Madeline scoffs at the answer, at the fall of the seemingly noble cleric. “Then why are we even doing this? This is crazy, like beyond insane! We gotta get out of here… well I mean we need to… do something. An arcane bullet? Do you have…”

He stares into the abyssal black wall across from the two, taking a deep breath in the realization of his own place in the world. “I still have faith.”

The rustle of clothing, the duty done as she asks the critical question of allegiance. “Even if he might be an old god?”

“Yes.” Alto tragically informs without hesitation.

Madeline McCormick is left alone in the world.

Political education deep in the parties of corporate nobility and the actionaries of Centralis, she is once again a lost girl amongst it all.

Don’t show it on your face. The tutor lectures strictly. You must always ensure that they know you are in control.

A hand gripped upon her sleeve as she straightens her spine, mind desperately trying to shake the intrusive thought. The smile, unnatural to her only, is placed upon pursed lips as she answers him with a soft diplomatic statement. To undermine his very faith, an insane charisma plays out to the man’s moment of weakness. “Are you certain of yourself, Alto? You have always questioned your gods, haven’t you?”

An instinctive attempt at manipulation, caught by her own perverted form of lawless justice. Desperation seeding the regret as she listens to her own mouth speak the words, eyes suddenly found staring into the green irises of the northlander.

She is guilty.

“You didn’t mean that.” Alto suddenly infers with a smile, finalizing their conversation with warmth. “Whatever happens today, whether it be the salvation of our world or our death; it was nice meeting you Madeline McCormick.”

She isn’t alone in the world, words from one legend to another.

“Same to you, Vigil.”

There are only three of them left surrounding the chemical fire, a silence persisting between the two arms of law and order.

Judge John Murphy tries not to stare at the twins, a curiosity and investigative instinct rising to the apex of humanity’s creation. A trained skill given to the orphans of the world from humanity, the children of resultance brought to bear against the very form of disorder in a universe of chaos.

The Federation Judge speaks to the mage, the foreignness to the power of a son of Armin’s Collective a necessary part of understanding the reality of a possible enemy.

He finds the bridge in cold logic, the social craftsmanship of their words bound by the observations of the world and the fundamental rules of their reality.

“Samuel.” Judge Murphy begins, calling the attention of the pair of siblings. The similar features of the dark eyes and hair, the facial structures of the nose and chin. His trained gaze nearly confirms the age range alongside common bloodline; one father, one mother in genetic origin.

He’s trained to find them; augments tracing lives across the borderlands and deep in the great cities of the Collective holding themselves only the most minute differences to the unperverted forms of humanity.

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Here in the stillness of camp and the lighting of the fire he can’t find the clues. A body seemingly untouched; tell tale signs of precise lines geometrically webbing from beneath armored skin and across fingertips unseen. A subsurface refraction of light supposedly off through the layer of arcane musculature drawn beneath false skin, but yet not part of the short, nearly fifteen year old boy in their midst.

Judge Murphy requests the confession, evidence gathered unable to prove without doubt the existence of the anomaly. “You are a mage, correct?”

Samantha notes coldly at the old man’s words. “The Judge questions his own eyes.”

The sibling simply answers the truth of the matter, looking away from the meditative fire and into his aged irises. “I am.”

“I’m unaware that males can be compatible with augmentation.” Judge Murphy lies from his own knowledge base. “Is it a rare occurrence within the collective?”

There are mages who make their lives in the Federation; those survivors of the desert and the Auditors who hunt them. The tales of cities of steel, an alien civilization built upon their own systems beneath five and one gods.

An incomplete analysis of culture from fragmented retellings of childhood tales and histories of lost academics of the kobari mage schools; the eternal Collective’s own story still vulnerable to the inevitable erosion of time.

“They exist.” Samuel informs coldly. “It is estimated that one in three hundred million males within the Collective are base-level compatible for augmentation. However, males do not undergo the ritual of compatibility and as such those who are compatible are often not discovered by the Collective.”

The answer raises questions beyond reproach from the twins, Judge Murphy processing the already known statistic as he continues his line of questioning. An inquiry more domestic, an analysis of the current status of their place in the world. “Are you Federation citizens?”

Samantha and Samuel both exchange a look, their wordless conversation putting the girl at the forefront of the answer. “Yes.”

Legally impossible even with extenuating circumstances, the two children of the resultance well underneath the age of majority in the Federation. A range unable to personally apply for full standing amongst the brokenness of the world, the Judge pushes them towards an inevitable lie. “Where is your bounty hunting license?”

“We lost it.” Samantha simply states without thinking.

They just sit in silence, a lie so obvious even she realizes their inevitable fate. An attempt at rescue, Samuel’s gaze piercing right into the old man as he asks the question. “Will you attempt to arrest us for unregistered bounty hunting?”

“That is not a federal law, nor is it codified in Principality 33 of the Federation.” Judge Murphy informs with a perfect memory of legal code. “The only crime you have commited is threatening to do harm to a Judge or Peace Officer. The maximum sentence is three months in prison.”

One line is retrieved from a perfect mind, of a legal analysis textbook found in the depths of a public library. “We were under extreme duress.”

“That is not relevant under my judgment.” The Judge legally argues. “But, we will delay the sentencing hearing until after we are finished here.”

They all turn towards the One, a long pause as the unmoving Being remains staring at the distant hallway. Irises affixed to the void beyond, a wordless expression of perception reaching towards both their targeted location and the hidden conversation held by the two non-present members of the group.

“Alto Carrin and Madeline McCormick are taking too long.” Samantha observes with a slight concern.

Judge Murphy rises. “Should we…”

The Being speaks suddenly, words enough to bind themselves into souls. The childlike form somehow demands supernatural trust into its contextualized universe, the three simply accepting the acknowledgement of one. “They are still there.”

Silence, the gap in conversation echoing into the darkness a mere five meters beyond the outer perimeter.

They all feel it; something snaking within their forms, a power so subtle the very cells in their bodies shake with anticipation.

Weapons held close in case of intrusion, an unheard standoff with some unknown force interrupted by the cool, slightly happy echoing yell from Madeline McCormik. Two forms returning from a short excursion, the Five rejoined once more. “We’re baaaccckkk~!”