Magical Girl Mechanical Heart

When I finally come home from shopping in the late afternoon, I find Castalia sitting on the couch with a tub of ice cream clutched between her knees. She's munching on it while staring at an old Saturday morning cartoon, her eyes locked on the screen. I can feel the difference in the room's energy, her overwhelming aura just a bit less intense than usual.

I understand immediately. She's doing emotional management after her hospital trip.

She looks up as I walk in, floating up and immediately looking like she's about to help. I glare at her and shake my head, stubbornly holding onto the several bags in my arms as I shuffle over to the kitchen and put them down myself.

"It was bad, wasn't it?" I ask once my hands are free.

"It was not good," Castalia confirms. "Children were hurt."

Hmm.

"Isn't that pretty common for Earth Guardians?" I sign.

"Yes," Castalia confirms immediately. "But it shouldn't be."

I nod, more than a little worried about the pool of rage I feel inside her shell of joy.

"Very true," I agree. Stupid fucking Nanaya. Getting Castalia mad at us is like the worst possible outcome to a mission. You're supposed to be the smart one! Why did you do it!? "I was thinking of making dinner tonight. Would you like any?"

Castalia blinks.

"You cook?" she asks.

"Nah," I answer. "I bought all these ingredients to eat raw."

"Oh," Castalia says. "Is it a texture thing?"

Pfft. I have my body shake with another silent chuckle.

"I'm kidding!" I sign quickly. "I'm making pasta. Let me know when you're hungry!"

Castalia blinks, then looks down at the half-eaten tub of ice cream.

"…I am not currently hungry," she admits. "But I should eat in the next hour or two. I will be going to bed early tonight."

Earlier than nine? Geez. Well, that makes it easier to pick a recipe.

"Okay," I sign. "Food will be ready in an hour and a half."

Should be plenty of time for the sauce to simmer properly. I get to work, sorting out ingredients and kitchen utensils I ended up buying since Castalia didn't have most of the ones I needed. Most notable is the large pot I bought; I figure it's best for college students to make a ton of food at once and keep leftovers ready to microwave in the fridge. Microwave meals (and, apparently, ice cream) seem to be the majority of Castalia's at-home diet, and while I have no idea if incarnate forms need proper nutritional balance I bet having a broader food variety is good for northward emotional management. Which is to say, I think it'll make her happy. And that will make me happy.

"Are you attracted to me?" Castalia asks.

I immediately freeze in place. Oh. Okay. Alright. We're doing this now. Hoo boy haha wowee. It's day two of living together, but I guess Miss World Savior doesn't beat around the bush. Ah, well. Neither do I.

"Yes," I sign simply.

"Oh," Castalia says. "Why?"

"…Because I am a lesbian?" I sign back, feeling increasingly awkward. That's not all of it, of course, but it feels like the most pertinent information.

"Well yes, I know," Castalia says. "Hmm. I probably should have started this conversation by informing you that I am an empath. I feel emotional states near me. I do my best not to pay attention to it but I cannot really turn it off. I should have told you sooner but I did not know how."

"And this is what you settled on?" I sign, exasperated.

"I understand if it is a problem," Castalia continues. "I know privacy is important. We do not need to room together if you don't want to."

I wish I could just tell her I already knew this would be the case, but I can't. Oh, well.

"It's not a problem to me as long as me being gay isn't a problem to you," I sign back.

Castalia tilts her head and stares at me.

"Why would it be?" she asks.

Uh. Huh. If Castalia doesn't already know about homophobia I don't think I'm up to being the one to break it to her right now.

"Most girls already get enough leering and staring from men," I sign back. "Why would they want it at home, too? Especially if they don't reciprocate."

"But you do not leer or stare," Castalia says.

"I do a little," I insist, turning back to the kitchen so I can continue organizing things when I'm not signing. I try not to, of course, but… guh.

"Not as much as my old team," Castalia tells me. "Thalia made no secret of how interested she was. She loved to touch things. And people."

Huh. Thalia, again. I haven't been hanging out with Castalia for long, but that girl seems to crop up in almost every conversation so far. That's… weird, especially for a dead person.

"Were the two of you dating?" I ask.

"No," Castalia answers. "Not officially. Back then, I was always too scared. But we loved each other deeply."

I don't want to ask. I shouldn't ask. I have to ask. I have to know. I'm still hers. Even if she orders me to avoid her, I have to know.

"…What about your other teammate?" I ask. "Melpomene, you said?"

"Neither of us were dating her either," Castalia says. "But sometimes I think the only reason no one tried was because we all wanted it to be the three of us. Together. Until our dying days."

I have to suppress a shudder, doing my best to drown my revulsion in other emotions. How? How is Melpomene so loved? Why are so many people so enamored by her? Why doesn't anyone else notice what she's really like?

"…Are you alright?" Castalia asks, slightly scrunching her eyebrows together.

"I'm fine," I lie.

"But… you're not," Castalia points out. "Sorry, should I ignore that? I can, if you want."

I sigh. Well, what lie am I going with, here?

"Right, the empathy," I sign, acting like I had forgotten. "You don't have to ignore it. I was just thinking of a bad breakup. Still a little traumatized by it, but it's not a huge deal."

"I see," Castalia nods. "That makes sense. Thinking about relationships always makes me think about the two of them. I did not mean to ramble."

"And I didn't mean to make things so awkward you felt the need to address it," I sign back. "It's nothing too special. I just think you're pretty."

"You do, don't you?" Castalia says, seeming to realize it for the first time. "Hmm."

Oh. Not… quite the reaction I was intending. I do my best to put it out of my mind and get back to preparing dinner, chopping up vegetables at mostly human speeds and preparing the saucepot. Partway through my preparations, Castalia floats nearby, opening up the freezer to return what's left of the ice cream.

"My apologies," she says. "I am slightly out of sorts today. You still seem to be distressed about this topic, so please allow me to clarify. You are kind and thoughtful. I look forward to getting to know you and spending time with you. But I do not believe I am capable of participating in a committed relationship at this time. It seems… almost silly. I have been grieving for six entire years. But no matter how hard I try, I still cannot stop."

I pause, turning to face her. This is so much oversharing. I basically just met this girl. If I didn't have a crush on this dumbass I'd be quickly taking five steps back, but I do, and so I think about it. I think about me and her and what I want out of all of this. I guess the oversharing makes sense, if I think about it for more than a second. She's deeply neurodivergent in some form or another, you couldn't possibly convince me otherwise, and beyond that she's been alone all this time. She might be an obscenely powerful yellow mage, but she can still be sad. And she is. I want to make her happy. But do I want to date her?

Castalia still has an old flame for the woman responsible for my enslavement. That's certainly not an encouraging thing to hear, and it makes me even more afraid of what she might do if she finds out what I am. If she discovers the lies I'm telling her. Because that is the foundation of our entire relationship: lies. I'm not mute. I'm not Luna Clio Babbage. I'm not even human. And that's only the beginning.

Even if I could tell her the truth, I'd still have Melpomene's sword of Damocles hanging over my neck. I could still, at any moment, be turned against anyone I care about if they piss my master off. And Castalia? Oh, I can clearly tell Mel has volatile feelings for Castalia. All of this combined, the thought of trying to date someone I care about with this much between us just about makes me sick.

"I understand," I sign. "I don't think I can handle a girlfriend right now, either. I'd just see someone else's face when I look at them, you know?"

Castalia, though it's slight, relaxes visibly.

"Yes," she agrees. "Exactly."

I wonder if the face she'd see is Thalia, or if it's the same one as me. Ultimately, I don't think I want to know for sure.

Castalia heads to her room as I let time pass away, not needing much in the way of conscious thought in order to put together a basic sauce and leave it to simmer for a while. It's tempting to just shut myself off completely, but even with her in another room I'm afraid Castalia would notice. Slowing my mind down will have to do.

The food is ready before I know it, the pasta having been cooked last to ensure it's perfectly al dente up to Nanaya's standards. Of course, that thought reminds me of how mad I am at her, but I can at least rely on her recipes to be good. Maybe I can treat the kids to some of her secret sauces when they get out of the hospital. That would be a funny little bit of revenge.

I briefly go knock on Castalia's door to let her know the food's ready before putting together a pair of plates and silverware since I will unfortunately have to obliterate some of this food to pretend I'm eating it. Such a waste, but I hope Castalia likes it. She floats back out of her room, her altitude increasing slightly as she takes it all in.

"…That is a lot of food," she says.

"I don't know how much you eat," I answer. "And I bought tupperware for the leftovers. It reheats well."

"Should I have helped…?" Castalia asks, curling her knees up to her chest and floating up over the counter to stare down into my huge pot of arrabbiata. The steam condenses a little on her face, but it doesn't even make her blink. Wild.

"No. I like to cook," I assure her. "You seemed down. Good food will help."

"…Yes," Castalia agrees. "It will. You are very kind."

We collect the food and gather back together onto the couch, keeping a polite distance from each other as we begin the meal. I didn't put much on my plate, and I'm careful to slide it precisely up into my mask just a couple noodles at a time to prevent any messes. It's undoubtedly a weird way to eat, but I intend to just tell people I have issues with my throat and jaw that are linked to my muteness if they ask. It's only mostly a lie!

Castalia, on the other hand, starts with quite a large bite. She chews it enthusiastically at first, but soon her eyes start to bulge and water while her nose starts to run. She quickly swallows, taking deep breaths through her mouth. I chuckle silently. How can I not?

"Did I make it too spicy?" I sign, raising an eyebrow at her.

"No," she says, her eyes watering.

She quickly starts to eat more, twirling up the pasta on her fork and shoving an even bigger bite into her mouth the second time. When she finally swallows it, she lets out the quietest little squeak of pain. God.

"So boiling steam hitting you in the face is fine, but you can't handle spice?" I taunt her.

"Those are different things," she insists, bravely ignoring her own tears. "I am highly resistant to conventional forms of damage. But capsaicin does not inflict damage, it merely causes nerve endings to believe otherwise."

"Are you telling me that bullets wouldn't work on an Earth Guardian, but pepper spray would?" I ask.

"No," she answers. "…Well, unless you aimed it into the nose or mouth."

"I will be sure to note this weakness for my future evil plans," I sign. "Plans mostly involving dinner."

"Do you like spicy food?" Castalia asks.

"Honestly," I answer, "I can barely taste it."

Castalia nods, and valiantly continues eating. She does actually seem to be enjoying it, despite how much it's clearly hurting her. I suppose she's probably felt a lot worse.

"Thank you for dinner," Castalia says when she finishes it. "It was painful. But also delicious."

"Make sure you help me finish the leftovers," I threaten.

"Of course," she nods. "I will be heading to bed now."

A quick query of the current time returns 7:09PM (and twenty-three seconds). That's a very early bedtime, but… I guess I'm not complaining. I give her a nod and watch her head back to her room, waiting for that oppressive aura to vanish before I quietly leave the house. Even if she notices, it won't be that weird to see someone head out at this time of night.

My destination, of course, will be. Thankfully, it's easy enough to make sure no one is following me and no one is looking at me when I step past a nearby evacuation zone and walk into the liminal space. I wander through it in human form; getting seen here in my disguise would be terrible for my cover, but getting caught taking my disguise off would be worse in every way. It's not difficult to locate the 'ol castle portal, and so before I know it I'm drowning in black mist. Which is fine, of course, since I don't need to breathe.

The mist still seeps into my systems, brushing up against my crystals as if seeking a way inside. I'm well-insulated even without my plating fully sealed, of course, but there still seems to be something almost… disinterested from the magic. It's an odd sensation, and not one I'm sure I can entirely identify. It's not like the swirling emotion is literally composed of disinterest. Weird. Probably concerning. Got other things to worry about right now.

I shove open the doors to the castle, sensing for the little bundle of barely-contained anger that is my friend Nanaya. Are we friends? God, I think we're friends. That's kind of weird, actually. For once, I feel her in her room, so I head on up and start slamming on her door.

"Nana!" I snap. "Get your boney butt out here!"

I hear a groan and some shuffling in her room, so I wait at least slightly patiently for her to open her door. She does so, squinting at me through disheveled strands of hair. She's not wearing her usual cloak, just her chest wrappings and a pair of underwear.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"For your sake, I hope this matter is urgent," she threatens.

"Hi Nana, it's nice to be back Nana, how was your day? Oh it was fun, huh? What did you do? Oh that's right, you nearly murdered two children," I hiss.

"This is not urgent," Nanaya says. "I will teach you to fear my vengeance."

"Like fucking hell it's not urgent," I snap. "I know you rigged my roommate application. How exactly do you think Castalia is responding to the news of what you did?"

"Depression, fear, and general increased weakness," Nanaya responds immediately.

"Oh, yeah, and you think that 'general increased weakness' is going to be enough when she comes gunning for your ass over this instead of ignoring us, which she would be doing otherwise?" I demand. "Come on, you're supposed to be the smart one! I know you understand the line you just crossed. They're kids, Nana. You put them in the hospital! Even if you don't care about that in a vacuum you should care about the target it puts on your back!"

Nanaya's expression hardens.

"Pathetic," she spits. "The hypocrisy sickens me. Countless children have died by the Preserver's hands, and yet I am the villain because I fight back when they force the issue?"

"Yes!" I snap back at her, throwing my hands in the air. "Obviously! Jesus, Nanaya! What part of this is so difficult to understand!?"

"If they care so much about dead children, why don't they do anything to stop it!?" she suddenly shouts, startling me enough to take a step back. "Why don't they help anyone? Why don't they let us help!? Why can everyone else in the fucking world murder and torment and rape as much as they damn well please but when I try to fight, I'm the monster!? That is what I do not understand!"

I take a step backwards. That… I've never seen her explode like that before. She might be an anger mage, but she's always so… composed.

"...Nanaya, are you alright?" I ask her.

"Besides the fact that I've just been roused out of bed by someone who only wishes to scream and berate me?" she asks.

"Yeah," I nod. "Besides that."

She glowers at me for a moment, and then sighs.

"No, I am not alright," she admits.

"Oh," I say, glancing past her towards a surprisingly disheveled room. "Can I come in?"

After only a bit more of a glare, she gestures into the room, turning around and walking back towards her bed.

"Feel free," she grumbles.

I wander inside, looking around as I realize I've never seen Nanaya's room before. It's… oddly messy, especially for someone normally so organized. Stacks and shelves of papers line the walls surrounding an overstuffed desk, holding everything from detailed financial records to crudely scribbled thoughts and plans. A simple hand calculator sits beside a pile of pens and pencils. Does she do all of this manually? I need to introduce this woman to Excel.

The parts of her room that don't seem to be for work are far more barren. Her bed doesn't even have sheets, but the several holes in her mattress give me a guess as to why. One of the emotional collectors, like the kind we leave hidden in people's yards to charge magic batteries, sits by the head of her bed.

"I really don't mean any offense by this, but I sort of expected this place to be tidier," I admit.

"Beauty is for others," Nanaya grunts. "There's no need to seek it in the privacy of my own chambers."

"Uh… not always. A lot of people pretty themselves up because they enjoy it."

"Well, I am a six-armed gray-skinned monster," Nanaya says. "So I do not believe I will be indulging in any appreciation of my own appearance."

Okay, this is starting to spook me a little. Since when has Nanaya been so… vulnerable?

"...Hey," I say, walking over and standing just close enough to be reassuring without quite touching her. "I'm sorry I woke you up to yell at you. I stand by most of what I said, but… it seems like there's something else going on?"

"I should not bother you with it," Nanaya says.

"Hey, come on. Talking about it might help."

"No, Luna," Nanaya says, shaking her head. "It involves Melpomene. I should not bother you with it."

Oh.

"Well, uh, hey! You've done so much for me. Maybe I can cheer you up some other way. I could help sort all these papers…?"

"Tempting," Nanaya admits. "But perhaps later."

She practically collapses back into her bed, sitting down with enough force I worry she's going to break the poor, abused mattress.

"How is your disguise, by your estimate?" she asks.

"Fully intact, despite your decision to have me sleep in the same apartment as the deadliest possible consequence for its failure," I answer, sitting down next to her.

"Mmm. Well, all of us would be long dead if not for Thea. It is only fair you gain similar faith in the integrity of her work. Her mastery over such technology feels… borderline impossible, sometimes."

"And boy am I glad for it," I agree. "There are certainly worse people who could have mastery over me."

Nanaya raises an eyebrow but doesn't comment. I'm honestly a little surprised I can say that, but it makes a sad sort of sense. Melpomene seems to agree that she shouldn't have this power anymore, and Nanaya knows it. I wonder if Mel spilled the whole bag of beans to her or if she's just that insightful.

"So. You surmised I am responsible for your roommate situation," Nanaya says, changing the subject again. "I hope I did not overstep my bounds. I assumed a more genuine reaction would assist with staying undercover."

"Maybe a little, though it's just a drop in the bucket, y'know," I sigh. "I'm gonna be interacting with her constantly. But… I mean, she's pretty cool, so it's not all bad."

"Do not forget she is our enemy, Luna."

"But she isn't our enemy, Nanaya," I insist. "She is one of our enemy's most powerful pawns, but she herself has not done anything wrong. Hell, I might even be able to flip her."

"I doubt that," Nanaya says flatly. "But… I certainly won't tell you not to try, if you think you can. That would be a boon in several ways."

I nod. Not sure how I'll do it, since I can't actually communicate most of the relevant information, but maybe I can be sneaky tricksy about it. At the end of the day, all we really want is to protect people. We just have differing opinions on who's putting them in danger. If we identify the real threat and gain the ability to prove it, things should naturally start to go our way, right? Not that that's an easy task, of course.

"Hey, Nanaya?" I ask.

"What?" she grumbles.

"Can I hug you?"

She squints at me.

"Did you not come all the way here to shout at me for being a dullard?" she asks. "Why would you wish to hug me?"

"I dunno. I mean, we're friends, right? And I'm pretty sure you acted like a dullard because of something bad happening. When something bad happens to your friends, you hug them!"

She raises an eyebrow again.

"You… think we are friends," she deadpans.

Oh, uh, did I misread something?

"I dunno, I'm kind of testing the waters here," I admit. "What do you think we are?"

"People with an unspoken mutual understanding about each other's role in a cause greater than ourselves who recognize that assisting each other is in our best interest," Nanaya answers.

"Well. That's… friend-adjacent?" I try.

"We are friends," Nanaya says flatly. "I am messing with you."

"Oh!" I blink. "Oh god, you really had me going there. I had no idea you knew what jokes are."

"Hnngh," she says, for she knows she has failed to out-jape me and she always will.

"Look, I know you said it was a Mel thing and that might be… y'know, but I think it's pretty important your head remains attached to your shoulders, literally and metaphorically. Really, if you wanna talk about it, I'm here for you. I know you and Thea aren't close like that, and it feels like this isn't the sort of thing you'd go to Anath about, so…"

It also doesn't help that when Nanaya says she shouldn't tell me something Melpomene-related, I get the urge to investigate further. But… I'm mostly doing it for Nanaya's sake, I think? I hope? Nanaya lets out an exhausted sigh, burying her face in her many hands, her long toes scrunching up with stress.

"…Alright," she admits. "So. Yesterday was the anniversary of my parents' death."

"Oh," I say. "Oh gosh, Nana, I'm so sorry."

"Yes," she deadpans. "Suffice to say, it was a rather significant moment in my life."

"I can only imagine," I admit. "The Preservers go after orphans a lot, right?"

"They do," Nanaya nods. "It is a very common tactic of theirs, to ask children whose families have been hurt by monsters to join the fight. Grief makes a strong motivator, and it creates a hole in loyalties that is easy to fill. But that is not what happened to me, Luna. My parents were both killed after I became an Earth Guardian. And it was not by monsters. It was by war."

Okay, that gets me to just shut up and listen. Nanaya is clearly uncomfortable just talking about this, her arms split up and all over the place as she fidgets with discomfort. Two of her hands are pressing into her thighs, two of them are being used to hug herself, while the last two knead the bed below her.

"There were quite a few Earth Guardians where I lived," she says stiffly. "It was a war, after all. Emotions were heightened all around, and that drew the Dark World to my country far more often than normal. It all added up to quite the surplus of orphans, ripe for selection. And so the Preservers gave us incredible power before telling each and every one of us: we were not to interfere. That our power was not to be used to resolve political disputes."

My sensors inform me that the temperature of the room has slowly started to rise.

"Political disputes," she hisses. "As if it were old men arguing over a budget and not human lives. And the sickest part is, I believed them at first. I thought that it was noble and wise to be above such things. We all did. And then, soldiers took my family from me. My entire life collapsed. And I learned what fools we had all been. I tracked down the squad of Americans that took my mother and father, and I slaughtered them to the last. And from there, I did not stop."

I glance over at the battery by Nanaya's bed. It's already glowing with an abundance of power, a hateful crimson red. Now that it's full, the air starts to heat up even faster. I'll need to do something to counteract it before there's any danger of a fire.

"I killed everyone in my country who lifted a weapon in my sight," Nanaya continues. "I learned war, but became naught but feral cunning and slaughter. I used Dark World portals to my advantage, sending monsters to distract my former teammates and allies while I slagged helicopters and tanks. I couldn't even tell you how long I was lost in my own anger. I think it was over a year, maybe two. I'm sure you could find the information online, but I… haven't checked. Eventually, the Preservers committed enough children to take me down. I was far, far stronger than any of the Guardians in my area by that time, so they brought in more from outside. I barely managed to escape into the Dark World and hide out there. But I got trapped in the fragment. And I stayed trapped for quite some time."

One of her hands moves up to brush along the jagged crystals emerging from her gut, tracing the veins of red splitting apart her skin.

"I don't know how I did not starve," she says quietly. "I suppose the Dark World itself sustained me, as it twisted my body and made me look as much of a monster as I am. And then, somehow, Melpomene managed to find me on one of her little excursions. She saved my life. I joined her cause. And now, I have been living with her and doing business in America for so long I do not even cast my spells in Arabic anymore."

She takes a deep, shaky breath, letting it out slowly.

"And then yesterday, she forgot what day it was, insisting I test run Thea's new little invention, and scout a new little shard. She forgot what day it was. She's never done that before. Even with how hard it is to keep track of time here, she's always known to give me space on the anniversary of their death."

"Nanaya, I'm so sorry," I say softly. "It… seems like a bit of a trite question, but… did you tell her?"

Nanaya snorts.

"That would be the logical thing to do, wouldn't it?" she says. "But as you so correctly noted, I was not acting particularly rational that day. I never even needed to fight those girls, I could have simply retreated, but… I haven't been this angry in years. I can barely even control myself. I quite despise not being able to control myself."

"I get it," I assure her. "I didn't know. I'm sorry."

Nanaya waves me off.

"Nothing you said was incorrect," she insists. "Extenuating circumstances or not, I made a foolish error. It is I who should be apologizing; I will need to rely on you to ensure Castalia does not fly through our portal and vaporize us all in our sleep."

"Uh… can she do that?" I ask. "I thought it was super dangerous for adults to enter Dark World portals."

"Oh yes, for someone Castalia's age I imagine the changes would begin within minutes," Nanaya agrees. "But I can personally attest that if one is angry enough, concerns like that become quite incapable of holding someone back."

"…Yeah, okay, fair enough," I say. "Though… you guys seem to be doing fine with all your monster bits. I mean, you don't seem to like them much, personally, but Mel and Anath do. Is the transformation really as bad a thing as the Preservers claim?"

"There are certainly advantages to having extra limbs and extra magical storage space," Nanaya admits. "The crystals on our bodies allow us to hold onto substantially more power at any given time than our soul alone could manage. But I suspect throwing away any semblance of one's humanity is somewhat of an issue for the average person. It is certainly a deal-breaker in the eyes of the Preservers. They do, after all, ostensibly wish to preserve us. That means keeping us as we are."

I can't help it. I press myself up against her side, leaning against her shoulder.

"Nana," I say, "now can I hug you?"

She huffs out a put-upon breath.

"Yes, Luna," she allows. "You may."

I wrap my arms around her shoulders and give her a big squeeze, my sensors peering past her skin and examining the complex weave of muscle fibers interlacing through her chest and back to accommodate three entire pairs of arms. Hmm…

"Okay, I know what to do here," I declare, sitting back up and gently rotating her away from me as I start to knead her shoulders. "A proper back rub will do you some good. I can only imagine how insanely tense you are."

"That really isn't necessa—hrk," she flinches as I press on a knot in the muscle, and the protests quickly stop. As expected, she is a mess of soreness back here, and while I'm no professional massage therapist I have a decent idea of what I'm doing. Nanaya's weird biology places me a bit outside my usual element, of course, but the more I put pressure on her the more my mind starts to feel out and calculate a topographic map of her musculature, letting me learn and predict likely best methods for soothing it.

The two of us let the time pass in relative silence, broken only by the occasional squeak or grunt from Nana as I focus on a particularly sore spot. As we get to the skin around her crystals, I'm forced to be a lot more gentle; the skin around where they emerge is particularly sensitive, and seems to hurt her a lot with only minor pressure. Most of these crystals aren't anchored very deep in her body either, and could potentially be ripped off of her given the right amount of force. Others are anchored deeper into her body, though, damaging muscle and sometimes even bone. A couple of small bruises around her larger crystals look like they've been around for a concerningly long time, as internal lesions keep getting opened as she moves around.

"Okay," I say softly. "I think I'm starting to see some of the disadvantages to the transformative process."

"Mmm. Not even Melpomene's mutations are as advanced as mine," Nanaya agrees. "I learned much of my healing magic from desperate attempts to keep myself alive and force crystals away from vital areas. It is an effective salve, but it is not a cure. Someday, I imagine it will kill me. If nothing else gets to me first, that is."

"That's awful," I say.

"I cannot claim I look forward to it," Nanaya agrees. "I have several thoughts on what the true nature of the mists really is, and the source of its transformative tendencies, given its nature as the remnants of what the Preservers call the 'great execration.' A not inaccurate name, though one that I believe disguises its true intent."

"What does 'execration' mean, anyway?" I ask.

"You haven't downloaded a dictionary yet?" Nanaya snorts. "You're slacking."

"Wh—well fine, I'll do that first thing when I get back to Earth, jerk!"

She smirks.

"An execration is a curse. It is something said in malice and hate. It is an appeal to a higher power for terrible fates to befall something or someone. And credit where it is due, the great execration was all of those things. But I believe it lacks important emphasis on what I suspect to have been the emotion primarily motivating and powering it."

I dig my thumbs into the muscle surrounding her lower spine, putting pressure on a knot of tension as she speaks, but her voice doesn't waver.

"…What emotion?" I ask.

"Hopelessness," she answers. "Complete and overwhelming despair."

Oh. I can't say it doesn't make a sick sort of sense.

"Suicide is rarely an act of anger," I agree softly. "Even when you hurt yourself out of spite, it's not just spite."

"Indeed," she nods, giving me a careful look. She's worried about the fact that I understood so easily, but she's not surprised. "Everything we have learned about the Antipathy has made one thing perfectly clear: they were people. They were not some malevolent force of nature. They were individuals, with lives and loves and families. Things that were important to them. And yet they ended it all, and I do not believe it could have possibly been as effective as it was without the overwhelming majority of the population being in support. They were fighting a war, Luna. And despite embracing every possible evil they could imagine in pursuit of victory, they still lost. So in the end… they embraced the monsters they had become, and ended it all."

She shifts a little before continuing, subtly redirecting my hands to a slightly different part of her back.

"They knew what they were. They knew the madness required to name themselves Antipathy. And that is the black mist. Their final act of will. It may not have been the intention behind their spell, but they cast the great execration because they wished to become the monsters that would haunt the Preservers forever. They would rather obliterate every good in the world than spare their foes even a single evil. That was the extent of their hatred."

She pauses, taking a deep breath.

"But perhaps," she says softly, "I am merely projecting."

"Nanaya…"

"Thank you for the massage, Luna," Nanaya says, standing up. "If you would like to assist further, I have a few artifacts for you to peddle."

"Okay," I say, letting her change the subject. "One thing, though. I'm going to use the proceeds to pay for the Earth Guardian's medical bills."

She stiffens (which really is a shame, given all the work I just put in to loosen her up) and turns to me with a glower.

"What."

"Nanaya we sell these things for millions, it'll be a drop in the bucket for us," I say. "More importantly, it's the right thing to do. We don't want to be like the Antipathy. We don't want to destroy good for the sake of our enemy's pain. Those girls are good, tools of the Preservers or not. You owe them at least this."

"I… fine," Nanaya grumbles. "Fine. Your card's limit should be more than enough to cover it. I'll recoup your account."

"Thanks, Nana. I'll go say hi to Thea and Anath and head out to do that, then. They'll kill me if I drop by and don't even give them a wave."

"That they will," Nanaya agrees. "Go on, then. And… thank you, Luna."

"Of course, Nana," I smile. "Glory to the Dark Rebellion, and all that."

She rolls her eyes and I scamper out of her room with a giggle. God, what a day. Am I turning into some kind of magical girl therapist? Everyone's traumadumping all over my shiny metal ass, which I guess makes it extra fortunate I have this plump synthskin ass protecting it. Still, I'm glad I can help. I like being able to help people, to do things that actually bring value to other people's lives. It's a nice feeling.

My power reserves have increased to 38%. I can't wait to see what happens when I hit 100.