Matrioshka wrestled her attention back towards her lattice and into a simulation of her father's room. She plopped down onto a soft beanbag, ruffling her dress. Matrioshka took the rings off her hands, and trembling, she threw them towards the wall. Each struck with a satisfying sound.

Matrioshka had drawn the constellation of Pegasus – each ring a star.

Extending her hand, all the rings returned to her. Now, she began to form Orion.

Genocide.

She spied a red bow on the bookshelf, placed there by some unknown stroke of fate. The bow had been generated based on a set of 11 pictures which Samson Song kept until Matrioshka’s birth. The pictures were taken from various times from different point in the room. About 11.8% of the room was missing from those photos, and Matrioshka decided to leave the unknown portions as a black teeming void.

Considering the bow once more, Matrioshka invited Makoe into the room.

Her chief engineer materialized standing, next to one of the voids of the unknown.

“Captain?” Makoe asked, looking around. She approached a window and looked outside. Her eyes widened when she looked up, into the sky of the 21st century Terra.

“Is that Luna? Is that Terra’s moon?” Makoe asked.

Matrioshka nodded, returned her rings once more, and began to draw the constellation of Draco. Makoe’s gaze was torn back towards her captain. “Something is bothering you.”

Makoe let the unspoken question hang in the air. She approached Matrioshka’s beanbag and nudged her to make space.

After both women sat, Makoe noted the scarred and cut wall, marked by the repeated assault of Matrioshka’s idle thoughts – weaponized through her rings. Makoe set a hand atop Matrioshka’s, just as the head of Draco struck the wall.

Matrioshka sighed. “The King of the Miriani wants to commit genocide. Kill all the Disgraced. Millions.”

Makoe’s hand turned firm, holding Matrioshka’s. “Why?” she asked.

“He thinks that- some seers told him there will be a drought. So, the Disgraced kingdoms will rebel.”

Makoe nodded. “Our scans do suggest decrepit water security in all but the top 5 kingdoms. It would be reasonable to assume that this could become a stressor for rebellion.”

“I get the logic.” Matrioshka said. “I fucking get it.”

Matrioshka clenched her teeth, and Makoe said: “Even one million dead would invoke the Sanctuary clause. We are forced to intervene. We will save them.”

Matrioshka’s gaze turned cruel – towards Makoe or herself she couldn’t tell. She said: “I know Imperial law. I was there when it was written.”

Makoe’s touch held firm. ”Then… What is on your mind, captain?”

“The stars warned them about us. Painted us as demons. And given the deep reverence both the King and the High-Cardinal have shown towards the Suns. I doubt I will be able to do much mass persuasion. Okay. That’s fine.”

Matrioshka continued: “I will use subterfuge, yes? Or perhaps replace the King – put him to sleep while I copy his body?”

Makoe nodded. “Could work.”

“It will work. But then, the start of Imperial-Miriani relation will be by way of subjugation. What happens 10 years from now, when my actions get revealed.”

Makoe nodded. “The Disgraced will hail you as a hero.”

“Sure. And of the others? The immense displeasure they feel towards those Miriani they deem lesser - It will transfer to the Imperium. We, an outside force, described as demons by their Suns, took over their king. Like a puppet.”

Makoe looked confused, Matrioshka saw her lattice spike with activity. “I understand what you are saying. But that is in the future. Plus, the Imperium can offer immortality, opulence. Do you think the upper Kingdoms will care?”

Slowly, Matrioshka turned her head towards Makoe.

“Do you know why the Imperium managed to upload Ankraha’s population without issue?”

Makoe shook her head.

“Because the Ankrahi hadn’t yet developed the capacity for inter-generational hate. They were cave people. And do you know how it looked like for humans?”

“I know a little…” Makoe said, her gaze sad.

“Yup. We called it Ascension back then – the process with which you can be become a fully simulated being, like the entire Imperium is today. Here are some of the things that happened when this technology became public;”

Matrioshka started to list out:

“The United Inner Worlds bombed Skyshar off the skies of Venus – it had been a pirate stronghold. Can’t give immortality to killers, right? Fine. I can imagine some good arguments for that, but I doubt all those pirates were alone in that city. What of their families?”

“The Martian Republic stopped supplying aid to some of their colonies, instead focusing all their resources to ascend their people. Orcus was one of these. Many thousands died from hunger, lack of water.”

“The Lunar Technocracy. The fucking Lunar Technocracy… forced Ascension onto its populace. Covert task forces invaded homes – pushed millions out of their bodies and into a simulation.”

“The Confederacy of the Outer World’s introduced a penalty for all who refused Ascension. Bickering with one another, all the moons of the outer planets declared independence. Easy pickings for Mars and the Inner Worlds. Millions dead once more.”

Matrioshka finished with: “Ankraha being underdeveloped was a damn miracle. But the Miriani, had they not killed each other, they might have been the superiors of humans. And now, we will begin inter-species interaction by me taking over their highest authority figure.”

Makoe tilted her head. “The authority figure which plans a genocide…”

“Yes. And a figure that, if ascendant, will hold significant sway over a large population of young minds – the Miriani.”

Makoe finally understood, her eyes widened. “You don’t think… that the Imperator would refuse to ascend the Miriani? From fear of instability?”

Matrioshka nodded.

“That… Is not possible. Surely the Imperator would find a way. It is near omniscient.”

Matrioshka shook her head: “You know it less than I. The Imperator is not without fault.”

Makoe blinked, her brow curling: “What will you do then?”

Matrioshka sighed. “What else? I will be a damn invader, cloaked with the Sanctuary Act – under no circumstances, is any mind of the Imperium allowed to witness the death of 1% of a sentient species and do nothing. I am forced to intervene.”

Matrioshka’s lattice was at capacity, and now the simulation of her father’s room – hosted on her lattice next to her mind - began to degrade. The books flew off the shelf one by one – vanishing to accommodate Matrioshka’s expanding mind. The wall repaired itself – the constellations were nonessential data.

The posters on the wall became smaller, reducing their resolution. The stars outside the window vanished, the moon became a two-dimensional texture. As Matrioshka's teeth clenched, she felt her jaw ache, and then a softness on her lips.

Makoe had floated in front of her, had grabbed her cheeks, and placed a tender kiss on her captain's mouth. Matrioshka’s lattice stilled – brought back into singular focus, a tactile touch of softness, the scent and taste of crêpes.

The kiss lasted for 5 seconds. The room had calmed. Matrioshka’s lattice reduced to a comfortable 1% activity.

Matrioshka inhaled a jagged breath. “I am your captain. I hold power over you. If the Subdirector were to find out-”

Makoe rolled her eyes and kissed her captain again. Her hands twirled Matrioshka's pigtail, and the other outlined her ear. Makoe broke the kiss and said:

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

“You think too much. I am merely grounding you.”

Matrioshka had to manually reduce her levels of blush; her cheeks had become too hot. “Consider me grounded.”

“Great!” said Makoe and turned to some outside input.

Matrioshka saw her note the return of Temri, Rui, and Dokai – back in the cavern where Makoe’s body meditated. Makoe said: “I must go.”

Matrioshka nodded, and as Makoe removed herself from the simulation, Matrioshka stood motionless on the beanbag. Her hands touched her lips, the taste of crêpe ever-present.

Makoe listened as Iysik jumped over to Temri. “What’s up? You’re back quick…” he said.

“Wasn’t there. The damn stash wasn’t there.” said Temri, anxiety flourishing within her.

Dokai added: “All moved away. They knew we were coming.”

“How?” asked Iysik, before his eyes widened and he looked to Makoe, meditating on the pillar.

Temri scoffed. “You watched her, didn’t you? Did she contact anyone?”

“No.” Iysik said, returning to his pillow. “She’s been motionless. I think she is meditating for real.”

“Huh.” Said Rui, and climbed onto Makoe’s pillar with agility. She peeked at Makoe's face, peaceful in its nanite-driven concentration. She waved a hand in front of it.

Matrioshka saw Makoe laugh to herself and lunge with her hand – grabbing Rui’s.

The younger Miriani yelped. “Ah!”

Makoe smiled. “Can I help you Rui?”

“Ah!” Rui screamed again. “Sorry I thought you might have fallen asleep!”

Makoe let her go, and Rui scampered down and onto a pillow. Makoe saw Temri consider her and say; “Hey Mraah?”

Makoe jumped down, landed soundlessly and said: “Yes?”

The group exchanged glances at Makoe’s effortless fall of 8 meters, and Temri said: “You want in on what we are doing, then come with. You and me have a job.”

Makoe grinned. “Let’s go.”

Temri and Makoe emerged into the streets of the underground Erdon some 15 minutes later. They were some ten kilometres north of Rhea’s position. Temri pointed to a building from beneath a hem cloak. They each stole from a passing cart.

“There.” said Temri. “Luken lives there. An informant of mine. He will tell us where the stash has been moved to.”

Makoe looked into the carved building, inside she scanned two people; an aging man carving a sculpture from wood, and a much younger man on the floor below him, cooking dinner.

“Stash of what?” asked Makoe.

“Family product. They were forced to sell less this season, as the King has increased the watch. A nice amount had accumulated.”

“We will steal the product? Sell it ourselves?”

Temri’s ears scrounged. “I get that you’re strong, but how will the two of us carry tons of drugs undetected? No.” Temri grinned. “We shall burn it all.” She produced a hook and rope, coiled around her waist, and considered the informant's home.

Makoe supplied: “He is on the top floor.”

Temri’s ear twitched. “And you know this how?”

Makoe tried to produce a believable lie, and coming up empty, she said: “Intuition of the trade. You know how it is… Sometimes you feel the score.”

Temri seemed to accept this as scripture. “Aye. Aye, I get that.” she peered at the street between them and the informant. A dozen or so Miriani, all with ties to the Family, lounged about. Temri grinned: “How about one of those distractions you are famous for, Mraah?”

Makoe grinned back. “Consider it done.” She sped past Temri and jumped into a barrel with alacrity akin to a lightning bolt across the surface of the Duchess. She turned the barrel over and used the slight incline of the street as an excuse to roll over and start rolling downhill. Through a small hole in the barrel, Makoe extended her nanites, providing more direct contact with the ground – increasing her velocity.

A Miriani man had noticed the rogue barrel and ran to stop it. He yelled, mostly jokingly: “Oi! We got a workplace hazard up in here! Who did this?”

The barrel tumbled, scraping against the stone; it was loud now that all the Miriani turned their attention towards it. Many laughed at the man’s question, who just managed to sense something was off.

He managed to run into the path of the barrel, his arms held before him – braced to stop Makoe’s descent. He sensed something was off. “Oi... This ain’t loaded with stone, is it?” He looked towards a man he was with, who shrugged.

The barrel ran over a small pebble – the pebble flew away with the force only a heavy, nanite-driven barrel can.

“Giant’s mercy…” the man said, as Makoe collided with him. She had reduced speed and force at the last moment, sufficient to bruise but not cause permanent harm. The man was on a trajectory that would land him atop a merchant’s cart full of dried fruit, grape-kiwis.

Makoe ended her spectacle by crashing into a wooden window of an abandoned and rundown shop. By the scattered furniture and metal utensils – it must have been some form of eatery up until two years ago.

Makoe spread her nanites, like a hundred-tentacled octopus, and collected some rock and brick abound in the restaurant. She directed it all into the barrel and ducked out of the room. Through air ducts, she slid towards the informant’s room.

On approach, she saw Temri had used the distraction well. She was standing atop the informant, who lay on the floor. Makoe opened the door and walked inside.

Temri rotated swiftly, dagger at the ready. The man below her whimpered.

“Mraah?” Temri asked, wide-eyed.

Makoe nodded. “Yup. Its me.”

“Great distraction, but how did you get here?”

Makoe approached the two Miriani. The man was moments away from finishing a sculpture of a Miriani woman, from Rhea’s records, Matrioshka and Makoe both concluded it was the shape of Omrica, the Family matron.

“Secrets of the trade.” explained Makoe.

Temri must have a limit to bullshit, but it was evidently not yet reached. She said: “Right… Luken here was just telling me where they moved the product.”

The man gulped. “I- I told you already.”

Temri placed the dagger near the man’s throat. “Nope. Been there - product wasn’t there.”

Luken’s eyes widened, then he stroked his beard. “Maybe try the old barber’s shop down on Second street? In Tyebrook! Wasn’t used since, well, you know, your father-”

“Not a single word more.” warned Temri, pushing the dagger closer. “Barbers on Second. Got it. Let’s go Mraah.”

Makoe smiled at Temri and said to Luken: “Nice sculpture. You are going a bit hard on the face though. Be gentler – as it currently stands, the friction deforms the outer layers of the wood – induces straining. You wouldn't want the woman's wife to appear older than it really is, right?”

The man paled. “That’s why she had me make a new one!?”

Makoe winked as she followed Temri out of the room. Temri said: “Mind showing me how you got here?”

Makoe’s lattice spiked, and she detached a couple of nanites covertly.

Moments later, Makoe and Temri stood before a circular opening on the ground floor. The man who was cooking dinner had left to check the commotion outside.

Temri considered the 1.3 meters deep hole, cut from solid stone, which led into a small street beyond. “This?” she pointed to the hole.

“Yes?” asked Makoe, just as the nanites deposited the stone cutout below the table in the kitchen and returned to Makoe’s body.

“This was just here?” clarified Temri.

Makoe clasped her hands. “Yup. Security issue if you ask me.”

Temri considered her, cocking her head, brain filled with wonder, confusion, and a touch of endearment. “Alright. I really don’t know what to make of you… Let’s return to the cavern.”

As this operation was going on, Matrioshka finally managed to wrestle her thoughts away from Makoe’s lips and onto the situation at hand.

Technically I am now an officer of the Subdirectory of Sanctuary.

The King’s declaration of intent, of genocide, invoked a change in Matrioshka. Her priority now was to ensure no such plan gets carried out. She would have to replace the King, but she decided on communication first.

She entered her attention into a small bug, maybe 2 centimetres across and shaped like a disk, no flight capabilities, but the ability to mimic its surroundings. The nanites could emit light, so mimicry came naturally to them.

The bug followed the King and the Cardinal, who went their separate ways when they reached the underground palace. The Cardinal seemed overjoyed at the prospect of cleansing the Disgraced, as did, in fact, several guards and apostles – only excluding Rumel.

The King reached his rooms once again and dismissed his guard. Rumel stayed behind and asked the King: “When do we set sail?”

“Three days from now,” The King declared. “Tell General Krah to muster our forces. We will begin the cleanse here, then move in counter-clockwise order. We have two Disgraced in the Royal Guard, do we not? And three as part of the help. We can start with them immediately.”

Rumel’s heart skipped a beat. “You… You’re joking, my King.”

The King was all out of jest; he turned to his uncle. “I do not.”

Rumel swallowed. “Yes. My King.”

“Oh and, I have an announcement of dire importance. Assemble my family and the entire guard. In 30 minutes, main dining hall.”

Rumel bowed. “It will be done.” And turned away, teeth clenched. Once he was out of the King’s earshot, he started running.

Matrioshka’s insectile agent followed Rumel. Perhaps he could be an avenue of approach. Matrioshka sent more nanites to follow Rumel; they formed an assortment of animals and small insects, some burrowed, some flew – but all converged on the running guard.

The king’s uncle was turning a corned; a maid got spooked and almost dropped a vase. “Sorry!” Rumel yelled. Soon he reached a post where Nehri and another guard stood. He dismissed the man, and approached Nehri with a whisper:

“You know the Disgraced employed by the palace?”

Nehri noticed the worry in her lover’s gaze. “Yes?”

“Collect them, lead them out of the palace through the east waterways. They are dry now; you can walk inside them.”

“What is going on?” Nehri asked, taking Rumel’s hand. Nehri was on the short side, so she had to stand on her toes as she planted a kiss on Rumel’s cheek.

“The King. He has decided a remove the Disgraced.”

“Remove?” Nehri’s eyes were wide, ears curled.

Rumel met her eyes. “Kill. He plans to kill them all; the Suns gave their blessing.”

Nehri’s eyes flickered in fear, then turned to steel a moment later. “Understood. I will do as you said.”

Matrioshka’s nanites converged in an adjoining hallway. She formed Metri Olska’s body, the same that is currently meditating in her makeshift cell. She took a step forward, rounded the corner end entered Nehri’s vision.

Nehri nudged her man, who was lost in her eyes. She nudged him thrice more before he turned Matrioshka’s way.

His eyes widened. “How are you out?”

Demons, eh? Fine. With what your King is planning, I will be an angel by comparison.

“Come speak to me after you sleep. In 14 hours. Privately.” Matrioshka said, this time doing little to mask her otherworldly voice, it was firm and controlled – made by Miriani vocal cords but possessing a consuming presence. Rumbel and Nehri took a step back, drawing their blades.

Matrioshka’s body dissolved then, into insects, birds, and other small tunnelling creatures. With a puff of blackness, the nanite creatures scattered away, into the ground, the airducts, and the hallway – away from the two shaken guards.

Nehri asked: “What under the Giant’s shadow? What was that-”

Rumel’s eyes darted around, into the ground below him and an air duct to his right. He took a step back, pulling Nehri behind him. His heartbeat was heightened, an adrenaline-like substance coated his blood vessels.

He said: “You have your orders.”

Rumel was being brave. “I will speak to this… being. Save the Disgraced, Nehri.”

Nehri shook her head: “You plan to be alone with her? Now? She said you must wait.”

Rumel turned to her. “I will try to find her. This creature could be an even grander danger than the King’s stupidity.”

Nehri searched his eyes, and nodded. She ran to complete her task. And Rumel steadied himself; he walked towards Matrioshka’s holding cell, glancing anxiously at each air duct.

The nanites within Metri Olska’s body, back in the cell, liquified - flowing into the vents and burrowing into the ground. The older guard watching the room turned and yelled when he saw the space empty. Once Rumel arrived, he would conclude Matrioshka had escaped, and would launch a palace-wide search.

Matrioshka collected herself, and though how to best stage a coup.