like you’d burned her.

“It’s true,” she whispered, her voice hoarse with emotion. “She– she’s human.”

In an instant, 18 and the other android locked onto you, crowding your space. Touchy hands wandered all over your body, pawing at your flesh, treating you like a novelty. Someone pinched your waist, and you squealed, batting them away.

“Hands off!” You yelped, and they all retracted from you, surprise evident on their faces. 

Chatter burst forth from them, the group babbling to each other rather unsubtly. Their conversation moved too fast for you to follow, only allowing you to catch the occasional word, like human and His Majesty, city. Pascal and you shared a glance; the robot shrugged unhelpfully. 

Then, it stopped altogether. 18 took her spot at the front again and pressed an arm to her chest, elbow raised outward, and bowed to you. “I am 18D, an android that works under His Majesty. My companions maintain similar positions in His employ. We’d be honored to escort you to His Majesty, so he may aid you in returning home.”

As one, they spoke, saying, “Glory to mankind.”

Jesus, okay, you underestimated how much androids loved humans when Pascal told you about them, sort of just assuming they were bodyguards that took their jobs very seriously. But, hey, that meant they’d keep you safe during your journey to meet whoever this ‘Majesty’ guy was, right?

“We should hurry,” the second girl rushed, jittery for some reason.

As you were about to agree, you hesitated. “Wait, I want Pascal to come, too.”

At once, you were denied. “No,” she refused, stern, but not unkind. “Machine lifeforms are not welcome in the city.”

Offense surged through you at Pascal’s behalf. “What? But he’s nice! You know this!”

“It’s a rule. No exceptions.”

“You can make one–”

Pascal called your name, interrupting your bickering. His hand reached out to you, then lowered, as if he thought better of it.

“It’s okay,” he reassured you. “They have these rules for a reason. I will be fine here.”

You opened your mouth, but no words came out, stuck in your throat like thick honey. You wanted him to come with you, he’d been the only person you’d known since waking up in this strange place. 

Fuck. Your chest ached with guilt, but if even Pascal insisted on staying behind, what choice did you have? You weren’t going to win this fight.

It was with a heavy sigh and the slump of your back that you conceded. “Okay. If you’re sure.”

The androids didn’t bother providing further conversation or wishing Pascal farewell, but you were not about to leave him without at least telling him goodbye. They were already marching away, but you weren’t ready, not yet.

“Wait, hang on,” you called to them. Not waiting to see if they stopped, you hurried back to Pascal, throwing your arms around the can of gears and bolts. “Thank you for being my friend,” you murmured into his shoulder.

He didn’t move initially, then cautiously encircled his arms around you in a facsimile of a hug, more so imitating you than actually understanding the action. “Of course,” he reassured you. “It was a pleasure to have you. I hope we meet again someday.”

You kept your mouth shut at that, not wanting to let him down and say this would be the last time you’d see each other, hopefully. Instead, you squeezed him tighter, then let go.

“Bye, Pascal,” you expressed, smiling sadly.

“Safe travels,” he responded, giving you a wave that you returned.

You turned around and made your way to the androids. It was obvious that they wanted to say something about your friendship with Pascal, but they thankfully kept their mouths shut. They led you away, further and further from the little village you had come to think of as your home-away-from-home. You peeked over your shoulder to give it one last look.

Pascal continued to wave at you, even after you disappeared behind the trees and descended to ground level.

A short walk away, you noticed a shape that looked distinctly familiar, tucked away under a tree with low-hanging branches. 

It was a car – an off-road land rover of sorts, specifically. Unlike the other vehicle shells you’d seen here and there, rotted frames of crumbling rust and plastic melted under the ever-present sun, this one was in good condition. A range of floodlights were attached right above the windshield, powered off and unneeded in the current daylight. From the looks of it, the roof and windows had been removed, leaving only the frame for easy access. 

You watched as 18D popped open the driver side door and climbed in.. You awkwardly waited outside, unsure where you fit. 

And then, something grabbed you. 

You were lifted like a damn feather, your indignant caterwauling ignored completely as your effective kidnapper jumped in and plopped you right onto her lap, arms looped around your waist.

“Be careful, G!” One of the girls cried out, the one settling into the passenger seat. “She’s fragile.”

Whoever was holding you – G? – cackled. “Relax, 73. She’s fine. Aren’t you, girly?” The girl leaned forward, her lips against the shell of your ear. You fully intended to pretend that you didn’t just experience a wave of shivers at the sound of her voice.

“Well, actually–” you started.

“73H is right, 5G,” 18 interrupted. “Be more careful.”

“Sure, sure,” 5G, G, whoever the fuck she was, answered lackadaisically. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep our little human safe.”

18 grumbled something that you didn’t catch under the roar of the engine turning over. In an attempt to save yourself, you wriggled, but it was useless against the unstoppable force that was this woman’s insane strength. Her arms didn’t so much as budge at your squirming.

“Um,” you spoke up above the rumbling purr emanating from the vehicle. “I can sit on my own just fine!”

5G grinned, propping her chin up on your shoulder. “Don’t be silly! I won’t let you go, you can trust me!”

Yeah, that wasn’t what you were worried about. It didn’t help that she was unfairly pretty. All of them were, really, in that inhuman way that bordered a little too close to uncanny valley, but didn’t quite fall into the steep drop yet.

You chewed the inside of your cheek. You were a novelty, after all; the last human on Earth. Maybe they’d never seen one before? You could hardly blame them for being curious.

Still, no matter how hard you tried to squash the thoughts under your heel, they persisted, whispering in your ear that you should have stayed with Pascal.

----

The entire ride to the city, the androids stared at you.

73H frequently turned around in her seat to chat with you and 5G, and 5G never loosened her hold. The only one that seemed to not be trying to pick you apart with her eyes was 18D, but with the blindfolds they all wore, for all you knew she could have been peering at you through the rearview mirror this whole time.

“What’s it like, being a human?” 73H queried.

“Um, what do you want to know?”

“Do you really produce milk?”

The question was so outrageous, you couldn’t help yourself. You choked on a laugh, then burst out into a fit of giggles. 18D chastised her, prompting 73H to apologize profusely to you, but you found it endearing.

Fanning your face, you answered, “Some people do, yeah. Usually happens after they give birth.”

“What’s it taste like?”

“73H!” 18 shouted.

“Sorry!” She whined.

5G nudged you while 18D chided 73H. “Can humans eat mackerel?”

You nodded. “Yeah, unless they’re allergic.”

“It doesn’t jam up your circuits?”

“No–” you made a face. “Humans don’t have circuits.”

“Really?” Both she and 73H asked.

As you chatted, you observed the changing scenery. The ruined structures of ancient apartments and house foundations fell away, replaced with idyllic landscapes.

It faded away, replaced with the curious chiming of music through old speakers, the sound tinny and popping. You leaned to the side to peek between 18D and 73H, watching as your driver raced towards an… 

Amusement park?

Going straight through the entrance led to a partially destroyed statue, its body cut on a clean diagonal, as if sliced in half. Rainwater collected inside it, causing its protective coating to wear off in some places and allow the bronze to oxidize.

“What’s that?” You pointed it out.

5G shrugged nonchalantly. “Records show it used to be a machine lifeform. Good riddance.”

18D drove around it and further into the park, up a few ramps. They were steep, leaving you to fall back into 5G, but she didn’t seem to mind in the slightest.

Past the houses lining the street, the space opened up greatly, a circular plaza with an open gate at the end. It was when 18D drove onto what resembled a highway that you saw it.

A bestial fortress. The vestiges of sunlight bled through the misshapen heart of its core, your desired sunset handed to you on a silver platter. To the right of it, the remnants of a ferris wheel lay collapsed upon its siding, overtaken by nature.

“I bet this place used to be fun,” 73H sighed. “Wish the roller coaster still worked.”

“There’s a roller coaster?” You looked back to spot it.

“Oh, yeah,” 5G crooned, laughing. “Just a mess now. Bet you would have been too chicken to ride it, 73H.”

“I would not have been!”

The two bickered back and forth, with 5G provoking 73H, saying that all healer units were wusses while the other insisting it wasn’t true.

The highway curved, extending parallel to the massive structure, away from the winding pillars and tracks of the doomed roller coaster. 

It was beautiful.

You feared that very beauty would grab hold of you and never let go.

Lost in thought, you didn’t notice that your ride had reached its destination until 5G was scooping you up like a soggy, wet cat again, lifting you out of the car. Looking around, you realized that 18D had parked in what seemed to be a garage lot somewhere underground. 

Just as you were beginning to panic, thinking they were about to drag you down to some creepy-ass dungeon, 18D spun around and led your group up a ramp and out into the crimson-gold lambency of the forevermore lowering sun, hanging heavy on the horizon.

The first step you took into the city left you speechless.

All around you, skyscrapers rose to greet the sky, their spires still standing tall, even after all this time. In place of glass windows with mirror-like finishes, overwhelming amounts of bright green foliage sprouted from the sides of the buildings. Trees lined the streets in thriving columns, blooms of white and pink flowering atop the leaves.

Asphalt made way for sprawling ivy and stunning flora, pops of color breathing a sentience yet unknown to you into what was once a metropolis packed full of humans. The tram line that cut through the center of the wide street blended seamlessly with the copsewood, the passenger carriage itself serving as a home for verdure.

A squirrel skittered from bush to bush and raced up the trunk of a nearby tree, chattering with another that hid in the midst of leafage. Flocks of birds circled overhead, searching for places to nest, bugs to feast upon, and treats to stash away.

Androids roamed about in small groups, two or three making their way to wherever it was they were going. Most had white hair, but it was easy to spot those that were brunette or blonde. A few even sported brilliantly red locks, a shock of contrast against a nearly all-green backdrop.

You were so used to streets that were jam packed with people and cars, a constant buzz of sound. Instead of honking vehicles and rumbling engines, there was the swish of gentle wind between buildings. Humans were exchanged with wildlife. Things of scant importance had long since decomposed.

Fresh air flooded your lungs. You could see straight up into a vivid wisteria and bell heather sky, no haze present to block out the lustrous glow of perpetual early sunset. Stars speckled the heavens in dots of cadenced flickers.

The world smelled sweet, faintly of lemongrass and something distinctly wild that you couldn’t put your finger on. For a moment, you forgot everything, captive to the beauty of a planet undesecrated by humanity.

To your surprise, many buildings and streetlights retained electricity, burning strong in the evening hours. They made constellations of one another, their silhouettes blurred into softness by still-surviving lightbulbs and the mellowed sun. When you heard the word ‘cozy’, this is what you imagined. A place of peace, full of nature, gentle on the eyes. 

If only real life was like this. Well, your real life.

The weapons your envoy possessed dissipated into sparkles of light as soon as they entered the official city boundary, embers fizzling away before you could enclose them in your palms and bring them to your heart.

“The King lives not far from the city center, in a castle,” 73H informed you. 

You cocked your head to the side. “Castle?”

A smile curled the corners of her mouth upwards. “Yes! He built it himself.”

“Oh,” you responded, lackluster.

You wondered if this ‘King’ had a proper name amongst the androids, or if he identified himself with weird numbers and letters like everyone else did, as far as you were aware. It would be kind of odd to always refer to him as only ‘the King’ or ‘His Majesty’, wouldn’t it?

It gave you something to ponder about as you followed 18D, absentmindedly taking in the scenery and moping about your universe not having anything remotely like this. Had you not been experiencing it firsthand, you would have dared to call it magical, far beyond the realm of possibility. The entire path you took to the so-called “castle” was like this, the pure essence of creation at the nimble hands of Earth.

And the castle itself – well, it wasn’t quite what you were expecting.

Granted, you didn’t know what to expect in the first place, but it wasn’t so strikingly simple in your mind’s eye.

Sticking out like a sore thumb, a structure of pure, pristine white material occupied a space you imagined might have once belonged to a church, a place of worship. If you paid close enough attention, you swore you could hear the whisper of unanswered prayers.

Compared to the decrepit skyscrapers, it looked brand new, untouched, raised from the ground and kept in a bubble of serenity, away from erosion and time. Your hands itched to dip into paint and press into its sides, leaving a reminder that you were there.

The massive doorway opened at your approach, and you walked through them, down a long path that led to a raised dais. A throne resided atop it, and on it sat a man, chin propped on his fist.

King was right.

The man had an undeniably heavy presence to him, one that had you straightening up.

You were never good with estimating, but you’d place his height around 7 feet, at least. He commanded the very air about him with his presence alone, drawing the attention of everyone nearby. 18D was tall, but the king beat her by a head or two easily.

Like most androids, his hair was a gleaming, cool white, resembling the underbelly of a fawn. It fluffed around his head in mid-length strands, and you bet it was soft as cotton. Part of you wanted to reach out and run your fingers through his wolf cut. 

Instead, you forced yourself to focus on his face. Unlike the other androids, he wasn’t wearing a blindfold, showing his pretty blue eyes; they swept over your escorts with little interest, then they settled on you.

And stayed.

Their striking hue made your breath catch. Stunning was an understatement, and you felt a smidge self conscious with how keenly he looked at you. You wrapped your arms around yourself, glancing away.

“Ladies,” he greeted. His tone was low and smooth. It passed over you, encircled you, and came to rest, a warm blanket made of affection and familiarity.

“Your Majesty,” your android companions all replied simultaneously, leaving you the odd one out once more.

The ‘King’ merely waved his hand. “This her, then?

18D rose first, thumping her fist against her chest before it fell to rest at her side.

“Yes, your Majesty. This is the human Pascal informed you of.”

In all the time that 18D was speaking, he never once looked away from you, wholly captivated by your existence.

His brows creased. “How did you end up here?”

It took you a moment to figure out he was asking you. “Oh, um,” you stammered, not expecting the unceremonious return of your vocal autonomy. “I… woke up here?”

Were you not currently busy getting the shit intimidated out of you, you would have considered a career as a wordsmith. With your talent for crafting intricate, yet easily-understood explanations, you could be a world-renowned author on any topic you craved to cover.

Surprisingly, the man didn’t ask you to restate yourself, moving on to ask, “What is your name?”

Hesitantly, you offered it, and received a dazzling smile in return.

“It’s a beautiful name,” he complimented. “You may call me Nier.”

Nier. 

Why was the king – Nier – the only one with a name? A proper name, one that sounded almost…

Human.

You thought to question it, but the comfort that came with a human name belonging to a man that was the closest to a human you’d seen overrode it.

Nier rose to his feet, coming to stand before you. He wielded power in his stance alone; it drew you to him.

“Come inside, we can talk more there,” he recommended, motioning to an opening off to the side. You nodded and let him guide you away from your escorts.

The door slid shut behind you, giving you privacy. Inside, you found what looked like a completely normal home, although made of the same material as the rest of the castle and his throne.

Where you expected Nier to sit you down on the couch, or at the dinner table, he kept walking until he reached the end of a hallway. He raised a hand and pressed it to the blank wall, and a hidden door parted, revealing another small room. An elevator.

You entered it with him, and soon felt the floor rise beneath you and carry you smoothly upwards. For how long, you had no way of knowing, having no indication of what floor you were on. It could have been seconds or minutes, but by the time the door opened again, you were disoriented and a hint dizzy. Nier, of course, was none the wiser, focused on bringing you into a bedroom, of all things.

Your first instinct was to think it was his bedroom – but the more you took in the details, the less that seemed likely. For one, there was no indication of anyone having lived in it; the sheets on the bed were untouched, not a wrinkle to be seen in the comforter or pillowcase, both as equally white as everything else. There was nothing on the nightstand beside the bed aside from a small lamp. The desk was blank, a chair tucked neatly under it, and if you opened the wardrobe, you’d bet there was nothing inside it.

“What…” you breathed aloud, confused.

Nier finally let go of your hand and stepped further in. “This is for you,” he said, like that gave you any sort of enlightenment on the environment.

“For me?”

“Yes,” he affirmed, laying his hand on your shoulder. Faintly, his finger brushed over your neck, the sensation little more than the lightest trace of a feather. But there was too much else going on for you to notice it properly, your focus drawn every which way. 

At his direction, the subtle persuading, you took a seat on the bed, bewildered to find that it was soft and comfortable, contrary to the blockiness you were expecting. Nier crouched in front of you, coming to rest on one knee, an arm laid lazily across the raised one. Even brought down to this level, he was nearly head-on with you, easily able to maintain eye contact.

“You don’t have to do that,” you said.

“I insist,” he asserted. “I am most happy when I serve.”

Your heart fluttered.

“Why don’t you start from the beginning?” He suggested. 

So, you did exactly that; you told him how you went to sleep in your world, and woke up in this one. How you met Pascal, and asked him to contact the androids with hopes that they could aid you in returning home. Now, you came to Nier with the hopes that he’ll be able to help you return to where you’re supposed to be.

“Her name is Accord,” you told him. “She’s an android, like you. Can you contact her?”

His head tilted to the side, and he put a hand on your thigh, above your knee. “Don’t worry,” he soothed. “We’ll help you get home. It’s our responsibility as the servants of humanity to serve you, and keep you safe.”

You gave him a thin, watery smile. 

“Thank you, your Majesty–”

“Nier,” he corrected.

You swallowed down the dryness in your throat. “...Nier.”

The delighted expression he gave you caused heat to rise to your cheeks. You looked away, and that’s when you heard it, a distant, muffled noise.

You spotted a nearby window where the noise came from. You turned to peer out of it, where you found dozens upon dozens of androids standing on the street below. They all hollered and flailed their arms about, heads bobbing like little whack-a-moles.

Beside you, Nier grumbled, “News travels so fast… I apologize, I hoped we’d have more time before they learned you were here.”

Leaning closer to the window, you awed at the amount of people gathered. “Are they all… here to see me?”

“Of course, they are,” came his soft reply. “You are a miracle to us.”

You peeked at him, and found him smiling tenderly at you, his expression warm and gentle. He gave you a slight nod, and you took it as permission to interact with the amassed people. Slowly, you raised a hand, and waved it at them.

Your reward was an explosive round of cheers that barely reached you, the androids jumping and waving back at you. Despite yourself, your lips tugged upwards, the tightness in your chest loosening. 

If nothing else, it was nice to know the androids were excited to see you.

Nier rose from his spot. “I’d like to show you the rest of the castle,” he explained. “If that’s alright.”

There was something about him that made you feel safe. He was kind, and you knew he’d protect you. When he extended his hand, you took it, fingers gliding into his palm.

“I’d love to see,” you said.

His eyes crinkled at the corners. “Come, then. There’s much to show you.”

divider by cafekitsune ♥

(reminder to put your age in your bio/pinned before you follow me or I will block you)

[NieR masterlist]

You weren’t a fan of your bedsheets. 

The bed itself was fine: Large and expansive, way more luxurious than anything you ever laid on back home. The sheets and the pillows, however, disappointed you. They were this stark, bright white. No pattern, no lines or stripes. It was the color of an endless void. 

It blended into the rest of the room. Everywhere you looked there was this colorless gleam. No spots of red. No splashes of blue. No hints of purple or green or yellow. The space was unused to personality and color. The room felt cold and clinical. 

Only the windows contained life. 

The sun barely touched the horizon, its permanent spot. Rays filtered out the colors of red, magenta, and blue. The wispy clouds streaked against a bright sky. It was hypnotizing. The more you stared, the more entranced you got. 

Today marked the sixth day of staying at the android kingdom. In total, you’d been in this strange new world for thirteen days. Your journey home had been stagnant. 

Despite your disappointments, the android kingdom was amazing. 

It was the ultimate utopia. In a typical human city, you’d see trash and litter scattered throughout muddy roads. Here, the roads are clean and sparse of any dirt. On the castle grounds, there are plenty of plants and shrubs, each growing a different type of fruit and vegetable you could just pick off and eat. 

Androids: 1 Humanity: 0

The androids themselves were a bit odd, but you know they mean well. You still haven’t gotten used to all the staring, even if you know the reasoning. None of the androids had ever seen a human. You should give them some slack. 

Strangely enough, the android king seemed to be the most human out of them all. 

Neir, as he wanted to be called, kept his distance from you, physically. He wasn’t as ‘physically curious’ as the other androids were, touching your face, your skin, your hair. He never reached out to grope or pet, never asked weird or prodding questions about human anatomy. 

He was respectful, something you really appreciated after coming here. 

Still, it hasn’t escaped your notice that he avoided your questions about the moon, the humans, or Accord. It was getting a little frustrating how evasive he can be. Perhaps he’s just as in the dark as you are about it? 

A polite knock roused you from your thoughts. You already knew who it was. Those two had a habit of being punctual. 

When you opened the door, the two were already displaying that strange salute they liked to greet you with. 

“Glory to mankind,” both androids said. 

“Thanks,” you told them. “You guys know you don’t have to do that every time, right?” 

34DE brushed her way into your room with 34PO close behind. 

“How else will we be able to convey our gratitude, then?” 34PO responded with a cheery smile. 

‘Gratitude for me…existing?’ You wondered to yourself before deciding not to die on this hill. It’s not like they’d stop. 

They’re sisters. At least, you thought they looked like sisters. Both girls had the same shade of vibrant magenta hair, though the two styled it differently. 34DE curled her hair, while 34PO kept it pin straight. They shared that signature white flower, one that’s tucked behind their ears. 

They’re your maids, something you admit with much reluctance. However, it seemed like they considered themselves your nannies. The first day you met them, both girls tried to strip you for a bath, which you vehemently rejected. They act like they’re your arms and legs, constantly wanting to do things for you, which you could easily do yourself. To this day, they still try to hand-feed you. 

They meant well, and it’s partially why you couldn’t reject them too harshly. 34DE got this sad look on her face whenever you told her that no, you don’t need her to dress you. 34PO’s voice got heartbreakingly soft when you once again insisted that you can brush your teeth yourself. To appease them, you allowed them to do the little things: taking care of your hair or preparing your bath. 

Apparently, taking care of humans is written within their code. Once they told you that was all they were designed for. It’s instinct for them to wait on your hand and foot. Because of that, you tried not to be too freaked out by their intense behavior. Other than that, they’re actually pretty sweet. 

“All done!” 34PO called from the bathroom. 

You peeked in. The bath was already set and running. White foam floated on the water's surface. The smell of shea butter and soap was fresh and crisp in the air. They even set out oils and lotions. It was a bath fit for a Queen. 

You stepped forward. The two girls waited side-by-side expectantly. No matter how many times you rejected them, they still hoped you’d change your mind just this one time. It was a little endearing, honestly. 

“Bye, ladies.” You smiled. 

Their faces drooped, and you felt like you had just kicked two puppies. As a ‘compromise’, they were allowed to stay in the bedroom to wait for you. However, you made sure to lock the bathroom after they left. 

As always, the bath was warm and luxurious. You couldn’t tell whether it's water or liquid gold. Rose petals swirled around your body as you enjoyed the soak. You’d stay there forever, if you could. Despite how strange the androids were, you loved the android city. You’d never felt more pampered. They treated humanity right. You could get used to this. 

Eventually, you got out of your bath and dressed in the clothes they gave you. Each piece of clothing was soft and silky. You dressed in something light and pastel, feeling the soft weight touch and cover your skin. 

The two girls were delighted when you made your entrance. There’s not much left to do, but 34PO made herself busy with your hair. 34DE worked on your clothes, adjusting your sleeves and collar so they fell into the right place. 

Usually, they’d come along with breakfast. For a couple of robots, they cooked pretty decent chum. Last time, they brought pancakes that were topped with rich butter and thick maple syrup. You’d never felt more full in your life. 

You peeked over. No dishes. 

34PO caught your gaze. 

“The King wishes to eat with you today!” She chirped. “He has prepared a very special meal for you. I hope you like it!” 

You wordlessly nodded. This was a first. So far, you’d only had brief interactions with the Android King. It made sense; he was a busy guy. To think that man would have enough time to sit down for a meal was surprising. 

Then again, he wouldn’t be eating, would he? He would just watch you eat. That would be…wierd, but you’d unfortunately gotten used to it. 34PO and 34DE were always glued onto every bite, not ever daring to glance away. 

You kept reminding yourself that it was just how things were in this world. They’d never seen a human before. Everything you did was fascinating to them. 

Finally, both androids decided that you were ready for the outside world. They led you to the door, not even letting you open it yourself. 

You weren’t surprised by the sight in front of you. 

They’d already taken their respective formation, saluting with perfect angles and arches. 

“Glory to Mankind.” The three said in unison. 

You held your tongue. At this point, you learned to pick your battles. 

“Ladies.” You greeted the three. 

73H perked up first. Secretly, you consider her your favorite. You adored her perky personality. It’s like a pop of color among the sea of white. She’s just as human-obsessed as the other androids, if not more. She’s funny, though, so you let it slide. 

“How are you doing today?” 73H excitedly asked. “Did you sleep well?” 

You nodded. “I did. Did you?” 

She nodded so aggressively you thought her head might fall off. “I had a dream about you!” She declared. 

“Oh?” You tilted your head, prompting her. 

18D shoved her back before she could continue. 

“Enough.” She sternly reprimanded 73H, who instantly wilted. “The King is waiting.” 

You gave a sympathetic smile to 73H. “Maybe you can tell me later.” 

5G stepped right behind you. She leaned into your ear. 

“Trust me. You really don’t want to.” 

Before you could respond, she was falling right back into place with the other two. You had no choice but to follow. After giving 34PO and 34DE your goodbyes, you headed off. 

73H also waved them off. She turned to you with a pout. 

“I’m jealous of those two.” She sighed. “I heard they got to feed and bathe you. It would be such an honor to serve humanity in that way.”

“They don’t bathe me, actually.” You corrected her. “Or feed me, either.” 

18D instantly blanched. You’d never seen someone look so appalled in your life. 

“They force you to do such things yourself?” She questions, a scowl forming on her face. “We should talk to the King, how dare they–” 

“I wanted to bathe myself!” You quickly cut in. “And dress myself, and feed myself, and brush my own teeth. I insisted on it, I promise.” You practically had to fight for the right to be semi-independent, honestly. 

18D simmered in her spot, but she didn’t look very pleased. 

 “Hm, oh well then.” 

She didn’t look too pleased, but she didn’t push any further. You were happy with that. 

Ever since the three soldiers brought you into the city, the King elected them as your personal bodyguards. They accompanied you everywhere: through the halls, out in the garden. You weren’t sure why they were even necessary. The castle looked impenetrable, and you weren’t going anywhere dangerous. 

You still weren’t allowed outside of the castle grounds. 

Not that you’re complaining. Since your arrival, there had been a hoard of androids right at the gates, clamoring at the walls and cheering wildly every time you showed your face at the window. You felt like a celebrity. There was no way you’d be able to go outside and not get mobbed. Still, it’s a little disappointing. You wanted to explore the city and get to know how androids had been managing themselves without their creators. You might not get that opportunity anytime soon. 

From the back, the three soldiers really looked like sisters. 

They all wore matching outfits of black. You’re not too sure how exactly they fight in high heels but they’re far more agile than you, so you keep your mouth shut. They all had the same shade of white hair, but they each styled it differently, showing off their distinct personalities. 

73H bound up her hair in pigtails that reached her shoulders, reflecting her cheery, bubbly personality. 18D had a short bob with diagonally-slanted bangs, chic and refined, just like she was. 5G had wavy white hair that hung to her chest, paralleling her playfulness. They had a weird mix between diversity and uniformity. 

You don’t notice they stopped until you nearly ran into 5G. 18D surveyed you. 

“Your steps got slower.” She noted. “Are you unwell?” 

You blinked. “What?” 

“Are you sick?” 73H asked, worry clear in her face and voice. 

5G was more than happy to step forward. “Do you want me to carry you?” She eagerly asked, hands already outstretched to grab you. 

You immediately stepped back. “No, I’m fine!” You quickly said. “Seriously, I was just lost in thought.” 

73H ignored you. She crossed her arms, glaring at 5G. 

“Why are you always volunteering to carry the human?” She demanded. “I haven’t forgotten how roughly you handled her last time. If she needs to be carried, I’ll do it.” 

5G rolled her eyes. “With those scrawny arms? Sure, be my guest. But don’t tell me I didn’t tell you so when you inevitably drop her.” 

73H made a strangled noise in the back of her throat, as though the mere thought of dropping you was horrific to her. 

“Will you two ever mature?” 18D hissed back. “Every time I turn my back you two are bickering over one thing or another. Besides, it’s best if I carry the human, as I’m–” 

“I’m fine!” 

You hadn’t meant to yell so loudly, but there was no way they would have heard you otherwise. They paused their argument to glance back at you. You gave a stiff smile. 

“We should go.” You urged, eager to diffuse the tension. “Shouldn’t keep the King waiting, right?” 

They frowned, but they didn't press. They resumed their journey of escorting you down the hall. Compared to 34DE and 34PO, these three were a lot harder to subdue. 

Still, the obsession these androids had over you was starting to get a little concerning. You tried your best to understand where it came from. They hadn’t seen a human in centuries, of course people will freak out. And it’s not like you hated the princess treatment. It’s nice to be pampered. 

 But they didn’t treat you like royalty, they treated you like a–

They’ve stopped again. You peeked out from behind them. It’s a door, so white that it nearly blends into the rest of the wall. 5G pushed it open. She wordlessly motioned for you to go through. You obeyed, hearing the soldiers closely following. 

The room was on the smaller side. There’s a desk and a table. 

Neir sat on a velvet chair, one leg crossed over another. 

He greeted you with a smile. 

“You made it.” He said.

There’s no salute. No ‘Glory to Mankind’. It eased you. 

He gave a nod at the other soldiers. They fell into a bow behind you. The soldiers took their respective steps behind you, backs against the wall. 

“Good morning.” You said shyly, unsure if you needed to follow their lead. You were always confused as to how you needed to greet the Android King. He kept maintaining himself beneath you, but he was still a King. 

“I heard we were supposed to eat together.” You decided to say. Get to the point. Short and sweet. 

He grinned, showing off his pearly whites. “Yes.” He told you. “I also have a special surprise prepared for you.” 

“Oh?” You cocked your head. 

“Today, I’ll be introducing you to the Kingdom.” He stood up, walking over to you. You had to crane your neck up to simply look at him. 

“The Kingdom?” You repeated, anxiety boiling in your stomach. “The other androids? You want me to meet them? This–this is so sudden.” 

You remember the crowd bustling and clamoring for just a glimpse of you. You were flattered at their enthusiasm, but getting close to that mob sounded dangerous. 

A hand settled on your shoulder. You glanced up at Neir. 

“It’s nothing more than a brief introduction.” Neir assured. “My people have fought a war for…centuries.” His mouth curved downwards, something simmered in his eyes. It was gone before you could truly place it. 

“It would be nice if they could see the culmination of what they fought for: talking, eating, and living.” He smiled down at you. 

You glanced down at your shoes. It’s not like you were in any position to refuse. The King and the others had already done so much for you. He promised he’d bring you home. Shouldn’t you at least play along too? 

“Okay.” You agreed. “Yeah-okay.” 

His hand drifted until it reached the small of your back. You were hyper-aware of his touch, feeling the warmth of his fingers seep through the cloth. He lightly guided you, with your three bodyguards following. 

The darkened oak doors sat tall and heavy, nearly twice the height of you. No human could open those behemoths.

73H and 5G opened each one with relative ease. The doors creaked under their grips as the gap grew wider and wider. 

18D glanced back at you with a smile. 

“Please enter.”

It looked bigger than the throne room. 

The ceiling stretched on for what looked like miles. Pretty chandeliers and lights were strung all throughout the room. There were large windows and bent into a delicate arch, each filled with tinted glass: blues and greens and reds. You felt like you were walking into a cathedral. 

It didn’t feel like a cathedral, however; it felt more like a banquet hall. Neir lightly urged you to walk through, to which you obeyed. The door led you into a raised balcony, where you could already see a table with seats. From your view, you could see the entire floor. 

So many eyes. 

There were hundreds of them. Androids of all shapes and sizes stood absolutely still, watching as you quietly walked towards the table and took your seat. Neir was more than happy to push you in, completely confining you into the table. Despite the amount of people within the hall, it was near-silent. Enough to hear a pin drop. 

No murmurs, or chatters, or whispers. 

You felt goosebumps prick and rise at your skin. 

“Don’t mind them.” Neir urged. “You must be hungry, yes? Please eat.” 

A low whirring noise. You glanced up, watching as something metallic and clunky floated towards you. Within its robotic arms, it held a plate of something hot and delicious. A pod, you remembered one of the other androids calling it that. You watched as the pod placed the plate down and disappeared. 

Neir had already taken a seat right beside you. There was a plate in front of him as well. You briefly wondered why. After all, it’s not like androids could really eat. 

As always, the food looked heavenly. Perfectly cooked and displayed out like a five star meal. It’s one of your favorite dishes. You remembered mentioning it offhandedly, unaware they’d manage to remake it so perfectly. Just the smell alone made your mouth nearly water.

But…you couldn’t bring yourself to eat. 

You glanced down again. The mass of androids quietly stared back. 

You’re sure they didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Every android you’ve met has been incredibly kind and giving. 

But their stares were…strangely intrusive. They peered into your skin, right through your cells and veins. Right into bone. 

You forced yourself to look down at the food. Eat. Just eat. 

You took a shiny silver fork, dipping it into the food. You slowly brought it up to your mouth. 

You chewed. 

You swallowed. 

Somebody screamed.

It was so loud, you thought your eardrums would rupture. Somebody cried, almost gasping for air. The crowd turned into a wild frenzy, full of shouts and screams. 

No, they weren’t screaming. 

They were cheering. 

Below, each android you saw wore a large smile, wide enough you were sure it hurt. 

“Again, I’m so sorry for their behavior.” You could barely hear Neir’s voice over the excitement. “They’re just so happy. Please, continue. Don’t mind them.” 

Easier said than done. You forced down another forkful. Then another. The cheering grew louder and louder, as did the lump forming in your stomach. 

The worst part was the echoes. The screaming bounced up and down the walls, making them louder than they actually were. 

You hadn’t eaten since last night, but you pushed your plate away after four bites. 

“I’m full.” You tried to smile, but you knew it wasn't sincere. “Thank you. Is…is it okay if I…?” Run, flee, away from whatever this is. 

Neir watched you. His expression was dimmed. You couldn’t read his face. 

“Of course.” He finally relented and you could taste the relief on your lips. “Please, this way.” 

You didn’t run. You forced yourself not to run as Neir stood up, gently nudging you along with a soft hand on the small of your back once more. He walked back through the wide mahogany doors, back into sanctuary. 

Just for a moment, you glanced back down. One android in particular caught your eye. 

She knelt on the floor, clasping both hands together. Her eyes were shut tight. 

….like she was praying. 

~

Even after you left the banquet hall, his hand hadn’t once left your back. 

He touched you a lot more than you initially thought. It wasn't until now, that you remembered the trickling fingers past your arm, the light grazing on the back of your neck. Fingers that itched to feel and touch. 

Something cold washed over you. It didn’t feel like dread. Not yet. 

You pulled away first. You tried to feign a shiver, like you were cold despite the castle always being the perfect temperature for you. 

“Sorry about that.” You said, if only to fill the silence. “I’ve never…that was so…” 

Terrifying. You swallowed that word down, forcing yourself to digest it. Excitement. They were excited to see you. Crazed. Wide eyes. Even wider smiles. 

Obsession. It’s the only word you could describe it as. So far, the outside android public had only seen a glimpse of you. What if you wandered into town? What if touching wasn’t enough?

They’d rip you apart, wanting to take even a piece of you home. You were sure of it. 

You felt horrible for even thinking that way. Guilt seeped into your veins, but it was impossible to shrug off. 

“No apology needed.” Neir told you, voice muted. When you braved to glance up at him, you found he was already staring right back. 

“I’m grateful you agreed to it,” he confessed. “You have no idea how happy you made the citizens. Thank you.” 

You smiled, but it felt fake, even to you. If Neir noticed, he didn’t acknowledge it. He silently guided you on and on until you were back in his grand study room. 

It was just as bland and lifeless as the rest of the ice castle. White chairs and white desks and white floors and white walls. Earlier, you marveled at how clean everything was. 

Now, you felt as though you’d go crazy if you couldn’t look outside–where all the real color was. The color of the valiant sky, not even the androids could turn that into a husk of white. 

Neir gestured you to sit on one of the lavish chairs. You followed, feeling the rich cushion curve and bend under your weight. He took a seat behind the desk. A hand was elegantly placed on his chin. Eyes bored into your own. 

He always did that, you distantly realized, he made you feel like an artwork on display. 

Or an endangered animal at a zoo. 

You’re brushing away those thoughts. It’s not like you didn’t come here with your own agenda. 

“Have humans contacted you yet?” You asked. They should have by now, right? You’re not sure how things worked on the Moon, but a human on Earth, when there hasn’t been one for centuries, should be front page news. 

Neir shrugs. “Earth isn’t that high on their priority list.” He admitted, but there’s no bitterness in his tone. “They have far more important things to worry about. I’ll be sure to let you know if they do decide to contact us.” 

Your lips twitched into a frown. Not high on their priority list? You’d think a surviving human on Earth would be a hard thing to ignore. You shook it off and changed the subject. 

“Then, has anything about Accord come up?” You prodded. “The android that’s supposed to bring me back. Did anything–” 

“Why are you so eager to leave?” 

Neir’s question stunned you into silence. Neither his face, nor did his posture change. 

His eyes were shadowed. 

“Have we not treated you well?” He asked. “Have we not cared and tended to your needs?” 

Your mouth opened and closed. He’s not wrong. Your dimension was pretty fucked: corrupt politicians who only cared about their own pockets, rapid new threats that will end the world, so many issues that humanity created themselves. 

On paper, the city was paradise. Everything was so clear and pristine. You were waited on hand and foot. You barely had to lift a finger before someone was running to accommodate you. You were pampered and cared for like royalty. 

On paper, the city was a paradise. 

“It’s not that I’m not grateful.” You gently corrected, speaking slowly, carefully choosing your words. “Really! I’m–I’m really glad you all were so kind to me. I can’t thank you enough.” 

“I’m so happy you feel that way.” He leaned forward. “That means you’ll stay, won’t you? Regardless of if that woman comes.” 

You blinked at him. Neir remained smiling. 

Why did it take you so long to realize how cold his eyes were? Not the color of warm oceans, rather it’s an icy arctic. Dead. Lifeless as this entire castle. 

“I–I can’t do that.” You finally said. You could feel your smile melt from your face, but you forced yourself to keep it. “I…I mean that’s my home.” 

“Can’t this be your home too?” Neir suggested. “You have a delightful castle, delicious food, androids whose sole purpose is to cater to your every whim. What more can you possibly want?” 

Friends. Family. Humanity. 

“Right…” You said instead. The room suddenly became claustrophobic. It was getting harder and harder to breathe. 

“I’m sorry.” You stood up. Neir followed. He’s so much taller than you. Most of the androids were. 

You wondered if that’s the point. If they were built this way to intimidate rather than comfort. 

“I–I think I’m getting a little tired.” You lightly said. “Would you mind if I headed back to my room?” 

“Of course.” Neir’s expression immediately softened. It’s no longer comfortable. “Please, allow me.” 

He didn’t let you go off alone, regardless if you knew the way or not. Him and the other bodyguards lingered close behind you the entire way back. You felt their gazes on your skin, devouring everything they could see. 

It stopped when you closed the door to your room. No more eyes. The room was bigger. 

You could finally breathe again. 

Through the window, the sky remained the same as always. A collision of reds and oranges. The sun kept teasing to drop below the horizon, and let the moon start its reign. 

That never happened. Not in this world. 

How was Pascal doing? Was he looking up the same sky you were? Was he also regretting letting you go? 

The sky was the only splotch of color you could see, stark from the bleach-white castle. You wanted to reach up, touch the wispy cotton-candy clouds. You wanted to burn in the sun. 

A flock of birds soared above you. They were barely specks in the horizon, flying up and up into the clouds. They disappeared from the castle’s view. 

Something rotted in your stomach. 

Envy. 

divider by cafekitsune ♥

(reminder to put your age in your bio/pinned before you follow me or I will block you)

[NieR masterlist]

Fingers digging through your backpack, you combed through everything you packed for the nth time in the last hour, marking off a mental checklist as you went.

Snacks? Check.

Water? Check.

Spare mask? Check.

Sketchbook? Pencils? Watercolors? Check, check, check.

Bandages, ointments, pain killers, yep, all good…

Amidst the scattered items were a radio to contact the group with should you get separated, a mini field guide on safe, dangerous, edible, and non-edible flora and fauna, and a change of clothes. You could promise to be safe all you wanted, but one wrong step, and you’d end up in a muddy puddle of water. Never hurt to be safe, even if your tour guide ensured your group wouldn’t be traversing any difficult or uncertain terrain.

He had a tried and true trail that he took every group down, every week for the last twenty years. The path was beaten in by hundreds and hundreds of feet, soil compacted into a stable course. Nothing to worry about.

Huffing and hoping that you didn’t forget everything, you zipped up your backpack and heaved it on, clipping it across your chest and tugging on the straps to test their tightness against your shoulders. Beside you, your sister snorted, arms folded as she observed you prepare.

“It’s not that serious, hon,” Zara informed you.

You stuck your tongue out at her. “Better safe than sorry, y’know.”

“Nothing is gonna bite you out there, acorn,” She assured. “Not ‘less you give it a reason to.”

“You don’t know that for sure.”

Her eyes rolled all the way back. “I’ve been on that trail dozens of times and have never come across anything dangerous. Mike goes through great pains to make sure it’s safe. The group’s safety is his responsibility, after all.”

Sighing, you faced her, absentmindedly fiddling with the filter of your exo-pack. It’d only take 20 seconds of Pandora’s air to knock you unconscious; you’d be dead in 2 minutes without a source of oxygen.

“Zara…”

Your older sister smiled at you, reaching out to grasp and squeeze your shoulder comfortingly. “You’ll be fine. Mike knows what he’s doing, you’ll be with a group, and you’re not going far from the bubble.”

It was hard to let go of your anxiety, but harder to fight against her soothing words. She always had a way of calming you down, laying your paranoia to rest. She was right; you’d be within running distance, and the path had been worn in over the course of much, much time. Mike wouldn’t lead your group further than the nearby cliffside that offered an incredible view of the ocean and the mangrove roots that emerged from its waters.

You’d seen the photographs and dreamed of going there yourself ever since you were too little to wear an exo-pack properly. To be able to draw and paint it was an honor you simply couldn’t pass up, nor squander with endless streams of what-ifs.

Everything will be okay, you recited, coaxing yourself to believe it was the truth, that the nervous energy roiling in your gut was mere excitement and not an ominous warning.

A deep, deep breath filled your lungs, as deep as you could make it. You sucked in air until your trachea ached, then blew out. Zara patted your shoulder proudly and gave you a reassuring nod.

“Go, before they leave without you.”

That kicked you into gear. You hurriedly said farewell and sped through winding halls. It took several doors before you got out of the building, shoes landing on the dirt trail worn into the grass that twisted and turned and led all over the bubble. Mike was standing with a group near the double-hatch entrance of the bubble, one of only two ways out.

Spotting you, he waved you down, and you ran to catch up with the 5 person group already waiting for you. Seven in total, now that you arrived. Mike tossed you an exo-pack mask, and you scrambled to shove it over your head and seal it into place.

“Good?” He asked, and you gave him a thumbs-up. “Wonderful. Before we head out, I’ve got some rules to go over with you bunch. Don’t worry, they’re very easy to follow.”

You took your place in the line of other tourists, for lack of a more fitting word, and listened closely. It was a struggle to tamp down your excitement, but you knew better than anybody that safety ruled over all.

“First and foremost, don’t wander off the path. It’s not easy to lose, but if you do, it’s very hard to find again. Simply stick together, stay on the trail, and you’ll be solid,” he started, pacing back and forth. “Second, don’t touch anything. I’m serious, there’s plants out there covered in a layer of super fine fibers that are riddled with toxins that’ll take you down in minutes. The path is relatively safe, but just… don’t touch anything, ‘kay?”

A chorus of agreements responded.

“Great. Finally, if you do run into trouble or somehow get separated from the group, you all have radios. Use them. I don’t care how benign the issue is, of if you think you can handle it, you use that radio. Heard?”

“Heard,” your group agreed, your reply staggered behind theirs. The warning had your heart pounding in your chest, and you had to take a moment to count to ten to calm down.

Everything will be fine.

“I mean it,” he reinforced, leveling you all with a stare. After deciding you all understood the severity of his words, his expression softened into a warm, eager grin. “Let’s head out, then!”

Your group visibly relaxed, chatter exploding between them as you followed Mike to the chamber, stuffing yourselves into the small space. The door behind you shut, and the pressure shifted with a hiss, causing your ears to pop. It took a moment, but the second door opened, allowing you all to file out of the bubble and onto Pandora proper for the first time in your lives.

Nothing could compare.

Sure, the bubble provided a fine view of your surroundings, of the forest, but it was not the same as being in the forest yourself.

The bubble provided a sense of safety, but it was stuffy after a time, especially if that time had been your entire life. Here, in the open, you could feel danger rocket up your spine, but so did the sheer beauty of everything.

Plants you could only spot through glass or in photographs were so much more vibrant, so alive, when you could see them in person, pick out all their colors and trace their veins with your own fingertips. You had to squeeze your hands to curb the urge to touch them, already battling to obey Mike’s second rule. Don’t touch anything. You don’t know what can kill you from just a graze out here.

Child you would have forgotten the rules the instant you stepped out, but you were grown now. You could handle following three simple instructions. Stay on the path, don’t touch anything, call if in need of help. Easy.

Easy.

The towering trees did make you want to ignore them a bit, though.

They reached the sky with ease, grazing fluffy-looking clouds, cotton bolls you desperately wished to touch yourself, to feel slip between your fingers, cold and damp. You wanted to climb the trees, see the world as they did from the very top.

Some had giant shelf mushrooms growing on the sides of their trunks, the flesh a vibrant pink hue. You imagined that they’d feel bouncy if you stepped on one. Of maybe so soft that you’d sink into it, feet cushioned by the delicate fungus.

Bulbous, green pods littered the forest floor in groups, glowing faintly and full of a substance that smelled pretty rank, from what you heard. You also knew they were keen to explode at the lightest touch. Apparently, they absorbed methane, and when burst, they stank of sewage waste. Avoid at all costs.

Mike’s voice floating to you snapped you out of your trance, your group all seemingly caught up in their wonder of the world outside the bubble as you saw several heads turn towards Mike.

“The trail isn’t difficult. It’ll bring us to a nice clearing, where we can hang out for a while, then head back,” he said. “I’ll introduce you to various plants and any animals we might see. Remember to stick close together; viper wolves don’t usually venture this way, but it’s always possible they might be hungry enough today to wander nearby and decide one of you is a tasty snack.”

Instinctively, the group squished closer together, prompting Mike to laugh boisterously.

“Good, I like that attitude. C’mon, let’s get going.”

True to his word, as he led, Mike would point out various plants on either side of the dirt path, listing their names — colloquial, scientific, and Na’vi — and their function in the ecosystem. Moss, lichen, fungus, flowers, all of it was up for (hypothetical) grabs. Any questions your fellow tourists had were answered with enthusiasm and infectious wonder. Mike really loved his job, loved Pandora as a whole.

And who could blame him? The moon was stunning in every way you could think of and more. Your hands itched to retrieve your sketchbook, but you willed yourself to wait. Patience was key. There was a perfect spot for drawing waiting just up ahead, and—

You came to a halt.

A little off the path, something glimmered.

It caught the light filtering through the treetops, glinting brightly, enticingly. Your head tilted and eyes squinted as you tried to make out what it was, exactly, but you couldn’t discern from so far away.

You glanced back at your group as they continued further, none-the-wiser to your pause. You could see Mike in the front, gesturing animatedly with his arms as he explained something you were too far to hear clearly.

Don’t leave the path.

The warning blared in your head, practically shrieked like alarm bells, yet you remained frozen in place.

Don’t leave the path.

It was too dangerous, who knows what was out there that would be more than happy to take advantage of your solitude? Gobble you up?

Don’t leave the path.

There were so many things that could harm you. You needed to stick together, needed to run back and catch up with your group, pretend you never saw anything.

Don’t leave the path.

You stepped off the dirt, dense grass flattening under your boot.

Despite how your stomach churned, you tried to reason with yourself. You weren’t going far, it was right there. You’d peek, satisfy your curiosity, and run back. The path wouldn’t leave your sight for more than a few seconds, then you’d return.

Everything will be fine.

Heart in your throat, you took another shaky step, then another, eyes constantly jumping to the mass of people that continued to disappear further and further from sight, descending a timid slope.

One second. You’d allow yourself one second.

With that, you turned and rushed toward where you saw the glinting object, lungs trembling, your pulse barely moving at all. You last saw it in a bush, but as you approached, you could no longer see what it might have been. Still, you leaned forward and lightly nudged some leaves out of the way, praying that they weren’t harmful.

Nothing. There was nothing.

You exhaled through your nose in defeat, shoulders slumping. Disappointed in both the disappearance of what caught your attention and in your own behavior, you turned to walk to the path again, already shaming yourself for breaking the very first rule. The easiest one. Hell, the second, too.

You’d go back and hope nobody noticed your short disappearance. Accept that you’d forever have that curiosity in the back of your mind, an unanswered question of what was that.

Only—

Something knocked into you.

Hard.

You went tumbling, spinning before you hit the ground and rolled. In the brief uproot of your surroundings and awareness, your mask detached from your head, pulled off your person along with its canister. All it took was one breath for you to realize your fatal mistake.

You gasped and nearly choked as the rush of air that flooded your lungs lacked what you needed, too full of Xenon, hydrogen sulfide, things too heavy for your organs. It weighed densely on your chest, thick doses instantly stuffing your brain with stretched-apart cotton. Thin; vision blurred by the fibers, blocked altogether in some places.

The air you once fantasized would smell sweet and fresh in a way the bubble’s air never could only smelled of suffocation to you now.

In twenty seconds, you go unconscious. In two minutes, you’re dead.

You trained for a situation like this, it came with all the other drills that school children went through when growing up on this hostile moon. As it often was when it came to training, though, it all fled out the window the moment the space depressurized. In your panic, your mouth opened wide and you tried to suck down any semblance of something breathable instead of holding your breath and searching for your mask. Your senses dampened further, a vignette creeping over the edges of your vision, overtaken by hypoxia.

Then, something was slotting onto your face with a hiss, pressure in a ring around your skull—

With a ragged, croaking inhale, you began coughing, gulping down lungfuls of human air, filtered and processed for your feeble little body.

Your heart raged in your chest, pounding so hard that you feared it’d break clean through your ribs and escape. You clutched your chest, swallowing as you attempted to regulate your hyperventilating.

Fuck, you almost just died.

Fuck. You almost died! Oh, gods, what would Zara say if she found out? What would she do?

You couldn’t tell her. You couldn’t tell anyone that your mask came off and that someone put it—

Everything ground to a sudden, jarring halt when the realization struck you.

It wasn’t you that put the mask back on.

There was someone else with you.

Slowly, you lifted your head, expecting to maybe see another group member, or a very pissed off Mike.

But you knew when you saw blue, it was over.

A huge body was squatting in front of you, sapphire, striped arms resting loosely on powerful thighs. A broad chest, wide shoulders, torso decorated with woven and beaded adornments.

It all led you to a face. His face.

Two wide, striking eyes were staring right back at you. They vibrant amber hue pierced through your being, seeing past your defenses and splaying you open before you had a chance to guard yourself. To prepare.

A Na’vi.

Compared to you, he was colossal. His limbs stretched long, and his figure seemed to consume everything around you, despite him being crouched. You couldn’t fathom how large he’d be if he stood up to his full height, how he’d loom over you, how his shadow alone would reduce you to nothing.

You held your breath unwittingly, stock-still, waiting for him to do something — anything.

If you were lucky, he’d make your death quick.

But he merely tilted his head to the side, his thin braids falling over his shoulder. The wooden beads woven into them clacked together, a tiny percussion.

“Tawtute,” he spoke, startling you. His voice was a deep rumble, a growl from the depths of his core. “Pelun lu nga fìtseng?”

His words made no sense to you, and you initially believed it was because you hit your head when falling over, until you figured out that he was speaking Na’vi. Fuck, of course he didn’t speak English. Why would he?

You wished now, more than ever, that you’d actually paid attention in your language class when you were younger, practiced enough for the native tongue stuck in your brain. You had nobody but yourself to blame for not understanding him.

Your mouth parted, but nothing came out. You had no idea how to reply, unsure of what he said, or potentially asked.

All you could think of to say was, “I’m sorry.”

It was barely a whisper, but you saw his ears twitch forward. A frown tugged his plush lips downwards a hint. “Peseng lu ngeyä pongu?”

That received a similar reaction from you. Nada.

His frown deepened, and he looked over your head, likely at the path. His tail lashed side to side, the Na’vi man evidently thinking. Then, he edged closer, but stopped when he saw how tense you got. Slowly, he raised his hands, palms facing you, empty.

Surrender.

“Kehe kxu,” he said, enunciating each word. “Kxuke.”

Kehe. You knew kehe. It meant no.

With his hands bared to you, unarmed, and him saying no… was he trying to tell you he wouldn’t hurt you?

At that, you let your muscles unwind minutely. Maybe he was friendly? He hadn’t killed you yet, nor shown any intentions to…

He placed a hand to his chest, and spoke again. “Ikmey.” Next, he motioned to you. “Fyape syaw fko ngar?”

Your brows furrowed, at a total loss. He clicked his head, then tried again, treating you almost like a child.

Eventually, it connected in your mind. Ikmey. He told you his name, and was asking for yours in return.

Hesitantly, you offered him your name, watching how his eyes lit up with glee. A wide smile broke across his face, and you felt sweat drop down your temple at the sight of his sharp canines. He repeated your name, and it sounded a little silly in his accent.

Ikmey crawled up to you, almost hopping with his hands and feet, comfortable in his body. With the forest. His movement was fluid, invading your space sooner than you could process it. He hunched over to get face-to-face with you, sparkling eyes taking in all of your features. Unexpectedly, it made you self conscious.

His nostrils flared as he inhaled sharply, taking in your scent. For a moment, his eyes fluttered closed, and you wondered what you smelled like to him — hopefully not bad. Though, you weren’t sure why it’d matter. If you were lucky, he’d let you go, and you’d scuttle back to the bubble with your tail between your legs and never leave again.

But something about you must have caught his interest.

In a flash, he was right up against you, sniffing your hair, your mask, your arm.

“Whoa!” you shouted. Surprised, you tried to scoot back, but he followed. “Wh— hey, what are you doing!?”

Evidently, Ikmey was too busy to answer your concerned yell. He shoved his face into the crook between your neck and shoulder, the slope where they connected, and inhaled as much of your scent as he could. You flushed, floundering at the invasion and embarrassed by the immensely personal act.

You could guess that you likely smelled a bit like the salt from your sweat, the bland soap from your shower if you pushed it, but there shouldn’t have been anything particular about you that invoked that sort of feedback.

Something wet, a little rough, left a damp stripe from your collar bone to behind your ear, and your stomach sank to the forest floor.

He— did he lick you?

Your hair stood on end, and you promptly decided that it was time for the meeting to come to an end.

You stumbled a bit as you pushed away from him and got to your feet, your entire body visibly trembling as you stepped back. Adrenaline pumped through your veins, fast enough to make you lightheaded.

“Um,” you stuttered, hands clenching and unclenching nervously. “It— it was nice to m-meet you, but I should get back. My group is waiting for me.”

You didn’t have any hope he’d understand you, but you didn’t care. All you knew was that you needed to get away from him. Now.

You spun on your heel, making a run for where you thought the path was.

You didn’t get far.

A vine-like rope looped around your ankle and yanked, tearing your footing out from underneath you. You landed with an oof, the impact winding you, making you dizzy.

Before you could try getting back up, there was a hand pressing against your skull, keeping your head down. You began to flail and cry out, but stiffened when Ikmey hissed at you.

“’Ì’awn mi,” he ordered harshly, all of his friendliness from earlier gone. Replacing it was something vicious and feral, something that made his pupils blow wide as he glared down at you.

Your lower lip trembled, prey instincts causing you to go limp under him, and he mellowed fractionally.

“Mawey,” his tone diffused into a croon. An attempt to soothe you. “Mawey, ma’yawntu.”

All you could hear beyond the gravel of his voice was the pounding of your heart and unpleasant the rush of blood past your ears. You were hot everywhere, panicked and afraid, an arrowdeer looking down the open maw of a thanator.

“Don’t hurt me,” you pleaded in a broken rush. “Please. Please, don’t hurt me.”

Ikmey cooed at you. The hand he had on your head lightly stroked your hair, his thumb rubbing back and forth over your scalp. You sniffled at the motion, nails digging into the dirt beneath you.

“Tam tam. Nga lu kxuke.”

You bit your lip, quivering and refusing to move a muscle. It seemed to deeply upset him last time you did.

Seeing this, he cautiously removed his hand, waiting to see if you’d dart away again. When you didn’t, he hummed contently, giving you a satisfied nod.

“Tsìltsan ‘eve.”

He sat back on his haunches, leaving your line of sight. You didn’t dare try to shift to get him back into it.

In exploratory motions, his hands found your calves and slid up them, exploring the exposed skin above your socks and beneath the hem of your shorts, clearly fascinated by the plush give of your flesh, the hairs that covered your body compared to his lack thereof.

As he felt you up, he muttered things to himself, noting your features. He traced patterns into the ticklish spot at the back of your knees, causing you to jolt and tighten your jaw, breath leaving you in heaving hisses between your teeth.

This… this was fine. It was fine. You’d just let him sate his curiosity, and go home.

Everything will be fine.

And it was fine, until he slipped his hands under the legs of your shorts.

You squealed and jerked forward, away from him, but he growled at you — an unspoken warning that you heeded.

If only you’d heeded Mike’s warnings.

What could you do other than let Ikmey explore to his heart’s content? Let him grope the fat of your ass, fingers digging into the sides of it? There was no way you could fight off a Na’vi as big as him. He was so much stronger than you, proven in the way he hardly needed to exert any force to keep you pinned down.

He’ll get bored eventually. He has to.

Oh, please, let this end soon.

I just wanted to paint.

I just want to go home.

The thoughts played on loop in your head, silently begging whoever would listen that Ikmey would lose interest in you soon. Surely, he had better things to do than feel up some random human he found? Right?

Unfortunately, nobody heard your prayers. Or desired to acknowledge them.

The relief you experienced when he finally removed his hands was replaced with dismay when they instead hooked into the top of your shorts and yanked fruitlessly. They didn’t move, held securely in place by a belt, but you still reached back to swat at his hands.

“Don’t!” You shouted at him. You raised a leg, intending to kick him, and his hand wrapped around it tightly, holding it in place. He squeezed harder and harder, adding pressure until you were wailing in pain, terrified he’d break the limb.

Leaning over your body, you saw his lips curl into a snarl, pupils pin-prick thin. He barked at you, and you flinched at the volume. His presence was intimidating, immensely so, and it easily cowed you into place.

No matter how loudly you shouted, he would always be able to shout louder.

So, you gave in, allowing him to fuss and fumble with your clothing. Your eyes squeezed shut when he swore and pulled a knife free from the sheath on his chest, the tool making a sharp whistling noise.

Let it be quick.

You waited for it to sink into your pathetically weak form, breath fogging your mask as tears stuck your lashes together.

It never came; the pain, the darkness.

The blade hooked under the fabric of your shorts and pulled upwards, easily slicing through the woven material. The cloth gave way, cut away in precise movements, until Ikmey was able to pull it free from you.

Goosebumps rose across your body, the brush of tepid air against your bared skin unfamiliar and disconcerting.

His knife clicked back into place in its sheath, its purpose fulfilled.

Hands found your hips, hooking under them to drag you back towards him, onto your knees. Bent over and arched for him. Uncovered, save for your panties.

There was shuffling, then something pressing firmly against the gusset of them. Spooked, you yipped, and were met with the sound of Ikmey breathing you in.

Fuck, fuck, was he smelling your cunt? Through your underwear?

He let out a noise you could only call a groan, spawning from the very depths of his being. “Onlor,” he rasped, going back in for a second and third whiff.

Mortified, you turned your face down towards the earth, hiding from as much as you could.

It was naive for you to expect him to stop there, to leave you be after humiliating you, after scaring you. Of course, he wouldn’t.

You sobbed under your breath as he latched onto your panties and pulled them down to your knees, properly unveiling the part of you that was yours and yours alone, the part you hid, kept protected.

Ikmey pulled your cheeks apart, examining you. You squirmed, but otherwise remained still, allowing him to do as he pleased.

You could hear him lean forward, sniff again; grimaced when you felt him spread your labia.

The wet lap of his tongue through your folds shocked you back into your body. You sucked in air and made a warbling sound, one he answered with a trill, urging you to relax.

It was hard, to, though. His tongue was weird, rougher than yours, wider and flatter, too. It pried apart your folds, snaking between them until he could lick all of you in one go. You shuddered from it, a grunt worming its way out of you. You did not want to moan for him, nor give him any sort of gratification, not for the minuscule amount of pleasure he managed to spark in your center.

“Ftxìlor,” he said, his words tickling you where his lips touched you. “Nìftxan tsìltsan.”

Whatever that meant, he sounded pleased. So much so that he dove back in, the flat of his nose nudging you every time he licked you from clit to hole.

You ground your teeth, shoving back the moans that yearned to make themselves known. It did not feel good. It did not.

Yet, every time the tip of his tongue passed over your clit, you couldn’t help the way you twitched, nor the way your pussy squeezed. Of course, he was aware of your body’s involuntary feedback, if the low chuckle he made was anything to go by.

His tongue pushed into your hole, and you could no longer keep the noises down.

A wretched whine fogged the glass of your mask, your toes curling in your shoes at the intrusion. He didn’t hesitate to go in as far as possible, the muscle folding to fit inside you. It stretched you after unfolding, the sting fading into a pleasurable pressure within you.

You hated it.

Shame flooded your gut, warring with the hedonism that began to build as a low ember at the bottom of your stomach. You wanted this to stop, needed it to, but Ikmey kept going, entranced.

Unlike you, Ikmey had no qualms about voicing his delight, happy to let you hear exactly how much he enjoyed swallowing down your taste and venturing into a space far too small for him. Every groan and huff vibrated against your cunt, adding fuel to the fire attempting to catch.

Your body went slack as he drew away from you, your lungs struggling to get their fill of oxygen.

It wasn’t meant to last, because why the hell would it? You weren’t that lucky, not at all.

His tongue was exchanged for a probing finger, one that swirled itself in the wetness of his spit coating your labia. It pressed into you, the rough calluses on it initially causing an unpleasant burn on your sensitive pussy. His digit popped in, sinking straight to the knuckle, and the burn melted away.

It crooked downwards, and you yowled.

It took him no effort at all to find that spongy spot at the top of your pussy, the calluses you disliked at first now providing a wonderful texture as he rubbed at it. He cooed at you in Na’vi, happy to finally get a proper response out of you from his ministrations.

Spurred on, he doubled his endeavors, the massaging of your g-spot accompanied by the steady thrusting of his hand. You writhed, trying to slam your knees shut to push him out, but it did little to affect him. In fact, he sped up to spite you, murmuring — presumably — scolding words at you.

“Mawey, ngatutsyìp,” he said. “Tung tsal tsonta len.”

What joy. What hell.

Oh, how you wished you could scream at him in his own language, tell him off for doing this to you, for ruining you. Were it not for his threat of dealing bodily harm to you, you would have been kicking and scratching.

You’d always been a coward, though.

A second digit started to poke at your entrance, and you loudly voiced your objections, your head lifting to properly reject him.

His free hand pressed your head down, not leaving this time to ensure you stayed as he wanted you to. On the ground, completely submissive to him. Pliant and meek.

He pried you open with his fingers, plunging them far and roughly. They scissored apart, stretching your cunt to his preference. It ached, and you wished you could say the ache was bad, horrible, awful, but you were a terrible liar.

Dirt clogged your nails and cuticles, the soft soil compacting uncomfortably under your fingers, but it was so far from you.

How did this happen? How did you end up here?

Your stomach twisted, a knot you refused to acknowledge winding itself tighter and tighter. You wouldn’t admit that the way he massaged your sweet spot made your brain grow fuzzy, nor the way it caused your legs to tremble fiercely. You wouldn’t.

But it was hard to ignore how your cunt rippled around his digits, hard to not notice how far he could reach, much further than you could on your own. It was hard to pretend you weren’t about to cum when you were, when you could feel the wave of pleasure threatening to crest and crash.

As if sensing this, Ikmey pulled his fingers out of you, leaving you empty and groaning from your chest in a bizarre mix between alleviation and disappointment.

He seemed determined to not leave you in that state for long.

The touch of something hot and sticky to the back of your thigh had you snapping open your eyes, a gasp caught in your chest.

His tip glided through your folds, slippery from something — you refused to believe it was because of your body reacting to his — struggling to catch where he wanted it to. You writhed, the base of your skull aching under the pressure of his hand, bones creaking. Your mouth opened, a scream on your tongue—

In one smooth motion, his tip caught on your entrance and sank in a few inches before it got caught, thick girth spearing you open, walls spreading too quickly. Eyes wide, you could only choke on your surprise, your breaths short and ragged as you tried to process that this Na’vi, this stranger, was inside you. He hissed, displeased, but mercifully didn’t try to shove himself deeper into you.

Your second shock came when he pulled back.

Soft barbs rubbed against your walls, flaring out to catch and stimulate every single nerve. Your entire body jolted, a loud yelp falling from your bitten lips.

The sensation was like nothing you’d ever felt before, thought of before. It was nothing you could prepare for. There was no warning, no heads-up on what to expect, no way for you to prepare or brace yourself.

All that you could do was moan brokenly, back arching, torn between bliss and distress.

On the next thrust in, he managed to stuff himself in further, forcing your entrance to stretch around more of him. You clawed at the ground, tried to crawl away, but the grip he had on your hips kept you from going anywhere. He used it to move you how he wanted, leaving you at his mercy and whim.

You hated him for taking up a snail’s pace, refusing to move any quicker, refusing to hurt you. You hated him, and you hated the comfort and reassurance it brought you, knowing he wasn’t going to spear you and cause you agonizing pain. The forefront of your mind might have demanded it, but in your soul, you didn’t want to be in pain, you didn’t want this to hurt. You were only human.

You gave up trying to withhold any noises after a while, too distracted by the feeling of the squishy bristles of his cock scraping your walls oh-so nicely to care anymore. Progressively, it got easier and easier to take him, the earlier burning replaced with a heavenly fullness.

There was so much of him, too much for your little human body to take, but he was determined to break you down until nobody fit you but him.

Until there was nothing but him.

It must have taken hours — it certainly felt that way — before his hips were able to press flush to your upturned ass, his length buried in your pussy to the last inch. You both groaned in sync, and Ikmey carefully draped his chest over your back. He was big enough to cover you entirely, shield you from everything.

It made the prey-animal part of you feel safe. The other part simply began to cry.

Salt water welled up along your lashline, and Ikmey hushed you lovingly, one hand sliding under your collarbone to lift you off the ground a bit while the other wiped away the tears that slipped down your cheeks, a touch far too tender for a man as monstrous as him.

“Mawey, ma’tanhì. Awnga lu muntxa.”

His lips brushed your crown, his body needing to bend awkwardly to make sure the featherlight touch reached you, though he didn’t seem to mind.

From the corner of your eye, you caught that glint again, the same one that got you into this mess in the first place.

It took you a moment to make out what it was, your vision blurred with tears and your mind fucked out. Eventually, you were able to identify it.

It was a river stone, smooth and a bit oblong. A natural hole had been worn through the center of it, and years of residing in a creek had polished it to a lovely shine, one perfect for reflecting the sunlight. Almost a crystal, almost precious.

Your artist’s reflex had you yearning to grasp it, turn it over in your hands so you could memorize it, paint it. Maybe you’d take it, a little gift from Pandora, the one thing you’d allow yourself to selfishly possess. There was a spot on your desk back at home that it’d fit on perfectly, like it was meant to be.

You closed your eyes and turned your head the other way, unable to bear looking at it any longer.

Ikmey continued murmuring things to you, none of which you understood, nor had the wherewithal to try and piece together. Part of it seemed like mindless babble, the man just as caught up in the moment as you were. Each torturously slow thrust sent shockwaves through your, igniting your nerves like a flame catching a wick, or a line of gunpowder.

It burned you, left you hypersensitive to the way his hands shifted over your body, as if unsure where he wanted to touch you more. It hurt you in the way it felt so good, the way it left you whining pitifully and squirming back to meet his thrusts.

He praised you for it, smile evident in his voice as he nipped at your ear, flattened his front to your spine as much as he could with your backpack in the way and made the thin fabric of your top stick to your sweat-slicked skin. Anytime his pace quickened, you moaned loudly, and he rewarded you with sweet words.

His hand found your lower stomach, right above your mons, and pushed down into it. You yowled at the sudden increase in pressure in your pussy, the way it made his cock seem like it reached your damn throat. Pleased, he rubbed there, soothing circles that only doubled all you felt.

Then, his fingers shifted, reached to where the folds of your cunt struggled to wrap around his size. The tip of one located your clit, and the world around you went white.

Your orgasm drowned you, the unexpected intensity of it leaving your ears ringing and your breaths harsh and fast. You pulsed, cunt rhythmically squeezing and releasing his invading cock. He grunted into your ear, the noise inaudible over the rush of blood past your eardrums. Your head was spinning, lost to the world.

Ikmey wasn’t far behind; your climax pushed his over the edge. His cock kicked and jumped as thick ropes of blistering-hot cum drenched your pussy. It painted your walls and swamped your cervix, and there was so much of it that you simply couldn’t hold it all. The excess spurted out from your hole, running down your quivering, twitching thighs in rivulets.

Of all the things he rambled to you in his native tongue, there was one thing you understood well, one thing that he rasped to you in heavily-accented English.

“Mate.”

All at once, it was silent.

There was no noise save for your heavy breathing and his, as if the forest itself had stopped to witness and bless this union that you never agreed to, never wanted.

Still, he remained, and so did you. Not like you could wriggle out of his vise-like grip, anyway, not in your given condition.

He was merciful, at least. He hadn’t moved an inch since he came inside you, simply remained as he was, like he knew he needed to give you time to recover. He let your breathing even out on its own pace, kept a palm to your sternum to know when your heart had settled down from its frantic rabbiting.

A kiss was laid to your temple, one you barely responded to with a ragged hum. As delicately as he could, he pulled out of you, seemingly apologizing when you hissed at the sensitivity. Another kiss, and he was standing up. His tewng was on the ground, the woven loincloth treated more kindly than the shredded remnants of your shorts.

The moment he turned his back, walked away towards what you guessed was a stream, you got up and ran. You kicked off your panties in the process to free your legs, uncaring that you were half naked. You just had to get away.

In spite of the way your legs wobbled, aching and struggling to hold you upright, you forced them to move, running and running and running. You leapt over roots, stumbled in small ditches and dips, fell over more times than you cared to count, but you never stopped moving.

Not until you were so far that you could no longer hold yourself up anymore, dropping to your knees. You panted heavily, clutching the grass like it was your lifeline. It took too long for you to recover.

By some miracle, when you looked around, you spotted a familiar path. And by some other miracle, you still had your backpack, having really only lost your shorts and panties. You unclipped it from your front and let it slide off your shoulders. Weakly, you pulled it forward and unzipped it, digging through the mess of materials inside until your fingers wrapped around loose fabric.

A quick check of your shirt showed it was stained green and brown, and you didn’t think twice about stripping it off and throwing it somewhere out of sight. The less reminders you what happened, the less upset you would feel.

At the bottom of your backpack was a packet of wet wipes. You thanked your past self for at least having enough foresight to bring those along, even if she was the one who got you in this mess in the first place.

You didn’t have time to think about it, not right now.

As clinically and briskly as you could, you wiped yourself off between your legs, cringing at the sight of goopy, bioluminescent cum clinging to the wipes before you threw those away, too. Once you were functionally clean, you pulled on your spare clothes, doing everything in your power to not think about what happened. What Ikmey did to you. You didn’t want to remember; you wanted to pretend it never happened at all.

You brushed off your legs, absently noting you’d need to shower when you got back to the bubble. If there was any merciful being out there, you hoped they’d let you slip back into your home unseen by anyone.

Clipping your backpack into place again, you sighed, and stepped back onto the path.

Don’t leave the path ever again.

❭❭─✴︎─➣

Zara chewed you out when you returned to the bubble unaccompanied by the group.

She went on and on about how dangerous it was, how you could have died, how Mike had been going crazy trying to contact you when he noticed you’d vanished. You kept your mouth shut, knowing she was right.

Your sister stopped once she noticed you weren’t defending yourself like you normally would have, your stare distant and dull. Whatever happened to you, she wasn’t able to pry it out of you, or much else, for that matter. She sat beside you, gave a long-suffering sigh, and set her hand on your thigh.

For a while, neither of you spoke. Her thumb stroked absentminded circles into your leg, a small comfort.

A knock at the door to your shared space signaled the arrival of someone — likely Mike. Zara sighed again and stood, fingers plucking some dried leaves and dirt from your hair.

“Go shower,” she murmured. “I’ll… I’ll figure out something to tell Mike.”

There was no fight left in you, so you simply obeyed.

You never took your sketchbook out of your backpack. It’d rot there along with your secret.

It started when you woke up in the middle of the night to roll off the side of your bed and scramble to the bathroom, ignoring the dull ache in your knees from the heavy landing as you focused solely on making it to the toilet in time.

Your entire body was shaking, covered in a layer of sweat as you pushed up the lid with mere seconds to spare and leaned over the edge, spilling what meager contents of your dinner from the night before remained in your stomach. Zara was there moments later, kneeling behind you to rub your back and tuck your hair away from your sticky face.

“Maybe you ate something bad,” she offered.

You gulped down bile and acid, licked your dry lips. “Yeah. Maybe.”

A month had passed like this, jumping up at all odd hours of the day and night to retch, wondering if you’d caught some particularly nasty bug while you were outside in the split moment your exo-pack had popped off your face, or if it was allergies, stress, something.

Still, as much as you avoided the mere thought, dodged it skittishly with excuses of it’s not possible and I’m not, it’s just a cold, the truth was bound to drag you back to cold, hard reality eventually. And it did, in the form of your hands on your stomach, body stood diagonally to your floor-length mirror to see the added curve of it in your reflection.

You pressed your hands to the firmness beneath your skin, measuring it with the space between your thumb and index finger. Low. Symmetrical.

It couldn’t — shouldn’t — be possible. There had to be some other plausible explanation, some subtle, niche excuse, whatever it took. Genetic mutation, tumor, anomaly. Fuck, you’d take some bizarre, anatomical deformity over this. Anything, anything but this.

Maybe it’s a parasite, is all? You tried, knowing deep down it was futile to deny it any longer.

It made you sick to think about, to even consider, let alone accept. But you’d shoved it away, ignored it and denied it, for too long, now. You had all you needed to know; your symptoms, the brief biology lessons you could recall from your childhood on the differences between humans and Na’vi. All that was left was to admit it.

You were pregnant.

Instinctively, it felt wrong to acknowledge, to claim. As humans, without testing, it’d be near impossible to discern pregnancy until at least three months into the gestation period, and that was if you would present. Surprise pregnancies, while rare, had happened before.

Unfortunately, you weren’t quite so lucky.

Of the few facts you did remember from your school days, you knew that Na’vi matured faster than humans. Their gestation periods were shorter, their kin grew faster to suit their environment, requiring rapid adaptation for survival. The forest, all of Pandora as a whole, was dangerous, after all.

But you weren’t Na’vi. Your body was built for human pregnancies, the kind that took nine months, the kind that were slow to affect your body outwardly. You weren’t nine feet tall, your bones weren’t reinforced with carbon fiber, and your womb would not be able to handle a Na’vi pregnancy.

You tried to keep it from Zara for as long as you could, but there was only so much you could do when the fetus inside you was outgrowing your appetite, your clothing, you. It was silly to think she’d ignore your symptoms, so when she sat you down, forced you to talk to her and tell her why you’d grown so distant, why you were sick all the time but wouldn’t let any of the bubble’s doctors check you out, you broke and spilled your secret.

Not all of it, no; you kept Ikmey locked away in the furthest part of your mind, compartmentalized under a hundred padlocks and in a dense, lead box. But you gave her enough information to piece together what happened to you during your failed tour that seemed so long ago, now, years and years in the past.

For a while, she just hugged you, and you cried into her shoulder.

You spent the second month much the same as the first; morning sickness and tender tits and all. It wouldn’t be that bad if you hadn’t come to the horrifying realization that your baby was growing much, much faster than your body could handle. Zara must have come to the same revelation when she gave you an ultrasound (to the best of her ability; she was a scientist, not a gynocologist) and found that the fetus was out-developing its habitat.

You thought about terminating it. You really considered the idea, spent long days and longer nights sitting on the idea. Whenever you thought about it, you’d put your hand on your growing stomach and… exist. With it. The fetus.

Zara knew before you did that you couldn’t do it. No words needed to be shared, no excuses or attempts at convincing. Her hand squeezed yours, and she promised she’d take care of it, of you, everything.

Though she didn’t tell you, you knew that it was far from easy for Zara to pull so many strings at once and prevent them from getting tangled. Had you become a scientist like her, maybe you could have helped more beyond bringing her late night dinner. Then again, were you a scientist, you likely wouldn’t be in this mess to begin with, pregnant with an unknown Na’vi’s child.

Anytime you asked how you could assist, she merely wrapped an arm around your shoulders to pull you into her, pressing a kiss to your crown and murmuring for you to simply focus on yourself and the babe, the prrnen. Eat well, rest plenty, stay off your feet, and keep her updated on any changes happening to either you or the fetus.

By the time she had everything sorted, you were right about ready to burst, barely able to move anymore. Your baby had already begun forming hair, ears twitching as it floated comfortably in your womb, kept in a tight embrace by the rapidly shrinking space. You, meanwhile, felt like you were carrying twins, nevermind a single child, convinced you’d pop if you rolled over on your bed wrong.

It was a close shave; Finding an engineer, doctor, and surgeon who could help while keeping their mouths shut, building a tank to act as a pseudo-womb, carefully stealing medical tools and anesthesia, lining up schedules. You could tell that Zara was barely hanging on, the bags under her eyes growing heavier with each sleepless night she spent working on the pseudo-womb, working out a plan with the doctor and surgeon.

It took everything in you to fight down the guilt that tried to tear itself free.

She was doing this for you, for your baby. If not for her, you’d have been screwed. You owed her everything.

It looked like you, a little. The babe.

His skin was a rich cobalt hue, further enhanced by the faint teal glow of the tank he would call his home for the rest of his gestational period. The beginnings of a tail sprouted from the base of his spine, oddly cute in a stubby sort of way. His kuru, too. Short, terribly so, sealed up so that the tendrils within would stay protected during his development.

Pressing your palm to the glass, all you could do was stare. Watch. Compare.

He had your nose, your cheeks, your lips. A thumb and four fingers.

That was where your similarities ended. To anyone else, someone who wouldn’t have the slightest clue, this was nothing more than a Na’vi fetus that the scientists had obtained somehow, studying the process of fetal growth.

But he was yours.

You wanted to hate him. You really did. You wanted to despise him as much as you despised his father, hate him for what your body went through in the short three months that he occupied it. You couldn’t.

None of this was his fault; he was a consequence of another man’s actions, nothing more.

A child. Your child.

It wasn’t until the day your son was ‘born’ that you knew what to call him.

Kei.

A name that worked both in English and Na’vi.

It was also on that day that you were forced to move out of the bubble.

You couldn’t raise him there, not if you wanted to keep him a secret, protect him. For both his safety and yours, you needed to go somewhere else.

The place used to be called Hell’s Gate. Back in the day, it’d been abandoned for a long time, once a human settlement that’d been run out by the nearby native population. Untouched, Pandora had reclaimed most of its exterior, and a bit of the interior, but it remained standing, resilient like the humans that built it.

At some point, humans living nearby were struggling to survive in their bubble. Upon rediscovering Hell’s Gate, its name nearly completely worn off its sides, they worked hard to restore it into working order. There, they found rations and scientific equipment to keep themselves thriving. As a result, new scientists were born again, people who read the research left behind and learned how to study and treat the human body.

Of course, that meant they wanted to study you and your son.

You despised the idea with a burning passion, not wanting to subject him to being treated like a lab rat, but you needed to protect him. They promised safety and support, to feed you, a personal space for you and Kei, their wholehearted protection, in exchange for you participating in studies.

A small price to pay, all things considered. You’d do anything to keep Kei safe.

You’d been living at Hell’s Gate for two years.

In that time, Kei had grown substantially, the wee babe standing at your hip (whenever he humored the scientists enough to stand still long enough for them to measure him). The scientists themselves were kind, doing what they could to support you and your little one. Food, custom-tailored clothing, a private wing, regular checkups. Anything you needed.

All you needed, in truth, was your child.

“Kei!” You shouted after him. “Slow down, I can’t move that fast!”

Little Kei merely giggled, toddling forward faster, egged on by your strict tone. Only two years old, and he was already able to navigate the small patch of forest you let him explore in so well. He was going to be a menace when he grew up.

The smile that the thought induced was dropped the instant you heard him scream.

Not one of his cries for attention, or screams from hunger or pain, no. No, this was a scream of pure, utter fear.

You didn’t think twice as you broke into a sprint, racing towards where you heard him. The scratches that stray branches and underbrush left on your skin were the least of your concern, no mind paid to them when your baby was in danger. Fuck, fuck, fuck! If he got hurt from some animal, or if someone took him—

You burst through a bush into a clearing, where you froze in place upon seeing the last thing you wanted to see.

There was a man holding a writhing, bawling Kei up by the pits, honey eyes wide with shock, lips parted.

Ikmey.

The moment you appeared, his gaze snapped to you, eyes only growing larger. You panted, throat aching, unused to the exertion. When Kei saw you, he began crying louder and reaching for you, yowling for mama.

Ikmey lowered the toddler, and Kei ran back to you, slamming into your legs. You crouched down and hugged him tightly, hand rubbing up and down his back as you shushed him tenderly.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” you murmured to your son, voice trembling as the adrenaline that fueled you drained from your system. He was safe. “I’ve got you, baby.”

You hooked your hands under his legs and hoisted him up onto your hip as you stood, grunting under his weight.

When Ikmey spoke, the low rumble of his voice startled you. “Itan?” He asked, then hesitantly motioned between himself and Kei. “…Ma’itan?”

You swallowed thickly. You didn’t want to answer him, he had no right to know about you after all he’d done to you, to your body, your life.

You’d always been a terrible liar.

Minutely, your head dipped forward once.

“Yes,” you whispered. “Your son.”

His entire expression changed. A myriad of emotions swept over his face; shock, elation, grief, anger, confusion, a million more you weren’t able to put a name to quickly enough.

“You— hide,” he growled out in rough English. “Hide him.”

The muscles in your jaw fluttered. “I had to. To protect him. Tìhawnu si.”

His nose scrunched up, his anger growing as he stepped towards you, prowling like a predator. “You are mate. You run.”

In return, you began backing away. You opened your mouth to argue back, to insist that you weren’t his mate. He’d taken you on the ground like an animal, ignoring your cries that you didn’t want it, then thought he could claim you? You weren’t a Na’vi, you were human. In every way, you were incompatible.

At least, you believed so. Used to, until your son had to be removed from your womb to keep you alive, lest he tear you apart by growing too quickly, too big, for you to handle. Until you had proof that, by some miracle or curse, a Na’vi was able to reproduce with a human and create new life.

But your back bumped into something hard, something that wasn’t there before, and the words died in your throat.

Tilting your head back, you met the gaze of the Na’vi that had blocked your exit, his gaze severe. Rustling caused you to snap your attention to the sides of the clearing, horror settling deep in your gut as more Na’vi made themselves known, further cutting off any escape routes. A nervous Kei buried his face into your clavicle, and you hugged him tighter, closer to you.

You’d do anything to protect him.

Surprisingly gentle fingers pinched your chin and turned your head, forcing you to meet Ikmey’s unwavering stare. He peered down at you, his size making you shrink, your throat closing up. If you screamed, would anybody be able to reach you in time? Would the humans be able to save you from these towering, unbreakable beings?

As Ikmey leaned down into your space, brought himself eye-to-eye with you, you knew the answer had always been and would always be no. There was nothing that could save you.

On his wrist, there was a glint.

Tied to his songcord, his waytelem, was the very same river stone that had lured you into his trap all those years ago.

“No more running.”

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