Today was the first day I did not wake with dread in quite some time. To be honest, I couldn’t recall a morning when I didn’t feel a heavy burden across my chest. It was not uncommon for the brain to recognize a place of unknown, a place of stress, or just danger that my body would initiate a response before my eyes officially awoke. While a warm bed could provide comfort, it was the environment that triggered such a dramatic response. I remembered when I was captured by District One that I dreaded waking up, knowing a new form of torture or horror was in front of me. Or the days of Sabbath as a young boy, waking up to that dreadful deep alarm to signal the beginning of morning training.

It felt so strange to have Jacqueline Deveraux’s bedroom be filled with a feeling of home before I could even open my eyes.

When I did open my eyes, they were met with very dim lighting and an empty bed. I lurched on my side, hand reaching over to the leftover wrinkled sheets where she laid, still feeling a residual warmth. She did not get up that long ago. Foolish of me to think maybe we could enjoy the early morning with a bit of comfort and warmth. It would have been nice to hold her, even though that’s not what a lot of couples did after fucking each other’s brains out for the first time.

Although, to be honest I was quite surprised she hadn’t taken off entirely, removing herself from this potential one night stand and going back to her work. My clothes folded neatly at the end of her side proved otherwise, because my shirt was still missing. I got up and got dressed with what clothes I did have, my cargo pants, belt, boots and all. I wasn’t eager to really get the day started, but I did want to clarify things up with Jack.

As much as sex could be a decent form of communication, I knew Jack and I needed more than just that to get our points across to better understand each other.

“Ugh, fuck,” I heard her quietly curse to herself from the bathroom area. I slowly approached, seeing the door slightly ajar. She looked to be sitting at bathroom vanity area, applying (or rather trying to) that pain relieving cream to her face. Yet her hand trembled slightly and hesitated with her own skin. Every time she got close, either her hand or her face would move away slightly, irritating her.

“Morning,” I knocked gently, hoping not to frighten her, “You alright?”

She sighed, placing her things down, “Sorry if I woke you.”

“Not at all,” I shook my head, slowly walking in, “Need some help with that?”

“Normally, no, I don’t. But…” she paused, “It’s just really sore this morning. I don’t think my lips are that accustomed to kissing so much.”

She added a faint smile on her end, as if making sure that I wouldn’t feel guilty for causing her any amount of discomfort or most of all pain.

“Oh, I’m s-”

“Don’t apologize,” she interrupted politely, her eyes drifting from mine to my bare chest for a moment, “Like I said, it’s been awhile since I’ve been kissed, and fucked like that. Unused muscles and all. You know what it’s like, working out after leaving the routine for a while.”

“Right, looks like we need you on a frequent kissing routine,” I smirked.

“Let me finish this and I’ll give you your shirt back,” she rolled her eyes with a smile, clearly blushing.

“Let me help,” I insisted, moving over to help her, “Does it hurt the most in some area? Where is the most discomfort?”

She, surprisingly, pulled back as I stood over her in the chair, displaying the medicinal tools at her disposal. Mostly just a sponge-like applicant to help with the cream, and the cream itself.

“I’m just anticipating the pain which makes me hesitate to get a good lather on it,” she sighed, as if finding this all an inconvenience. I didn’t mind at all.

“Close your eyes,” I whispered softly, seeing those gorgeous green eyes glance up at me. Fucking hell, she was really beautiful. One look into her eyes and I was easily entranced.

“Well, I suppose if you wanted to kill me, you would have done it already,” she teased, soon closing her eyes, “and what will closing my eyes achieve? Lesser chance of distracting you?”

“So you don’t anticipate,” I answered with a soft laugh, beginning to lather the soft sponge with that cream. It was cream in color, but did have a bit of a pungent aroma. Still, if it helped relieve her pain, that was all that mattered to me.

My left hand held the side of her neck while the other hand gently dabbed and lathered the cream across her scars. This time she didn’t flinch as I had seen earlier. She only hummed initially, until I got to that sensitive part of her neck on the other side of my hand. She immediately gripped my bicep out of reflex, but remained steady.

“Sorry,” she whispered, her eyes still closed.

“Don’t be. You let me know if it’s too much or too painful,” I whispered back, adding some more cream before finishing up that side of her face with her neck. It was mostly all on her left side, remembering it was also her left breast that seemed more atrophied than the other side.

Once I finished her neck, I moved back slightly, feeling her hand slowly leave my arm, “Do I need to do…under the shirt as well?”

“No,” her eyes opened finally, “No the chemical burned a lot of the nerves there so…I don’t quite feel too much at least internally.”

I could see her immediately wince upon saying the word chemical, as if just a single word would intrigue me further towards what had transpired. That was my first assumption, of course, was that it had been some sort of chemical accident. As curious as I was, it didn’t burn as furiously as I burned caring about her. If asking her about it would hurt her, then I'd stay furthest away from the subject as possible.

“Then, I’m all done,” I smiled at her, ignoring her words as if acting like I hadn’t heard them at all. I noticed a few of her masks laid out, picking one for her and holding it delicately before slowly handing it to her.

“Thank you,” she smiled with a bit of surprise, as if seeing me differently. I understood if she thought I wasn’t capable of such generosity or gentleness, in both just post-sex talk but also with the sex itself. Maybe she thought me to be a very selfish lover. It was hard to be so selfish when attached to her.

She let the mask slip on, calibrating with her chip and lighting up a bit of green before it remained that dark, raven black, matching her short hair. When she wore the mask, it was easy to hear her soft breaths, sighs, or groans of annoyance. It made me wonder in the moment just what her moans would sound like with the mask on. I stirred slightly at that, having to look away upon realizing even thinking about it could get me excited.

That was the one thing about constantly being testosterone filled: my sex drive could be fairly high when surrounded by someone that spurred me on like she could.

“I’m sorry, again, about yesterday,” she spoke up, interrupting my thoughts, “I was being a real bitch.”

“No, no…” I shook my head, crossing my arms, “It’s alright. I…I should have told you what was going on. I knew you knew I was hiding something, I just didn’t want you to worry. You have so many other things to worry about, I didn’t want the idea that anyone even from your own District could betray you. And I should have known better than to not think about them planting a virus into your datapad.”

“I should have thought of that too,” she nodded, “and…I’m sorry for what I said in front of Alala. I never should have said it, whether you were present or not. Damien, the greatest aspects of you are the things Sabbath can’t touch, the things they couldn’t create from you. I hope you know that.”

I was touched by her comment, knowing she spoke out of sincerity and not just apologizing because it was the right thing to do. She truly meant her own words.

I couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment that I looked at her differently, that very small things in my life began to circulate around her, or when she invaded my dreams. I was beginning to think that from the very moment I interrupted her briefing, the fire in her heart had pierced a hole in me. She had planted something so miniscule and unnoticeable at first inside me, perhaps even against her own knowledge, and it just continued to grow and grow until I couldn’t ignore it anymore.

I didn’t exactly know what to say to her, other than avoiding my feelings entirely with a bit of humor, “What were you doing in my tent, anyways?”

“Well, what was she doing in your tent?” she retorted with equal tease.

“I let her rest there while I slept in my office. I think she thought I would be joining her but…” I trailed off, realizing I trapped myself.

“But…?” she asked.

Shit.

I was immediately saved by the sound of my communication device going off distantly in her room. While I didn’t want to stop our morning conversation, I was glad it went off when it did. What would she think if I admitted I had been wanting her for quite some time? She actually might take pleasure in that, having a bit of a hold on me too.

But I had to wonder, with how easily she succumbed to me last night, did that mean she had been wanting me too?

I had a feeling it was Grimes contacting me, and sure enough it was. I slipped the device in my ear, standing near her door.

“Mornin’,” I sighed.

“Hey, just wanted to let you know that we were running some communication tests with the radio strength near the prospective site to drop off Alala. There’s a good half mile where our communication just loses all strength, so that means no video or audio for Ruenova or anyone back at main base,” Grimes explained the reason for his call.

“Got it, that means ensuring this goes smoothly,” I nodded, “I’ll let Rue know so there’s no surprises.”

“Good,” Grimes paused, “Did you apologize to Jack this morning?”

“Yeah, just about finished that,” I hummed, watching her walk over with slight intrigue. I mouthed Grimes to her and she seemed to understand, glad it wasn’t anything critical or an emergency.

“Good, she’s been through a lot. Don’t give her more to be upset about,” Grimes defended her, “Well, why don’t you just start making your way down? We’ll get the advanced team securing the site first and have Alala ready to go. She’s already awake…and asked where you were.”

“And what did you tell her…?” I asked.

“Said you got in trouble for the way you handled Deveraux and needed to speak with Ruenova about it. So be sure to come back a tad defeated, will you?” Grimes laughed.

Ugh, thank the gods for him being so smart. I swear, I only knew him for a few years but he sure was like a brother to me, always defending me and answering the right questions. He could have been honest with Alala, that I went back to apologize to Jack and surely that would have pissed her off.

“Thanks. I just uh…need my shirt,” I said a little louder than previously, looking at Jack who still wore mine across the rest of her apparently naked bodice..

She seemed to understand it was time for me to go, and that I’d need my shirt to solidify that. Yet, she stood there with an amused stance, crossing her arms.

“Your shirt?” Grimes asked with confusion.

“I have to find my shirt, or rather a shirt. Sorry, my place is a mess,” I lied, gently snapping at Jack to give me what I wanted.

“You didn’t apologize to Jacqueline with your shirt off, did you?”

“What!? No. No, I hit the gym earlier and then went to apologize and just showered so…” I continued the lie. I could hear Grimes continue talking but immediately the noise was drowned out as I watched Jacqueline remove the shirt. And she didn’t do so quickly or effectively. She did every part of it deliberately. The brief show of her underwear, then the flashes of her slight ab muscles and scarred stomach, and then fully exposing her breasts to the cold morning air.

Fucking hell, I couldn’t take my eyes off her. And she fucking knew that.

“Damien, you still there…?” Grimes asked, his tone a bit annoyed as he had just been talking and I hadn’t even remembered a word of what he said.

“Yeah, yeah, sorry,” I shook my thoughts away, feeling the cloth of my shirt thrown directly at my face. It smelled like her. She only wore it for a few hours and my shirt smells like her. Great. I was losing my mind over this woman.

“I’ll be there in the hour, alright?” I just tried to end the conversation, hearing an affirming grunt from Grimes before hanging up on him. I placed the device in my pocket, slipping my shirt on before seeing Jacqueline getting dressed as well. As much as I would want to stay and indulge in something a bit further, there wasn’t time.

All I knew was that she was going to haunt me until the next time she satisfied me, and I secretly hoped I would do the same for her. If there even was a next time…

“Grimes doesn’t know, does he?” Jack asked me, slipping on a black longsleeve and white lab pants.

“No. No,” I shook my head, “Nobody knows.”

“Good. Let’s keep it that way,” she demanded lightly, and I agreed. I certainly wouldn’t go outside and begin bragging about how I managed to tame the animal that was Jacqueline Deveraux. She was not an animal to be tamed, nor some kingdom to be dominated, a monument to be toppled. She was merely a woman who deserved to be loved, and not by someone like me. That didn’t mean I couldn’t try.

To be honest though, I had a feeling if Grimes ever did find out or I admitted the truth to him, he’d actually be rather…surprised. In a good way. I think Grimes would think Jacqueline was good for me, oddly enough. I was beginning to believe that sentiment as well, despite our extreme differences.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

“Agreed,” I nodded, “Uh, thanks again for the evening and letting me stay the night.”

“Of course,” she hummed, as if smiling underneath her mask. There was slight hesitancy now in her stance, not that of fear or embarrassment. It was just…how to navigate the problem that was now in front of us. Did we leave tonight and this morning behind in the shadows? Do we forget this ever happened and enjoy the memory of it? Or did the both of us think maybe we could continue navigating this together, even if it was clearly uncharted stars still waiting to be mapped out?

“Um, Damien?” she spoke up, still hesitating on the exact words to say, “If you ever need to de-stress like that again or…you know, just let me know.”

So, she was open for another time? The thought alone absolutely excited me, although that would certainly pose as a distraction if I couldn’t get my shit together. Returning Alala, sticking with the mission came first. Then I had to figure out how to get Jacqueline back out in the field. And then, maybe, I could entertain such a wonderful thought.

I leaned against her door slightly, “Do I get to pick the music next time?”

Her eyebrows perked up, perhaps not expecting my reaction to be so enthusiastic, “Was my jazz that horrible?”

“Not at all. I quite liked it. I do like a bit of rock for my rhythm, though,” I smirked, seeing a bit of red blush rise from the edges of her mask near her cheekbones.

“Fine. But only if I get to pick the position next time,” she bargained. Okay. Okay. Yeah, I was absolutely fucked, in the best way possible. Now my mind would certainly think about what she’d pick, but I supposed that would make the anticipation even greater.

“Sure…sure thing, Doctor,” I agreed, knowing I would have to leave now otherwise I would immediately undo all the dressing and getting ready for the day to please her for the rest of the morning. I also promised Grimes I’d be back within the hour.

But I approached her one last time, planting a quick kiss on her forehead as a goodbye before leaving.

“Be careful,” she warned, the last words I heard before immediately exiting her room. I could feel her absence the second the door closed behind me, the cold hallways awakening me from my trance.

Whatever was in the air on Colony Negative, minus any anathema enzymes, I fucking loved it…

-

Alala had ignored me all morning and I was quite content with that. I was more worried she would take a more aggressive approach but it seemed as though she knew she had failed in her speculative mission. I almost wondered what her purpose in sleeping with me was, other than maybe I was just a decent looking guy. Or kunst, per her definition.

I had to wonder if her goal was to get pregnant. The thought had passed my mind and I knew it was a good speculation. After all, what better way to have some sort of hook or advantage over District Five than having a child conceived from their main military leader. Good thing that wouldn’t happen.

I knew Jacqueline wouldn’t based on her words last night, and well, just knowing that whatever chemical accident that occurred to her had hindered that. It made me a bit sad to think that whatever that chemical had done, it had taken a huge toll on her body, and not just on physical looks. Did she even want kids? I didn’t. I feared I had no idea how to actually parent a child and she probably felt the same.

I can’t believe I was still thinking about her. I had to find a way to shake the ghost of her romantic remains off me somehow.

“Hey, any ideas on how to get me back out in the field?” Jack had spoken through comms, as if reading my fucking mind.

“Mm, there’s a few brainstorming ideas floating around about how to get those intelligence reports skewed. The best way would be to get everyone talking, or worried, about something greater than a biological anthropologist,” I hummed, my eyes watching my surroundings as we walked towards the meeting place. Killing Wanda, actually, would be a great distraction. Killing a Magistrate? Nobody had done something so audacious in the past century, let alone on uncontested foreign soil that Colony Negative was.

I was a man for making many firsts, though.

“What if…what if we set up a trap? Use me as bait for pickup, get the funds of whatever they’re offering for my capture, and then pull a fast one on them?” she asked.

No. No way in hell I would use her as fucking bait. Not for every District to come calling. In all honesty, that could cause a full on war in this place. It wasn’t as if this already wasn’t a war, a political, shadow filled one. Causing a war like that, getting every District to distrust one another…there would be no winners in a war like that.

“That might force me to slaughter anyone that catches the bait,” I reminded her.

She sighed at that, clearly not wanting anyone to get hurt, “Yeah, you’re right. Bad idea.”

“It’s not a bad idea. I know you want to get back out in the field as quickly as possible,” I considered her point of view. Honestly, I didn’t like the idea of slaughtering a bunch of soldiers in front of Jack. Anathemas, sure, I didn’t mind that. I remembered how brazen I had first been with Crowe, how eager my bloodthirst was that I didn’t care about the opinions of my fellow soldiers, let alone a biological anthropologist. Crazy how so much had seemed to change since then.

“Right, I’ll leave the intelligence military realm to the expert,” I could hear her disappointment. Patience didn’t seem to be her strongest suit. Even an amazing woman such as herself had her own flaws.

“Once this whole District Seven thing with Alala gets situated, I’ll make it my priority, Jacqueline,” I promised her.

“Your…comms…breaking up,” her voice came through just as broken as I presumed mine did. Fuck, we were at that beginning of no communication area. And the call was dropped soon after with nothing but static. Well, hopefully she didn’t worry too much.

The second Grimes confirmed with everyone that comms were dead, except amongst ourselves on a more local channel, Alala slowly began to slow her pace from the front, her eyes on me. It didn’t take long for her to walk by my side. My gut immediately told me she was awaiting a conversation when all forms of video and audio weren’t at disposal.

“So, I didn’t know you were a Sabbatical,” she whispered softly, surprising me those would be her first words. They didn’t sound as spiteful as I thought they’d be. After all, District Seven hated Sabbath according to Jack.

“Was,” I corrected her immediately, “Was a Sabbatical. I left a long time ago.”

“Nobody leaves Sabbath, Damien,” she laughed.

A dark feeling in the pit of my core awakened at that laugh. She wasn’t mocking my answer. She was letting me know that I stood incorrect, and it was intentional that I thought that way.

“Yeah, well I did,” I scoffed.

“And did it make you question why we never hunted you down?” she inquired.

At that, I could feel my answer from earlier come back into question: why did Alala choose me? Why did she know all about me and very little about Jacqueline? The answer was simple, because she was like me. Except she made it sound like she never left.

“Where’s your tattoo?” I asked, knowing no Sabbatical could ever lie about that placement. They all had taken such great pride about their snake, the snake hidden in the grass away from all the nonbelievers. I was a little shocked Alala wasn’t being very subtle at all. Then again, she had waited for communication to fail to talk about such a secretive subject.

“Lower back. You would have gotten a good look at it if you had indulged in me. What a shame,” she feigned a disappointed sigh, “yours is on your chest, blatant, obvious…stupid, just like you are, Damien.”

“I would think someone of your kind would hate Sabbath, they killed all your men-”

“Sabbath saved us. Is that what your little anthropologist told you? That the lack of our men is what made us weak? Our men went to war against Sabbath and lost. Sabbath was what gave us all our true freedoms, or at least those willing to accept them,” she explained, “It’s made us into the District we are today.”

Meaning, not everyone from Seven was open about Sabbath, same as any other District. Most Districts were weary and for good reason, at least in the past. More death and destruction came from Sabbath than anything else. There were those that believed purification only came through baptisms by fire, by collateral damage. And there were those like Jack who believed life was about being greater than that, by struggling together in an attempt to not burn the world.

“Sabbath may have saved you, but it had destroyed me,” I pointed out, “None of this changes anything Alala. You and I are different products from the same machine. And like I said yesterday, I can’t be what you want me to be, or what you thought me to be.”

“Because it makes me the only person willing to understand you. Willing to help you.”

Bull-fucking-shit.

“None of it matters because Sabbath is nothing more than a nostalgic idea of a militant future that has withered away. Bureaucratics took over as drastic measures ruined the finances and the idea grew too big. It was no surprise to anyone it was a bubble waiting to fucking burst. District Six is irrelevant. District Five is the future,” I insisted.

There was no way of escaping the conversion. Nobody else was around in earshot, nor did they probably care what we discussed. But if I removed myself from Alala’s toying, that would garner attention, and I didn’t want to screw up any chance we had at possibly partnering with District Seven.

Alala sighed at that, disappointed, like a teacher over a student who just simply wasn’t understanding the lesson.

“If District Five, or any of the other Districts, claim to be better than Sabbath, then why didn’t they punish them when their empire collapsed?” Alala questioned, “If the entire Federation wanted justice, why didn’t they do something as Sabbaticals split across the galaxy in a major diaspora? In fact, why did many Districts welcome them? Why was Milithreat so eager for your recruitment?”

“Sabbath failed, Alala. You should take the advice instilled so greatly in our indoctrination: adapt. It’s time for you to adopt a new system,” I clenched my jaw.

“There’s no need to adapt if you know the future. I’ve seen what the Machine promised me,” she smirked, “What did it promise you, hm?”

I remained silent at that, not even bothering to gaze at her direction. I was glad my helmet could block the tears filling my eyes, and the blinking in attempts to stop it all.

“I don’t think the Machine promised you a happy ending. Is that what you want? You think a woman like Jacqueline Deveraux will give you a happy ending? The woman whose father enhanced the Machine’s predictability to be 99.99% accurate? That’s the one you pick, the one that doesn’t even want you?”

I froze slightly at that. Her father? All she really spoke of was her mother, who was a bitch and a horrible mother at that. Jack had never said much about her father. Only that he was quiet, kept to himself…and was a lover of mathematics. Shit. Did Jack even know? Hell, did her father even know what kind of product he was enhancing with statistical algorithms and behavioral science?

“Oh, she didn’t tell you?” Alala teasingly pouted, “I thought you two were soooo close.”

I clenched my fist, feeling the tendons in my fingers and knuckles crack with fury, “What her family did, it does not speak for her.”

“Yes, because Deveraux is so, so innocent. Is that how you like your women? Innocent, untouched…dry? I can’t relate. The Machine promised me a position of great power, unlike you or Deveraux,” she laughed, “I would bet money on where her snake tattoo is.”

She didn’t have one. Alala perhaps assumed that I never would get a chance or opportunity to even witness Jacqueline naked. My mind scanned the moments of last night, ignoring the echoes of her moans in my mind or the way her fingernails burned with every tear at my skin. Instead, I focused on her skin, the softness of her thighs, the curvature of her beautiful breasts. What I didn’t get much in detail last night, like her backside, curvature of her spine or even bottom of her feet, I had gotten this morning.

No snake tattoo anywhere to be found.

Jacqueline Deveraux wasn’t one of them. One of…us. She never would be.

All for the simple fact: she was better than any and all Sabbaticals combined.

“We’re here,” Grimes announced, pulling us away from our conversation.

Alala took the lead upon seeing her people standing guard a hundred feet away. Their own postures were proud and alert, but none of their women soldiers had their weapons unsheathed. They’d be stupid to try something here, not only because of our superior firepower, but also the fact their Magistrate was present.

I stood to the side briefly, focusing on old Sabbath breathing techniques. No matter what, I couldn’t escape my training, even if it was the lessons learned that granted me such breakdowns.

“Hey, you alright boss? You’re on the verge of a panic attack,” Garcia chimed in on the locals comms, with Grimes in the chat as well.

“I’m fine,” I grunted, swallowing everything down before taking a step forward.

“Ah, you must be Agent Rok,” Marhwanda took a step forward across from me. She was an older woman, late forties maybe, a bit of grey in the roots of her curls most likely from stress rather than age. Her skin lacked most wrinkles a woman her age could possess, probably due to the degree of melanin in her genetics.

Marhwanda gave off the appearance of a soft voice, a woman who spoke with wisdom and grace rather than emotion. I knew, though, that a fire burned inside her for her people, like most leaders who cared for their populace. Whatever she wanted here on Colony Negative, she would either take with that soft voice, or with her powerful fist. Underneath her own attired laid muscles, muscles that no doubt have taken down plenty of men like me in her lifetime.

“Wanda, a pleasure,” I bowed my head merely out of politeness, “Apologies about Alala. Amidst our fighting, anathemas attacked and bit her. We treated her to the best of our ability and now return her to you, in good favor. District Seven is full of excellent fighters. I think it is better to have you as an ally, rather than an enemy.”

“My daughter was bitten?” Wanda questioned, “Does District Five possess a cure?”

Daughter? Fuck.

My mission was to dispatch Wanda. Not now. It wasn’t safe to do so now, of course. But in the near future I would have to, it was my mission and it was what Milithreat wanted. I didn’t know much about District Seven lineage. I didn’t know if their politics and leadership was based on heritage or merit. Alala had both: respect from her people…and being the Magistrate’s daughter. Fucking hell.

I kill Wanda, I put Alala in power. Just like the Machine predicted for her.

“No. No cure. Only we have a great scientific team studying these monsters. They have studied the bites extensively, determining that the jaw must latch in order for the enzyme to produce the harmful effects of turning into one. Alala was fortunate enough to not have a bad bite,” I explained, seeing the Magistrate nod.

“Agent Rok has been more than kind,” Alala smirked as she stood at her mother’s side, “I do believe we owe them some kind of thanks or gratitude. It is only fair.”

“Hm, what is it that District Five requests from us?” Wanda asked.

Ruenova and I had gone over potential requests this morning if the opportunity came. We both knew we couldn’t ask for too much, otherwise we’d be seen as desperate. Too little, and we might not be able to take advantage of what we had attempted to achieve in being overly friendly. District Seven might see that as weak.

“You handle your territory, and we handle our own. Should our paths cross, we handle it amicably without violence, and turn the other way. My team is already paving the way in handling anathemas in this region, so you shouldn’t have too much trouble. You leave us to your devices, and we will leave you to yours. Should you ever need anything or have a request, you know how to get a hold of us,” I explained.

In military terms: Fuck off, please. Always have to be polite. We won’t attack or be aggressive in hopes they won’t either. If we see each other on this battlefield, we look the other way. If anathemas appear, we take down the enemy together but that is it. I couldn’t promise them an alliance because I knew they couldn’t promise that to us. Not yet, anyways.

And maybe I didn’t want to make an alliance with anyone who still believed Sabbath was right, still relevant in this day and age.

“Acceptable terms… admirable and respectable. Out of good faith, I will add another deal to the bargain,” Wanda hummed, “District Three has issued reports and requests for the immediate turnover of a Doctor Jacqueline Deveraux of District Five. I assume you know her.”

“Vaguely,” I answered, hearing a few of my men chuckle in response.

“All pleas and requests for the Doctor will be ignored by District Seven. We will not be bothered by any demands for money, all for kidnapping a sophisticated scientist in your personnel,” Wanda added.

Meaning Jack was safe, in their eyes. Or at least, that’s what their Magistrate promised. That didn’t mean any of the women could go rogue upon realizing how much credits were involved. Yet, District Seven appeared disciplined, almost as if their Magistrate was divinely guided, a leader who would not lead them astray. Which meant very few of her people would do the same.

“We appreciate that. The reports regarding her are very…exaggerated,” I hummed, “Well, with that, I wish you all the luck in your endeavors. Alala, it was a pleasure to get to know you.”

I could feel the vomit as such words rose in my throat, but I swallowed that down. Her little, feigned innocent smile didn’t seem to help either.

“Likewise, Damien…” she smirked.

For once, I had made ‘friends’ with someone I was thinking truly needed to be my enemy. Alala was dangerous, and I was beginning to question whether bringing her back to our base had been a good idea. We got the perfect intelligence on District Seven’s main base, and that was fairly valuable. It would make it easier to monitor them, predict Wanda’s movements, and ultimately take her out.

Taking her out would give Alala what she wanted: power. And all of Wanda’s wonderful promises could be easily revoked, especially if she found out it was District Five who killed her mother. Especially…if she found out it would be me. But I couldn’t let that happen. It didn’t matter if Alala won, if she got what she wanted. It didn’t matter if Jacqueline won. Hell, I was almost hoping she would. If anyone could win in this fucking invisible war, it could be her.

The only thing I couldn’t let win was the Machine, which meant I couldn’t lose.

I couldn’t fucking lose.