56. Deadline

The walk back to my dorm is slow and unpleasant. I’m out of excuses, really. I’m out of time. Procrastinating further isn’t going to make it easier for me to steal Castalia’s stone. It just gives all my friends more opportunities to figure out what’s wrong with me. Maybe I was aware of that, at least subconsciously. By dragging my feet and not thinking about things for as long as possible, I could try to run out the clock without making any active moves against my master. But it’s too late now. The last of my hope is gone. Barring some kind of extenuating circumstance, I make my move tonight.

I keep my sensors actively scanning as I walk onto campus, trying to make sure Eliza isn’t skulking anywhere nearby. Unfortunately, she’s nowhere to be found. Either she went to bed, she went off to deal with a convergence, or she’s hiding somewhere in human form. All three of those possibilities are acceptable for the plan. I trudge up the stairs to my room and unlock the door.

“You’re back,” Bean comments as I walk in.

“You’re awake,” I type into my phone. “You’re going to be miserable tomorrow if you don’t get some sleep.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m going to be miserable tomorrow no matter what,” Bean counters. “I take it none of the others have gotten through your thick skull yet?”

It wouldn’t matter if they did. I don’t have a brain in there anyway.

“You are too persistent for your own good,” I comment. And that’s really true, isn’t it? If Bean keeps pushing this hard, I’m going to have to… no, don’t think about it, don’t think about it!

“What do you expect from me, Luna?” Bean demands, exasperated. “I thought I lost you forever. Now that you’re finally back, I can’t even tell if it’s really you anymore! I thought we’d be able to trust each other for anything. We’ve both helped each other through so much shit, but now, when it matters most, you’re basically just telling me to fuck off.”

You know, that’s an interesting philosophical question. Am I still me? I didn’t even believe souls existed until this all started. Do they matter as much as I’ve assumed? I feel like I’m still myself, but what if that’s not even true? What if that’s another thing she took from me?

“This situation is different,” I tell them. “I know that’s not a satisfying answer, but it’s true. If I could rely on your help for this, I would love to. But that’s not how it works.”

Bean stares at me, their eyebrows furrowed.

“…You’ve said so many times that you can’t tell me what’s going on,” they say slowly. “But you mean that literally, don’t you? That’s what we haven’t been getting. You actually, physically can’t tell us what’s going on.”

My power reserves have increased to 92%. Oh, no. No no no.

Bean, you incredible, horrible idiot. I already warned you that you can’t share information like that with me! You can’t tell me what you know! But it’s too late now. Fuck. Fuck! No, calm down, they don’t know everything yet. I can still salvage this. I can still save them!

But at this point, there’s only one thing that will do it.

“Pack your stuff,” I order them. “Come with me.”

Bean’s eyes go wide.

“What?” they ask.

“You heard me,” I insist, walking over to the couch to start grabbing their stuff and shoving it in their backpack for them.

“Hey, hey! Don’t touch—”

I whirl on them, grabbing them by the collar and forcing their face close to mine. My power reserves have increased to 93%.

“I warned you,” I tell them. Out loud. “I must have warned you a dozen fucking times. But you just had to keep trying to kill yourself. Here I thought we had both gotten over that.”

Bean tries to respond, but I cover their mouth with my other hand, cutting off their words.

“No,” I say firmly. “No sound, no protests. I am getting you out of here right now, and if you try to do anything other than exactly what I tell you to do, it is going to go very, very badly for both of us. Am I finally making myself clear?”

Slowly, Bean nods. I drop them, and the two of us finish packing up all of Bean’s stuff before heading out of the apartment together. A quick search online helps me find the bus schedule, and the two of us start heading to the closest stop that will take them out of town. Bean doesn’t have the information or experience necessary to put together all the pieces, but I can’t let them talk any more with my other friends. Oh, right. In that case…

“Give me your phone,” I order. “And pull your laptop out.”

Bean complies, and I quickly pop the back of their phone open to remove the battery, pocketing it. The laptop, unfortunately, isn’t designed to let its battery out without significant deconstruction, so I just keep the entire thing. Reaching my hand into my pocket, I pull about a thousand dollars in cash from my storage space and put it in Bean’s awaiting hand alongside their phone.

“Here,” I say. “Should be enough for a replacement battery and a place to stay, at least for a bit. I could wire you more later, maybe? But probably not. Anyway, you’re getting on this bus and you’re not getting off until the last stop. Understand?”

“No,” Bean answers. “Of course I don’t. God, I was so excited to get to meet you in person. But this is just… this has been hell.”

My power reserves have increased to 94%.

“Pretty much, yeah,” I agree. “If it wasn’t obvious, none of this is your fault. I’m not really sure how much of it is my fault, either, but probably enough of it to blame me, if you want.”

“I should have kept my mouth shut,” Bean sighs. “You did warn me. I just never thought… I don’t know what I was thinking. I just want my friend back.”

I lean in and give them a hug. I don’t really deserve one myself, but they look like they need it.

“I know,” I say. “I’m sorry. But in case it wasn’t clear, this is for your protection, okay? You can’t come back here. And you can’t talk with the Earth Guardians ever again. Understand?”

“Still no,” Bean says. “But I’ll do what you say. Thirteenth time’s the charm, right?”

“Yeah, a famously lucky number,” I sigh. “I really do love you, Bean. I’m sorry. Goodbye.”

Despite the words of departure, I stay close enough nearby to make sure Bean does actually get on the bus when it arrives, watching it drive off and praying that it will be enough. At the very least, I think I’ve spooked them enough and delayed them enough that they won’t be able to contact anyone within the next few days. And by then… Luna will be dead anyway. The only thing left will be the artifact.

My second return to the dorm feels even more empty than the first. I return to campus, head up the stairs, unlock the door, and let myself in. Home, sweet home. The place Castalia was always so happy to share with me. To have someone who cared about her again. Who looked past Castalia, the world’s strongest Earth Guardian, and just saw Castalia the person. Saw how sad she was, how difficult it is for her to express her emotions despite how strongly she feels them. She’s kind, loyal, fiercely protective of the people she cares about, and delightfully, adorably terrible with spicy food. I would do almost anything to help her be happy. But instead, what I’m about to do to her may very well just kill her instead.

My power reserves have increased to 95%.

I head to the door to her room. The lock will be trivially easy to pick. Her transformation stone hangs around her neck even while she sleeps. It will rest in the same place as always, right below her collarbone, because her untransformed body is so weak it can’t even turn over in its sleep. I’ll have to remove her respirator to get it off. I wonder if it would be a mercy not to put it back on afterward.

My power reserves have increased to 96%.

My hand moves for the doorknob. Am I really about to do this? I know I don’t have any choice, but… surely there’s something? Something that I can do to give her just that much more of a shot? Something I could do to make sure someone, anyone, stops me? But that’s the way it always works. The more I think about it, the fewer options I’ll end up having. No more delays. It’s time to kill her.

But there’s a chance… there’s always a chance she’ll wake up while I remove it. Castalia is an immensely heavy sleeper, but it’s possible. And if she does wake up, the last thing I want her to see is my face. So before I pick the lock of her door, I take a moment to focus, and return my disguise to storage. Luna isn’t here anymore. It’s just the artifact. The artifact can’t betray its friends, because it has never been on their side to begin with.

My power reserves have increased to 97%.

I pick the lock. I quietly open the door. Castalia sleeps there in front of me, in the same position as always, the machine beside her pushing shallow breaths into her lungs. I approach her, my sensors meticulously cataloging everything to ensure that she is indeed asleep and that the two of us won’t be interrupted. There it is, on her chest. The transformation stone. My target. There’s no way in hell I’ll break the necklace’s chain, at least not without spending enough magic to alert every Earth Guardian in the city. So first, she has to be disconnected from the machine. It’s easy enough to do what I’ve already done a dozen times in reverse. Without the help, her lungs immediately start to struggle. I have to be quick. I haven’t been outright ordered to kill her, at least.

With one hand, I grab the transformation stone. With my other hand, I carefully cup the back of her head. I have to lift her up slightly off the pillow to work the chain out. It would be more than enough to wake anyone else, but Castalia’s condition means that her body requires so much rest that she probably couldn’t wake up even if I shook her as hard as I could. And sure enough, she doesn’t stir.

My power reserves have increased to 98%.

Carefully yet swiftly, I maneuver the necklace off of her body, a single second stretching out to what seems like an hour as I make sure I’m ready to instantly react in case anything goes wrong. But there’s nothing. I lay her head back down on her pillow, plugging her back into her ventilator with her stone resting firmly in my grip. The most powerful weapon in the entire world, stolen in moments. It feels too easy. And yet… here we are. I’ve done it.

My power reserves have increased to 99%. I am so, so sorry.

Stepping away, I turn to go. But as I reach the door, time once again slows down for my body. A bloom of magic erupts behind me, and though not an ounce of it is happiness, it’s still easy to pinpoint the source. Castalia’s eyes have shot open, her soul swelling with terror, anger, and desperation. These are not the emotions her stone is configured to accept, but she doesn’t have her stone right now, does she? I have it. And yet, a telekinetic force roars to life in my palm, forcing my fingers apart a split second before Castalia’s entire bedroom explodes.

The shockwave of the blast launches me away alongside the rubble that was the wall of the dorm room building. I tumble through the air before I can get my thrusters deployed, correcting my angular momentum but not bothering to try and slow myself down. My mind is desperately running through calculations to try and figure out some way this means I haven’t completely failed my master’s orders, but there’s nothing I can think of that feels like it could actually take the stone from her now.

I feel sick. It’s like my soul wants to vomit. I failed. I failed, I failed! I lost the stone! I can’t even be happy about it; I can’t even feel the relief of knowing I haven’t killed her just because of how much agony I’m put through by the realization. It’s not pain, not really, but in some ways it’s so much worse. I can only compare it to the kind of full-bodied illness that used to drive me to spend hours curled up in the shower, trying to fight off the feeling with scalding water because my body lost the ability to produce its own heat.

Yet I have to keep going. After all, I can’t let myself fail another order on top of everything else. My highest priority order, given to me by my master, remains thus: you will not allow yourself to die.

I skip over a rooftop, pushing off the building as I pass over it, keeping myself in the air so I can continue flying away from a very angry Castalia. The only thing on my mind right now is maximizing speed, and that means maintaining the momentum I was so kindly given by that telekinetic explosion.

Unfortunately, this turns out to be a miscalculation. There are a lot of things one has to consider during a fight, a lot of little factors that are easily overlooked but can lead to massive consequences if ignored. For someone as powerful as Castalia, there’s a fairly straightforward issue that I have inadvertently removed for her by keeping myself so high in the air.

Overpenetration.

I’m too far away to hear her cast, but my sensors can’t mistake the sheer scale of the spell heading my way. With my excellent vision, I can still see Castalia lining up her shot, a half-dozen magic circles rotating around her stump arm and the invisible memory of the rest of her arm. Yellow energy gathers at where her palm would be, growing, brightening, and shining with such an intensity the color moves from yellow to white. It gathers into a sphere, expanding in size once, twice, and then suddenly collapses into nothing an instant before a cylindrical beam of power as thick as a city street erupts toward me and blinds every last one of my sensors to everything but my impending annihilation.

The good news: I have scans and data gathered from Castalia’s skirmish with Melpomene and consequently I have shield designs pre-prepared to optimally redirect the glut of energy heading my way so I have to directly absorb as little of it as possible. I’ve also got a nearly full battery, and that means I have plenty of energy to spare.

The bad news: Castalia.

I barely reconfigure my shields in time, and when the beam connects, it almost shatters them instantly regardless. Thankfully, the design does its job, and with all my power going directly into a forward wedge I can barely keep myself intact… from the initial impact. Most of the beam passes around me, swallowing me within it, but I know that I have a lot more than the initial impact to endure. My power reserves plummet, falling all the way down to sixty percent, then forty, then thirty, then all the way back down to twenty-five percent before the attack finally starts to let up. The entire time, I’m subtly adjusting and refining my shield spell, continuing to apply the adjustments necessary for even one percent better efficiency. I’m going to need to squeeze every last drop of it I can into my spells, because this attack just launched me even higher into the air, and I’m effectively a sitting duck. Or… a flying duck? That is easier to hit somehow? Whatever. I’m going to die. Probably for the best.

Except… no follow-up attack comes. I realize, once the beam finally subsides, that it has actually launched me all the way out of town, and as best I can tell, Castalia isn’t following me. Thinking about it now, that actually makes perfect sense. She blew up a significant chunk of the dorm building in her panic. She’s not the sort of person to fly off and continue fighting when there are people in front of her potentially in danger.

Also, she’s almost certainly looking for me. You know, fake me. The lie I’ve been telling her this whole time. I’m sure she’s worried sick about it.

Once more, my power reserves begin to rise again. Twenty-seven percent. With the way things are going now, I’m sure they’ll be close to full before long. After all, once I finally land and tumble to a stop, there will be nothing for me to do but return to the castle and report my failure to my master. From here on out, there’s nothing for me to do other than exactly what she says.

Outside of town, everything is a mismatched smattering of suburbs, farmland, and mostly artificial lakes to help feed the farmland. Thankfully, it’s the latter that I seem to be hurtling toward, more or less, and I use a few efficient bursts of thrust to make it a sure thing. I’m going fast, and I wouldn’t want that to translate into ruining someone’s crops or killing a cow when I eventually slam into the ground. These are the kind of speeds where water isn’t any safer of a landing for me, but it’s definitely safer for everyone else. The adjustments made, it’s only another second, and then I hit.

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The splash on impact would make a child jumping from the high dive jealous. It probably scares the shit out of the nearby animals and whoever owns this lake, but they’ll be okay. Naturally, I begin sinking to the bottom as soon as I breach the surface, but honestly? That’s fine. My shielding fares much better against the nonmagical impact than it did against Castalia’s world-splitting death laser, so my plating is fully intact and water-tight. I get my bearings on the lake bottom and just start walking toward shore, trudging through the silty muck. The water makes every movement irritatingly slow, but the weight on my systems hardly matches the weight of my own actions. I’ll be fine.

Fortunately or unfortunately, the castle is indeed converging today, and there will likely be no impediments between me and ‘home.’ The walk is longer than normal, and it necessitates hopping a few fences and ignoring a rather curious bovine, but I soon make it to my destination. The liminal zone. A space that is endlessly repeating, hosting countless battles with wildly destructive combatants yet always seeming pristine the next time one enters. The only things that remain constant are the things that are bought in from the outside. When trash litters the streets, it’s always because the trash is in that spot in the real world. When a corpse is made here by some unfortunate human who didn’t heed the evacuation warnings, it will be returned to the real world when the space collapses.

Yet that rule isn’t consistent. Most people’s possessions don’t transfer over to the liminal space. A person’s dresser drawers and the clothes inside them won’t appear in the liminal space when it manifests, but the clothes on a person’s body will if they get caught inside. The bed in their bedroom won’t appear in the liminal space either… unless they were sitting on it or sleeping in it. Yet for other things, no person has to be nearby. Again, the trash on the streets remains. But I think… the trash in a landfill wouldn’t. Nor trash inside trash cans. Nothing that belongs is taken. Perhaps the liminal space is exclusively for the lost. I wonder what that says about humans themselves.

The emptiness of it calms me, somewhat paradoxically. I might be the only person who isn’t a present or former Earth Guardian to survive here for an extended period of time, despite the ironic fact that, y’know, I’m in this situation almost entirely because I nearly died. It’s weird to think about how most humans wouldn’t be harmed by extended liminal space exposure. Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe there are people who refuse to leave their homes during an evacuation like there are with other natural disasters. Other natural disasters don’t usually have human-sensing biological homing missiles that eat people, though. I can’t imagine they have a good survival rate.

Haah. Survival rate. I’m getting pretty good at not thinking about things I don’t want to think about, aren’t I? I suppose it’s an important skill for being the Cage of Returning Pain. Alas, my respite will soon come to an end. I’m almost at the portal. And naturally, Eliza is here waiting for me. What a horribly persistent bitch. I wish I could thank her.

I make a cursory effort at stealth as I approach the portal, getting as close as I can to it before Fulgora inevitably spots me. And it is Fulgora, not Minerva, and unlike Minerva it seems she didn’t benefit at all from whatever enlightenment-based transformation that empowered her counterpart so much. Still, I’m relatively low on power. And after what I just did, Fulgora is no doubt out for blood.

“…It’s you,” she says, scowling when she notices me step out from a nearby alleyway. I don’t react, simply heading toward the portal at a hopefully nonthreatening pace. “What the hell have you even been doing on Earth anyway? I never see you there.”

I don’t answer. Obviously. Though I am surprised to note that by Fulgora standards, she doesn’t seem that angry. Did she… no, wait. She probably just wasn’t on campus when everything went down. She must have headed off to train in the liminal zone after I bullshitted my way away from her. She doesn’t know. She doesn’t know what I just did. Has she been… thinking about everything I told her?

“I don’t know why I’m talking to a robot,” Fulgora sighs. “But you probably act as a camera. All those videos of the Dark World had to come from somewhere. Someone can hear me, right?”