60. Reunited

“Goodness!” Uma’tama exclaims as I push past the Earth Guardians. “Thea, dear…”

“Please give us some space!” I call back to them.

“Oh, alright,” Uma’tama says, sounding a little disappointed.

“What do you mean ‘oh, alright?'” Amaterasu groans. “Shouldn’t we be keeping an eye on them?”

“But they asked for some space,” Uma’tama points out. Wow. What a great cat. They deserve treats later.

For now, though, I follow Thea as she turns down another hall and ends up barging into a messy-looking room. She tries to close the door on me, but I hold out my arm and stop it before it can latch.

“G—” Thea starts to shout at me, but she cuts herself off, smacking her hands over her own mouth as the tears redouble.

She was about to tell me to go away. That’s the only logical… no, it’s not the only logical extrapolation actually, it could have been any number of things, I probably don’t need to go away because it would be terrible to leave my master alone while she’s distressed, right? Right. Of course. Makes perfect sense. I force myself to stop thinking about it and push into the room, latching the door behind me.

The room is mostly bare, with an entirely unused bed in one corner, a pile of all the blankets and sheets that would be on it on the floor next to it, and a basket of unfolded laundry sitting next to an empty dresser. Thea’s personal room, I assume. Most of her stuff is probably in the workshop. I can only assume Uma’tama forced her to actually sleep in here instead of in there.

“I’m sorry,” Thea blubbers. “I’m sorry. I’m already screwing everything up.”

I synthesize a sigh, checking my memory banks for a particular spell. I’ve been ordered not to talk about this, but it’s obvious that we need to talk about this. We just also need to make sure no one overhears. Fortunate, then, that I have so much experience with masters having this exact issue. I feel my spell core unlock and spool online, and my memory reminds me of the exact formulae used in the privacy ward on Melpomene’s own room. It costs a hefty four percent of my already dwindling reserves to activate, but soon enough our room is locked and soundproof.

“There,” I say. “This should be safe enough. A Preserver could probably teleport in here, but I’ll sense it if they do, and we’ll be able to just stop talking. So. First things first: I understand. You’re fine, Thea.”

“It’s not fine,” she insists.

“It’s not good,” I correct, “but as a temporary measure it is fine. You’re going to still be working to fix this, right?”

“Of course!” she insists. “Of course.”

“Then you made the right call,” I say. “I’d rather be online and chained to you than dead somewhere on the Preserver homeworld, okay? And this is the best time to have a breakdown over it, since everyone is going to assume you’re crying about Melpomene.”

“I’m not not crying about Melpomene,” she sniffs. “I… she’s…”

“I know,” I assure her. “You don’t have to say it.”

In fact, I would rather you didn’t say it. I don’t want to have to hear that you still love her, even after all this.

“But there’s also you,” Thea says, wiping off her face with her hands. “I thought it would be easy. I just wouldn’t give you any orders! But it’s… it’s more complicated than that, isn’t it? I didn’t mean to order you around, but it’s just any imperative statement, isn’t it? I promise I didn’t mean to, I’m really really sorry.”

“It’s… more than that,” I tell her hesitantly. “Honestly, orders aren’t even the biggest thing. The way it works is that I’m compelled to act in whatever way I think you’ll want most or is best for your interests. Orders just make what you want more explicit. I can disobey them, but only if I honestly think they aren’t something you really mean.”

“Oh, frick,” Thea says, deflating even further. “That’s… I…”

God I’m making her miserable. Should I not have told her all of that…? Surely she’d want to know, right? Yeah. Of course she would. I need to not overthink this!

“Trust me, Thea, I’m used to dealing with a lot worse,” I tell her. “Melpomene would…”

This is not something she would want me to tell her about, actually. She wouldn’t want to know how I was beaten, or the ways that woman would force me to accompany her and talk to her and do things for her that were frankly far worse than any threats of physical violence.

“…It’s not important,” I lie. “But what matters is that knowing you want the best for me means I can interpret what I have to do in that light. And that is a huge deal. You care about me. You genuinely care about me. If you accidentally end up making me do something, and I know you didn’t mean to, then you haven’t actually made me do it. Neat little trick, yeah? It’s a bit of a safety net.”

It was horrible before, of course, since Mel very much did not have my best interests at heart, but I think that little loophole will come in a lot more handy now. But there’s no need to point that out; the important thing right now is making Thea feel better about all this.

“I don’t like this,” Thea insists, sniffling up some dripping snot. “I don’t like this at all.”

“Good!” I say. “I would be concerned if you did! But you saved my life, Thea. That had to come first. The rest of this, we can figure out together, okay?”

“Wouldn’t it be safer if you just… stayed away from me?” Thea groans.

“I don’t think that’s going to be an option,” I tell her. “And besides, I don’t want to.”

Even if, yes, it would be safer. It would be smarter. Minimizing the number of situations where Thea can influence me might help her feel better… but she’s also obviously in desperate need of a direct emotional support system. Uma’tama means well, but they have no idea what they’re doing. Then we have Castalia, who seems to have completely isolated herself again waiting for me to get back, and finally the rest of the Earth Guardians, who all treat her with various degrees of suspicion and/or are eleven years old, tops. Not the best company for someone having a serious emotional crisis as a result of the most important person in her life turning out to be a complete fucking monster in every sense of the word.

Thea needs me. I can’t avoid her. The fact that I also don’t want to is merely a fortunate coincidence. But after all this? I will take a goddamn fortunate coincidence. I certainly think I’m owed a few!

“Come on, Thea, let’s get back out there before anyone gets too suspicious,” I say. “It’s going to be okay, I promise.”

“How will I know?” she whimpers. “How will I know I’m not doing something to you?”

“Well, you’re an empath, right?” I remind her. “As long as I don’t feel like I did eight months ago, you’re probably doing pretty okay!”

Gah. That didn’t make her feel better. Too soon, I guess. It’s a good thing I physically can’t vomit!

“Ready to go?” I ask, trying to brush past it.

“S-sure,” Thea says. “Okay.”

I remove all traces of the privacy spell as best as I can and open the door for her, taking her by the hand and gently leading her back to the others as she desperately tries to wipe the rest of the mucus off her face. They’re all just standing awkwardly around where we left them, arguing in hushed tones.

“Okay, we’re back!” I say to everyone as cheerfully as I can. “You wouldn’t happen to have any tissues in this secret alien paramilitary base, would you?”

“…I have some in my room,” Veritas says with a scowl. “I’ll go get some.”

“Thanks, Veritas,” I say.

She huffs and walks off. I guess you can only toss a girl like a discus so many times before she starts to get annoyed with you. …Nonconsensually, anyway. In the right circumstances, I’m sure a lot of people would enjoy being tossed around. Maybe we should get Veritas a bouncy castle.

“We’re sorry, Thea,” Uma’tama coos, floating over to place a reassuring paw on the girl’s head. “We did not consider how stressful this conversation would be for you.”

“It… it’s alright,” Thea says softly. “I just… I don’t understand why she would ever say something like that. Why she would ever think anything like that.”

“It is not like the Melpomene I knew,” Castalia agrees softly.

“Am I the only one here who remembers the existence of Dark World corruption?” Amaterasu asks. “She is insane.”

“W-well I’ve been living in the Dark World just as long as she has, and I’m not insane!” Thea protests, her tail thrashing against the ground. “I mean… I hope?”

“…You are barely even human anymore,” Amaterasu says, instinctively stepping back when the crystal blade on Thea’s tail strikes against the ground. “The very fact that is so mundane to you is evidence something has altered your mind.”

Thea’s expression of hurt nearly causes me to flinch. Okay, stepping in.

“That’s idiotic,” I tell Amaterasu bluntly. “You’ve seen Thea’s incarnate form, you know she doesn’t self-identify as what the Dark World turned her into. You’re just being an asshole for no reason.”

“Language!” Aurora protests, stamping her foot.

“I’m right, though,” I press. “To be honest, I don’t know if the Dark World mists actually drive anyone insane. Personally, it’s a little too convenient of an explanation for my tastes. You know what else can drive someone insane? Isolation. Alienation. Being made into an outsider and treated like a monster. All of that applies to the Dark Rebellion, too.”

“Are you saying it’s our fault that you and your friends tried to kill us in an unprovoked attack!?” Amaterasu growls.

“Oh no, absolutely not,” I say, holding up my hands in surrender. “Seriously, I cannot possibly overstate the degree to which I hate those…”

I glance at Aurora.

“…Jerks,” I decide on. “My point is the opposite: no matter how crazy they are or why, they’re responsible for their own decisions and should be judged based on those decisions. Nothing else. Being a weird monster person should not be an issue. The murder and mind control should be the issue, and Thea is pretty obviously on our side there. I mean, she turned herself in, right?”

“The thing about turning yourself in is that you only need to do it if you are guilty of crimes,” Amaterasu growls.

“Oh no! How horrible!” I mock. “Someone feels guilty about a bad thing they were involved in! Better treat them like shit instead of supporting their desire to atone, that’ll certainly lead to good places!”

“L—”

“Language, I know, sorry,” I sigh. “I just… Thea doesn’t deserve this, okay? All this bad stuff that happened to me was behind her back, and everything she got involved with made my life dramatically better. She is a fundamentally good person, and she saved my life, and I’m not going to let any of you be mean to her!”

“Are you threatening me?” Amaterasu asks dangerously.

“Oh my god, NO!” I snap back at her. “Why is that your first assumption? Oh who am I kidding, you’re a goddamn child soldier, of course your first reaction to everything is violence. No, Amaterasu, I’m afraid that normal people usually try to solve disputes with their words rather than their magical death beams. That is all that I meant.”

“I do not think you qualify as a normal person, robot.”

“Oh, so we’re resorting to racism now,” I sigh. “Classy.”

“Wh-what!?”

“Okay! We think that perhaps this conversation should be ending for now!” Uma’tama says loudly. “Amaterasu, we know that we’ve talked about this before, but do try to give Thea a chance. We believe she has shown her trustworthiness and willingness to be one of us again. Luna, please do not rile Amaterasu up. She is not even a red mage.”

“Is that really the problem here?” I ask.

“Well, we are fairly sure it is also not very nice,” Uma’tama concedes.

“Great! Awesome! We are hitting the barest minimum of social comprehension,” I groan. “I can’t handle this right now. [Sᴋᴇᴛɪsᴏʜ]!”

Amaterasu and Aurora leap back and grab their stones because I guess their dumb organic brains can’t determine every effect of a spell before it completes casting, but all that happens is a flash of light surrounds me, and all of a sudden I’m wearing my skinsuit again, complete with the outfit I had on… eight fucking months ago, I guess. Fortunately, hiding away in extradimensional space seems to be good for avoiding wear and tear.

“Don’t just suddenly cast spells in the middle of the base!” Amaterasu hisses.

“I just spent the last few months of my life from my perspective enslaved and forced to follow the orders of a crazy lady who actively enjoyed making me suffer, so maybe don’t tell me what to do!” I snap back. “I’m officially an Earth Guardian now, right?”

“Er, well yes, we suppose,” Uma’tama confirms.

“And you don’t force Earth Guardians to hang out in the base against their will?” I press.

“We do not,” Uma’tama says firmly.

“Then I am leaving,” I declare. “Because apparently, I have been unconscious for the last eight months, and none of you bothered to tell any of my friends what happened to me! Seriously, what the hell!?”

“Did… did you just turn back into a human…?” Aurora gapes at me.

Oh my god.

“Thea. Castalia,” I say with false sweetness. “Did you explain anything about me to anyone?”

“Y-yes!” Thea insists. “I told Castalia about the skinsuit I made, she just didn’t believe me.”

“…I believe you now,” Castalia says.

Oh my god I am so mad right now. Maybe half as mad as Bean is going to be at me for doing this to them again. I was distracted before with the whole ‘coming back to life’ and ‘my master running away to her room to sob’ bits, but I can’t fucking believe Castalia just never told anyone I was alive. Even if she didn’t know for sure, she seriously never said anything? She didn’t reach out once?

Wait. Who am I kidding? Of course she didn’t. She didn’t reach out to Melpomene for six whole years, and they had been together for like, what, a decade beforehand? Castalia is so socially inept that she’s one of the most famous people in the entire world, and yet she didn’t successfully make a single friend until she was forced to live with someone. She’s like, pathologically incapable of reaching out to people.

Oh fuck. Am I empathizing with Melpomene? Nuh-uh, nope, screw that. I’m forgiving Castalia out of spite. And also because of my huge crush probably.

“Castalia, you’re coming with me to apologize to your friends,” I declare. “And also to not drive Amaterasu up the wall thinking about an artifact walking around and living her life without supervision.”

“…Su-san,” Amaterasu mumbles.

“Huh?” I say.

“You may call me Su-san,” she clarifies. Oh! Huh. Nickname or preferred name? I guess it’s something of a peace offering either way. I wonder if the change in heart is because I look like a human now.

“Okay, will do,” I nod to her. “Does anyone have any objections to me telling the people I care about what happened to me? Am I obligated to keep any of this a secret still?”

“As an Earth Guardian, it is your duty to not allow artifacts into the wrong hands,” Uma’tama says. “You must not by any means share how your body functions or pass along any information on how one might potentially recreate it. But the nature of your existence is not, in itself, a secret. Most of the world has already seen recordings of the battle that took place at your school.”

“…Oh,” I say. That kinda sucks. People are probably going to assume I’m evil and/or crazy if I go outside without wearing any skin. Lame.

Still, though! I have official permission to tell my friends what happened! That’s… pretty awesome, honestly. It’s been a long time coming. I hope they can forgive me, but even if they don’t, I owe it to them to tell them what happened.

“I brought some tissues,” Veritas says, stepping back into the hallway. “Wait, who’s that? Where did the robot go?”

“I’m the robot,” I sigh. “And you’ve met me before! I bought you lunch, remember?”

“Huh,” Veritas says, blinking once, then twice. “Huh!? Wait, what!? But you don’t look like a robot at all! You don’t act like a robot either!”

“Yeah, I was being forced to pretend,” I remind her. “I think I remember Aurora almost figuring me out, though. Didn’t she mention anything?”

“I did,” Aurora pouts. “Several times.”

“The artifact bought me lunch…?” Veritas says quietly, not seeming to have paid much attention to either of us.

“Well,” I say, “if you didn’t know Thea was a genius before, you know she is now. Even I’ll admit it’s crazy how well this disguise held up.”

Thea mumbles something unintelligible and almost certainly cute. I poke her in the cheek, causing her to repeat the process. Wow. Automatic noise-making device. Amazing.

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“Anyway, we’re leaving I guess,” I say. “If anyone is planning to stalk Castalia and me because you don’t trust me, then just come with us normally and don’t be weird about it. Okay? Okay. Great. Castalia, how do we leave?”

“This way,” Castalia says, floating gently past me and down the hall.

“Your friend is very bossy, Castalia,” Aurora comments as she passes by.

“Yes,” Castalia agrees. “It’s nice.”

Uh? I think I should be blushing. Although… I guess I don’t have to do any of the pretend-to-be-human stuff anymore. I’m mostly just wearing the skin because it’s either this or my delicate internals being exposed to the elements.

“What do you mean it’s nice?” I ask, power-walking to catch up with my floating guide.

“It… can be hard to do things on my own sometimes,” Castalia admits. “You were right. I should have spoken with our other friends. But I did not.”

“What exactly have you been doing for the past eight months?” I ask.

“Thinking,” she answers.

“Just… thinking?”

“Well, I have mostly returned to active duty as well,” Castalia says. “Our college classes were put on hold from all the damage, and they won’t resume until later this year. It was important that I still had something to do.”

“So you would go out, fight monsters, and then come back here and… think all day,” I summarize.

“Yes,” Castalia confirms.

“Well. Was it… productive?” I ask.

“No,” Castalia answers.

“Oh,” I say. “You’re depressed.”

“Probably,” Castalia agrees. “I have had to use sadness for a lot of my work lately.”

“Er, wait, how does that work?” I ask. “Wouldn’t that be basically worthless with your… oh. Oh gosh, how did I not notice?”

“Mmm,” Castalia hums, briefly causing her collarbone to glow where there is very distinctly no transformation stone.

“You didn’t get it replaced!?” I gape.

“I don’t need it,” Castalia answers. “And without a crystal intermediary through which to cast spells, it does not particularly matter what kind of magic I use. Sadness and happiness are equally efficient in the absence of a tool that specializes in one or the other.”

“Woah,” I manage. That… sounds pretty damn useful. “Tools are still intended to be a force multiplier though, right? It’s gotta be limiting to some degree to not use any at all.”

“It’s difficult,” Castalia confirms. “I suppose the portion of my time that was productive revolved around getting used to this new style of casting. It is complicated, but rewarding. I like it.”

“Well… congratulations, I suppose!” I say. “You really are incredible, you know that?”

“Not really,” Castalia says. “Though that does seem to be the prevailing opinion.”

“That’s definitely the depression talking,” I sigh, following her into a weirdly empty dead-end room with bright circles on the ground. The hell is this…? Castalia floats over one of them, so I join her, and… oh! Woah. This is a fancy teleportation spell! Aw, shoot, I can’t see all of the… oh.

All of a sudden, we’re outside, in some random-ass alleyway. Er… not so random, I suppose. Now that we’re officially on Earth (compared to… wherever the hell we just were), I can connect to the internet pretty fast, nabbing our GPS location and figuring out exactly where in town we popped out. I can also log into a few accounts, which… oh. Right.

Time for this again.

[MeanBeanMachine]: Hey. I have internet access again, no thanks to you. I heard something big went down. Can you at least tell me if you’re alive?

Well, it’ll be a good way to get power, at least.

[MeanBeanMachine]: No? Just ghosting me? Awesome. Incredible. You’re the shittiest fucking friend in the world.

My power reserves have increased to 13%.

[MeanBeanMachine]: Please don’t actually be dead. Please. Can you say something? Anything? Even just to tell me to shut up?

My power reserves have increased to 15%.

[MeanBeanMachine]: God damnit. God damnit don’t you dare do this to me again, Luna! Don’t you fucking dare! SAY SOMETHING!

My power reserves have increased to 17%.

[MeanBeanMachine]: Fuck you. You’d better actually be dead this time. If I have to mourn you a third time I don’t think I’ll survive it.

My power reserves have increased to 20%.

[MeanBeanMachine]: I miss you.

My power reserves have increased to 22%. And… that’s it. That’s their last message, from about four months ago. They definitely, actually think I’m dead this time. But… hey. They’re online.

God this is going to be so fucking awkward.

[LunaLightOTK]: So. Um. Good news. I can tell you everything now. Also: I am really, really, really, really, really sorry.

And the typing begins. Oh boy.

“Are you okay?” Castalia asks.

Huh? Oh. Right. Empath.

“Reading everything Bean sent me while they thought I was dead,” I say. “So not really.”

“Oh. I suppose you can do that, can’t you?”

“Yeah.”