~February 20th, 140 AH~

~Joint Base Akra, Kurator HQ, Terminal One~

As Asena reclined into the workstation for what she hoped was the last time, she reflected on the choices that had led her here.

What was the last fork on the road that had set her on this irreversible path?

Was it just hours ago, when she cowered under the predator’s gaze, and doused the fire of her rebellion in a sea of doubt? Or was it back on Martyr’s Day, when she faced the prospect of letting Yuito resume his treatment of Zelen, and couldn’t bear the thought of losing them both?

Perhaps even earlier than that. Much earlier. Was it when she communed with the Nexus for the first time at the age of ten, and received the unique whispers that sealed her fate? Was it when, as an eight-year-old girl who would still seek out her mother after a bad dream, she’d been used as a pawn in her family’s political manoeuvrings?

Perhaps there’d been no fork at all. Perhaps the path had been set for her the moment she’d been born a Shiranui, and no amount of self-styled idealism nor truth-seeking could unshackle her from the weight of history.

And, perhaps still, all this was a comforting lie with which to forgive herself her shortcomings: powerless to right all the wrongs she saw, often even unable to tell right from wrong.

Too many questions and vexations, with none in the way of answers nor solutions. Presently, however, the only person she could talk to was her father who, even as he fumbled with the lines and equipment to ready the session, looked to be even more lost than Asena herself.

“As the General explained earlier,” he pressed on with the briefing, voice hoarse and eyes downcast, “the subject has been loaded onto his Eidolon, in a secure location away from base. The hope is that, should you succeed in restoring his attunement in full, the effect will be immediately observable. And there are several other Reiters on standby, in case…”

Yuito trailed off, then added, “Suffice to say, everything has been set up for you to [EVOKE] however you see fit. The General… will deal with any and all potential fallout.”

With lines hooked up and restraints tightened, Yuito reached for the headset. As he made to lower it onto Asena, however, their eyes met, and his hands stopped.

“Have you never stopped to wonder, Father,” Asena asked, voice far steadier than Yuito’s, “if there hadn’t been another way? If our ancestor was the one to establish the practice of Reiter-Spiegel Tethering, perhaps we Shiranuis should’ve also been the ones to actively explore an alternative. A more… humane way to fight the war.”

Yuito’s haunted expression shifted slightly, enough to show the hint of a wry smile. He murmured, “A ‘humane war’, you say? That is an oxymoron if I’ve ever heard one. You’re pragmatic enough to know that someone has to suffer in order for us to win this war. If not the Spiegels, then it’ll be the Reiters. And if not the Reiters, then… it’ll be someone else.”

As if the Reiters don’t already suffer enough. Asena persisted, “Then we should keep looking. Keep working. Until we find a way, if not to end, then to at least ease the suffering.”

Yuito sighed. Deeply and wearily. His was the sigh of a man who’d asked and confronted all the same questions and vexations—and come to the same answers and solutions.

“The way for us to end the suffering, Asena,” he said quietly, barely above a whisper, “is to end the war.”

Asena looked away, and sank deeper into her seat.

The headset in Yuito’s hands remained frozen in the air, however, and something of the Colonel’s usual frown returned as he spoke again, “It’s not too late, Asena.”

“What isn’t too late?” she asked without meeting his eyes.

“For me to take over.”

She turned back to her father sharply, and let her sudden scowl speak for her.

“It’s just the two of us inside this room,” Yuito went on. “We could switch, and the General would be none the wiser until… until it’s done.”

“But… why? Why would you—”

“Because I’m afraid for you.”

Asena did her father the courtesy of holding his gaze, until she saw his deadened eyes glisten. As far as she knew, this was the closest he’d ever come to shedding a tear, and she was surprised to feel a lump in her own throat.

“What are you afraid of?”

“Of what you might find in the darkest, most harrowing moment of Zelen Athelstan’s life. Of how that might change you irrevocably, as much as it did him.”

“Do you mean to suggest what I’ve seen so far haven’t been dark and harrowing enough?”

“You know what I mean, Asena…”

A tear did fall out then, streaking along the lines and grooves upon Yuito’s haggard face. The lump in Asena’s throat grew, but she swallowed it and set her own face in stone before she gave her reply.

“If you think I haven’t already been irrevocably changed, you haven’t been paying attention. Besides, what if you [REWIRE] Zelen, and it does nothing for his combat readiness? What then? Are you just going to keep trying, hoping for a miracle before you lose your own mind to the Nexus? There’s absolutely no evidence to suggest that [REWIRING] could restore a Reiter’s lost attunement, whereas I’ve managed to get a foot in the door.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

“No, Father. Right now, we have no choice but to finish what we’ve started. There might’ve been a time where I would’ve considered your offer, but that ship has sailed, for better or for worse. Right now… I need to see this through myself.”

Yuito’s single tear had already dried. All that remained now was the misery of a Kurator who’d led a faultless and exemplary career—of a father who’d failed his daughter. The Colonel spoke no more as he finally lowered and secured the headset.

Yet, even as darkness descended, Asena’s pre-session briefing wasn’t finished.

“Are we ready to start now, Corporal? What took you so long?”

Even through the radio, Asena could see Fenix Duodecim’s giddy smile, clear enough for her throat to fill with bile. She forced herself to push it down, just as she did earlier with sympathy for her father.

“I trust you and your father weren’t planning a coup or anything. Or, if you were, I hope you have the decency to wait until I have my favourite Reiter back before you put it into action.”

“If you have something to say, say it.”

“Yes, ma’am. Just popping in to remind you that, while the subject is currently sedated, there’s no telling how cranky he’ll be when he wakes up. I’ve been told he put up quite a fight before the Gaertners managed to shove a needle in him. In other words, this session won’t be the usual lovefest you’ve come to expect. I do, however, have faith in your ability to adapt and overcome.”

“I’ll do what needs to be done,” Asena said flatly, betraying none of the turbulence within her heart, “as long as you hold up your end of the bargain.”

“Rest assured, Corporal. You will have that in-person meeting you requested, guaranteed. It’s not exactly my idea of a date, but who am I to judge, eh? I’m sure you youngsters have it all figured out.”

The headset’s sensory deprivation only intensified the taste of bile. Asena didn’t trust herself to speak.

“Alrighty then, let’s get this show on the road, shall we? Unless you still had questions for me?”

Despite her simmering anger, Asena managed to summon an image of Zelen, unconscious and wrapped inside a Nexa-Suit against his will. Then she pictured the amorphous nightmare she was about to put him—and herself—through. And for all her brave faces and icy words, she realized that one fear loomed largest above all others.

“How are you prepared to assist Zelen,” she gave word to the fear, “if he suffers another Psychic collapse because of this?”

She half-expected the General to evade the question with his trademark glibness, yet the response was prompt and direct.

“Oh, he’ll for sure throw his hissy fit, no ifs about it. If he didn’t, I’d be inclined to wonder if you even [EVOKED] the correct memory fragment. But if we can anticipate something, we can also plan for it, can’t we? We’re out here in bumfuck nowhere, yours truly included. And I made sure to bring a couple of Reiter boys that could take a beating if and when shit hits the fan.”

“I couldn’t care less what damages Zelen might cause to his surroundings,” Asena spat, and though she didn’t actually believe her own words, it felt good to say them to the General. “I’m concerned about Zelen himself. Does your plan include anything about halting his potential breakdown?”

“Can’t say it does,” came the reply, absent hesitation, “but that’s because that’s not my expertise. It’s yours.”

Asena held her breath.

“In the extremely likely event of Lieutenant Athelstan spiralling into Psychic collapse,” Fenix went on breezily, “I place my full confidence in your ability, Corporal Shiranui, to yank him out of it. Slap some sense into him if you have to. God knows the boy could use some tough love.”

“That doesn’t… Do you even know what you’re—”

“I say again, Corporal.” The General’s voice lost its airy tone in an instant as he reiterated and finalized his command—his ultimatum. “If and when Lieutenant Athelstan suffers another Psychic collapse, on a scale similar to or perhaps even more extensive than the one that landed him in this mess to begin with, I leave its de-escalation entirely in your capable hands. You’ll know what to do. You already have the solution. I’m sure of it.”

“Wait—”

But the voice on the other line cut out abruptly, along with the background static. And Asena knew that she was now alone. Alone with the darkness—and with the most difficult task in her short Kuratorial career.

Her throat had been kept busy over the last few minutes, assaulted by a series of different sensations. This time, it was her heart jumping to the back of her mouth, thumping as if to jostle her fraying nerves. This wouldn’t do. If she had any hope of guiding Zelen through this session, she first needed to get a hold of herself.

The Meridians are the branches upon which Life blooms.

The change to her mental state, though not total, was noticeable and instant. The image that floated into her mind now was of a young Reiter in the midst of a difficult mission, doing his utmost to rein in his runaway emotions, to stay present. As her breathing slowed and her heart settled back into her chest, Asena wondered if she might have more in common with her brothers and her fiancé than she gave herself credit for.

Then, all too soon, the radio crackled to life again, this time carrying with it a voice that at once filled her with the multitudes of a restless spirit: fear, love, sorrow, longing, and remorse.

“Silon?”

For all Fenix’s gleeful warnings, the man that woke to greet Asena clearly didn’t have any fight left in him. Zelen was solemn. Polite. Respectful. All the qualities that she’d come to expect from their chats.

Yet the General had also been right about one thing: there was no love. No affection in Zelen’s voice.

Asena stilled her beating heart, and let the greeting hang. Until—

“Hm, I think I know why you won’t respond.”

“And why’s that, Zelen?”

“You’re not Silon, are you?”

“No, I’m not.”

Darkness. Silence. Questions and vexations.

“If you’re not Silon, then who… Where is she? Let me speak to her. There’s something… there’s something I need to—”

“I’m afraid Spiegel Delta-Upsilon won’t be joining us anymore.”

Darkness. Silence. Answers and solutions.

“… Why?”

“Because she’s dead.”

The faintest of vibrations, but Asena didn’t miss it. She sifted through the web of a young Reiter’s tenuous history of self, until she found the thread. It was what awaited at the end of an irreversible path. It was the one point where all the forks, moments, and choices converged into one immovable nightmare.

The Kurator tugged at the thread, and gave her final prompt.

“Because you killed her, Zelen.”