“Children, I have an announcement. The seven names on the torches, you know the ones, are forbidden to be spoken of. It upsets Mr. Cook and his associates to hear them.” Was the first thing said by Agent Nein when everyone gathered for lunch.
“As I said on the first day, he’s had a very rough time of things lately and we should be considerate of his feelings.” Miss Milla added.
Agent Cruller… or rather, “Mr. Cook” had calmed down in time for lunch, although he seemed… twitchier than he was at breakfast. Hopefully he’ll remain stable, the nature of his madness combined with the fact that there is nothing that can contain the man beyond his own delusions provided something of a conundrum.
Damn Truman Zanotto for putting children within the blast radius of this ticking time bomb. Putting the man in a mental asylum for one wasn’t exactly what Tanya would call an ideal solution, but it was at least a stopgap!
Briefly, as Tanya waited for Agent Cruller to finish distributing the meals, she considered what the man’s mental world would even look like. Supposedly, according to the propaganda comics, his mind was shattered as a casualty to the battle against the Deluge of Grulovia, Maligula. But would that shattering appear literal within the mind? It would explain why they’d phrase it that way, at least.
Come to think of it, how did a famous hydrokinetic inflict such serious telepathic damage? Back then, multidisciplinary psychics were unheard of with the exception of Ford himself and his confederates, and she’d have to be an incredibly potent telepath in order to do such a thing. Even today, psychics tend to monofocus on a single discipline, branching out to basics like Astral Projection and associated skills as they need. Only Tanya’s past life memories allowed her such quick mastery of the kinetic arts.
“Here you go, Missy.” Agent Cruller said as he placed the hamburger with cheese and bacon in front of her, surrounded by a line of thick fries. Artery-clogging, but at least the man was skilled at whatever tasks he dedicated himself to in his madness, and understood portion sizes. “You’re a growing gi…” His eye twitched as he blanked out for a moment, before resuming right where he left off. “...kid, and you need your protein.” He patted Tanya’s head and abruptly vanished, teleporting back to the grill to clean his workstation. So convenient…
About two minutes into the meal, Norma started to stand up, her food only half eaten. Immediately, Agent Cruller appeared behind her. “Finish your food!” He said, half-yelling at the girl.
“But-” Norma began, before being interrupted by Agent Cruller.
“The only butt here is the one that’s going back in your seat.” Agent Cruller said, telekinetic hands enforcing his instruction by shoving her down by the shoulders. “Finish your food.” He said again.
Norma looked at Miss Milla, Agent Nein, and her older sister, but after a tense moment, decided to just shove what was left of her burger into her mouth, looking vaguely ill but swallowing it under the stern gaze of the unstable psychic.
Lizzie’s gaze was arctic as it assessed the old man. Ice crystals formed around him, but he countered the cryokinesis with his own pyrokinesis without even seeming to notice.
Still, lunch resolved without any explosions, which was more than Tanya had expected after that announcement.
The counselors led the campers back into the ‘classroom’, which was really just a meditation chamber filled with cushions, and directed the group to enter Agent Nein’s mind for PSI blast training.
After the last camper entered Agent Nein’s mind, Tanya felt it was time to raise her concerns. “Agent Cruller is a problem.” She announced.
Miss Milla winced, but nodded. “Yes, I think that Grand Head Zanotto underestimated the risk.”
Agent Nein hummed to himself. “Well, it wasn’t the Grand Head’s idea to contain Ford by creating a summer camp. That was Agent Forscythe.”
“Really?” Tanya asked. She seemed so sensible!
“Yes.” Agent Nein confirmed. “The part where the summer camp became a revenue-generating project for the Psychonauts, that was Grand Head Zanotto’s idea.” Ah. That sounded more like the Psychonauts that Tanya was familiar with.
Wait. Tanya tilted her head. “...How much are the other campers getting charged for this? Three out of nine already live on base…”
“This is an experimental session.” Agent Nein explained. ‘It’s not meant to turn a profit this run.” In other words, not nearly enough. “We’ll need to at least double the number of campers in the future.”
Miss Milla nodded along. “Yes. We’ll need a little more help, I think, even if Ford manages to stabilize his new personalities to be less volatile.”
“I believe Agent Oleander expressed interest in, quote, ‘training the new recruits’, unquote, when the project was proposed.” Agent Nein added offhandedly as he fetched a cigarette.
“Hm.” Miss Milla said, her smile shrinking a bit. “Morry can be a bit… much.” She glanced at Tanya. “We should probably explore our other options first.”
“There’s not many other options, unfortunately.” Agent Nein groused. “Most agents don’t particularly like children. The ones that do, tend to have their hands full with their own.”
Wait, this was a chance to get out of coming in the future. “Also, I suspect having the child of one of the counselors here is causing some friction. Picking agents that would bring their own spawn with them could be problematic.”
Miss Milla narrowed her eyes suspiciously at Tanya. “Has anyone teased you for being my daughter?” She asked.
“Not directly.” Tanya assured her, before elaborating. “There was a comment about special treatment.”
“Well, I’m not leaving you alone for two weeks.” Miss Milla said decisively. “But if you’d like me to treat you more like the other campers…” She offered.
Tanya thought about it for a moment, then shook her head. “No, given what’s occurred, preferential treatment is still ideal.” Tanya flushed and shuffled in place, suddenly uncomfortable with the topic drift.
Miss Milla giggled. “Tanya darling, that’s not special treatment.” Tanya stiffened. “I’m happy to help any camper with problems, no matter who or what they are. I’m not sure if you’re aware, but I’m a bit of a childcare expert.” She was very competent at dealing with the group home, although Tanya always tried to keep her burden as light as possible. “The only reason we’re doing things this way is because of your own stubbornness.” She said, slightly scolding. “You’re the one who is putting a blindfold on, after all. It’s not like you’re asking me to do anything I haven’t done before.”
Ah, the ‘I used to powder your bottom’ argument. The weapon of caretakers everywhere. Tanya distinctly recalled Sister Wagner being particularly fond of uttering it at the church orphanage. Still, this called for a topic change. “Fair point.” Tanya said, conceding the argument. “Nevertheless, it’s probably a good time to do some more training in the Psychoisolation chamber.”
“Right. That.” Miss Milla said, the smile in her tone gone. “You know, there’s nothing that could possibly be in your mind that would make me think less of you.”
“Of course not.” Tanya deflected. “Nevertheless, psychic construction is a very useful skill that will be important to my future.” As a Psychonaut, was the implication. As a media producer, was the truth. VR games would be ungodly popular and lucrative, and developing a psychic interface that was safe and couldn’t be used to scramble the brains of the user would be a technology that would make the developer ludicrously wealthy.
Miss Milla huffed, logic rebuffing her emotional appeal. Even ignoring the accusations of insanity that would inevitably follow, Tanya still needed to be sure that the type 95’s influence was gone before allowing anyone access to that potential minefield. Not having encountered it in the ‘new’ section was promising, but the old one was more likely to exhibit it. “Well, okay. But first, we should make sure you’re fully prepared. Come on.” She took off into the air and floated to the girl’s cabin.
Tanya sighed and followed along. It was times like this that Tanya understood the appeal of concepts like karma. Sure, implementing a diaper ration to the soldiers in the trenches reduced casualties to certain diseases by half, something like ten percent overall, which amounted to thousands of lives saved, so she didn’t regret that decision one bit, but if there was some kind of cosmic force ensuring that those who inflict suffering suffer in turn, it would be earning its wage about now.
It was after fifteen minutes of ‘extra special treatment’, which in this case was code for ‘hugs, cuddles, and clean clothes’ that Tanya was led back to the Psychoisolation chamber. After the incident with Ford, she was probably under the impression that Tanya required all of these things in order to regain equilibrium. She was wrong on all of these points. Tanya spent two lifetimes without needing to be cuddled, so no matter how pleasant it was, it was a luxury, not a requirement. That said, luxuries were meant to be enjoyed, so she meditated and allowed Miss Milla the illusion of performing a vital service.
The psychoisolation chamber was swelteringly hot, and stank of cleaning chemicals. Fortunately, it wasn’t any problems that couldn’t be solved with liberal application of psychic powers. Cryokinesis could be bent towards cooling air, and psychic barriers could be used to move large-ish quantities of it to move the frigid, and thus denser, air without issue, leaving pleasantly cool air, freshly drawn from outside, within.
“That’s clever…” Commented Miss MIla.
“Can’t take credit for the cryokinesis.” Tanya commented. “Agent Boole demonstrated the technique to me last year.” She shrugged. “The air scoop is just basic physics.” Miss Milla hummed, vaguely disapproving. What was that about?
“Well, I’ll come back for dinner.” Miss Milla said. “You’ll be sleeping in the cabin tonight.” That’s fair.
“Understood.” Tanya said before closing the door.
Now… time to wade into the blood and guts of the Rhine once more.
----------------
One of the ‘rules’ of having psychic powers is that if you manage to do something once, it’s a lot easier to do it again. It was why Tanya was able to so easily master any psychic power she could relate a mage formula to. It was why Miss Milla could, from her office, astrally project into the minds of certain psychonauts agents on the other side of the planet.
It was also why Tanya wanted to make sure she could handle herself before inevitably opening their mind for a brief perusal. While they couldn’t exploit it without her noticing and she could… probably block their entrance if needed, Miss Milla and Agent Nein would have a backdoor into her mind the second they stepped an astral foot into it.
Come to think of it… maybe allowing Agent Nein on the tour wouldn’t be a good idea. Miss Milla was just worried about her child’s mental state and has the tools to check on it, so a reasonable facsimile of a healthy mindscape would be enough for her. Agent Nein though… he would be curious. Being the subject of Agent Nein’s curiosity is a dangerous place to be.
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Enough dithering. Tanya laid back on the padded floor on the Psychoisolation chamber and focused on that bed, easily transitioning back into her own mind. She stood up immediately, shrugging off the hypnotic properties of the room.
Instead of going to the motherlobe, Tanya floated immediately towards the plain wooden door, her patchwork outfit transitioning to be completely the white gown that was folded to swaddle infants in the church orphanage.
Crossing the threshold, Tanya followed Agent Nein’s instructions on how to manifest objects properly.
“First, you must recall the memory you’re drawing upon to fetch the object.” Tanya murmured to herself. An image of the General staff issuing her orders emerged in her mind. “Then, you focus specifically on the object. Three details for best results.” Tanya directed her thoughts to recall the gleam of the Silver Wings Assault badge, the texture of the trousers’ fabric, neither fine nor rough. Finally, she focused on the weight of the too-large hat, with the need to balance her head properly in order to keep it out of her eyes. “Then, you think about something else, which vents the figment. Reclaim it before it fully manifests by drawing it to yourself with a thought.” Just like that, the linen gown was replaced with her officer’s uniform, although unlike before, she was still using the soft body of her third life, unweathered by the ravages of malnutrition and military training.
With that vital step completed, Tanya looked over the area dedicated to her second life. Explosions easily identified as a continuous artillery bombardment ravaged the trench-riddled landscape, literal rivers of blood flowing through each one into one massive flow. The stench of war was easily identified, the smell of putrefied guts mixed with shit, mud, and gunpowder into an aroma that Tanya would never forget. Soldiers deformed into the same anime-faced caricatures that inhabited the other section, wading through the blood rivers and shooting anyone in a different trench, with nothing distinguishing the two sides of the pointless conflict. It was every man for themselves, with each one that fell back into the blood emerging elsewhere to continue fighting.
Taking off into the sky, Tanya surveyed the massive battlefield for landmarks, as she could tell that the wide open area represented very little directly beyond her educated opinion of war. From overhead, she could confirm that the largest river of blood matched the shape of the Rhine river, the place where she made one of her many names. After a moment, she saw some. “Visha?” She asked out loud.
“Right here, Major!” Visha the bear-girl said, suddenly appearing at Tanya’s side.
“Those whirlpools of blood, what’s in them?” Tanya asked.
Visha saluted needlessly. “Each one is a shrine to your most notable battles.” She replied. Ah. Where her nightmares are kept, then.
“Hm. Well-hidden, I suppose.” She only noticed them as important due to a difficult to describe awareness of her mind’s geometry. She didn’t really notice it on her first trip, but the sense was stronger now. “Now about those glowing cracks in the sky, and that bottomless pit with the golden light coming out of it.”
“Don’t go down there.” Visha immediately warned. “It’s dangerous.”
“Oh? What is it?” Tanya asked, curious.
Visha swallowed thickly at the idea. “That’s where the Devil lives.” She whispered.
Ah. Some kind of representation of… something related to her second life. Something horrible, presumably. The type 95’s influence, perhaps? Being X? There’s a few options. Nevertheless, disturbing it would not be a good idea right now. “I’ll stay away.” She promised her adjutant.
“Good.” Visha replied. She pointed in the distance. “If we fly that way, we’ll reach Berun.” Eh? Now that Tanya focused, she could sense another transition in that uncracked part of the sky.
“Onwards, then.” Tanya said as she flew straight into the transition. In the liminal space, the battlefield rapidly retreated at far greater speeds than her flight would ordinarily allow. At the same time, the nondescript Imperial wilderness quickly flew beneath her, taking only a single minute for an urban area to show up beneath her. “Here we are.” She announced out loud.
On review, the place this memory recorded was not Berun. Each structure used a different style, some Imperial, some Francois, some even Japanese or Russy. The Imperial War College was visible in the distance, even though it was nowhere near Berun. Finally, the Army Headquarters was tall and monolithic in a way that it wasn’t in reality. It was as if it was melded with a generic office building in Japan, if she had to identify the influence.
Was this the building she worked in her first life? …Probably, but there wasn’t any logo or anything beyond the Imperial double-dragon to confirm that one way or another. Maybe if she found her old office…
Tanya’s eyes caught the entrance to an underground train station. Or maybe… She landed onto the street, familiar stone painted with the traffic lines of modern concrete roads. An odd juxtaposition, but if she got hung up on every slap-dash fusion here she’d never get anywhere. The people who were wandering were, much like the soldiers, anime-faced caricatures of various archetypes. Soldiers, civilians, even Japanese schoolgirls and boys wearing middle school uniforms.
…Was that the one for her own school? No, she was pretty sure this one was from an anime. Her own school had… Tanya frowned. It wasn’t that important. She waved away the figments that had lingered like annoying gnats, and realized her mistake too late when she touched one of the schoolgirl uniform figments, her outfit transforming as appropriate.
“Major, you look so cute!” Visha exclaimed, hugging Tanya enthusiastically. “Was that really how girls dressed in Japan?” She asked innocently.
“No.” Tanya immediately responded. “This skirt is way too short. It’s clearly something I saw once in one of those anime with far too many panty shots.” She couldn’t identify the exact one, unfortunately. It seemed pretty distinctive, too. Mostly white with purple accents and a purple bow on the jacket, with a purple shirt beneath and a white office skirt to finish the ensemble off. Did Tanya ever see something like this? The jacket had long sleeves with some kind of blue circle in a black chevron as a symbol, but Tanya was drawing a blank as to where it came from. “It’s not important.” She immediately repeated her previous steps to change her outfit again, quickly regaining her officer’s uniform.
As she walked to the train station, random people stood to attention and saluted her, as appropriate for her visible rank insignias if soldiers did it. But it looked kind of odd for that shrunken old woman to do it without hesitation.
Nevermind that. Tanya walked down the stairs, finding what would be a pretty ordinary train station… if it wasn’t monochrome and had every single thing within it be absolutely still, like time had decided to go home for the day before completing the day’s tasks. “Hm.” Floating above the crowd, Tanya went to the train. Surprisingly, there wasn’t a tall japanese man in front of it, about to get hit. That accursed drug addict was similarly missing. The door was open, though. Inside the train, it was empty with the sole exception of a train map with a lever in front… which was front and center like it was a selection rather than a helpful map to remind people.
Ah, Tanya understood things now. A glance at the door to the train conductor confirmed to her senses that the door was a wall: There was nothing there. The stations were all labeled.
The Front Lines
Frontways Station (You are here)
The Church of Valkyries
The School of Missed Chances
The Office of General Fools
The End of the Line
“Major, I did notice another station back before we flew here.” Visha observed. That must be where that first option goes.
“Hm. I suppose we’ll do this in order.” Tanya said to Visha. The bear-girl immediately pressed the button for the church and the train immediately closed and started moving.
The train station was completely identical to the other one, so Tanya ignored the frozen anime characters and moved outside.
The Church was a cathedral with a statue of a saint in front… at least that’s what Tanya assumed before noticing that the statue was of the Bloody Valkyrie. Of course she was here. It wasn’t a very flattering statue… Well, it actually was, in the sense that she was wearing a gauzy toga-dress thing rather than a flight suit, and while Tanya couldn’t definitively state that the proportions were inaccurate, it did make her seem quite beautiful. At least, if you ignored the blood-soaked status of it, the rictus of hate deforming the face, the emptiness in her eyes faithfully recreating what they looked like as she died, and the gaping wound right below her breasts. Despite what Mary would like people to believe, the number of people she had to kill by coating her hands in mage blades and jamming it into the enemy’s torso was very small. It was four. Mary was one of them, mind you, but that just meant she was biased. Most of her melee kills were with her bayonet.
She walked into the Church like she owned the place… because she did. The place was covered in art depicting Being X. Some of it had him doing things like laughing maniacally while puppeting things, and others included him getting introduced to the kind of violence that he seems to like so much. The actual benches seemed to have been replaced with… actors?
“Okay people, let’s move on to scenario four!” Shouted the man with the director’s visor on his head. He was absurdly tall, wearing a regular business suit with a trenchcoat. She couldn’t see his face, but he had black hair closely cut and styled to his head, a practical decision. There were two prop-people on the stage, one dressed as Being X… poorly, the other dressed as Mary.
“Visha? Who’s that?” Tanya whispered.
“That’s the Director of Mental Resources.” Visha whispered back. “He’s the one who decides what dreams you have and stuff. He’s super-wise, the oldest one here by a mile.”
What did that mean? Was this… a leftover from her first life?
The Director pointed at the fake Being X. “Okay, so the puny mortal has died again. You put her into another stinking orphanage to get vivisected by spies, everything’s going according to plan, but then you realize she’s not suffering enough!”
The actor chuckled darkly. “Burn her house down.”
“We’ve already covered that angle.” The Director snapped back. “This time, you realize you still had a brainwashed pawn you weren’t doing anything with. You could use this to make Tanya suffer.” He looked around the stage, checking the place of each entity supporting the endeavor. “Action!” He shouts.
Mary’s actress, having laid down on the stage artfully, bursts up. “What’s going on?” She said, panicked. “Where’s the Devil?” She really had the girl down pat. Clearly, this imaginary actress will go far.
“Behold, for I am THE LORD, your god.” Rattled off the Being X actor. “Know that you have been chosen to enact My Will.”
“Anything!” Mary’s actress replied, pleading with worship in her eyes.
“The Devil of the Rhine has, in her treacherous nature, escaped hell.” Being X’s actor proclaimed solemnly. “None outside of the Heavenly Host can best this demon, and so it is you I must send to unearth that creature’s whereabouts.”
“But my lord,” Mary’s actress said, scared. “-she has hidden herself from your sight? But I am just a girl, a dead one!”
“Only one with the conviction of a true believer has a chance of piercing that princess of lies’ deceptions.” Being X’s actor replied. “I must send you to be reborn in the place she is hiding. Find her, and bring her back into My Light. Even one such as she can be saved, if she only prays for it.”
Mary’s actress did a fantastic job demonstrating the fierce resolve of a zealot. “I won’t let you down! Deus Vult!” Hrm, Tanya didn’t even consider before that Mary could have received a direct quest from Being X before. It seemed too outlandish. But now? It makes all too much sense.
“Cut!” The Director said. “Excellent work. Now, I have to get rid of some pests. Take five.” He then turned towards Tanya and Visha.
The Director of Mental Resources was an immense man, tall and broad in a way that would make him blessed if he were real. He did not have a face, but instead a theater mask with an impassive expression carved into it. “Oh.” He said, unimpressed. “It’s you.”
Tanya hummed as she looked the man over. She would have liked to look like this in her first life. He was probably based off of some idealized version of her first life’s appearance, because she didn’t remember being nearly two meters tall. She was only… It was definitely above average… Okay that wasn’t important either. “Yes.” She replied. “It’s me. The one in charge here.”
The Director scoffed. “Sure you are.” He replied with an amused lilt. “I’m hard at work, as you can see. I know you’ve forgotten what that means, so move along, little girl.”
Tanya’s eye twitched in annoyance. “About that. I’d like to log a complaint about last night’s dreams.” She didn’t quite remember the details, but they were incredibly embarrassing, she remembered that part. Really, she should be complaining about the total lack of pleasant dreams. One thing at a time.
The Direct’s mask exploded off of his face, another one with an enraged expression replacing it. “What did you say?” He growled. “Those dreams were the perfect warnings. Every indulgence you give Vodello risks her deciding to take things further. It’s a logical progression, Tanya. First, it’s reasonable precautions about a known risk. Then, it’s ‘comforting’ you with cuddling. Then, before you know it, she’s strapping you into a stroller and it’s back to a liquid diet!” He nodded to himself. “Psychics aren’t a large community, Tanya. Odds are good you’ll be seeing the other campers down the line, and you know more than anyone how long memory can stretch. Lily already knows, and all it takes is one other girl teasing her in order to have her sell you out to redirect their aggression.”
Tanya gulped. That dream was beginning to come back to her now, and it was a bit intimidating how small each step was. “Perhaps so, but you’ve skipped quite a few steps, there.”
“I said enough to remind you what’s at stake here.” He said, his mask exploding again and reappearing as a neutral expression. “Now, I’ve got a lot of scenarios to go through to ensure preparedness for anything Sioux might pull.” He said, turning around and sitting back into his director’s chair. “Then I have to prepare for Cruller’s nonsense, times three… no wait, I should do stuff with the old personas too. My point is, I’m swamped! Go away.”
In her first two lives, such disrespect would have angered her. But in this one? All of Tanya’s indignation just failed to appear as she turned away from the intimidating man and left the area back to the train. He was just doing his job.
As she walked past the statue of Mary’s corpse, she now understood one thing: She should really worry more about Mary’s presence in this life.