Changeling

Mana termites were really ugly from up close.

Valerian slammed his sword against a mandible, chipping the skull as well. The creature backed up.

An opening.

He gathered mana in his left hand, weaving the spell with careful attention. This ought to work. He pushed the mana forward. The spell connected with the termite’s central nervous system easily enough this time. Giant termites were more complex than earth ones, unsurprisingly.

Valerian was forced to lunge to push back another assault. He activated the spell at the same time. The termite writhed, more surprised than debilitated, but it was enough. Nestra had been clear. She was not holding the creature down for him. Valerian struck and pushed through the shell, hitting the tritocerebrum at the back of the head. Immediately, the creature collapsed on itself.

He’d won his duel.

A little in front of him, Nestra finished that strange dance of hers, moving between larger termites with easy grace. The way she fought was strange and halting, sometimes moving forward in a rush of speed, sometimes slowing an attack just to land it after the termite attempted to block. She killed another warrior with a swing that Valerian wished he could see again in slow motion, then slipped into the flank of another, beheading it an instant later as it turned. It was as if she could guess what they were going to do. Maybe she did. And she wasn’t even using a single spell or ability.

It was a little bit frustrating.

With one last step back and a vertical strike, Nestra crushed the skull of their last foe. The termite patrol was defeated.

Valerian caught his breath. The air tasted dry and pungent on his tongue. He took out his bottle to take a refreshing gulp of purified water, luxuriating in the brief sensation. His eyes felt crusty, his hair matted with sweat and dust. He missed a good shower so much, but he wouldn’t trade this moment for the world. It was exactly what he had always wanted: fights he could win and enemies he could experiment with.

He’d had more opportunity to experiment in the past four hours than in the previous two years combined.

It was deeply depressing how someone having his back, really having his back and not just making sure he returns intact to the Nephrites, made a difference. He pressed a button on his sleeve and micro-vibrations unstuck the layer of gunk on his gloved fingers, freeing them to recover his sword. He turned to Crescent, expecting her to push him on, but she was looking in the distance. Possibly at more hostiles. Her eyesight was insanely good.

She was by far the least geared up raider he’d ever worked with. Even at D-class. The weird ‘Skin’ stuck to her form, revealing lean muscles that would really pass as human under normal scrutiny.

The contrast was jarring.

Valerian was used to being surrounded by deadlier fighters. As capable as Nestra was, he was sure some C-class teams and every B-class raider he knew could take her down, and yet he never felt the same… intensity of presence as with her. It was almost instinctual, a visceral warning cry that crawled in his reptilian brain, looking through his rational eyes like a bear out of its cave. A part of him felt that almost palpable pressure that came from Nestra’s alien nature, visible in little bursts of weirdness. Like in the way she stopped moving. Or when she was turning her horns in some direction. Little things, but they were cracks that marred the ‘transformed gleam’ image she could technically pretend to. He’d seen experienced teams do the relaxed attention thing after a fight when they recover and prepare for the next leg of the trip. They exuded competence, but it was a learned behavior. Mankind adapting to the new reality. Nestra was not adapting. This was her.

It was like she was designed for raiding at the cellular level, and the human persona was a grafted afterthought. Something to keep her sane between raids.

What the hell kind of species were those ‘Cacodaimon Anthropomimesis’? And… on whose side were they?

“Yes?”

Eyes so dark they swallowed the light watched impassively. He’d been staring.

“Just… wondering how to improve further.”

She waited a bit. Valerian let it happen. He wasn’t being ignored. She did the same thing in human form anyway, just stopping while she considered her reply.

“When you cast, what are you thinking about?” she finally asked.

Valerian felt himself frown. This was not what he’d expected.

“What do you mean, think about? Symbols, I guess? Reverse healing spells are extremely technical.”

“You are very focused and afraid of failure. You cast cautiously.”

“Yes. It’s a brand new discipline as far as I understand.”

She nodded.

“There is a healer’s mindset.”

“Correct. Detachment and attention to detail. A necessity when lifelong friends are bleeding out under your fingers.”

“But you are not healing a friend.”

She tilted her head, the horns catching a glint of the late afternoon sun.

“You are killing. You are not just doing so directly either, you are wrecking their nervous system. Turning their flesh against them.”

Annoyance filled Valerian’s chest. She didn’t know what she was talking about.

“I know well what it is I’m trying to do and how complex it can be.”

She shook her head, however, and Valerian did his best to shrug off the frustration that came with not being understood.

“This is an offensive spell you are trying to cast. You see that bird there?”

Valerian turned to a nearby cliff. He spotted a yellow bird, pretty, yet hard to spot against the ochre background of the old cracked stone. He wouldn’t have noticed without her pointing it out.

“Yeah, I do.”

Claws landed on his neck, the strength behind them so complete it stopped his jump of surprise.

“Kill it,” a cold voice hissed in his ear.

“Come on, haha, it’s just a damn bird.”

“It’s a portal beast. The only reason why it’s not killing you is that it lacks an opening. You are in a portal world. You are here to raid it, and it is here to murder you. This bird is a foe. Kill it. With meaning.”

“I am still working on ways to optimally affect avian —”

“No, no time. You have pain. Wield it.”

He hesitated.

“If you hesitate, if you let go, one day you’ll fail at a critical moment. Then you will spend hundreds of hours in your bed replaying that moment that could have saved your friends. You will see their faces. They will not blame you because they really were your friends and they went down fighting, but you will remember, and you will wonder, night after night, what would have happened if you’d been just a little bit faster, a little bit more decisive, paid a little bit more attention. You will go over every spell and every step with a regret and guilt that will hound you decade after decade after decade because your friends are dead and you are not. Because you fucked up. Now grab that pain you wield and fry the beast. Kill. That. Bird. Kill it.”

The comment struck a nerve in Valerian’s mind. Memories of walking in on his father after a nightmare and finding him awake, fingers clasped on the cover of the marital bed. It also echoed words he’d heard so many times. That he was not a warrior, and ought not to try.

“Now.”

Valerian grabbed his conditioning and broke it. His magic found the bird. It was a glorious amalgam of systems, each fulfilling a vital function. He found the nervous one immediately, then tried to isolate the nociceptor by remembering special runes associated with those lightly sheathed endings and—

“Kill.”

No need. He could just…. burn everything. Flood it. Overload every pathway.

Wasteful but…

“Kill.”

Simplicity. Stop thinking about efficiency. He was doing things wrong, starting with the complex. This was a new branch. He was fumbling. He could just… go basic. Very basic.

“KILL.”

The nerves, a tree blooming from the root of the somatosensory cortex. So pretty and fragile.

Burn it to the ground.

His magic lashed out like an ugly torch, a delicate instrument wielded like an improvised cudgel. Mana bled from him, far more than required, and yet, and yet… the spell felt… different.

Different by essence.

The bird jumped and thrashed. It convulsed before closing on itself like a grasped fist, a shivering ball of feathers over a hollowed husk. Valerian felt tired. His muscle lanced from the feedback, but that was…

That was what he needed.

“Of course, I have been trying to go from the top down but those are experimental spells. They need to start from the bottom. I need to start from the bottom.”

Nestra shrugged.

“Glad to help.”

“Your comment was very insightful. Ah… it felt a bit… personal as well?”

“My mother was a support and controller for the group she was part of. Most of them died, and she was by their side when they did. She is not living with it very well.”

“No. Like many people of her generation, I suppose.”

The two remained thoughtful for a moment.

“There is a side canyon with a minor guardian over there,” Nestra finally said. “I suggest we kill it, use its cave as dwelling for the night.”

“It’s still early. I can go on.”

“I know but we need to run back to get our supplies from base camp.”

Valerian frowned at that. There were only two now.

“Think I can take Naomi’s tent? It’s really nice but… sleeping in it would feel a little… sacrilegious.”

“You can’t,” Nestra said.

“Why?”

“It’s my kill.”

“Aw, come on.”

***

Valerian really spent far too much time in his head, Nestra thought. Far too intellectual for the battlefield but he was learning. She just had to cover his back while he figured out he was actually fighting and killing instead of ‘experimenting’. Whatever. He was a smart guy. He was already improving.

Her steps carried her upward, towards the end of the canyon where the towering hive of the mana termites waited. The home base of the many patrols still towered out of sight. She guessed there were two approaches here: either methodically wipe out the patrols and arrive tired, or rush in and take down the queen before she could call back her troops. Either choice had advantages and disadvantages, but just the two of them lacked the power to blow up an armored insect. Also, Valerian was here to cast. She didn’t mind taking the slow approach. The only thing was that Sheryl’s body was probably in the lair’s larder and there was a possibility the queen might overfeed to produce eggs quickly. The brief indicated that juveniles might swarm the hive, based on similar occurrences.

“We fight the queen tomorrow at noon,” she said with confidence.

“Yeah, better not to dally too much. Though I wish we could take our time.”

Nestra thought as much. Many portal worlds of this size had secrets. If she were alone, she would explore some more but… maybe another time.

“Let’s go clear our cave.”

***

Dry air made Nestra want to sneeze. This passage of the canyon was covered in sands, and empty except for the gnawed ends of cracked shells poking from the dune. Nestra walked with light steps across the dark desert, each monumental wall closing in on her. She could feel the strange mana coming from the jagged gash that served as a cave opening. The creature was waiting for them.

“Ssstay here,” she told Valerian.

“I can help.”

“Yes. Help, please. From here.”

“Alright.”

Nestra moved forward, each step sending ripples on the sand. Some sort of spell, no doubt. She walked as if unaware.

The sand roiled, trying to swallow her. She dove to the side and rolled, then jumped. A muzzle broke through the surface as if through water. Serrated yellow teeth snapped at the empty air.

Nestra aimed a bolt. The dot landed on an elongated face but the creature pivoted. Her spell landed on a thick layer of interlocked scales. They exploded. Blood flew, a red spray on the pristine ground.

Nestra charged but her thrust failed to pierce a fleeing tail. The monster was a mammal the likes of which she’d never seen. It was thin and close to the ground, with thick armor and lean muscles. It sprayed sand in her direction. She used momentum to reposition where its head was, then planted the sword down. It hit something. Claws surged towards her with blinding speed. One of them drew blood on her forearm through the thickened Skin.

Valerian’s magic connected with her. Immediately, the pain dulled while energy flooded her veins. She struck the exposed snout and saw the beady black eyes behind it flinch. She used immovable to stop the next attack, but the creature merely used the sword as a step up to jump over her. She twisted on herself and struck hard. Her attack broke a claw.

The creature tried to get some distance, and the sand grew hot and scalding. It would scour the skin off an unarmored fighter.

Nestra kept moving to prevent the quicksand effect from catching up to her. This was so damn fun. The beast was fast and agile, but its attacks were predictable and a smart hunter would prevail. She prepared a charged rush. Void mana masquerading as electricity filled her veins. Static made her hair rise and she felt the power rise with her horns. The beast didn’t care. It burrowed under the land, ready to pop up at a distance to try and peel her skin off. She raced ahead, inside of the cavern. There. Sand sprayed as the beast jumped.

Nestra smashed the tip of her edge of her sword against a soft belly. The blade bit deep but Nestra swore. She’d messed up, used to fighting with a shorter sword now. Could have disemboweled the creature clean off. It tried to recover but she was on it, and then, she released her hold on the electricity.

Void mana scoured the guardian. It screeched. The sound made her wince.

And then, it spasmed and fell.

Nestra was ready to pounce on it, but an influx of power filled her. The guardian was dead.

That… didn’t make sense.

“Huh?”

“I, uh, I killed it,” a sheepish voice came from behind.

Nestra turned to find Valerian standing at a distance, all the pride of a scion of a good family keeping his spine straight despite the filthy, mangled combat suit.

“You did?”

“I had time to set it up, and although the sub guardian was fast and strong, it lacked resistance to foreign magic so I managed to latch onto his essence and…”

“And what?”

“Gave it an aneurysm.”

Nestra blinked.

Sure people could fry monsters alive or freeze them in their spot or just do what she does and that was fine but… bursting a blood vessel in its brain? Really?

“My other option was a spinal tumor but it was just moving so much.”

“For sssome reasons, this is more horrifying than plain stabbing.”

Valerian shrugged. He was growing a little smug.

“This expedition has been very, very, very fruitful. Murder and kidnapping attempt notwithstanding.”

“Yesss. Let’s clear the place, then use it as shelter for tonight. And I have a question.”

“No, my magic does not ruin the meat,” Valerian replied with an expectant sighed.

“Not what I was going to ask,” Nestra lied. “Help me take the core out?”

“Oh, right. Money. You need money.”

“Nepo baby.”

“Pot, kettle.”

***

The orange sun was rising over the end of the canyon, on the far end of the entry portal. The sole passage led up, towards a small bridge leading to the uneven, organic tower of the termite hive. From closer, the mountainous structure dominated the entire portal world as it sat over the only exit. And that was just the exposed part. The colony always dug down. The curious part, as they watched the tower from the cover of a ledge, was the lack of flying specimens.

“Where are the patrols?” Nestra asked.

“Oh, I read about this from one of my uncles. If you eliminate enough members of a hive species, they can’t replace the numbers fast enough. I believe this is what we may have achieved.”

“Really?”

“Nestra, you’ve killed a LOT of them. You realize this, right?”

She thought about it. They’d killed large groups with the group first, then by themselves. Fifteen to twenty of them every time. That was two groups this morning and at least seven the day before.

Yeah, that might have done it. It was just that as interesting as it had been at first, there was nothing else to gain from them. Even the variations that used acid and improved the related resistance had stopped to get her anything. Now it was just a boring slaughter since she could just tell what they would do every time. Meh. She was really ready to move on.

Valerian was looking at her like she was an alien.

“What?”

“This might be a pretty weak C-class world but you should still take things seriously, please.”

“I am taking things seriously. Look, we’re even going to use strategy here.”

“You are making me feel inadequate.”

Aw, poor little baby.

“If it’s any comfort, you’ve made huge progress and you are now moderately useful,” she said.

Maybe she should pat his head while saying good job but… most scions of great clans didn’t appreciate unsolicited physical contact so maybe not.

“Riel. Thanks. Hmmm, what did you mean about using strategy?”

“Look,” she said, pointing at a small passage to the right of the nest.

“What is that?”

“Side access. The briefing said it was heavily patrolled but right now it’s empty. The colony must have decided to send the sentries on patrol instead. They’re not that smart. They don’t know how to handle a small group of powerful entities.”

“You want to enter by the side?”

Nestra nodded.

“Even if the patrols are mostly gone, they are bound to have lookouts. Termite sight isn’t that good but it’s not so bad that they would miss us walking up the ramp. No, I think the side passages are better.”

“They will have sentries as well though.”

“I’ll handle those.”

***

It wasn’t very hard to find the sentries since they had mana and they made no effort to hide. Nestra approached them from below using passe-muraille to approach undetected, then she killed them one by one. There were only three anyway. Unfortunately, Valerian had qualms.

“What the fuck is that smell?” he swore in a whisper.

It was rare of him to swear so it must have been bad. Nestra’s sensory resistance meant she could wade through what was basically a termite sewer without much issue. It was a bit like an uncleaned teenager’s room. Eye-watering but not utterly debilitating. Valerian had to be carried up the drain, however, and even Nestra shivered when she stepped on what was essentially decomposed meat sludge. Fortunately, it ended quickly and they found themselves in a tunnel.

A very small tunnel.

Nestra looked around. She would have to crawl. Even Valerian could barely stand.

“I guess they get bigger deeper in?” he whispered.

“Probably near the center. At least, warriors shouldn’t fit in easily.”

As they spoke, a juvenile arrived, carrying a sticky bundle of indeterminate trash in its mouth. Nestra saw some shell poking out so at least it wasn’t made of Sheryl. Still, she prepared to fight, only for the juvenile to simply walk away. She realized immediately why.

“It’s blind.”

“Juveniles are blind and they have poor hearing as well,” Valerian replied.

“It wasn’t in the brief.”

“No, because most C-class raiders have studied eusocial species since they’re abundant in Threshold’s portal worlds. Only if they molt into warrior castes will they develop eyes. Termites evolve as they molt until the final molt which will determine their castes for the rest of their lives. You never learned about this?”

He didn’t seem judgmental but the reminder Nestra was taken out of the gleam curriculum at sixteen still rankled a bit, even after all those years.

“I was training to fight.”

“Touché. Well, what now? We should probably recover Sheryl’s body first.”

“Let’s find their larder. The brief said they probably had only one.”

“It will be near the nursery.”

“Ok let’s find it then.”

Nestra crawled after the worker and soon found herself as a crossroad of sorts. There were a lot of juveniles moving around, most avoiding them. Nestra wasn’t sure why they weren’t attacked — even workers were not immune to the portal monster rage — but she realized why soon.

She stank.

Oh well. Silver linings. Avoiding the scurrying workers, she dragged Valerian after a juvenile carrying an egg down to a larger chamber where transparent larvae waited to be fed. Nestra followed her nose to the larder where several juveniles waited.

They found Sheryl. The juveniles had managed to peel off most of the flesh from her head, but her armor prevented them from eating the rest and the body lay discarded. It was a grotesque sight.

Valerian respectfully grabbed the body which he placed in a large body bag, then he passed it on to Nestra. She bit down a cry of alarm but it was too late. He bumped into a worker.

For a moment, Nestra hoped that nothing would happen but alas, the juvenile panicked. It then proceeded to grab its own head and tore it off, spilling a yellow liquid all over the floor. Thankfully, by then Nestra had grabbed Valerian out of the way. They crawled out while a commotion gathered behind them.

The colony would know there were intruders now.

***

Nestra watched a black arm strike down from a side tunnel, spearing a juvenile through the brain. The clawed appendage carefully lifted the corpse out of sight. It was a spider leg.

It reminded her of that time a salamander had stolen her shrimp, an offense she would not soon forget. The portal worlds were illusory segments of reality that merely mimicked a real world, but here and there, remnants of nature still lingered. In this case, it was a parasitic species living inside of the colony. And hiding, somehow.

One day, she’d visit those worlds herself.

But that wouldn’t be any time soon. Not with how weak she was.

Silently, Nestra pointed towards a side passage, and they continued.

***

Finding the queen’s room wasn’t too difficult. They just waited for egg-carrying juveniles to show up then followed the tunnels where they came from. It took a while, but it also meant avoiding the larger tunnels where the warriors patrolled. At some point, they moved over a sort of arena where soldiers fought to the death. The survivor would immediately molt afterward, emerging with various improvements while the loser was carried off, presumably to the larder. The tunnel didn’t widen after. They only figured out they were in the throne room when Nestra popped her head out and there was the queen.

The creature was… large. Its distended white body occupied most of the room towards the end where juveniles worked to recover the freshly laid eggs, but the torso and head were barely larger than that of a warrior. It was a social guardian. Its power lay in its defenders.

That didn’t mean that the queen was defenseless, however.

“Here she is. Ready?”

Valerian signaled he needed a minute. Nestra let him focus. He would be the one carrying the body bag but if anything went wrong, he’d have to ditch it. She noticed there was some sweat on his brow. He was a bit nervous. So was Nestra, but it was a good kind of nervous.

“Ok, go.”

They dropped down. Nestra charged forward with momentum first, then all her speed. The queen reacted immediately. She let out a screech that made Nestra’s balance falter for just an instant before her body adjusted. She jumped over a wave of noxious acid spat from a horrible mouth, the vapor from the attack eating at her skin. If she didn’t have the resistance, attempting to go through would have been fatal. An acrid stench filled her nose.

The queen was calling for help.

Nestra aimed at the large head and shot a bolt. The powerful spell crashed against a hastily raised shield, something transparent and poorly made. How much pure mana did that thing even have?

Faster, Nestra closed the distance with Valerian boosting her from behind. Her void-infused blade smashed against the shield in vain. Trampling sounds came from behind.

“Now?” she asked, her angry voice interrupted by Valerian’s spell. It really took some time to cast, still.

“SUFFER.”

Pain wracked the queen. She hissed, and the sound attack redoubled. Nestra clenched her teeth as Valerian walked by with blood falling from his ears. He dropped the body bag. Or rather, it fell from his unfeeling hand as he did his best to keep the pain spell on.

That was all she needed.

Nestra aimed again. This time, the bolt spell left her feeling drained and sore but the explosion, ah, that one was so satisfying. A good half of the queen’s face just disappeared, replaced by a waterfall of ichor. Her hearing returned. Something screamed behind her.

Right.

The King Termite.

Nestra overcharged her body with electric mana merely to dodge the colossus attempting to trample her. She picked the body and ran towards the newly opened exit portal. An altar with her prize on it opened but she didn’t have the time to pick it up. The king scrambled to a halt to avoid smashing into the corpse of his mate. That was all it took for her to push a sound drunk Valerian through.

She was really looking forward to a damn shower.

***

The first thought Nestra had when stepping out of the portal was that she wouldn’t be getting a shower anytime soon. There were EMTs, enough spooks to destabilize a region and the worst thing of all: white clad ‘gleam pigs’ finishing to gear up. The lot of them watched her cross the boundary like she was intruding. So many eyes fixed on her. Stressful. A short man built like a boulder approached her with an expression of contained anger. Mixed Asian and anglo, she judged. Shaven. Interestingly, out there, it was dawn. She’d never spent that much time inside of a portal.

Valerian picked himself up from the ground, brushing a few fallen leaves from his blood-soaked hands.

“What the hell were you lot doing in here?”

“Huh, raiding?” Nestra replied.

She was already getting annoyed.

Valerian facepalmed. Ah, authority. In the portal world, she was free but here there were tapes and egos and unfortunately, this guy was B-class and she couldn’t just squarely tell him to fuck off.

“We have two magical life trackers that went off at the same time and no reports. Some sentries reported a disturbance… Where are the rest of you?”

Valerian yawned. He was exhausted. Nestra was ok and considering her reply, but mostly she was certain that Ragnarok would come pull her ass out of the fire once she learnt they were out, so they would be fine no matter what. There was no way the old monster would dispose of a tool like Nestra on such a shitty mission. It would be too wasteful.

“Are you ignoring me? Let me introduce myself. My name is Alden Sun, a commander of the Municipal User Response Unit, and you’re not leaving until I get my answers. Now, let me ask you again. Where are Users Satoshi and Naomi?”

“They are dead.”

“Yes, I gathered that. What… what’s in that bag?”

“Sheryl,” Nestra replied.

Silence descended upon the spectators. A vein popped up on Sun’s forehead while a few of the spooks took a step back. Valerian groaned audibly. Nestra knew she was pissing him off but she was doing it anyway because, one, they wouldn’t get out of here without extensive questioning anyway, or until Ragnarok intervened and, two, it was fun.

“Please follow me.”

***

Nestra eyed the cooling mass of instant noodles pushed as a peace offering in front of her. It smelled kind of nice but compared to the prize waiting in her loot bag, it was a meager gesture indeed. And besides, she was wearing her mask.

Unsurprisingly, Alden Sun had chosen to interrogate her himself. The funny part was that they’d given her a short stool but she still stood almost two heads over the massively stacked gleam pig. Could she call another cop a pig?

She decided that since she was sitting in the interrogation room of a trailer, yeah, sure. Not that she’d let Claire find out.

“Once again, I’d like you to go over the events. In your own words,” Alden said between gritted teeth.

It was a classic trick, asking people to repeat themselves and look for inaccuracies as lying people tended to forget details. Nestra didn’t feel like indulging. She’d been courteous enough telling the gleam what happened the first time.

“I don’t think I want to do that.”

“I think you’re gonna do what I tell you to do.”

“I’m a Mask,” Nestra said.

Alden glared, his temper rising. A wave of mana pushed against Nestra’s own but her void just swallowed it all. She didn’t think he was even doing it on purpose. He was B-class. If he let his mana out fully, it would be enough to make baselines collapse.

“Masks are subject to the law too, and we’re talking about murder.”

“Am I accused of murder?”

Alden fumed. He wasn’t a very experienced talker, she noticed. Probably just coasted on his rugged looks and awesome power.

“You will be if you fail to explain yourself.”

“Then I suppose you should contact the army.”

She inspected her hands. They were dirty.

“There are structures and then there are people, and some people keep pushing on the structure to see what they can get. Like you do. I’m a Mask. You have no power over me. Even stepping in here is a courtesy I’m doing you, so back off.”

“I have every right to ask you questions.”

“And I have every right to ignore you until my hierarchy showssss up, which shouldn’t take very long now.”

“Satoshi was a strong C-class raider… and you killed him and his wife just like that. I find it… difficult to believe. Would you mind telling me how you did it?” Alden said, switching gear in a second.

“I would,” Nestra replied.

Alden glared.

“It would go a long way towards making your story credible.”

Nestra remained quiet. She was getting really good at that. This was yet another breach of conduct, of the gleam etiquette this time. Alden Sun was asking her to unveil her technique. This just wasn’t done. In this case, the secret technique was having a void shark frequent snacker on hand to bite people’s head off when they weren’t looking. She wasn’t going to reveal that. He would just have to accept she had won, not like the method mattered at all from a legal perspective. Either she had cause to kill him or she didn’t. The method didn’t matter when it came to raiders.

They didn’t talk for a while which suited Nestra just fine. Pressure mounted, coming from the barely contained gleam pig. It tasted like a mountain to her senses but it was also hot. The brown ring around Alden’s eyes took on a molten appearance to match his temper. A lava warrior, a rarity, Nestra thought. Still she didn’t move. Eventually, the police officer broke first.

“Listen, Crescent. You came out of nowhere and I can tell you’re C-class, but even if you’re a big hotshot from far away, killing three C-class members of a serious team then completing the portal by yourself just feels ridiculous. You can give me some explanations or I can get them from your file.”

Nestra chuckled, a low sound that put the B-class gleam on guard.

“Go ahead. Ask Shinran for accesssss. I’d love to watch.”

“You’re really cocky.”

Nestra chuckled even more. She couldn’t help it.

“We both know who’s overextended here, trying to learn as much as he can while he can. Is that not ssso?”

“You must be coming from a place where manners are not enforced. Be careful.”

Somebody knocked. Nestra had felt the coming mana through the thin trailer door so neither were surprised.

“Boss?” a worried voice said.

“Looks like your time is up.”

“You stay here.”

She did but only for a minute. A soldier in full battle gear soon opened the trailer door — a bad sign. A red-faced Ragnhild gave her a tight smile from a corner of the park, right next to a military transport hovercraft filled with army gleams in full gear. Ragnarok didn’t like someone borrowing her toy and she was making her displeasure known in no uncertain way. Discomfited, Alden Sun stood with a few subordinates at his back much like a chastised student being yelled at in front of the class.

“Ah, Crescent. You did very well, just as I expected. You may rest for now and I will call upon you very soon.”

She sniffed the air.

“And a good shower too. A House Nephrite limo is parked near the entrance with young Valerian. I’m sure he will be happy to bring you to… a convenient spot of your choosing. Once again, well done. Enjoy the rest of your day.”

The false smile grew strained so Nestra hurried away. It was very strange seeing Ragnhild herself smile. In fact, it felt completely unnatural. She must have been quite annoyed.

A steel aura rose at her back to confirm that the old monster was going to remind Sun about who she was. Nestra was aware she was using politics to shield herself but she couldn’t find the heart to care. In Threshold, ignoring power structures was the privilege of the strong. She wasn’t strong so she would use every tool at her disposal to be left the fuck alone. That was it.

***

“What will you do now?”

Valerian reclined in his seat. He felt so relaxed now that they were in private, out of sight of most people.

“I need time to recover. I imagine there is going to be a debriefing from several agencies, however when this is done, I have a proposal, ‘Crescent’.”

“We can raid together. I don’t mind.”

“Really?”

He smiled.

“Glad to hear it.”

“I’ll raid without you as well though. I need to polish my sword skills. This new height and reach are forcing me to adjust. I feel awkward.”

“Are you telling me that you’re weak?” Valerian blurted.

“Weaker than I should be. Much weaker. All those years of training… meant for little Nestra.”

She shook her head. What a waste. Well no, it wasn’t wasted but it would need adjustment. Riel, she even had trouble with her balance sometimes.

“Alright then,” Valerian mumbled to himself.

He might have whispered something about it being unfair. Nestra thought it was bullshit. Starving for a decade, now that was unfair.

***

Nestra wanted nothing better than to take a shower and fall asleep, but there was something unexpected waiting for her at the entrance of her house.

A drone had left a white envelope with an invitation addressed to her in person, with a promise to pick her up. It was for an art exhibition.

No one invited her to art exhibitions. Hell, she didn’t even like paintings that much anyway.

Unless…

“Nah, it couldn’t be.”

A chill crawled up her spine.

“I hope.”