Spencer Reid is my little meow meow

I already have something half written about him

Hotch: Y/N...

Y/N: HE RAN INTO MY FIST!

JJ: Come on Y/N

Y/N: *Getting increasingly nervous* I plead the fifth

Never

bring my anime obsession to this account

no particular reason, i just don't wanna write anime fanfiction

wtf

you guys are nuts

you might like the next spencer one in my notes

idk

The Cathedral

Word Count: 1525

Rating: SFW, mentions of death & war

A/N: This was inspired partially by a dream, partially by my own aspirations, and partially by Warriors by Imagine Dragons (link opens in a new tab for easy listening). I hope you enjoy.

Dust and sparks rained through the air, joining the thick smoke of burning trees. Masa knelt among the fallen branches, bracing the elbow on her knee and eye glued to the viewfinder of her camera. She inhaled deeply of air made clean by her biosuit. Despite the many filters between her mouth and the burning world, the scent of smoke and death reached her nose. Masa fiddled with a knob and the cathedral looming out of the giant pine trees jumped into focus. Blurry bits of red and grey floated across the lens, but they could not distract from the dramatic stone arches and carvings above her. As big as the cathedral was, the trees were even bigger. A missile shrieked past overhead. Seconds later, a boom shook the earth underneath Masa's feet. She gritted her teeth and resettled her position, bringing the cathedral back into focus. The fire had spread to the tops of the trees on the left side of the cathedral. Masa was going to have to hurry if she wanted any footage from inside before it was destroyed. She rose and strapped the camera into its sling across her back. Her helmet crackled to life as a squadron of Territory Cooperative soldiers came into radio range.

“Watch the right flank!”

“Move north! North! North!”

“See the indents? Stay within the indents! Follow the ancient road!”

“Missile!”

Another shriek and boom and screaming in her helmet. Masa winced and glanced behind her in the direction of her assigned guard's corpse. Then she broke out into a run, covering the distance to the front doors of the cathedral in long strides. Up close, the rotted wooden doors were even bigger, stretching to the peaked arches at least four meters over her head. Masa grabbed her camera off her back and filmed the half-missing, sagging doors. Stained grey by age and smoke, pitted, warped, and scorched, the doors still revealed lines of beautiful carvings. To the side, a green copper sign read “Kölner Dom”. Masa smiled and titled backwards, swinging the camera up to film the peaked arches. The crackling of fire above became more audible.

Masa secured the camera and reached out to gently push one of the huge doors aside. The remaining hinges squeaked loudly as she pushed through into the musty silence. Part of the ceiling was collapsed, columns cracked and most of the stained-glass windows were blown out. Not a trace of gold or riches remained after a thousand years of looters. After getting a wide shot of the interior, Masa pressed forward past the first rows of collapsed and rotten wooden benches. Rubble piled up to the ceiling on her left, making that wing impossible to explore. Her boots cracked across shards of glass as she walked forward. Masa regarded the cathedral. The war had carried her far and wide across mainland Europe and she had filmed many wonders of the ancient world. This one, in the remains of old Germany, fell somewhere in the middle of her private ranking system. Nowhere as intact nor grand as Notre Dame, but not a pile of rubble like St. Paul's.

Masa spotted a complete window between the rows of columns and stopped, lining up a shot. The colors were distorted by the red glow behind them and the waving trees, but they were beautiful nonetheless. It would make the people happy to see such beauty on screens that were usually full of death. Masa zoomed in on the mosaic of colors. Most panels of glass depicted the outside of the cathedral as it must have looked eons ago. All royal gold and red with vines, flowers, and elaborate spires that had collapsed long ago. In the middle of a window, Masa recognized a classic Biblical scene. Women draped in blue cradling the almost naked body of their savior. Masa gazed at the window for another moment. How this singular piece of art had survived was beyond her. Even the Notre Dame hadn't escaped the worst of the wars with all its windows. The Nihlyn did not recognize ancient monument protection codes.

Masa felt the alien's presence before she saw it. As if thinking its name had been a summoning. The skin on her arms raised below her biosuit and goosebumps raised across her body. Masa spun around, grabbing for the only weapon on her person: a small ADES pistol strapped to her thigh.

The Nihlyn already had her – identified by her blue skin instead of green – hands raised. Masa grimaced against the intense waves of unexplainable energy radiating off the alien. The Nihlyn flexed the four long fingers on her right hand before dropping both her arms. Her large triangular head tilted toward Masa, scale-like patterns shimmering in the dim lights.

“I'll kill you,” Masa barked in the Nihlyn tongue.

“You would lose the gift I offer you.” The words hung lyrical in the air. Masa frowned and examined the alien closer. No weapons, long white robes...

She jerked back a step, amazed at her stupidity. “Korex,” she whispered. All Nihlyn gave off the energy that set Terrans on edge and messed with long distance communications, but only Korex could manipulate that energy at will to devastating effects. Masa was dead.

“Yes.” The Korex dipped her head again. “A gift that could lead to peace.”

Masa dropped the pistol a little. “Could?”

“There is no guarantee, but our leaders believe it strongly viable.”

“Our? You mean your leaders.”

She chirred, a sound similar to insects scraping across concrete. “My gift might change that.”

“What is your gift?” Masa reached behind her for her camera.

The Korex shifted suddenly, raising a hand. Her camera jumped into the air and fell back down out of reach with a crash.

“Hey!” Masa raised her pistol again, aiming straight for the Korex's head. “I'll shoot you! I will!”

“This cannot be filmed,” the Korex replied. “My gift is the power of energy manipulation.”

Masa stared at the alien. The forest fire had grown from a crackle to a roar around them. The cathedral was heating up.

“You- you can do that?”

“We think so. Doing so will help to convince your leaders that we are all equals, and stop the fighting. We are willing to compromise. This war has gone on too long.”

“How?” Masa demanded. “How could we manipulate energy?”

“Do you trust me?”

“I have no reason to.”

“How badly do you want the war to end?”

Masa thought of the stained-glass window behind her. Could such beauty be restored if the war ended?

“... Is it safe?”

“Quite.”

“Why hasn't it been done before?”

“We were too enraged to look for other solutions. Since you Terrans remain enraged, we must find some way to help you calm down.”

Outside, a tree groaned and collapsed against the cathedral wall.

“Why me?”

The Korex stepped closer. “You observe. We know you want the war to end.”

“So do many others,” Masa muttered.

“But they continue to fight.”

Masa slowly lowered the gun.

“Do you trust me?” the Korex asked again.

For peace. To restore ancient beauty. To gain unimaginable strength. To stop the death. Even if it was a trap, the Korex could kill her in a moment and she would feel no pain.

“I do,” she whispered. “Change me. Make me like you.”

The Korex stepped closer, arms outstretched and crackling with energy. “Thank you,” the Korex said. “Together, we will start to build the bridge to peace between our races.”

Masa closed her eyes and waited for whatever fate may come. Peace or death. Beauty or the end of all sight. Energy rippled across her skin in painful waves. She took a deep breath and tasted coppery blood. The Korex touched her shoulders. Her world spun white, even with closed eyes. Pain arched across her body, each nerve set alight. She screamed and tried to pull away, but found her limbs unresponsive. Her biosuit should have protected her. The Korex was going to kill her. And it was not a quick, painless death.

Masa screamed again in unimaginable pain. Her nerves felt stretched and branded. New sensations rushed through her brain: the movement of the fire outside, the missile about to be launched from the station five kilometers away, her gun at her side. And then her own heartbeat. And the heartbeat of the Korex. The pain vanished.

Masa opened her eyes. The world strummed with new light and new movement. She was aware of everything that moved, of the blood in their systems and the synapses firing in their brains.

“I am glad you chose to trust me,” the Korex said. “Your expression makes it evident that you now have the awareness of a Korex, if not the power.”

Masa smiled. “I am glad too. This is... magnificent.”

The Korex extended a hand. “Come with me, and I will teach you everything.” Masa immediately took the alien's hand.

“You were right,” she said. “If we can teach the other Terrans to see like this, then the war will end.”

Will have to carry this over to December cos of that but oh well.