“Oh. Huh. Okay well, anything else? I have a lecture in ten minutes that I can’t miss.”

“I’m honestly a bit surprised at how well you’re taking this. Your father and I are separating, after all.”

“Mom, I lived with you for twenty five years before I went off on my own. The only thing I’m surprised about is that it didn’t happen sooner.”

* An excerpt from a short call between Elysa Montero and her mother, Olivia Meier.

***

As I leave the meeting room, I run a hand through my hair, grimacing like always at the uncomfortable disconnect between my steel and flesh. It’s been five years since I was in Europe, and I still wasn’t used to it. I’ll never understand the samurai who opt into full cybernetics, it’s just too unnatural.

Speaking of which, as I turn a corner away from the public area of the station, Illuminati’s unique voice pops up in my ear, the cheeky kid having apparently just forced a voice call into my augs, just like they always do.

[“Olivia, how in the world did you even end up with a guy like that?”]

I sigh, yet I can’t help but smile as I respond:

“Do you really wanna know? It’s honestly not that interesting, and sort of just a bunch of me being an idiot.”

[“I mean, yes?! The guy is basically a cult leader, this is juicy info you’re holding back from me!”]

I grin as I shake my head, then take a moment to think before I begin.

----------------------------------------

Faith is an illusion; a lie that I willingly believe.

I’m a walking contradiction, a broken record player stuck on repeat. I’ve never been able to slip into the mindless haze it takes to truly follow a cause, to just completely stop thinking and refuse to question it, but neither have I been able to avoid being stuck to one. Maybe I’m lucky in a way, in that when I lose my faith, it never takes me long to find another place that makes me feel like I belong.

The first time it happened, happens to coincide perfectly with the moment I met the man I once assumed I would be with forever.

I first met him at a college friend’s wedding; It was a beautiful event, at least until two of the bridesmaids were caught making out in a side room. Now to put this into perspective, this was the nineties. The AIDs crisis was still going strong, AND this was a relatively small town christian chapel with a congregation still stuck firmly in the satanic panic.

So to say the commotion it caused was minor would be underplaying it just a bit. To make a somewhat long story very short, it all unfortunately ended with the two girls, as well as the man and I, who were the only ones to attempt to defend them, kicked out of the wedding entirely. As I was sitting on the stone steps outside of the church, pondering why in the world the lord would allow such grievances, he plopped down right next to me, a rakish smile upon his face and a shine in his deep emerald eyes.

“So, a nurse, hm?”

I scoffed before I responded, “As a matter of fact, no, I am not playing into sexist stereotypes with my studies. I’m in Nonprofit Management.”

The man beside me, dressed in full biker leathers like he hadn't just been about to attend a wedding, began to do a full bellied chortle at my comment like it was the funniest joke he’d ever heard.

I sighed, lowering my head into my hands. “Honestly, I’m more curious why someone like you stepped up to defend those two. You don’t exactly come off as the most… Liberal man in town.”

Of course, if I had known him before this, the answer would have been obvious; anyone who has interacted with him for more than five minutes would know exactly what he was going to say. For me though, it was incredibly novel when his face became incredibly serious before he proudly announced: “Freedom!”

Taken aback at his almost absurd reaction, I giggled as I asked, “But they’re gay, doesn’t that go against the bible, making it wrong?”

One of his thick brown eyebrows went up as he responded, “Maybe, but the bible contradicts itself constantly. I take it more as a… collection of humanity’s wisdom than a book of unbreakable holy laws. For me, I think letting two people have the freedom to love each other, regardless of who they are, is more important than following the word of our creator.”

Smiling, I retorted, “You do know that’s technically heresy right?”

“Bah, Heresy is just the way new sects of the church are formed.” After a moment of neither of us saying anything, just sort of looking at each other the entire time, he winked at me with a smirk. “Not like you're purely devout yourself, Miss ‘Nonprofit’. Speaking of which, once the reception is over, wanna go get a drink?”

I couldn’t help but giggle again. “Are they even going to allow us in?”

The man shrugged before he muttered, “I dunno, but I promised the groom I’d help him clean the place up afterwards. Not gonna break a promise if I can help it.”

After a moment of consideration, I acquiesced and held out my hand. “Fuck it. I’m Olivia Meier, nice to meet you.”

Reaching out, his hand completely dwarfing mine, he shook our hands like this was a business deal. “Desmond Montero, at your service.”

They did actually let us into the reception, but it was in the aftermath that I noticed my first vestiges of attraction to the man. After the newly wedded couple left, it turns out everyone else did too, including the others who promised to help. Desmond began cleaning up without a word, beginning by stacking as many chairs as possible before seemingly effortlessly carrying them to the edge of the room. I sat there watching him fumble around for an entire hour, taking sips of leftover champagne waiting for him to ask me for assistance with it all.

He never did.

Throughout all the decades I’ve known him, Desmond Montero hasn’t ever asked for help.

Not one. Single. Time.

Until now.

----------------------------------------

“So let me get this straight, Olivia.”

Floating just across from me in the space station’s airlock lobby on little tiny wings that shouldn’t be able to hold them up, Illuminati’s physical avatar, a small, genderless, cyclops cherub made mostly of gold-tinted nanites, grins as they look down on me.

“Carrying a ton of chairs at once to look cool actually worked on you?”

The side of my face that wasn’t blown up by a Maniac heats up a bit. “Sue me, I was young and dumb. My point is, I don’t understand what this girl did to warrant him showing weakness like that.”

Snickering, Illuminati moves their little fingers into an exaggerated thinking pose. “I mean, isn’t she your grandkid? Wouldn’t that be enough?”

I snort, shaking my head. “I figured out she’s our grandchild the moment I saw her. That doesn’t mean Desmond fucking Montero would care for them enough to contradict his own damn myth of personality.”

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

The cherub shrugs, still as amused as before. “Maybe something changed while you were apart?”

I bite my lower lip, then mutter, “I highly doubt it.”

----------------------------------------

After the reception, the next few years sort of blur together, but we eventually did get married. We’d probably have gotten hitched faster, but we agreed that until we were done with school, we wouldn’t commit to it that hard. Not long after the wedding, I gave birth to the twins.

Richard and Elysa.

The loves of my life, who I’d do anything for.

…

Nah, just kidding.

Those two brats can rot in hell for all I care. Richard and his insane wife are utter fucking psychopaths, and Ellie just straight up cut contact with me after she got her doctorate. The time I spent as a housewife raising them were some of the toughest times I have ever been through. Maybe being a Grandmother would be more fulfilling, but I’ve never exactly gotten a chance to do that.

Regardless, this isn’t about them right now, but that period of my life is why I completely doubt that Desmond has changed in our time apart. You see, we probably spent less time together while married than we did before we were. While I was a housewife with a somewhat useless masters degree, Desmond got a political science degree, and he very much used it. While I was being run ragged by two absolute balls of chaos, he was never home, always off assisting campaigns or participating in rallies or the like.

Unfortunately, I was the prime member of the Montero Cult at that point. There were days I was immensely exhausted and lonely, only for him to call to say he was going to another protest, delaying his return by a couple more days. Those calls were the highlight of my life, just hearing his voice was enough to brighten my life for a week. Then, there were the calls where he’d say he was on his way home.

I’d fly into an excited panic, hurriedly making the house spotless, before I moved onto myself. I’d make myself up as best I could, but not too much that he’d notice. I had the vain dream that he’d walk into the door, look upon me and decide that it was best he not leave for long trips again.

Poor fool, I was.

We lived in that repetition until both the kids moved out in twenty-nineteen, where I finally got the chance to live for myself. For about four years. When the first incursion came in Ohio, he came home for a longer period of time than I think he ever had been before. It was exhausting to say the least, to keep up the illusion of perfection for months on end, and that was the time I first saw hints of his innate rage breaking through after it built up for so long. Still, I persevered, even despite the doubts I had begun harboring about our relationship.

In the end though, I was still enthralled by him; Something that only became worse once Corpus Christi happened.

All of a sudden, my personal hero had become this icon of humanity, someone who loved to show off his beautiful wife to the bigwigs he went to visit to talk about alien invasions. He became more arrogant, overbearing, and his anger issues would become more pronounced whenever something would even slightly go against his wishes. I knew something was wrong with him at that point, but like I said earlier:

I willingly bought into the lie.

----------------------------------------

As we step onto Starfall’s express shuttle, Illuminati and I sit beside each other while the ship starts up. I look down to find the cherub looking up at me with its eye full of pity, which I respond to by just rolling my own.

“Kiddo, don’t look at me like that. We both know how it ended.”

Twiddling their little fingers, Illuminati mutters, “Maybe, but that doesn’t mean hearing about your trauma doesn’t hurt.”

I sigh, then after a moment, reach over and plop my hand onto their head.

“Don’t let it get you down, Lumi. It’s been almost thirty years since then.” I hesitate, then add, “I admit it was hard, after the gulf incident, but you’re one of the few reasons I was able to stay afloat.”

“U-Uh, well… you’re welcome?”

Illuminati visibly gulps, then asks, “I-I know it’s sort of a taboo subject, but considering the circumstances, can you finally tell me what really happened? I know what officially occurred, but it sort of doesn’t really tell me much when I was in a coma for most of it and the available reports are all from the other samurai who were fighting off in other places.”

As the shuttle decouples from the station, I take a deep breath, then begin to quietly recite:

”O sweet illusions of song

That tempt me everywhere,

In the lonely fields, and the throng

Of the crowded thoroughfare!

I approach and ye vanish away,

I grasp you, and ye are gone;

But ever by night and by day,

The melody soundeth on.

As the weary traveler sees

In desert or prairie vast,

Blue lakes, overhung with trees

That a pleasant shadow cast;

Fair towns with turrets high,

And shining roofs of gold,

That vanish as he draws nigh,

Like mists together rolled—

So I wander and wander along,

And forever before me gleams

The shining city of song,

In the beautiful land of dreams.

But when I would enter the gate

Of that golden atmosphere,

It is gone, and I wonder and wait

For the vision to reappear.”

I catch my breath, then mutter, “ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Fata Morgana, Eighteen Seventy-Three.”

----------------------------------------

You were there for the beginning, so let me just skip to the part you’re probably talking about.

I was sort of half asleep in the little cabin I was assigned when the alarms started blaring incredibly loud. My first instinct was that it was a mistake, Desmond was supposed to prevent this from happening, but then I heard the gunshots. I was a bit shell shocked, cowering and unsure what to do. At least, until I suddenly remembered that you were completely isolated, helplessly plugged into a computer at a spot that nobody could access besides the samurai that were out fighting… and me. I didn’t even think twice before I shakily wielded the decorative sidearm someone in the navy had given me, then began a mad rush through the ship. When I finally reached the room, there was already a damned Model-Three rushing at your unresponsive body.

Without thinking, I leaped in between you and it; wildly firing my sidearm at it the entire time. The few times I hit it were useless, at least, until the final one, when my arm was halfway into its mouth. As the bullet ripped through it, it bit down, taking my arm with it as we both rammed into the computers you were plugged into. I’m honestly pretty sure that’s what really caused your coma, by the way, especially since it started shorting once the mix of human and plant blood got onto the exposed wires.

Regardless, you know how becoming a Samurai typically goes. Self sacrifice, excruciating pain as you lie bleeding out, until a magical voice pops up to inspire you to stand up and fight more, this time for the entirety of humanity with the power of alien capitalism. Trysta got you and I situated pretty quickly, and afterwards despite the urge to hunker down, I knew that there was no chance anyone was going to come and save us.

So I got to work.

I’m not going to say it was easy to mop up the escaped horde, but it went far more smoothly then you’d probably have expected. I attribute it to Trysta’s magnificent selection of gear for me, but turns out you can do a lot with a high tech arm and a pistol that obliterates anything you aim it at. Eventually, we managed to get communications back up- and that’s when I learned that Desmond was MIA.

It was devastating, to hear the reason I became a samurai was because the man I thought invincible was likely dead. Yet, I won’t lie, there was an abhorrent sense of relief at him being gone mixed into the wave of emotions that hit me. Still, I pushed that back for later, I needed to take over his position in the battle-line, else more people would die. The next few hours were a blur of fighting, upgrades, and dread at the thought I was going to have to pay for a funeral.

Then, I found Desmond.

He was nearly unhurt, beyond a deep cut into the armor on his back, standing over a decrepit, exhausted giant antithesis. As he raised his weapon to end it, I saw its barbed tail rise up behind him, aiming directly for a weak spot in his armor. I, of course, fired a shot into the alien’s head, ending it before it could him.

When he turned to me, there was nothing but rage in his eyes, which only slightly faded into confusion as his eyes ran over my now imperfect form. For the first time since I had met him, I felt nothing but disgust at that action. I took a hesitant breath, then fired my final shot, ending both a lurking antithesis and my relationship with him, neither to ever return. That man claims nothing is more important than freedom:

So I took mine back into my own hands.

----------------------------------------

“You know what happens from there, Lumi.”

After my final words, the only noise for a few minutes comes from the shuttle’s engines behind us, pushing us through the upper atmosphere towards our destination. Finally, Illuminati speaks up, their voice surprisingly sounding a bit younger then I remember it being a few minutes prior.

“Olivia, I-I just… Thanks. For saving me and still deciding to work with us after we fucked up so bad. We should have been more careful.”

I reach over, patting the cherub on the head once more.

“Kiddo, I was totally lost after the divorce. I don’t really wanna think of what would have happened if you guys didn’t offer to take me in.”

“Still, I-”

“Nah, Lumi, I’m serious. It could have been bad otherwise, and at this point you’re all more my kids then my actual fucking biological children. I joked about it before, but I really would do anything for you all.”

“I-I see…” I look down to see my little friend covering their eye, a slight pink tint to their golden face. “Well, you’re almost like a grandma to us, so I guess it works out.”

I roll my eyes as I gently smack the back of the cherubs head, take a moment to think before saying, “I want you to remember Lumi, that even though our little Family has blown up into something unrecognizable, that almost all of us who were there with you then, are still here now, even if it seems we’re far apart. We’re a family, now and forever.

I pause, then chuckle before I say:

“That is, if you’re willing to take the words of an old woman with enough faith in the Family to be called Zealot.”