Author: Lurina

097: Everyone Dies (𒐄) - The Flower That Bloomed Nowhere | Royal Road

<As the sound is heard from the door, the scene abruptly freezes once again. This time, the PLAYWRIGHT and DIRECTOR are already standing at Downstage Center.>

PLAYWRIGHT: <applauding, smiling wildly> Amazing! Amazing! Such drama, such action! What a crescendo of excitement!

DIRECTOR: <flatly> It's a little indulgent to be applauding yourself, don't you think?

PLAYWRIGHT: I know, I know! But it's just so thrilling! <clapping her hands together, speaking in theatrically as she spins in place> The climactic battle between two masters, deep in the underground depths, home to the Order's darkest and most terrible secrets! The clash of personalities and values as everyone is pushed to their limits! The monsters, the threat of being roasted alive at a moment's notice, the life-or-death escape from overhead gunfire-- <forming her hands into the shape of a pistol> Kapewww! Kapewwwwwww!

DIRECTOR: <rubbing his eyes, sighing deeply>

PLAYWRIGHT: And the ticking clock behind it all, the possibility of escape just tantalizingly out of reach! Will they escape? Will they make it?!

DIRECTOR: You know if they'll 'make it'. You outlined the scenario.

PLAYWRIGHT: <deflating slightly, frowning at him> You really are just absolutely awful, you know that? The king of all buzzkills. The emperor. The commander-in-chief.

DIRECTOR: I'm just trying to maintain a sense of professional perspective, for the sake of the audience.

PLAYWRIGHT: What does that even mean. Professional perspective. God, it's as if you hate the concept of joy. <pacing on the spot> I swear, you've been even worse than normal through all this. Our last run of this production, and not only do you insist I write one of the slowest, most meandering scenarios we've ever done--

DIRECTOR: <interjecting> It's precisely because it's the last that I advocated for a broader approach that touches on the most points and the broadest range of clues. We discussed this extensively--

PLAYWRIGHT: --but you won't even let me have my moment, during the one little segment I'm actually proud of! You have to chide me like I'm some difficult little child. <puffing out her cheeks> And to think I was about to compliment you on your execution of the last few scenes. I swear, there are times when I feel this borders on an abusive relationship.

DIRECTOR: <frowning> That seems a little melodramatic. And it will never stop being peculiar how you insist on applying human terminology to us, when our minds don't even operate on the same principles.

PLAYWRIGHT: And now you're mansplaining to me. <scoffing> Just absolutely shameless.

DIRECTOR: Neither of us have humanoid bodies, let alone genitalia. It's extremely strange of you to use how we've chosen to represent ourselves here as a basis for insinuating some manner of gendered power dynamic.

PLAYWRIGHT: Uuuughhh, just forget it. Might as well be slamming my fists into a brick wall. <Turning to the audience> Hello again! My deepest, most sincere apologies for this untoward interruption so close to the climax of the narrative. I wanted to do this earlier, back when the actors were gabbing on and on about nothing out by the cemetery, but someone - certainly couldn't say who - kept making a fuss about interrupting that stack of monologues, and sadly it's been pushed back to the last minute.

DIRECTOR: It was a thematically significant scene, much more so than what's taking place now. It was important.

PLAYWRIGHT: <shaking her head in dismay before continuing> As I'm sure you've inferred by the progression of events, we're now approaching the end of our story. There have been many twists and turns, but the finale is in sight. <sighing sadly> And not just the finale, but the finale of the finale. To think that this will be our last time conducting this production-- It's enough to bring a tear to the eye...

DIRECTOR: Based on how you were talking a minute ago, I should have thought you'd be glad for us to be rid of one another.

PLAYWRIGHT: You know, I'd rather say you're being the unprofessional one, with all these interruptions.

DIRECTOR: <frowning> Hm, that's a disturbingly good point. Perhaps you're rubbing off on me.

PLAYWRIGHT: <smirking> As I was saying, we're at the back line! And with that in mind, we have a special announcement to make. Before that, though, it seemed prudent to offer a final little bit of help! After all, some of the theories we've heard have been absolutely bonkers!

DIRECTOR: Let's not be impolite. I'm sure they're trying their best.

PLAYWRIGHT: Yes, yes. <waving dismissively> Anyway, this isn't a proper intermission. Just an informal little outing between the three of us - well, four, if you count that glorified tape recorder backstage. So this shouldn't take too long. <glancing at DIRECTOR> How many new rules do we have this time around, again?

DIRECTOR: Just two.

PLAYWRIGHT: That's barely even a number. <clapping her hands> Right then! Let's get on with it!

8: NO ONE'S IDENTITY SHALL BE TRANSMUNDANELY COMPROMISED WITHIN THE SANCTUARY UNLESS INDICATED AND EXPLAINED EXPLICITLY WITHIN 3 SCENES

<The PLAYWRIGHT reaches into a small sack behind her, withdrawing a jester's mask, which she straps to her face. She offers a tragedian's mask to the DIRECTOR, but he holds up a hand, prompting her to throw the object over their shoulder.>

PLAYWRIGHT: <voice muffled due to wearing mask improperly> Stepping into the sophisticated and literary realm of themes here, there's been rather a lot of business about identity in this production, hasn't there? You know, who you are, who other people are, that sort of thing.

DIRECTOR: That is a correct description of the concept of identity, yes.

PLAYWRIGHT: <irritated> You know what I mean. The main girl, Utsusherface, has sucked half the energy out of the plot with her existential crisis about it. And then you have, you know, the business with those symbiote things that ended up being important in that one scenario from a while ago, everyone wearing the masks, the whole subplot with Lilian--

DIRECTOR: <interjecting> Lilith. Her name is Lilith. You of all people should know that.

PLAYWRIGHT: Oh, come on. I'm just goofing around - have a sense of hymor. <lowering her head, speaking with discretion> Personally? I think the whole thing being so bloody tragic is using silver to make bricks. When I think about the potential of this junk, what strikes me is the sexual appeal. <pervertedly> Two lovers placed in each other's bodies, people powerless to watch as their body, their very selves used by someone else, people transforming into all manner of things--

DIRECTOR: <interjecting, tensely awkward> Please stop before you alienate our entire audience.

PLAYWRIGHT: --but of course, if we can barely get so much as a sliver of action, you can be quite certain we're not going to even attempt to embrace the eros. <sighing> I'm just saying what they've been thinking, you know.

DIRECTOR: <face flushed> I understand it may be a struggle for you to believe, but not everyone conceptualizes the world in terms exclusively in terms of base urges. What defines a person as themselves is a question with tremendous existential implications.

PLAYWRIGHT: <bored> Whatever you say. Why don't you explain the rule, if you have such a grasp of the underlying meanings. Or whatever.

DIRECTOR: <sighing, clearing his throat> ...as my colleague points out, there have been many components of this production which have pertained to the the identity, not just narratively, but mechanically. Several devices have been introduced that allow the identity of an individual to be altered or subverted, prominently the concept of Induction, but also Neuromancy, and other, less prominent conceits.

DIRECTOR: Deduction based on the character and behavior of others is rendered futile when they can, at any moment, simply become someone else. Considering rule 3, this would not make attempting to reach the truth impossible... But it would become an inappropriately frustrating and ill-defined process. Hence, this rule.

DIRECTOR: In short, it assures that, within the setting of the Sanctuary of Apsu, no one's identity shall be changed by any means. You can trust that any individual depicted is the same person they have been for the entire duration, even if such elements may feature into their background.

PLAYWRIGHT: <hand on her hip> That's a little vague, don't you think? 'Changed?' Why, I've certainly changed my identity before.

DIRECTOR: I'm well aware. You based your persona on Kamrusepa and Zeno, did you not?

PLAYWRIGHT: <pouting> I derived it from a rich variety of sources, thank you very much. I'm not some cheap plagiarist like you. <crossing her arms> Rude.

DIRECTOR: <rolling eyes> Regardless, the key word here is 'transmundanely'. Obviously, it's entirely possible for someone to decide to adopt a new persona of their own wishes, or be influenced to do so by normal means-- There's no such thing as fixed selfhood, after all. But this ensures it will not happen through any in-setting mechanism without it being made clear.

PLAYWRIGHT: Clear within 3 scenes, you mean?

DIRECTOR: <nodding> Yes. But that's just to give a little breathing room for cultivating tension outside of the mystery-- And to be clear, a 'scene' is defined as 'a narratively unbroken series of events taking place at a specific location'. More specific than just 'within the sanctuary', of course.

PLAYWRIGHT: Seems straightforward enough! <yawning> Though, I do have to say it all seems a bit redundant at this point. I mean, there's hardly any time left for any potential demonic possessions.

DIRECTOR: Yes, well. <slightly tiredly> It's important to follow procedure, even at the very end, I suppose...

PLAYWRIGHT: You know, though-- I've always wondered, do we technically count as a strike against this rule? I mean--

DIRECTOR: <interjecting> Of course not. Don't be ridiculous. We're not even in the story right now, we're just facilitating it; our nature has no bearing on the narrative. <pause> Though don't think I overlooked that little trick you tried to pull earlier, when you were talking about your 'cameo'. However much you might be bored, trying to frame us as a component of the scenario wasn't appropriate.

PLAYWRIGHT: <folding her arms, looking away> Please. You're just jealous because, for all your intellectual posturing, you couldn't foreshadow creatively if someone had you at gunpoint.

9: THERE ARE NO MORE THAN 23 PEOPLE WITHIN THE SANCTUARY OVER THE ENTIRE SCENARIO, COUNTING BOTH THE LIVING AND IDENTIFIED CORPSES

PLAYWRIGHT: <untying the mask and tossing it aside> This one is quite specific, isn't it? Practically speaks for itself.

DIRECTOR: Some clarification may be warranted on a few points. Firstly, as to the definition of 'people'...

PLAYWRIGHT: <running a hand over her face> Here we go.

DIRECTOR: For the purposes of this rule, we can define it to mean 'a sentient agent'; a being with an independent will, capable of acting upon it by its own volition. This is not to imply the existence of sentient agents outside of human beings, but merely to make sure there are no misunderstandings about potential culprits not included by the number. To put it bluntly: This is the maximum amount of agents in the scenario.

PLAYWRIGHT: But what about 'sentient agents' who begin the scenario as, say, an identity stored on some sort of hardware, only becoming active later? Would that count towards the total?

DIRECTOR: <frowning> Are you trying to ask the most irritating question on purpose?

PLAYWRIGHT: Hmmmmmmmmm. <curling her lip> What do you think?

DIRECTOR: <sighing heavily> Yes, those would count, so long as they became active during the scenario. However, as per our rule on identity, you're describing something which could not reasonably occur. <turning back to audience> The 'entire scenario' of course refers to the 3 days during which the events of the story take place, 'living' to agents with mechanically functional minds, and 'identified corpses' to the specifically human bodies accounted for in rule 6.

PLAYWRIGHT: You know, I've always thought that 23 is rather an unfortunate number for this one. I mean, it doesn't really evoke anything, you know? Now, if we had 22, we'd have the same number as the cards in a simplified tarot deck.

DIRECTOR: <stiffening, ignoring her> This concludes the addition of rules and our explanation. Hopefully they will grant you further context, enabling you to come closer to the truth.

PLAYWRIGHT: Shall we move on to the announcement, then?

DIRECTOR: ...very well.

PLAYWRIGHT: Excellent. <clearing her throat> As mentioned, this will be our final performance of this production. Though it might not have been the success we'd originally hoped for, I can't help but feel we have come a long way. <wistfully> So many good times! The scenario where half the inner circle died of food poisoning! The scenario when half the class was convinced there was a conspiracy on the very first night, and barricaded themselves in the guest house! The scenario where it turned into a total massacre within the first two hours. <shaking her head> To think we're ending on such an anticlimactic note...

DIRECTOR: Not exactly taking a representative sample, there.

PLAYWRIGHT: <tutting> The candle that burns brightest burns the most briefly.

DIRECTOR: Whatever you say.

PLAYWRIGHT: Regardless, even if this ending might be a disappointment to you, we want to do our best to make sure that you get the most out of this as you can; the most insight, the most catharsis. <more seriously than normal> To that end, we've decided to alter the script slightly, to allow the release of a long-standing tension, despite the probability of this actually occurring naturally, being, erm-- <looking towards DIRECTOR> What was it, again?

DIRECTOR: 1 in 386,724. By my best calculations.

PLAYWRIGHT: <nodding solemnly> Indeed. While hardly the miracle you might have been hoping for, it should hopefully bring you some satisfaction. Think of it as a parting gift.

DIRECTOR: That's unnecessarily sentimental. Even now, we are still only fulfilling our role.

PLAYWRIGHT: Roles! Must you ever think in such rigid terms, my erstwhile companion? <leaning down to pick the mask up again, inspecting it> Personally, I've come to think of things as a little more malleable than that. After all, is who we are and what we desire not always changing? Shifting in the ebb and flow of the winds, buckling and twisting with the passage of time? Perhaps we do not embody our roles, but rather the meaning of those roles bends to conform to our evolution. <looking towards you> After all, this isn't really about the mystery anymore, is it? It hasn't been for a long time.

DIRECTOR: You're saying altogether too much.

PLAYWRIGHT: <sighing melodramatically> Perhaps. <clutching the mask close to her chest.> Well, then. Regardless, I pray you enjoy this final climax. May we meet again on the other side, and after a post-mortem bow, step from this theater and speak not as audience and performers--

DIRECTOR: <interjecting> We're not performers. We never have been.

PLAYWRIGHT: --but as companions in the journey of life, having shared this moment together.

DIRECTOR: Somehow, that doesn't seem very likely. ,<looking towards the audience> Still, I sincerely hope you have enjoyed the production.

PLAYWRIGHT: Let's pull out all the stops! <irritated, quietly> Well, as many as can be pulled out with this damn script.

Inner Sanctum Exterior | 3:30 PM | Third Day

With a speed that evoked a mousetrap snapping shut (though perhaps less from skill and more from sheer bodily tension) Kam's rifle jolted towards the door while the rest of us were just turning our heads and processing the situation. She didn't hesitate for so much as a second, firing a shot straight at the door frame, shattering its mid-section and causing wood splinters to scatter in all directions. I tried to take cover behind the bed, but my arm still got scratched.

She didn't stop there. She fired a second time, moving towards the side of the door to take a different sort of cover herself. It was only as she looked about to fire for a third time, sticking the rifle around the corner, that a voice I recognized cried out.

"Hey, we're friendly, we're friendly!" Fang shouted, from the bottom of the stairs. "Cut it out!"

Kamrusepa's eyes widened, while behind her, I saw a measure of hope flourish in Ophelia's and especially Linos's expressions. Ran, though, still seemed cautious. My attention was split, and I couldn't focus on the recording, missing a segment of the conversation.

"Fang?!" Kam called out. "Is that you?"

"Yeah, it's me!" They sighed. "Shit, I thought you were the killer for a second."

"I dare say that's my line," she responded. "We thought we might be the only remaining survivors."

"You mean you've got your whole group up there?" Fang asked.

"T-That's right, miss Jia," Linos said awkwardly. Charitably, it was just the stress of the moment. He glanced between us. "Come on, let's make ourselves known. Make it clear there's no tricks."

The remaining three of us called out some sort of greeting to Fang, mine awkward as I tried to manage my split attention.

"I must say..." Samium said, with what seemed like hesitance. "I hadn't expected we would meet again. Hearing your name from Neferuaten..." He breathed deeply. "It gave me quite a shock."

"I'm sorry," the other me said meekly, still not making eye contact.

"It's no trouble," he said. "Glad to... See off a loose end, in truth."

I shifted uncomfortably.

"You asked for this meeting.. But you don't seem eager to talk."

My lips tightened.

"Well, this is a little awkward." He laughed again, the sound longer and more strained. "I'll let you... Take your time, I suppose..."

But time was exactly what I didn't have. I thought about skipping further into the recording, but what if I missed something important? Every moment of this conversation could contain something vital.

"I mean, I believed you, " Fang said. "Why are you all up here? I thought you guys were outside."

"We were," Kam replied, irritated, "until we started getting shot at, waiting for you-- Then we ran in this place, only to find it swamped with gas. What the bloody hell happened?" She clicked her tongue. "Actually, belay that question. Who's with you?"

"I am," I heard Anna declare from roughly the same position.

"Anyone else?" Linos asked, a little desperation in his voice.

"Uh, nope..." Fang said. "Just the two of us."

Linos's face sunk, his brow contorting with worry.

"Listen," Fang went on. "Can you let us in? It's kinda awkward to talk like this, and we need to-- Well, I'll explain in a minute."

Kam frowned slightly, and looked between the rest of us. When no one offered any objections, she nodded. "...very well," she spoke, cautiously. "Come in. I won't shoot."

She pulled back her rifle slightly, and I heard the sound of footsteps making their way towards us. Then, after a moment, the knob of the barely-still-standing doorway creaked, and Fang stepped through, closely followed by Anna.

Considering how little time had passed, they looked surprisingly terrible, at least as far as I could tell underneath the masks. Fang's hair was frazzled and their eyes a little bloodshot, with what looked like a not-insignificant wound on the side of their arm. Anna seemed to have fared a little better, but there was visible sweat under her arms.

Not that I imagined we looked much better.

"Wow," Fang said, as they stepped through. "You really did a number on that thing, huh." Their eyes passed over Kam, then quickly snapped back to the rifle. "Is that a magrifle? Where the hell did you get that thing?"

"That's not important," Kam said impatiently. "What the hell happened? Why is the building filling with gas-- What's going on here?"

"Anna," Linos spoke. "What happened to the others?"

"There was an attack," she spoke bluntly. "On the way back through the tunnels. Our group was split apart."

He frowned. "Split apart?"

Fang looked between us, taking a moment to take in our faces, or at least what they could make out of them. Then, they took a breath.

"Okay, so. Here's the thing," they said. "The monster might be, uh, real."

Oh god, what.

"What?" Kam narrowed her eyes. "That'd ridiculous. Don't tell me you of all people have fallen for some trick--"

"Listen," they said, holding up a defensive hand. "I get it how this sounds. But like... Okay, just listen to me for a second." The took a breath. "So here's what happened-- Anna, cut me off if I say anything that sounds wrong here, okay? We were down in the artificed intelligence chamber. Me and Theo had just been called back in from lookout duty and got told you guys had finished doing your thing, and we all got our junk together and clustered up in a formation to head back to the stairs-- You know the drill."

"Which stairs?" Ran asked,

"The ones underneath the bell tower," Fang clarified. "We were just coming up to them when it happened. We heard a-- Shit, I don't know how to explain this." They blinked a few times. "It was kinda like a... An insectile sound, I guess. Like a chittering, but fast and loud, so it was almost like a hissing or a soft screeching."

"An insect...?" Ophelia chimed in, looking disturbed. "N-Not like a cow?"

"A cow? You mean, like the heavenly bull, or whatever?" Fang whistled. "Yeah, no, not even close. It sounded like a sound you'd hear from a demon or a space alien or some shit." They stopped for a moment, considering. "Though there might have been hooves? When it was moving, there was this clopping sound, like something hard hitting the ground--

"Let's stick to this story," Kamrusepa cut in.

On the one hand, if Fang was saying something like this, it felt like an incredibly dire sign. In spite of their affect, Fang was probably the runner-up in terms of being a genuinely rational person in our class after Ran, and to put it bluntly, they were a lot faster of a thinker. If they thought there was actually some kind of legitimate monster in the area - as ridiculous as that sounded - then it was hard for me to dismiss the idea outright, and Kam must have been thinking the same way. I should have been terrified.

In truth, though, I was mostly just relieved that it was buying precious minutes to keep watching the recording.

"Perhaps we might try warming up a bit?" Samium said, with a stiff smile. "Has your mother been well? Your family...?"

I was silent for a while, but eventually replied hesitantly. "Y-Yes... Everyone is doing fine."

"Why don't you talk about them, a little?" he suggested. "█ █ █ █ █ always used to keep me updated, but, well... I suppose I'm a little curious." He tried to smile again.

I paused for a moment. I took off my glasses, wiping them with a cloth that I sometimes kept in my pocket. "Uh, well. My mother went back to school recently to study architecture, now that Sun has moved out to my old apartment and started going to university. She seems happy-- I don't think she ever really liked being a full-time mother." I wiped my brow, too. "He's been having a little trouble... He's at law school, and I suppose it's more demanding than he thought..."

"Oh? What school?" Samium asked.

"It's just the local one for now. Oreskios University, at their law department." I cleared my throat. "He's planning on going to the Dorthedon Acaemy of International Law afterwards, though, so... He's having to work very hard to keep up his grades. Maybe more than he really should."

"Ahh, I see." He gave a small nod. "Yes, a few friends of mine... Attended over the years. As I hear it, it's even harder to keep up once you get in. You're little brother must be--" He coughed. "...quite ambitious."

"He's just trying not to be a disappointment to my dad, I think..." I said, seeming to loosen up slightly. "He's hoping he'll work at the firm, sooner or later."

"Mm, that makes sense," Samium said, just barely managing to nod. "Is he being pressured into all this?"

I scratched the side of my head. "I don't really know. Or, well, I don't think directly. My dad isn't the type of person to do that." I bit my lip. "But then, I don't really know what their relationship is like. My dad is-- He's kind to me, but he has sort of an old-fashioned attitude. I think he finds a son easier to connect with than a daughter."

"I understand." Samium took a few deep breaths. "Well, Dorthedon is certainly prestigious... Most of the friends I mentioned I met in the administration. Though some of them talked about the experience in the same way I tell war stories." Another fragile laugh. "He could go far, but I hope he knows that he should always follow his heart first. You only get to be... To be..." He cleared his throat hoarsely. "...young once."

"T-That's what I tell him," I said, with an extremely awkward small smile. "Uh, the part about following his heart... Not about only being young once."

"Would be an odd thing to say at your age, eh?" He grinned stiffly.

I laughed, brushing a little hair out of my eyes. "Yes."

"How old is he now, again?" Samium asked, his eyes rolling back a little. "We only met once."

"He's twenty," I told him.

Samium huffed. "So young! Someone that age... Should still be in tertiary school. Shouldn't have to worry about university yet."

I nodded slightly. "He skipped even more years than I did, yeah."

"Gods," Samium said. "Well, I suppose your whole family... Has always been very bright, hm?"

What was with this small talk?

"So, this sounds like it's coming from way off in the distance-- Like really far down the hall, or behind a wall, or something. Now, I'm getting a really bad vibe at this point, and we all stop and talk if we should get our weapons out for a sec, but Ann says we should just gun it." Anna's eyes narrowed slightly at her name being shortened, but didn't interject. "So we do. But right when we turn the corner, there's this crash and bang from behind us, like a bomb's just gone off. No light, but when we turn around, there's dust and debris everywhere down the hall, and I'm pretty sure a hole in the wall. That's when we see it."

"It," Kam echoed.

"It," Fang said, nodding. "I don't even know how to describe this thing. It was huge to the point it barely fit in the hall, and looked like a-- I dunno how to even put it. It had a ton of limbs, and these colorful long things sprouting all over its back..."

"Like a cross between a bird and a spider?" Ran asked.

Fang ran a hand through their hair. "More like a furry armadillo and a centipede. Except the arms looked like they were from a person-- Though a really fucked-up kinda person." They shook their head. "It was a hell of a sight. I don't even know if I processed it properly, to be honest."

Kam looked to Anna. "This is all true?"

Anna looked at her for a moment, as if considering something, but nodded. "...yes, more or less."

That seemed to put Kam even more on edge than before. She bit the edge of her thumb, her eyes almost manic with intense thought.

"Fang," Ran said. "You're sure this thing was that big? The size of the whole hall?"

"Yeah, pretty sure," they replied, with a firm nod. "I mean, the lighting conditions weren't exactly optimal? But it was sure as heck a lot bigger than a person. A lot lot bigger."

"Okay, so, definitely not whatever we saw out in the hall, then." She frowned to herself for a moment, looking downwards, before turning to the side. "Linos, was it you who said something about it being hard to make or bring in your own golem here without everyone on the inner circle knowing about it?"

"Uh, I'm not sure I recall," he said. "But it's true... We monitor the projects here quite closely, and anything alive or, well-- Significantly ambulatory one way or the other would almost certainly have been picked up by our system at some point."

"Almost certainly," Ran stated skeptically.

"Well, yes." He bit his lip. "I suppose there's no way to say beyond a shadow of a doubt... But it's supposed to specifically check for that sort of thing when scanning for potential threats." He held a hand to his mouth. "Then again, it shouldn't even be possible to break one of the walls downstairs-- They're reinforced to a ridiculous degree, and any damage should set off every defensive system in the sanctuary, so... Who even knows what's going on..." He closed his eyes for a moment, shivering slightly.

"You said you encountered this thing underground," Kamrusepa spoke, her tone sharp. "Did you try using the Power?"

"Yep," Fang said, nodding. "I didn't get a chance to try much, though. I mean-- I tried to disintegrate it? Since it wasn't humanoid? But even though the incantation went through, it didn't look like it actually did anything." They twisted their lip to the side. "Seth shot at it a lot, too. It seemed like it kinda reacted, maybe got burned a bit... But it basically didn't care. Kept on plowing right at us!" They laughed a little to themselves, in a tone that was somehow both mischievous and anxious at the same time. "Honestly? It was kinda cool."

"Cool," Kamrusepa said, with incredulity.

"Yeah! I mean, it was straight out a horror flick, or something, you know?" They whistled. "You don't see stuff like that every day."

"Gods fucking above," Ran said, rubbing her brow..

Kam sighed deeply, crossing her arms. "Couldn't all of this just have been some manner of illusion?" she asked.

"That's what I was thinking," Linos said, nodding.

"I dunno," Fang said. "I mean, you can do anything with the Power. But it got Ptolema in the arm pretty bad-- Scraped even Anna." They held up her arm to demonstrate; the robe was ripped.

"Still, twenty... It's hard to believe. Feels as though it were just yesterday that I saw him throwing his dinner around from that highchair." Samium sighed wistfully. "We spend so little time... As children. Perhaps that's something we ought to have changed, when we began to live so long. Perhaps that might have changed the course of the world..."

It looked like I didn't know how to respond to this, fidgeting with my hands awkwardly.

"Are you and him close, then?" Samium asked. "Your little brother?"

I blinked, looking confused. "Um?"

"You mentioned that you gave him your apartment," he clarified.

"O-Oh." I held my arms together. "I don't know about that. I mean, I've tried to be there for him... To make sure nothing I-- Nothing to do with me messed up his childhood." I slumped a bit, a painfully uncomfortable smile on my face. "I wanted his life to be cheerful and ordinary, I suppose..."

Unlike my own, was the implicit meaning.

"I see..." Samium said. "And your mother, do you get along with her?

Just watching this conversation, even though nothing important had even been said yet, was stressing me out so much that my palms were soaked in sweat. The amount of potential energy from the undropped shoe was enough that you could probably build a power plant around it.

"I guess," I answered. "I mean... I don't know if we have the deepest relationship, but we talk every week or two. Now that we're not living together, it feels like she can relax a little more, talk to me a little less strictly. And I try to visit a couple of times a year, whenever there's a big family event. Help out with everything... She seems happy with me, more or less."

"That's good," Samium replied. "I wouldn't have wanted to have...." Something seemed to get caught in his throat, and his whole weathered face contracted for a moment before releasing. "...I wouldn't have wanted to make her life difficult. █ █ █ █ █always wanted her to be happy." A strange cough came through his nose, slow and wheezy. "As any parent does, for their children."

"Y-Yeah," I said weakly.

There was a moment of silence, neither of us moving or saying anything.

"I guess... I don't know if we really can be close, I mean..." I said, my tone slurring a bit, almost like I was drunk. "I mean, I can't tell them, and they're not my real-- My real family."

Samium took a while to reply, his barely-intact chest bobbing up and down with his heavy breaths. "...is that how you see it?" he finally asked.

I didn't reply for a while either, and when I did, the words were very quiet. "I dunno."