106 PF

Continental Empire

Kingdom of Larnach

City of Larnach

Fort Anastasia

0700 hours

Austin found himself waking up in the early hours of the morning, having fallen asleep right in his office chair after accessing and reading the entirety of the Project Stargazer digital files. Compiled by none other than Allister Ford and framed in his repugnantly eloquent writing style, they detailed every stage of the project: acquisition of subjects, education, combat training, psychic therapy and implants (as outlined in the complimentary Project Constellation file), and finally the election of a worthy guardian.

The four children were a tightly-knit group, having lived in the same orphanage long before Allister ‘acquired’ them – the names they bore were indeed of their own invention. Orphans of the crisis, they had found comfort in the company of each other while shunning away from strangers. Mature and autonomous yet starved for affection, it was hard to say how much of their personalities were moulded by Ford’s training.

In regards to the role of guardian, McCarter prominently featured as the person chosen for that stage. The scientist had gathered and thoroughly analysed every bit of information available on the young General, finding him to be the perfect person to house the Stargazers after they were ‘completed’. This role was not just limited to supervision – the text was full of Allister’s musings regarding the potential effect of empathetic care and perhaps even outright love on the behaviour and combat effectiveness of the soldiers.

The conclusion was constructed from borderline psychopathic assumptions, but it was generally positive. Somehow, even he managed to understand the benefits of a good upbringing by a loving caretaker on the psyche of young children. Thus, Austin had full discretion in regards to acquainting the kids with the various joys of everyday life. With a fairly solid plan already brewing in his mind, he was ready to begin on that task today.

McCarter stood up, carefully stretching his body to counteract the consequences of resting in such an uncomfortable position. Blinking away the last vestiges of sleepiness, he then briefly reminisced on his past, considering how fit he would truly be to care for these children. He was an exceptional military prodigy – at least, that’s what everyone always told him – enlisting at barely adulthood and reaching his rank by the age of twenty-four. A protege of the Meister-General himself, Austin was a flexible, adaptive, and steadfast officer nurtured in the boiling bowels of an everchanging conflict, his fullest potential unlocked through years of hard work and absolute dedication.

On the other hand, neverending duty seldom left time for any relationships or even friendships. He knew being an impromptu lone ‘parent’ to four kids wouldn’t be easy by any conceivable metric, but he believed in his smarts, patience, perseverance, and the willingness to break Allister’s spinal cord if he so much as dared to intervene.

Leaving his office, Austin found the children already awake and bunched together on the living room’s couch, the TV running but left unused as they collectively investigated a book that he had left on the coffee table instead of returning it to the shelf in his office. He took a mental note of their interest in reading before gently calling their attention.

For a moment, they fought an instinctive urge to stand up and gather in a single file, and instead simply set down the book and turned their eyes towards him. Despite being individual people, it seemed that they were so used to being together that they often acted as a collective unit. Perhaps those psychic abilities enabled some sort of link between their minds?

Sitting down, McCarter told them of the plans he had for the day. Fort Anastasia was situated on the outskirts of the City of Larnach – the sprawling yet highly secure capital of Larnach and the Empire as a whole, bearing the name of the kingdom itself due to ages-old tradition – so he figured it was a good idea to give the children a taste of fresh air and indulgent shopping. As they would have their first mission the following night, he was determined to spoil them a little before he’d have to send them off to a deadly encounter.

He needed to get them better clothes than these dull uniforms, at least.

The kids struggled for a moment with the concept of being allowed to pick out and wear whatever outfits they wanted, but quickly agreed, beaming at the General all together. They were catching on quickly – Allister Ford’s ‘conditioning’ appeared to be not quite as strong as he made it out to be. Perhaps the scientist wasn’t used to techniques more subtle than total brainwashing, or maybe he was just losing his touch.

All the better for McCarter, anyway.

But where Ford might’ve faltered, he succeeded in other areas. Despite their adorable smiles and childish demeanour, Austin knew that the children were fully capable of cold-blooded murder… but perhaps not as willing. He wasn’t a fan of the rather extreme ‘Sparkwielders are inhuman’ mentality that the government tended to propagate, and although he supposed the ruthless terrorists and murderers among them truly deserved to die, there was no telling how this spilt blood would influence the kids’ psyches in the future. None of them had a choice, and Austin would just have to do the best he could given the options.

Rearranging his luckily uncluttered work schedule, McCarter donned his casual clothes and led the children out into the open, their black uniforms just barely unremarkable enough not to attract excess attention. This was far from the first of his off-duty excursions into the bustling city life, the habit of which was somewhat of an open secret among the staff of Fort Anastasia.

Staying covert wouldn’t be difficult for him – while his name and accomplishments were highly publicised, his appearance was usually hidden from the eye of mass media. Austin didn’t look like an army officer one way or another, let alone a General. Being far too young in appearance for anyone to assume that of him, he was quite skilled at the subtle art of blending in with the crowd.

It wasn’t long before Austin was moving down the road on foot – advancing at a pace that most would consider regular walking but what for him was a brisk jog – the children following him in an awkward lockstep march that gradually morphed into a more casual walking style. He headed towards the one place that any person in the capital always went to when they wanted to buy something – the Royal Palace, an enormous building retaining its historical grandness only in name, having been practically reduced to rubble six years ago in a coordinated assault by four Wildfire-class Sparkwielders.

That catastrophic event had not only resulted in the deaths of the entire Larnachian royal family, but was also the breaking point in the escalation of the Sparkwielder crisis to open hostilities and the instatement of martial law. Over time, the ruins had been rebuilt into a bustling centre of commerce, modern trends trumping over ancient monarchical traditions.

Austin made his way to the Palace, making sure the children stayed close as he approached one of the building's entrances. It was in the shape of a wide arch that once held an elaborate portcullis but was now framed by a passive detection device that constantly scanned for excess energy signatures, easily capable of spotting the chaotic emissions of Sparkwielder souls among the crowds of people passing through it every day.

Such machines were placed all around the City as part of a gigantic interconnected security grid, built to ensure citizen safety forevermore, with soldiers always close by and ready to detain any intruders. While many of Larnach’s largest cities had effective anti-Sparkwielder measures, the capital was functionally an impregnable fortress to any superhuman criminal.

There were very few people passing through the arch thanks to it being the early hours of a workday, and so McCarter wasn’t particularly surprised when a pair of exoskeleton-wearing soldiers walked out of the small security booth by the side of the entrance, anti-materiel rifles at ready but with the safety still enabled. They evidently found the sight of a weirdly nondescript man followed by four young children in matching dark uniforms – and with metallic implants in the back of their heads, no less – to be suspicious enough to question him. Such vigilance was highly appreciated by the General, but he didn’t want to waste too much time on this procedure.

Using his best ‘I-outrank-you-a-dozen-times-over’ withering glare, Austin aroused the instinct of unconditional obedience within their minds before pulling out a little identification document from his pocket and handing it to one of them. With the police force of Larnach abolished years ago and replaced with specially trained military personnel, it was certainly much easier for the General to exercise his authority on any poor sod who tried to interrupt his little city vacations.

Still, it was worth the wait just for the incredibly amusing expressions on the soldier’s face as his widening eyes scanned the innocent-looking booklet and for the hushed giggling that the whole scene evoked from the kids. The other one leaned over his shoulder, going through an almost identical process as she tried to comprehend the implications of what the document was saying. One short trip to the security booth to run a check through the database later, the guards had irrefutable evidence that the strange man in front of them was none other than Director-General McCarter in the flesh.

“I trust this little encounter will remain between us, yes?” asked Austin, piercing the silence with the intonation of somebody who won’t take anything less than ‘yes, sir’ for an answer.

“O-of course, s-sir, m-move along, sir,” they stuttered in hesitant, discordant unison, one of them handing back the small document that held more than enough identification codes to fully confirm the General’s identity to any whom it may have concerned. He casually strolled past them, privately savouring the dumbfounded looks on their faces. It wasn’t often that he got to enjoy such a scenario, the lack of a child assassin squad tailing him usually ensuring his inconspicuousness.

“Woah,” suddenly said Gold, the boy’s voice brimming with amazement and adoration, “you really showed those soldiers who’s boss!”

“Do these people always listen to you like that?” asked Lime, clearly curious.

“Oh, well, they usually do,” replied McCarter. “It’s a matter of respect, not just authority.”

“Does authority give respect?” inquired Navy after a moment of contemplation.

“No, not necessarily. Those are separate things, and it takes a lot of effort to have both.”

The group entered the mind-bogglingly spacious main hall of the Palace and quickly made their way to one of the clothing shops. They all split up to explore the selection of items while Austin gathered a generous supply of general-purpose child wear. If there’s one thing he was good at, it was planning ahead.

The kids took some time running around the seemingly endless halls of the shop, carefully picking out wallet-draining clothes. After the successful disembowelment of McCarter’s personal budget, the kids looked immensely happy with their new looks.

Rose and Lime both picked out matching turtleneck sweaters of scarlet and grass colours respectively; Navy chose a quaint yet comfortable dress shirt of deep blue; and Gold was content with a baggy yolk-tone hoodie. Their colour preferences were very apparent, matching their self-chosen names. Additionally, all of these items conveniently obscured their implants, those horrific metallic grafts no longer visible.

The General did not really mind having his coffers robbed by the grubby cold hands of clothing brands – his ascetic nature meant he seldom bought anything beyond the essentials, and so he ended up sitting on a small but relatively excessive financial hoard. He rarely remembered that it even existed, and, if needed, would sink it all back into the military without a second thought.

It was worth it for the kids, either way.

McCarter did not waste any time before escaping the City centre, taking the children to a certain place he had been frequenting quite often – a pleasant little cafe that brought in company most civilized and served food most unextravagant. Being utterly jaded at the grand old age of twenty-four, he found enjoyment in the simple things.

His feet drummed a well-known path across the streets, and he soon found himself in front of a charmingly quiet building nestled in-between its much busier neighbours. He took a moment to breathe in the idyllically peaceful atmosphere it exuded before entering the cafe’s main hall, no other customers being present at that moment. The place’s owner – a legally deaf old man with a kind face and the immensely rare ability to not ever ask unnecessary questions – nodded to Austin, barely even sparing a glance at the kids following suit.

They all sat down behind one of the large circular tables designed to get groups of people sitting together. Austin asked for a menu to help the children choose, and they soon agreed on a collective order of pancakes, with McCarter also receiving his usual cup of charmingly plain tea. As he watched them eat, a certain question came to his mind. While he knew practically all there was to know about Project Stargazer, there were things he wanted to inquire about anyway, just to gauge the kids’ personal opinions.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” he began, “what was your… schedule like, before?”

Gold tried to answer through a mouthful of pancake and failed miserably. Rose stepped in as usual, casually detailing every step of their former routine.

“Oh, nothing special. We always woke up early and went through morning exercise, just a bit of warm-up. Then we had a few hours of combat training, some psychic therapy, and finally… well, regular learning.”

“Training was intense, but very rewarding,” Navy joined in with a restrained but notably genuine spark of passion. “We pushed our bodies to the limit and kept getting stronger and faster.”

Allister Ford had somehow theorycrafted the exact exercise plan needed to turn ten year-old children into skilled fighters in a matter of months. The combat tactics heavily relied on their psychic abilities, but generally prioritized stealth, agility, teamwork, and precisely directed deadly force – a fairly obvious approach when you’re dealing with trainees that are practically half the size and weight of a regular soldier.

“I loved therapy,” said Gold with a strange fondness, “it was kinda weird and hurt a bit sometimes, but it gave us cool powers!”

The research into a human mind’s psychic potential was esoteric, mystical, and barely even a science, being mostly neglected in favour of significantly more useful fields, but it was none other than Allister Ford who dabbled in this area the most, turning out to be the only – or just the first – person deranged enough to apply these techniques to a child’s mind, slowly moulding it with the help of custom implants to allow for the manifestation of psychic abilities to a combat-effective degree. The side effects were quite obviously not taken into account, whatever they may be.

“Education is important too, isn’t it? Master Ford always told us that a true soldier must possess a studious mind,” recited Lime, the word ‘master’ now feeling rather clumsy on her tongue.

Prominently featured in the Project Stargazer files was a somewhat crunched version of the standard curriculum for children around their age. The fact that Allister Ford had actually bothered to give them a proper education almost made Austin doubt if the scientist was truly as heartless as he seemed. It was really nothing more than pragmatism, but the General was glad for it nonetheless.

More for fun than for any real purpose, he began quizzing them on various topics, from history to language to mathematics. Unsurprisingly, at least one of them always had the right answer, and they didn’t shy from discussing the question amongst themselves before giving a reply. In many areas, they were even slightly ahead of their age group.

The game continued right up until Austin heard the characteristic ring of a door chime. He spared a curious side glance at the person entering, but turned his entire head to face them once he recognized them.

It was none other than Colonel Viola Washington who caught his attention – the woman he knew for almost as long as he was in the military, being his most trusted friend and comrade. From a fellow frontline fighter to a decorated officer, he always knew her as a stoic beacon of strength, a tireless and dedicated soldier who showed no weakness or fear in face of any threat, one of the greatest to ever serve in the Larnachian military. She was sharp, composed, never letting her guard down, always ready to come up with an ingenious plan or strategy.

Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

At least, that was his rather overidealized mental image of her, which the current Viola wasn’t at all aiming to replicate. What he actually saw was a modest bespectacled woman with short dark hair, dressed in casual clothes and devoid of the authoritative air that usually followed her. She appeared so much like an ordinary civilian that Austin wouldn’t have even been able to recognize her if he hadn’t spent years hunting Sparkwielders alongside the woman.

Viola looked around, taking in the atmosphere and interior of the cafe before walking towards the table at which McCarter and the children were situated. She saw through his disguise even quicker than he had seen through hers.

“Hello, Austin,” she said with a respectful tone, though a hint of genuine affection was contained within. “I did not expect to see you here.”

“I could say the same to you, Viola,” he retorted without missing a beat, though he couldn’t deny that her appearance was a surprise of the pleasant kind.

“I am hungry,” she deadpanned. “You told me about this place once, have you not? I wanted to see what makes it special.”

There was no shortage of dining establishments in the City of Larnach catering to every conceivable whim, and yet Viola still went out of her way to visit this tiny unremarkable cafe that Austin mentioned to her many months ago. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of that fact.

“You really shouldn’t take food advice from someone who’s been eating nothing but military rations for half a decade,” he said with an even denser deadpan, winning a chuckle from her and laughter from the kids. He didn’t joke particularly often, but pleasant company often brought out the softer sides of his personality.

“We both know it is not about the food,” she noted, choosing to keep the smile that appeared on her face. “May I sit down with you?”

“Of course.”

The children murmured among themselves, somewhat apprehensive of the visitor even though Austin showed that he trusted her. Viola glanced at them with worry in her expression, recognizing them to be the products of Project Stargazer. What surprised her was their healthy complexion and lack of apparent modifications – she knew the work of Allister Ford to usually involve turning men into cybernetic abominations, indiscriminately grafting new limbs and implants and exoskeletons into the flesh then wiring it all up directly to the brain until the subject lost their mind from sheer mental overload.

She carefully observed them, making the wise decision not to disturb their very vulnerable comfort zones. Regardless of their origin or purpose, it would appear that McCarter has been treating them as the kids they are, being the perfect guardian for these poor souls. Washington was glad for it, but what truly made her happy was the fact that he looked brighter and livelier than she had ever seen him before.

As Viola and Austin began talking, the special bond they shared with each other became clearly visible. There was a comfortable synchrony in the way they chatted, asking and replying and joking and switching topics at a smooth, uninterrupted pace. They were on the exact same wavelength – two minds so familiar with each other that one could always guess, if not outright predict what the other was thinking.

In the ten or so minutes that passed by, the children gradually adjusted their perception of Viola. They could feel a sort of welcoming presence in her, a warm aura of grace and consideration. It was Gold that mustered up the courage to address the woman directly, and from there, the floodgates were open. Viola talked with the four kids, being gentle but showing no condescension, coaxing them out of their shells at a natural pace.

Through direct contact, the analytical side of Viola’s mind acquired a clearer understanding of what, precisely, these children were made of. They appeared to be ordinary ten-year-olds, and they were, but there was also a sharp awareness somewhere underneath, an element of uncanny cleverness – something that tried its hardest to serve as maturity even though it truly wasn’t.

After all, childhood was not inversely proportional to adulthood.

Not wanting to get carried away, Viola stored all these observations away for later. She had never exactly thought of herself as being good with children, but they seemed to like her, and she liked them too. She looked at these adorable kids, possessing so much purity and innocence despite everything, then looked at Austin, his tired face glowing with unfiltered happiness, seeing how they and he were practically made for each other…

…and she thought, “do I have any place in this?”

She carefully considered the thought, tasting the indulgent sugary sweetness of theoretical possibilities, weighing them against the oppressive, suffocating air of reality, and gently placed it down somewhere at the far edge of her mind. This, right now… it was enough. Deciding not to linger for too long, she soon bid goodbye to McCarter and the children. As she left the cafe, she realized that she wasn’t used to smiling so much.

There was little else worth smiling about anymore.

And thus, silence reigned over the tranquil cafe once more. Austin sipped his tea, paying close attention to the children’s talk and banter. It was overwhelmingly adorable, every single thing and experience being a new and fascinating moment in their previously dull and repetitive lives. Allister’s programme was not much better than the orphanage, to say the least.

They were well and truly happy now, and yet McCarter couldn’t help but dread what was to come in the future. He could barely imagine these innocent kids prowling around in the dead of night, wearing those terrifying coats, wielding those sharp blades, eliminating Sparkwielders with cruel precision. Even worse – what if they were to get wounded? Captured? Killed?! Austin couldn’t bear the thought of it. He already got immensely attached to these wonderful children – curse his young, sentimental heart – so if he were to lose them, to never be able to treasure each of their little smiles again…

Austin tethered himself back to reality with the final step of his plan – the Royal Park. A treasure trove of fresh air and tranquil sights, it was the only other place in the whole city that he considered to be worth visiting. After paying for the meal, he set out into the streets with the kids following close behind, determined to flee the noise and pollution.

For a moment, McCarter let himself be immersed in the ambient hum of the City. It was the same as always, yet so much different than before. The air felt dry and inhospitable, crackling with the barely noticeable buzz of multiple antimagical disruption fields. The people lived in peace and safety, yet there was a feeling of subtle oppression with every propaganda poster plastered on a wall and every armed soldier stationed in place of a police officer.

It was all an everpresent reminder of the war waged beyond the City, where security was fragile and where danger could easily slip through the cracks, where Sparkwielder attacks were common and casualties were inevitable. The biggest cities of the kingdom were islands of safety in a murky ocean of neverending threats, Sparkwielder groups travelling nomadically across the rural landscape – scurrying, hunting, raiding, sabotaging, hitting from the shadows and vanishing soon after, only a rapid response by elite mechanized shock squads capable of retaliating.

Larnach bled from a thousand wounds, yet it stood strong on the shoulders of the Meister-General, formerly Marshal of the grand Continental army, who coordinated and restructured the military to temper the guerrilla assault while directing many brilliant research divisions to create better weapons through Arelium technology and better soldiers through exoskeletal mechanics and cybernetics.

Prototypes, experiments, all so desperate and unreliable…

The General awoke from his deep contemplation with a shudder.

He was already standing in front of the Royal Park’s large ornate gates, practically a work of art on their own, a wondrous relic of better times. He shook off a few unpleasant old memories and stepped through, the children following as always.

As soon as they passed through the gates and into the Park itself, they couldn’t help but marvel at its natural beauty. Trees and flowers and birds and critters – everything one could possibly expect from such a place was there, and it was all the more wondrous just by being so abundant. It possessed an omnipresent atmosphere of calm and peace that enchanted any visitor with its homely aura.

During a pleasant and relaxing stroll through the grounds, the children discovered something that was seemingly unremarkable but held immense potential for those who could utilize it to the fullest – a playground. All four of the kids approached it of their own accord, carefully investigating everything it had to offer. What came next was art.

McCarter observed with nothing short of pure amazement as the children pulled off a series of stunningly breathtaking stunts and tricks with casual ease. Somersaults and cartwheels were among the least impressive of their moves. The General had a feeling that this ‘play’ was putting some of Larnach’s greatest athletes to shame.

The playground was designed for regular kids and teens to have fun with and perhaps do some basic exercise; it certainly never expected the attention of masterful acrobats. Nonetheless, these ladders and bars and ropes and poles were basic enough to allow for indulgent improvisation.

A small crowd attempted to materialize in response to this impromptu show, but any wannabe spectators were immediately shooed off. The most curious of the bunch were subjected to Austin’s trademark glare, repurposed to intimidate civvies. He could easily act menacing whenever it was needed.

The kids were eventually satisfied with their intense exercise and abruptly stopped, mildly exhilarated yet utterly joyful. Austin had been standing nearby the entire time, watching the show with a combination of wide-eyed fascination and pragmatic interest. The children approached and quietly stood in front of him, as if… expecting something.

“Oh,” he said, a tad dejected, once he realized what they wanted from him. “I see. You want my opinion, don’t you?”

The more the kids became conscious of the situation, the stranger it seemed to them.

“Uh, well, yeah?” Gold said timidly. “It’s… what usually happens when we do something cool.”

“That’s not necessary,” carefully notes McCarter. “This wasn’t some kind of test or task. You just had fun of your own accord, didn’t you?”

“We did,” confirmed Rose. “It was really exciting! But, still…”

“Fine then,” said McCarter with a light-hearted sigh, “here’s what I can say – that was a fantastic display of physical prowess, from all of you.”

They were expectedly quite excited at that judgement, although it didn’t have as much of an effect as Allister’s seldom given words.

“I get that being praised feels good,” he continued, “but if you think you did well, that’s all the affirmation you need.”

The children took some time to process this information, only interrupted when a critter of sorts ruffled the nearby bushes. Navy was so deep in contemplation, as if analysing past events to try and come to a conclusion, that his head snapped reflexively to the source of the sound, with his entire body freezing up halfway to a fighting stance before the rest of his consciousness caught up to his instincts.

A red fox momentarily poked its head out of the foliage, ears perked up. In a precious moment of childlike wonder, Austin and the kids all marvelled quietly at this adorable creature. It was an honoured animal in the Kingdom of Fostai, though the humble fox, of course, did not know that. A second later, it sneezed and sprinted off into the unknown.

“I see now,” suddenly spoke up Navy once he shook off the initial surprise, eyes gazing off somewhere into the distance while he stroked his chin and tapped his foot. “Master Ford was not kind to us very often, and we always wanted to impress him. But… Austin… you are different.” The boy struggled for a moment to call the General by his first name instead of some title or honorific. His words were slow and measured, like swings of a heavy pendulum. “You are always so nice and kind… for no actual reason. This is… new. It’s strange, but it’s also…”

Navy glanced at the other children. They nodded.

“It’s better. Very much better. What you told us yesterday… it’s starting to make more sense now, I think.”

“Of course it does,” replied Austin, so incredibly touched that he struggled to keep himself calm. He could always handle the harsh pressure of battle, but it was the soft and gentle type of feeling that easily broke his composure. “There is a reason for it, just not necessarily a… practical one. Look, I might be your commander, but I’m not your master or anything. You can just think of me as a…”

A certain word lingered on the tip of the General’s tongue. It was so sweet and desirable, but… it was far too early for it. So he discarded it, and went for something lighter.

“A friend,” he finished.

The children murmured for a bit, but instead of Rose stepping out to deliver the verdict, they coordinated a common response. Looking up at McCarter all together, colour in their clothes and life in their faces, they said in unison:

“Okay!”

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

They soon set out once again, continuing their slow and relaxing walk around the park grounds, going through various bendy little footpaths until they arrived at a quiet clearing. It housed an old memorial erected in the very first year of the Sparkwielder crisis, with hundreds upon hundreds of names inscribed on the weathered stone monolith – a tribute to all the soldiers and citizens that were lost in the struggle against hostile superhumans.

It was one of several.

Austin approached the monolith, but didn’t look at it too closely for fear of recognizing any of the names. As he took one more step to lay a palm on the lukewarm stone, paying respects to it more out of instinct than conscious thought, his exhaustion finally caught up to him and his left leg didn’t quite obey the order.

He tripped and fell, but the children dashed forward to catch his helpless body just before he’d flop face-first onto the ground. They helped him up, led him to the nearest bench, and crowded around their guardian with concern clear on their faces.

“Ge– …Austin?” Rose asked tentatively, catching herself from including the title.

“What is it, Rose?” he replied, trying to sound as casual as possible while he steadied his breathing.

She opened her mouth, but then hesitated. She didn’t say anything, instead gazing at him with wide and inquisitive eyes that almost made him feel like he was being scanned. She then squinted for a moment, before literally putting her finger on the thing that’s been bothering her by pointing at his neck.

It didn’t take long for McCarter to realize what she was trying to highlight – a thin road of scar tissue poking out from under the collar of his shirt, part of a gnarly imprint left by an old wound. The child’s eyes locked with his own as her hand floated above the injury, slowly inching downward as if she could feel its presence and sense the lingering damage held within the extensive scarring, from the neck right down to the thigh.

“You were hurt,” she said like stating a fact, with unblinking eyes and a quiet voice, “hurt really bad, weren’t you? You walk so slow and you limp a bit in your left leg and you always take deep breaths.”

“I… yeah,” he whispered back, too amazed by her attention to detail and too struck by her bluntness to deny or avoid the topic. “Got hit by a nasty bit of magic some years back. I was never really in good shape after that.”

By this point in his life, he was barely aware of the way his left arm stuck close to his body while the other swung around and how he always put a bit too much pressure on his right leg just to shift the weight away from the left, but of course it would be the psychic child soldiers that took note of all those minute movements.

Rose’s expression slowly shifted out of whatever trance she had put herself into. Sadness and sympathy were clear on her face. All she knew was that Austin had been hurt and was still hurting, and this knowledge simply made her feel awful. In that moment he looked dejected and forlorn, staring into the ground, unpleasant memories involuntarily worming their way into his mind.

“Austin… are you okay?”

He looked up at her. That tone of sheer empathy in her voice, those soul-piercing eyes with which she looked into his – it made him speak the harsh truth.

“No.”

The monolith, the names, the deaths, each a tiny tombstone in a granite graveyard, each a tragedy, a necessity, a reminder. Of blood and grit, of dust and flames. Of the burning palace, of the dead monarchs, of war. Of a desolate farmhouse, of Viola, of a Pyre, of a wound that would never heal.

Austin shivered. Sometimes he could still feel the cold grasp of the clunky damaged exoskeleton on his body, the weight of the messy prototype railgun in his hands. Sometimes it paralyzed him and he had to remind himself that he didn’t need to struggle desperately against a cage of malfunctioning mechanisms to move his limbs.

Austin McCarter. An enlistee, a soldier, an officer, a General.

A cripple.

An orphan.

The rustle of leaves in the gentle midsummer wind, the singing of many beautiful birds, the distant muffled orchestra of urban noise – all those sounds paled in comparison to what felt like the thunderous roar of a single tear falling down Austin’s eye and crashing into the ground.

And at that very moment, Rose chose to listen to her heart. Without wasting even a moment on doubts or second-guessing, she stepped forward, spread her arms as wide as she could, and promptly rammed herself into the only man in this world who has ever brought her true happiness.

Austin’s mind was suddenly yanked back to the forefront of reality, the dreamlike manifestation of bleeding old wounds evaporating in an instant once he realized that he was being hugged. Little redheaded Rose was wrapped tightly around him, probably overdoing it a tad but still delivering the needed result.

“W-what are you doing?..” he blurted out from sheer surprise.

“Hugging you,” came the deadpan answer from Rose. “That’s what people do when someone is sad, right?”

“Y-yes… yes, it is…”

The other kids were brought out of their stupor and followed the leader’s example, using some rather excessive manoeuvres to achieve the optimal four-on-one embrace.

“Group hu-u-u-g~,” helpfully supplied Gold with an elated giggle. “I always wanted to try this out!..”

“It’s okay, Austin, it’s alright,” comfortingly added Lime.

“We are here for you,” finished Navy with a deeply fond tone of voice. “Now… and always.”

McCarter could feel tears welling up in his eyes again, yet they now carried an entirely different flavour – one not of sorrow, but of joy. Several years’ worth of repressed emotions in the General’s soul began shifting and crumbling at the hands of four children who had retained their innate innocence and kindness even in the diabolical circumstances of their unfortunate lives. He couldn’t help but cry as he hugged them all back, his heart bursting at the seams from all the unconditional love he felt in that moment.

And perhaps he wasn’t so afraid of the names on the monolith anymore.

Then the trav'ller in the dark

Thanks you for your tiny spark

He could not see which way to go

If you did not twinkle so