Down on the base of Hill 181, on the opposing rear flank, there was a small white water stream that cut through the forest and countryside until it leveled out into a small algae-covered pond in the middle of the forest, with another small stream flowing out downhill from the pond into the Albya. It was at the pond that both Otaes and Flint had met to share final farewells before the elf had to depart. She had specifically requested that Flint didn't tell anyone of their whereabouts, nor of the fact that Otaes was leaving now. She had wanted to talk to him and him alone. Flint walked towards the relatively tucked away spot in the wilderness, sheltered from the chaos that was brewing in 181. A small enclave of peace right by the pond. It was isolated. Tranquil. The forest shrubs and thick trees concealed the two. Away from prying eyes and listening ears.

Otaes had told Flint to meet her here, and when he finally found the location, he saw her with an assorted collection of stones and pebbles in her hands. She tossed one, making it skip across the water's surface. A few 'plops' of the stone would send it sinking under the green algae on the other end of the pond. She'd pick another one, wind her arm backward, and send it flying, "Skipping stones, huh?" Flint announced his presence with the single question. Otaes looked back into the forest to see the man standing there, watching her. She smiled.

"It helps take the pressure off."

"Yeah, I bet."

"Wanna try?" Otaes opened her fist to show him the collection of stones she had gathered, inviting him for a few throws of his own, "The flat ones are the best."

"Totally," Flint walked up and picked a granite-colored stone from her hand. It was rough, sharp, and jagged. But it was flat. He held it up and twisted it around in his hands with a smile on his face.

"My furthest throw was up to the fallen tree," Otaes lifted a finger and pointed to a dead and rotting tree that had snapped in half, with its upper part submerged under the water. It was a little less than halfway across the pond, "Think you can top that?"

"Watch me!" Flint chortled. Otaes took a few steps back as she watched Flint clutch the stone, recoil, and toss it across the water's surface. It slapped into the water, bouncing off of it a few times, and quite nearly reached the tree before it sunk.

"Almost… but not quite," Otaes gave him a smug look of superiority. It made Flint laugh as he brushed off the rather snarky, though friendly, comment.

"I just gotta get in the zone is all… you know, this reminds me of home," Flint said, letting Otaes take her turn. He leaned against a large boulder as Otaes threw her stone.

"Back on Earth?"

"Yeah… with my dad back in New Mexico," Flint said with a smile, "Me and him used to go out into the desert and find a little oasis like this. Skip some stones out there."

"Aw, that sounds wonderful... your dad, was he a good guy?"

Flint gave her a half-shrug as he watched her. Otaes got the message that they weren't really on great terms... a small part of her wondered why, though she ignored it to push onto another question. Digging deeper into the history of the man, "New Mexico… I heard from a few of your squadmates that you were from a country called Texas, right? Are the two related?"

"Nah, they're states. Kinda like sub-countries or whatever. I was born in New Mexico."

"What's so new about it?"

"Wish I knew. Eh!" Flint pointed finger guns at her, snapping his fingers and showing off his joke with a wink. Otaes chuckled, rolling her eyes in a sarcastic play of humor.

"I've heard better puns," She said after a giggle, "What happened, you don't live there anymore?"

"Nah, moved to the State of Texas when I was sixteen."

Otaes nodded, handing another stone to Flint, "What made you leave?" Otaes asked as she watched Flint toss his stone.

"Eh," Flint uneasily spoke at first, "Family issues… we just had to leave," His voice had an unfortunately dark tone that hinted at something larger behind his words. Otaes' face seemed to become invested in his story, but Flint only shook his head when he realized that she'd only ask more questions, "I don't wanna explain it. Just some bad memories is all."

"I see."

"Plop!"

"Your turn," Flint gestured to her.

Otaes took another stone in her hand, the second to last one. She straightened up, ready to throw. But suddenly, she stopped. Instead, she held the stone right in her hand, and looked Flint in his eyes, "You know… if you had a rough past… I get that. You can talk about it… if you want."

Flint huddled a bit more in his coat. He let out a shaky breath, watching his warm breath-form vapor in the air, "Thanks, Otaes. But I'm fine," Flint lied right under his breath. Flint was better now, but only because he somehow managed to escape. He fought hard to push memories of his past away. Being a Marine was his main chance to run away. Flint hated, beyond all things, to be confronted about his past. Especially so, about what happened that caused him to move to Texas.

Otaes chucked the stone in her hands. The stone, almost black in shape, and almost completely flat, skipped over the water and slammed itself right against the sunken tree. Flint was about to comment on her success in defeating him, when she held the final stone up in her hand, "This is for Temetet," she said, holding the pale rock in her hands, "I have to add him to my death ring," her face was grim, as she looked at the final stone. The symbol for her fallen kin. Flint squinted, trying to remember what she was talking about. His mind thought back to their conversation in the mountains of the River Valley.

"All of the blue beads represent allies lost in the fight…" Flint recalled Otaes telling the squad, "The red, are Imperial lives we've taken."

"Your death ring… so you're gonna paint it blue?" He asked her.

Otaes nodded, slowly caressing the stone in her hands, "Since it's my brother, I get to paint whatever I'd like on it. I think I'm going to carve it into a plate with the string going through the center. It'd make for a good necklace, I think."

"You can make that?"

Otaes sighed and shook her head, "No. I'm afraid I don't know how to craft stone that well. But the Manatappa have their masons, they can make it for me. I don't think I even have to trade for it."

"Trade?"

"Barter more like. Usually, I can get favors done by the other tribes if I volunteer as a nurse. They always send me their sick or injured…" Otaes grimaced. But soon the smile returned back on her face, "But it's a special occasion. I think they'll make an exception."

"You know, I'm really sorry about your brother… what happened to him was insane. If there's anything I can do to help," Flint told her.

"Thank you, Flint," Otaes said with a bigger smile than ever before. Though, her eyes were slightly watery, with the glint of tears forming in them.

"So… uh… I guess this is goodbye, then? Right?" Flint broke the silence between the two with his question.

Otaes gave a soft nod of the head as she looked longingly into the pond, "I figured that I might as well tell you about it before I go."

Flint struggled to find good words to say now. His eyes scanned his environment as if they were looking for the right combination of sentences to make this moment right. He was nervous as all hell. The thought of spoiling his final moments with someone who made him feel the way he did. He hated the thought. But he didn't know how to make it right. So, he cut to the chase, "Listen, Otaes. I'm sorry about your bro. Temetet. Like, I dunno how to apologize enough for-"

"Flint?"

"Yeah?" he asked, looking up at her with hopeful eyes. Eyes that only wanted one thing, and that was to somehow, someway, comfort the person sitting in front of him. All he wanted was for her to be happy. The conversation that the two had after Temetet's death had revealed a lot about how deep their relationship had gone. Her brother was almost a part of her. And she had lost it. Something in Flint related all too well. He knew what it was like to see a loved one die. Nobody was there for him when it happened for him. But at least, maybe, he could help her?

Her eyes shifted over to him, and her cheeks pulled into a genuine smile, "Thank you for being there for me. It means a whole lot more than you can ever imagine... I'll miss you," A single tear had formed under her left eye, though she had long since brushed it away with a swipe of her sleeve before it could even reach her cheek.

"I'll miss you too," Flint's heart felt even heavier about what he was going to say next. But it felt right in the moment. He should just tell her how he really felt. Quinn put it best when he said "The worst she could do was say no". And the guy was married with a kid on the way, so he would know best, right? He took a breath in and looked her straight in the eyes, "Otaes?"

"Hm?"

"I think… I think that I love you."

Otaes didn't have an immediate reaction. If anything, she looked kind of confused. She looked towards Flint, but not directly at him. Her head hung low. She seemed to consider his words carefully. Then she smiled again, and looked at the man.

"I love you too," she blushed a little after saying that. Flint had been forcing back a nervous smile, but after her reaction, he couldn't help but laugh. He began giggling, first out of nervousness, but soon it became a laugh of pure joy. One that Otaes joined in. Before the two knew it, they were in each other's arms. Smiles painted wide on their faces. They were happy together...

"How come you aren't telling the rest of the squad that you're leaving?" Flint asked her after a while of the two being in each other's embrace.

Otaes sort of shrugged, "I dunno. I don't want to talk to Unity. I only thought that I'd tell you."

Flint chortled, "I think Hezekiah wanted to talk to you too. He seemed worried that you'd be angry at him!" Flint told her. He didn't notice how quiet the elf had become, and instead he kept talking, "I think it'd be best if you just talked things over with him. You know? Just tell him that it wasn't his fault. I mean if you don't, I'll never hear the end of it. He'll just talk my ear off… blah blah blah, this that and the third."

"He didn't kill him," Otaes admitted, "Not directly."

Flint at first didn't catch the implication. But when it clicked in his mind, he gave her a puzzled raise of the brow, "What?"

Otaes uncomfortably shifted out of the embrace and hunched forward. She took a large breath in, and gave Flint a nervous glance, "Wait… Otaes… are you saying that… he killed-"

"No! He didn't kill Temetet… you wouldn't understand."

"Otaes, he's my squad leader! I've known the guy for almost six years now! What do you mean, 'Hezekiah killed him'? He died in a helicopter crash!"

"Flint he… Hezekiah- erhm… look just forget it okay?"

"Otaes! This is important! You have to tell me before you go!"

"Let's just say that… Hezekiah made a deal that he didn't fully understand. And he messed up…"

"Wait… what? Hezekiah made a deal? With who?"

"You wouldn't understand. Look, it's fine. Hezekiah didn't kill anyone. Look, I'm gonna go. So…"

"I guess this is goodbye?"

"Yeah. I think it is. For now…" "You can visit, you know? Drop by the Raritan village. Tell the sentries that you're looking for me. They'll let you in."

"Totally. Yeah…"

"And, don't tell Hezekiah about what I said."

Flint poked at his MRE with a plastic spork. One hand supported the side of his head, while his eyes looked on with disinterest at the contents of his meal. The mess hall was empty, only a few people were scattered about eating. Nobody was talking. Sometimes Flint could hear the faint clink of metal against glass, the foot steps of some soldiers, and occasionally, the crinkle of plastic wrapping. But besides that, it was silent.

Microwaved lasagna. The MRE was still somewhat cold in the middle. Bits and pieces of beef dotted the in betweens of the pasta and red marinara. Under normal circumstances, this would've been one of the better meals that Flint could get his hands on, but now, all he could muster was his spork digging in through the dish. He sighed as he gave up on trying to eat now, turning his attention to a window that let in the bright sunlight and views of the bustling Military Outpost. His mind felt distant. He was only here because he didn't want to be with Unity. Being with Unity would mean that they would have to address the elephant in the room. Brian and Hezekiah.

He hoped Hezekiah wouldn't find him. There was a weird concoction of emotions that Flint had felt towards the Staff Sergeant. Anger that Hezekiah would turn his back on Unity so easily at just the slightest hint of dissaproval from Jefferson. Anger that Hezekiah had some involvement in the death of Temetet. Even more anger that Hezekiah had kept whatever he was involved with as a secret from Temetet's beloved sister, Otaes. Secretly, Flint fear that he himself would be next. A fear that Hezekiah's recklessness would get him killed, or worse. And then what? Would Hezekiah even realize that it was all his fault? He'd known the man for years. He felt a lot of emotions towards the Staff Sergeant. Anger, Glee, Comradery, Annoyance. But Fear was never one of them. Flint could never think to a singular moment in time when he was actually scared of Hezekiah. Outside of his job as Staff Sergeant, the man was pretty timid. Quiet. Outgoing, though he preferred to keep to himself. He seemed the opposite of everything that a Marine should be. In many ways, he seemed a lot like Brian. Flint remembered Hezekiah repeatedly talk about how his recruitment into the Corps was the worst mistake of his life. But for close to five years, he always re-enlisted. Why? Flint never knew the answer. Hezekiah simply wasn't a Marine. He seemed more fit to be a college professor. He wasn't a killer, he wasn't aggressive. And he certainly wasn't one to get angry - or even worse - to be feared.

To hear from Brian about how angry Hezekiah had become, about how cowardly he had acted just to save his own skin. It wasn't like Hezekiah at all. Or maybe it was, but Flint just never saw that side of him before. Brian could be wrong, but from the fear that his young face expressed, it was genuine. He quoted Hezekiah as repeatedly telling him that Unity's success was because of him. Not because of Quinn, Lafayette, Flint or Brian. Not even because of Otaes or Temetet. Hezekiah had said that Unity's success was all his doing. It sounded narcissitic at best, downright maniacal at worst. Damn near evil. It sounded like something only Jefferson would say, except even Jefferson had the class to keep his temper tantrums to himself!

Sympathy for Hezekiah in understanding that this wasn't something he wanted to do, but was forced of him by people who could have their existence erased if they deemed necessary. Flint couldn't decide whether or not he hated the guy or still respected him. But one thing was clear, he didn't want to see him. He needed time alone. He needed time to think…

The doors to the mess hall opened again, but Flint's eyes didn't move. People moved in and out all the time. This time seemed no different, "Flint! Hey, Flint!"

At least, until he heard Hezekiah calling him from the entrance. Flint quickly turned to look at him, exhaling in spite. Hezekiah's face looked anxious and jittery, Flint wanted none of it and he motioned as if he was about to leave. But Hezekiah caught him just before, "Wait! Wait! Flint, I need to talk to you!"

Flint looked Hezekiah in the eyes. The man was almost begging him to stay. Flint rolled his eyes and sat back down, with Hezekiah sitting across from him, "What do you want? I'm clearly on my lunch break!"

"Where is Brian?" Hezekiah cut straight to the chase.

"I dunno," Flint puffed.

"Flint, this is serious. I just need to see him-"

"Oh, so you can torture the guy even more? Turn your back on someone who trusted you, just because Jefferson said so?"

"Flint I would never-" Hezekiah's voice was just short of yell, but he stopped himself as he looked around the quiet space. The other soldiers in the mess seemed too disinterested to care, but it still forced Hezekiah to lean forward across the table and whisper, "Flint, everything that I do, I've done with the sole objective of keeping Unity safe!"

"Who's side are you on then?" Flint whispered back, "You can't be Jefferson's Bitch, and our Squad Leader, at the same time! You're a fucking coward, Hezekiah!"

"You don't understand, Flint. I'm going to talk to Brian right now, to soothe things over between the two of us. I'm making a commitment, right here, right now, that I am on the side of protecting my family! At all costs!"

Family? Flint raised an eyebrow, looking Hezekiah straight in the eye. That was the first time Hezekiah had ever used that word in relation to Unity. Family. They practically were. Flint and Hezekiah even used to jokingly call each other brothers back in Afghanistan. But for the whole squad?

"Family?" Flint asked.

Hezekiah took another look off to his side. Before he spoke, he nodded and inhaled, "Yes. Family. Out here, Unity is the closest thing I have to that. Look- All I want is to talk to Brian, and tell him that I'm still fighting for him. For you. For the squad," He said with a heavy paint of remorse in his voice. His eyes told Flint that he was, through and through, truly sorry for what he had done. He seemed nervous, almost ghastly. Flint almost felt sorry for him… almost. What kind of a family did Hezekiah think he was in? One where he kept secrets about the death of another family member hidden from everyone else? How come he never told anybody of his role in Temetet's demise? Perhaps for many of the same reasons that Otaes wanted to keep it a secret. Maybe he thought Unity wouldn't understand? But Unity was anything but stupid. Afterall, Flint managed to find out - even if the details were quite foggy. For Hezekiah to think that he was the only "Smart" one of the pack, was an insult to the intelligence of the squad as a whole.

Flint tutted, "Look. I don't know where Brian is. Okay? So on that front, you're out of luck," he truthfully said. Brian's whereabouts had been a mystery for the past day or so. But even though Flint was telling the truth, Hezekiah still thought he was lying.

"Flint, quit bullshitting me! You know where he is! I just want to talk to him!" Annoyingly, Hezekiah continued to needle him as if he was deliberately trying to keep Brian hidden. As if Flint was the one who would keep secrets from his so-called "family".

"I said I don't know where he is, Bitch! Okay?" Flint argued, feeling his frustration boil once again against Hezekiah.

"Who the hell do you think you're talking to- look… Flint, I'm going to ask one last time. Where is Brian?"

"If you want to apologize to Brian for being a piece of shit, then go ahead. Don't drag me into your bullshit, alright? I don't know where the guy is! If you want to get Brian killed like you did Temetet, do it on your own time! Asshole!" Flint yelled at him, unleashing the one thing that Otaes told him not to say. He wanted to see Hezekiah squirm, to see how the bastard could explain his way out of it. Hezekiah had to be confronted by the consequences of his actions.

"…What?"

"Yeah! that's right…Otaes talked to me. She said that you got Temetet killed!"

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Hezekiah blinked in sheer confusion. Flint could see the whites in his eyes as his tone shifted from loud and confrontational, to tiny and shrewd. The wrinkles on his face grew darker as his mouth hung open in nothing but puzzlement, "Flint… you're not… she's not thinking straight! Temetet died in the crash-"

"Yeah, I know! She said you made a deal with the devil. And you couldn't hold your part up! Don't lie to me Hezekiah, these elf guys know magic! They know what's up! You made a deal with somebody and got Temetet killed!"

Flint studied his face very carefully. Hezekiah's eyes trailed off, from meeting Flint's gaze, to some unknown point on the wall behind him. Hezekiah's face - almost instantly - transformed into an expression of sudden realization. His features grew softer, his eyebrows raised, he looked as if he'd been hurt. It confirmed that Hezekiah knew exactly what Flint was talking about. And that made Flint's rage against Hezekiah boil more than anything else prior. He knew, "SEE! YOU FUCKING KNOW! YOU DID! IT IS TRUE!"

Hezekiah looked scared. He tried to plead with Flint, putting a hand on his arm, "Flint! I had to… please!"

"No! Fuck off! You piece of shit!" Flint threw Hezekiah's hand off of him, and he stood up out of his seat. Flint angrily stomped his way towards the door. He could feel Hezekiah squirming to catch up to him.

"Flint! FLINT! WAIT!" Hezekiah begged as he tried to run up to him, "I CAN EXPLAIN! JUST GIVE ME A MOMENT!"

The Corporal blew past the door into the outside world. It was warm now. The sunlight bright. The garrison and forest around them bright with vibrant color. It seemed that spring was coming in with full force over the continent, almost eradicating any trace of the cold snap, save for the pockets of melting snow here in there that glimmered in the sunlight. Small streams of fresh water ran downhill from the snow, collecting into pools that further ran out of the garrison and into the forest somewhere.

Flint's boot sunk into one of those pools. A mixture of mud and freshly melted snow water, though he ignored his wet foot to keep storming away. Hezekiah managed to catch up to him, placing a hand on his shoulder, "Flint! Wait! Listen to me!"

"No! Get off of me!" Flint turned around and pushed the man away with both of his hands. The angry shove caused Hezekiah to stumble backwards a few steps. Both he and Flint held each other's gaze. A tense silence growing, "If you really think that we're your family, then act like you give a damn! Family doesn't get their family killed! Family doesn't mean selling us out! Now go the fuck away!"

With that, Flint stormed off. Hezekiah only stood there, watching Flint leave. Almost helpless to stop him…

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

When Flint disappeared from sight - turning a corner and fading behind the stone façade of a building - Hezekiah slinked back to the tent. He felt a dizzying nasuea that made the world around him spin. Somehow, he arrived back to Unity's tent to find that it was empty, only vague traces of human life still remaining behind such as the bags of the squad's belongings and open containers of food. Though Hezekiah wasn't interested in any of that. He had only one thing on his mind.

"Alright!" Hezekiah furiously shouted at the walls of the tent. If anybody saw him, he'd look borderline insane. Though he knew exactly what he was doing, "Where the fuck are you? What? Do I have to go to sleep in order to see you? I know that you're real! Come out and explain to me what the fuck is going on!"

The Mirrorface watched, though it said nothing. Hezekiah couldn't see him. Growing more frustrated, he turned to the only method of communication with the monster that he could think of. His cot was still lying there, neatly done. Hezekiah angrily plopped himself down on top of it and shut his eyes, "You'd better show up! Tell me what's going on? Why did you kill Temetet? Why am I taking the flak? Answer me!" Hezekiah continued to yell even though his eyes were shut. Soon the silence took over, and the Staff Sergeant began to realize exactly how powerless he was in the whole situation. Seconds turned into minutes, turned into an eternity. And yet, he still could not sleep. His eyes shot open damn near everytime he tried, thoughts racing too fast for sleep to take over and send him into the dream world that the Mirrorface inhabited. Talking to Eden and Yuri told him that the Mirrorface appeared differently to different people. According to Eden, it was fully possible to see it while one was fully awake. If that was even the same entity. It could've been true that Eden, Yuri, and Hezekiah were all seeing multiple entities of the same creature. It'd explain the differences in both description and characteristics. Yuri's Mirrorface seemed more devilish, more terrifying, and more threatening than anything else. Eden's appeared more mysterious and watchful. Hezekiah's was more encouraging and informative.

Whatever cosmic game the Mirrorface was playing, it was doing so in a manner to deliberately keep all of its subjects confused and uninformed. It spoke only on its own terms. One could not approach the Mirrorface, it approached you. If it wanted to talk, it would talk. There was no demands to be made from the creature, for it had already signed away your fate since day one. Hezekiah was pathetically powerless in the face of it. Helpless. Completely unable to protect his squad from the chaos that he had unintentionally brought upon them. The first casualty of his utter idiocy was Temetet. Who would be next? Otaes? Flint? Lafayette? Quinn and Brian? How many people was the Mirrorface willing to hurt because of Hezekiah? It was true that no matter what, Hezekiah could not protect them. He couldn't even protect himself. Everybody that knew Hezekiah was put at risk because, at the end of the day, the Mirrorface was the ultimate puppet master…

It told them what to do. It orchestrated everything. It was cold, tactile, unfeeling. Much like the organization Hezekiah served in. The embodiment of bureaucracy. Mirrorface spared only the ones it thought were valuable and killed anything that could be considered as collateral. All that Hezekiah wanted to know, was why?

"Why? Why did you kill Temetet? Please… just one answer, I beg… please… Was it because of me? Did I do something wrong? Please…" Hezekiah whimpered in his sleep. Tears pooled in his eyes and streamed down his face. Cold water sometimes dripped in his ears. It was an unpleasant sensation, though Hezekiah was too distraught to care.

Nothing. No response. No reply. Maybe he had failed? What had he done wrong? Was it because he wasn't there for Brian? Was it because he allowed Brian to do what he did? Was it because he killed someone he wasn't supposed to? Perhaps Mirrorface had abandoned him, ultimately? Perhaps, it thought he was no longer necessary? And Hezekiah was unable to stop him. Nothing he could do. Flint said it best. He made a deal with the devil. And he ultimately lost.

"You have a lot to learn about the universe, Sergeant Brooks," he heard the familiar reptillian voice in his ear. Not a single ounce of humanity in it. Hezekiah opened his eyes. Dark and afloat in a distant cosmic plain. Though the creature was nowhere to be seen. Hezekiah stood up, unsure if he was on solid floor or if he was floating. He was somewhere. He was in the land that the creature resided, ruled over, and dominated, "There is an equal exchange for everything, Hezekiah. An exchange. A life given… a life taken away."

"You killed him!" Hezekiah shouted into the void. He began walking endlessley. Silhouttes on the horizon became images of himself. Mirrors reflecting and refracting, his image was everywhere. Clones of himself walking up and down. Lost in the universe they resided in. Whatever he did, the clones did. Whatever he said, they said. They mocked him. They showed him how powerless he was. That if he died, ultimately, it would not matter. There were other people in the world. Other heroes. Replaceable. Another cog in the machine, "Why? Why did you kill him?"

Hezekiah grew tired of his endless pursuit of a creature who couldn't be found. He collapsed onto his knees, and closed his eyes. Falling onto the ground. Helpless. A few quiet footsteps echoed through the void. Walking right up to him. His eyes opened slightly, the creature had sat down - cross legged - right in front of him. It seemed to look down at him. Though it was hard to tell, for the creature had no eyes.

"Why?" Hezekiah whispered.

"A constant exchanged goes on in our world. We had a deal, and I believe that I amply warned you of the consequences of the aforementioned deal…"

Hezekiah watched as the cosmic dust began to shift around them, collecting and shaping themselves into two recognizable figures. A perfect clone of Hezekiah and of Mirrorface. Hezekiah remembered the scene from only a week prior. It was like a video recording. Nothing was faulted. Perfect in memory.

"Humans have a very fragile life, so please make my job easy. It'd be very unfortunate if I had to… nudge the universe to keep one soul alive…" The copy of mirrorface spoke to the copy of Hezekiah. It was perfect. Nothing was wrong. Mirrorface had simply rewound the time. It was all there. Why hadn't Hezekiah picked up on it sooner?

"If I have to intervene to keep you alive, then we can expect some serious unforeseen consequences. That would be quite unfortunate for both you and myself. So I beg of you, don't die."

That was a warning. Hezekiah thought back to what he could've been referring to when he meant saved. Realizing that he had been saved when Otaes brought him back from nearly bleeding-out on the floor. That was what got Temetet killed.

The two clones of Mirrorface and Hezekiah vanished into dust, once again joining the cosmic cloud that filled the void with specks of light near and far, "It isn't always someone close to you. I have been a instructed that a life spared is a life taken. Remember that always."

Hezekiah looked up at the Mirrorface, again with tears building up behind the dam of his eyelids, threatning to burst. All of this… the danger of his squad, the death of Temetet, his downfall… was all his doing. And he hadn't even realized it until now. He wanted to protest, to say that he couldn't have known, and that he couldn't have possibly predicted any of this. But the writing had been on the wall. This all started when he planted that seed. He had the full choice to leave. But he didn't.

"You aren't finished… you are merely learning how the game works. For that, I can't blame you. But I advise caution. It could be anyone next time…"

"How many more?" Hezekiah asked the sentence, almost in a form of an argument against the creature. It wasn't a fully-formed thought, and would've confused anyone else. But of course, the Mirrorface knew exactly what he had meant.

"One. Otaes had to revive you once after your little… swim. That killed Temetet. She saved you once more in Minerva…"

"Who?!" Hezekiah yelled. Scared shitless. Fearful that it would be someone close, "Brian? Q? Lafayette? Flint? Who? Just tell me! I can't hurt them! I quit! I don't want to do this anymore! Not if they get hurt because of me!"

"I'm afraid that there is no going back, Mister Brooks. That information is only on a need-to-know basis. And you, Mister Brooks, do not need to know."

"But I do! What if I hurt someone else? You don't understand! I don't even know what my mission here is! Why? Why can't you just give me a name?" Hezekiah continued to yell, "Everybody is hiding the truth! I was tricked into coming here! I was tricked into destroying those bridges! I had no choice! I'm not the bad guy!"

The Mirrorface said nothing, allowing Hezekiah to plead and argue against something that could not be changed. It looked infantile almost how powerless he was against this creature of such superior existence. Something that could bend time and reality to its will in a way that no other could. It's silence almost conveyed an emotion. One of empathy. Though, it was hard to discern, and was likely only Hezekiah's imagination trying to soothe him.

"The people that I trust out here think that I'm the villain! I can't be… I didn't kill him! I swear, I didn't! If I'd known, I would've never have done any of this! I'm not your guy! Just make things go back to normal… please!"

"I'm sorry. But what has been done cannot be changed. Irreversible. Set in stone. You will press forward. For if you do not, you will die. You have a choice. Die, or press on. You decide when. You decide where. And you decide how. All I can do is influence the things already in play," Mirrorface leaned closer to Hezekiah, "I do nothing of my own free will. I cannot create something out of nothing. I can only influence. Nudge. Bend. That was the power that I have been given. I have been given direct oversight of you and a few of your… copartners. I ensure that you complete tasks. I do nothing else. You are free to believe whatever you want, but you cannot change what has been done. You have a task, it'll become clearer in the future. But for now, understand that your actions have consequences. They always do."

Hezekiah got up and begged, literally on his knees, for the Mirrorface to tell him more, "Please… help me… I just need an answer! If I have to carry your burden, at the very least, tell me how!What do I do? How do I fix this?"

The creature stood up, crossing its arms behind its back as it looked down at him. The galaxy's stars ebbed and flowed across the smooth glass surface of its face. Infinite knowledge of an infinite universe. Hezekiah stared deeper into the creature's face…

Something changed. Two red spots opened on the glass surface. Eyes. The red eyes stared directly into Hezekiah's soul. Boring a tunnel straight through him with a look sharp enough to pierce diamond with only the faintest of touches. The face maintained it's properties otherwise, with the light of billions of stars crossing over and moving in the constant dance that moved the universe along. The body of the Mirrorface stood still as a statue. Not moving a single inch. Impossibly still. Holding the stare.

Upon seeing the eyes, Hezekiah fell back onto his rear in both fear and shock. Skittering a few meters away. His heart pounded inside of the cage of his chest, and he broke out into a nervous sweat. Locking eyes with the monster that did nothing but stand there. It was the same description of the creature Yuri had described. Two red eyes piercing directly into the soul through the darkness. He prepared for the worst, shielding his eyes away from the Mirrorface as he looked away, raising his hand up in front of his face…

That is, until he realized that nothing was fundamentally happening. Despite his change in position, the lava-red eyes of the creature still maintained it's fiery hot look deep into Hezekiah's pupils. Was it… communicating?

The glass shell of the face stopped it's display of the galactic dance, and the eyes soon closed. Fading back into the normal reflective state of it's face. Mirrorface took another step closer to Hezekiah, breaking it's imitation of a statue. It held out a hand for Hezekiah to grab onto. He hesitated at first, but Hezekiah placed his palm into its glove. Using that, he stood up on his feet, looking right at Mirrorface.

"My employers ask for me to relay a message…" It hissed, "Hezekiah Brooks. Return back to Unity. Fight for its survival. Your nation is not your ally. The Imperials are not your enemies. No longer will you fight for your country. Your country will not, and cannot, help you. Now, you will fight for your family."

"My family? So I gotta… I gotta go back to Albany? Talk to my mom? What?" Hezekiah persistently asked. The Mirrorface did not answer. It only stared. Something about it seemed as if it were trying to say, No. But couldn't. Or wouldn't. It kept referencing some employers, something even more powerful than it that seemed to hold a lot of power over it and its abilities. What could be more powerful than a being that could cross dimensions at will?

'Family? Fight for my Family…' Hezekiah thought long and hard. He had to fight for his family, and yet his country wouldn't help him? Mirrorface couldn't have been talking about his biological family. For Hezekiah only knew two people who could fit that role, and of those, only one really even cared about him.

Hezekiah's head shifted back up to face the creature. It dawned on him. Unity was his family. Jefferson and the rest of High Command were out to try and erase them. The United States would not help. His enemies weren't the Imperials. His enemy, ultimately, was his own country.

"My employers have allowed you one more opportunity to refuse, now that you realize the danger of what lies ahead," Hezekiah's eyes widened in surprise. The creature was again giving him the choice, "Your loyalty will be decided once and for all. Who do you stand with? What do you believe? Accept the mission, defend your family, and become the hero. Reject the mission, and remain as just another tool. Disposable. Replaceable…"

Lost in the void was a pile of dirt. The very same one that Hezekiah had planted the seed in. It was placed a little while away behind the Mirrorface, who didn't acknowledge its existence. Only looking directly at Hezekiah. It was giving him the opportunity to go back. He took a few steps forward. Eyeballing the dirt with an expectant gaze as if it were going to suddenly burst into an enourmous beanstalk that reached and spiraled into the ever infinite void of the dream world. Though it only lay there, motionless.

Hezekiah reached a hand out, ready to dig the seed out. Willing to go back. To throw it all away. Briefly he stopped to look back. The Mirrorface only watched from a distance. Arms folded behind its back. It wouldn't stop him. He could go back to normal. All he needed to do was dig up the seed and give it back to the creature. He could protect Unity that way. He couldn't hurt anyone else if he was just normal. He didn't want to be the hero. He couldn't save anyone. He could hardly save himself…

His hands stopped. He was making a mistake. He was once again being a coward, hiding away from the truth of the situation to protect his own safety. Unity could never be safe if he wasn't there to protect them. There was so much here, so much to learn, explore, and struggle for. He couldn't throw it away for a momentary time of safety. Besides, if he rejected the mission, he would still be stuck in the Marines. But a Marine without a future. Resigning himself to whatever forces lie higher up the chain of command.

He grimaced, looked back at Mirrorface to confirm that it hadn't moved, and turned again to the pile of dirt. Hezekiah let out an exasperated sigh, standing up. Leaving the seed right where it was, "I want to know…" Hezekiah began, without turning around to look at the creature, "How many more have to die because of me?"

The Mirrorface said nothing.

"How many more people am I going to hurt because of this? And why?"

"The universe works in mysterious ways Mister Brooks. My employers only give me select slices of information to do my work. Everything else, I remain ignorant of."

"Who are your employers? God?"

"In due time, Mister Brooks. In due time everything you desire to know will be made clear."

Hezekiah looked at the Mirrorface. He prepared himself for his last question, "Who am I fighting?"

"The Guardians. They are hunting you, Mister Brooks. They control all of the magic in Mysterium. Soon, they'll control the wealth of knowledge in the universe. They don't know who you are exactly, but they will find out," It said. Hezekiah remembered that name. Guardians. The elves had talked explicitly of them as being hyper-magical beings that secluded themselves somwhere in the continent. He would have to fight them after all, "They are powerful, but not invincible. You will defeat them. And once you do, you'll be officially accepted into the fold as one of our… assets. If you will."

"The Guardians? Hunting me?"

"You will be armed and prepared to fight them. Trust me, it will all play out in the end. It always will. No matter what."

Hezekiah again hesitated as he looked back to the pile of dirt, "Do not fear. Whether you gain success or failure will be determined by how ready you are to fight for what you truly believe in. Entrust yourself to the safety of your new family, stand up to every issue with courage and believe me when I say that nothing will be able to kill you so long as you do what you know is right. I cannot, will not, and have not lied to you…" The words coming from the creature were becoming strange. Not necessarily in content, but because of who was speaking them. The Mirrorface seemed to be a cold, calculating, all-knowingly superior being. The words it spoke, however, felt comforting, "If you need something from us, I will contact you when appropriate. With all that being said, will you still accept or decline the mission? Choose wisely mister Brooks."

Hezekiah sighed. He stood up fully, away from the pile of dirt. He wasn't ready. He wasn't brave. And he wasn't willing to do any of this. And yet, he had to. Hezekiah couldn't give up. Not now, not ever, "I accept... again," Hezekiah said.

The Mirrorface, upon hearing his response, walked closer to Hezekiah. It placed a hand on his shoulder. Hezekiah for the first time was able to touch the creature. The hand felt warm, almost buzzing with an electric current travelling through it that tickled his shoulder gently. The grasp was firm, but not painful. The mirrored surface of the creatures face was all encompassing now. Glowing with light and color. Was it happy? Excited? Did it feel emotion at all? Hezekiah wasn't sure…

"If you accept... then wake up, Mister Brooks… wake up and smell the ashes…"

Hezekiah closed his eyes…

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

Suffering. That was the name of the game. Brian hadn't known suffering until now. Sitting on a flimsy folding chair placed in a loose circle in a room with about twelve other men and women. They were being lectured by some pencil-pushing psychologist from nowhere on why he should be "Happy" and "express himself in positive ways". Brian hated this guy. He reeked of the forced corporate positivity that he despised back during his Highschool days working as a pimple-studded burger flipper in Seattle.

Every time the guy opened his mouth, it sounded like he was purposely trying to belittle him. He didn't understand what Brian had to go through in order to get here, he didn't understand what happened, "Now I know that we are perhaps… feeling negativity in the world around us. And it's important to understand that our job as Marines are to go out into the danger, and into the negativity. We bring our sense of duty and honor, our sense of responsibility and brotherhood, and our courage, and we bring some light into this dark world…"

But it was the hypocrisy that did it for Brian. Brian was being lectured like he had commited some grave act. Like he was being rehabilitated for saving people. At least Hezekiah made the distinction that he wasn't being punished for being a good Samaritan, rather for disobeying Hezekiah. But Brian knew good and well that no matter how upset Hezekiah got, he'd do the same thing ten times over. Whatever got him sent back home the fastest. If he died in the process, it'd be even better. At least his family could have pride in the fact that their son died a hero. Brian was going to be that hero, no matter what. He didn't need this dipshit telling him that he needed reform.

"Our enviornment is stressful… and we as soldiers see that and feel like it's up to us individually to make things right. But sometimes, we just have to sit back and admit that our officers know what's best."

Brian rolled his eyes and leaned back in his seat as far as his chair would allow his spine, trying his best to tune out everything coming his way. Unfortunately, it attracted the attention of the group's psychologist, whose name was Leo. Leo looked his way, recognizing Brian as the newest addition to the session, "Oh, and it looks like we have a new face here with us. I apologize but I didn't know previously… what was it you said your name was again?"

Brian returned to a slouched position giving Leo the dead-eye to signal he had lost all interest in anything going on. But Leo's persitiveness on getting a audible reaction from the Private forced words out of Brian's mouth, Brian… Brian Yale."

"And your rank?"

"Private."

"I've heard of you…spill the beans on why you're here. It's okay, we are all friends here," Leo's corniness forced a repulsive scowl onto Brian's face. He felt like throwing up. Everybody else in the group hesitantly placed their eyes onto Brian, and he was shoved into the spotlight. Next time, he'll try harder to remain as inconspicuous as possible.

"My story?" Brian repeated the question.

"Tell us as much as you'd like. Most of the people here were referred to me by Jefferson because of things like… say an emotional breakdown, or insubordination-related to emotional distress. Stuff of that nature. Feel free to share as much as you'd like. We're all listening."

Brian gulped hard, somehow Leo even more than he already did, "Alright… my story," Brian said after a pause, "We were in Minerva, at the City Hall."

That caused some people to turn his way. The City Hall was no little deal, and prior to the evacuation of the civillian population; Unity, Hazard, and Sergeant Wade's Platoon were seen as heroes once word got out that they survived the helicopter crash, "You're Unity?"

Brian nodded, "It was totally like… some final stand type-deal, you know? We were stuck there and we had the Iscariot guys surrounding us. We were fighting side-by-side with the revolutionary dudes and all…" Brian's eyes glossed over when he got into the details, "I swear… those guys were like allies to us. So when I asked about what was gonna happen to them when we left, I was pissed when they told us that we were just gonna abandon them."

"Ah," Leo engaged in Brian's story. That audible cue was a bait to get Brian to speak more, and Brian knew it. Though, by now, Brian wanted to tell the story the way he saw it. The way it happened. The truth.

"Anyways, there was the big gas attack but it turns out it was a sorta fuel-air-bomb right? I still have scars from that. And it was the revolutionaries who saved my life… they saved my squad's life… in fact my Staff Sergeant was healed by one of the Kiote elf dudes. And I was just thinking to myself," Brian pointed a finger at his head to imitate the expression of thought, "'man… we're abandoning the guys who saved our lives?' what kinda messed up stuff is that?"

"That certainly puts things into perspective," Leo said, pointing a finger at Brian, "So it was all of this built up anger at the… let's say… uncaringness of your officers for the lives of people you considered friends that caused you to disobey the words of your CO and force the Refugees onto our helicopters to safety."

"More than that!" Brian snapped. Leo had managed to tap into a hidden rage inside of Brian's mind. Anger directed at Major Jefferson, "Jefferson is a known psychopath! I mean… the guy is evil! I bet he doesn't even walk, the guy freaking levitates! He tells us to do these absolutely… god awful things and acts like he's the one with all the power…"

"What did he tell you to do specifically?" Leo pressed even further. There were some nods going around the circle, it was obvious that Brian and Unity weren't the only ones to feel that way.

Brian was about to tell him the disaster that was the bridges of Minerva. But he stopped dead in his tracks. He couldn't tell him specifics on what happened. Not here. Not now, "We had to kill people… innocent people… civillians…"

"Did you try to protest it?"

"Yeah! I thought that my Squad leader had my back… I thought that he wanted me to do the right thing. Y'know? But, when I did he just completely… wailed on me. I thought he'd be proud…"

Leo gave him a sympathetic look which again irked Brian. Brian didn't want his sympathy, he wanted things to change. He didn't even want Leo to truly believe him. He just wanted to have the opportunity to help people, not hurt them. The only opinion that really mattered to Brian was that of his own Squad Leader, as he was the man he looked up to like a hero these past few months. To see his own hero turn his back on him was brutal, he felt like he had gotten a kick in the ribs with steel-toed boots, "I see-"

"No! You don't see! You never see! You only say that so that you can give me fake sympathy so I'll just keep running along like a cog in the machine! Don't say that you see! Don't mock me!"

"Brian, everything that you are feeling is completely natural. But as a Marine, you must know that you have to remain in control of your own emotions. Between you and me, violating an illegal order in the face of trouble both inside the squad and with command is not only a noble thing to do, but the only good option. However, you must understand to limit your own outbursts. I mean this in as respectful a way as possible… now,"

"Let me try and see things in your perspective. You think that your leadership, more specifically Major Jefferson, is creating an atmosphere in your squad that doesn't feel orderly, but instead more oppressive. Perhaps you feel like this whole situation is very Kafkaesque?"

"Kafka…Kafkaesque? Yeah… sure… Kafkaesque."

"It means oppressive. Like an unending bureaucratic mess that one can never argue with, but must fall in line no matter what. Like a infinite DMV."

"Yeah, totally. Kafkaesque. That's right."

"I have it on good authority that you are not alone to think that. In fact, a majority of the Marines here feel at least somewhat pissed off at the actions of Jefferson. I know everybody here is, right?" The marines around the circle nodded their heads in agreement with a few raising their hands, "Right. But it is equally important to remember that you don't have any other choice but to continue to do your regular duty as a member of the USMC. You have the full ability to disobey whatever illegal command may come your way, and no matter the punishment, you should continue to defy illegal commands. But your normal work still has to be done."

"…Yeah, I… I guess."

"I want you to leave out of here today and rejoin your squad. They'll send you out on more missions, and I expect you'll do your assigned duty. I have nothing but full respect and admiration for your work, and I am completely behind you. We are a brother and sisterhood here. We look out for each other. If you have an issue, speak to your squad. They are the closest thing you'll have to a family out here."

"But my squad leader is acting like a total douche! He blames me for what happened just because he had to get yelled at for a few hours! He thinks I'm the bad guy! I mean… I wanted to… y'know… I wanted to do good. He told us that we would be heros for the work we'd do out here. I thought that... I thought he'd be proud."

"You wanted to impress him?"

"What? No! That sounds… I dunno, weirdly gay?"

"I meant that in as platonic of a way as possible. You'll be surprised how many subordinates do bizzare things for the approval of people they consider as close-friends higher up the chain of command. And to me, it seems like you're no different."

"No... no, It's just now, he's completely being an ass!"

"Stress does that to people. Even your officers. At the end of the day, we're all human. I think… correct me if I'm wrong here… but I think you look up to your officer as a sort of role model. Right?"

"…"

"Right?"

"Sure…"

"Then talk to him. Tell him what I'm telling you. That you stand by what you did. And that everything you've done, you've done with nothing but the best intentions."

"…"

"I wish you good luck," Leo told Brian with a faint smile behind those large-circular glasses of his that seemed comparable to Brian's, "I also ask, all of you- not just Brian - one question... If you had a superpower, what would it be?"

The soldiers in the room initially hesitated, looking around at each other as they were uncomfortably shoved into the spotlight. But Leo swiftly clarified, with a calming swipe of the hand, "That's rhetorical. I don't necessarily want you to answer it now. Just think about it. It's a mental practice that I hope will allow you the opportunity to find out what it is that you truly want and desire. Or, at the very least, put you on that path," Brian sighed, realizing that Leo's words were rather genuine and calming more than anything else. He took the advice that Leo gave him to heart. Hoping that this would be the last time he'd have to come here, though having no guarantee of that happening.

An hour had passed of even more of the group therapy session. Brian felt worn out by the end of it. He stood outside of the repurposed building that it took place in, one of the upper floors of the old Iscariot garrison that the Marines had infested and rebuilt. The previously blue skies were turning into a darker shade of purple. The moon was already out.

He heard footsteps walk up to him, and he turned to see Flint's stubbled face and blue eyes, "Finally, he lives!" Flint exclaimed, throwing his hands up to emphasize his forced drama. It almost provoked a chuckle out of Brian, though the kid managed to maintain his straight face, "Relax, B-man. I'm not like… with Hezekiah or anything. I'm just here to pick you up."

"So what's happening now?" Brian asked.

Flint shrugged, "They say that we're headed back to Ithaca."

Brian looked up at him with massive eyes filled with hope, but before he could say anything, Flint quickly shot his hopes down, "Nope! Before you even think about it, we are not going home! So, forget it! Alright?"

Brian sighed, letting his back hit the stone-brick wall. He slid down onto his rear to sit with his legs up as he huffed in both dissapointment and exauhstion, "Listen B-Man, the sooner you get that idea out of your head, the less you'll be dissapointed. Trust me."

Brian sighed, knowing full well that Flint was right, "Yeah… I know."

"Hezekiah was looking for you," Flint admitted. Upon hearing that sentence, Brian immediately looked back up at Flint with eyes that conveyed nothing but fear. Quickly, Flint dissuaded his worries, "He just wants to talk with you, man. He said that he was sorry… you know, he called you a part of his family?"

"Family?"

"Yeah… families gotta stick together, right? Look out for one another… I think. Whatever bullshit Hezekiah was on before, he's off it now. He'll probably talk to you when we get back to Ithaca, or whatever."

"Right on…" Brian whispered.

"C'mon, B-man. Let's make like a tree. We gotta go pack our stuff," Flint was about to walk off, but he was stopped by Brian.

"Hey Flint?"

"Yeah?"

"If you had a superpower… what would it be?"

"Me? I dunno…maybe… grow weed for hair?"

"Weed for hair?"

Flint thought it over again before turning back to him and nodding, fully confident in his answer, "Yeah. Weed for hair. That'd be dope!"

"I'm gonna be honest... I wasn't expecting that."

"I'm like a fucking ninja, expect-the-unexpected!" Flint laughed aloud, slapping Brian on the shoulder to get him to walk. The two continued to share jokes with each other as they made their way back to the camp...

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

"Wake up, Sergeant! C'mon man, we're headed out!"

Hezekiah's eyes opened.

Quinn was peering at him. He was geared up. Helmet, boots, body armor. His rifle was even slung around his back. Hezekiah, meanwhile, was still in his patrol uniform. He rubbed his eyes free of the weight of drowsiness, grasping the hand that Quinn had offered, "What's the word?" Hezekiah asked.

"They're sending us all back to Ithaca."

"Who's us?"

"Most of 1st Battalion is going back. I dunno anything about it though."

Hezekiah grumbled as he got dressed, ready for his mission…