I dismissed the option of power before I truly began deliberating. I had enough of that from my gauntlets and sword, and I didn’t expect that I’d be able to do any real damage with an extra twenty anyway. That left speed and resilience, both of which were being equally boosted by my boots and my helmet/shield respectively. The resilience would help me take hits better, but the speed might help me avoid the hit altogether.

Thinking about it further, I didn’t feel confident in surviving a single hit that didn’t involve a shit ton of fire. From what I’d seen so far, fire was the lesser half of the other Matria’s abilities, so I had maybe a fifty percent chance of resilience coming in useful. I looked down at Lavender and Scrap as I put the resilience and power potions into my inventory, then dismissed my helmet for a split second while the speed potion hit the back of my throat.

There weren’t any gasps or attacks that had come from that little risk. I twisted my foot on the molten scar and stretched my shoulders, the burning in my bones growing beyond discomfort and into the realm of constant pain. Like a stinging rash that only hurt worse when it was scratched, but growing far worse over time. The thought finally crossed my mind that just maybe I wouldn’t be in the best shape when my potions ran out, and that just maybe the fire in my bones wouldn’t just disappear.

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My brain hurt. The End’s message was just as fizzled as the rest of my interface, and it ground against the inside of my skull as if it was made of barbed wire and shrapnel.

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“Fucking hell.” I groaned, clutching my head and leaning to look straight at the ground. I could still see perfectly clearly and my stomach wasn’t threatening to void itself. It was only pain. Immense, terrible pain that added on to the fire in my bones like gasoline. “Please don’t do that again.”

A bright flash of red and orange drew my attention to my fizzled energy storage indicator, either warning me that I was getting dangerously close to my maximum or that I’d just passed a threshold. I took it to mean the latter, which meant that I was now fifty-percent full and that all of my individual armor pieces were powered up. Twelve and a half stat points and a ten percent resistance to fire and electricity from each of them. I hoped against hope that it would be enough.

I steeled my resolve and forced my burning bones towards where Nia was holding off the rest of the other Matria’s reinforcements. I gripped my sword so tightly that I felt the heat inside it clash with the heat of my gauntlets and bones, my shield held between us as I advanced.

A suit of armor that seemed to be formed from chunks of ice shot through with dirt and grass turned to me as my sword cut through their back left leg, yelping in surprise as I bashed them to the ground with my shield. Ice tried to creep up my shield, but the overwhelming heat inside of it ensured it wouldn’t take hold. My sword bit down through their spine, and they were no longer a problem.

I felt an abundance of eyes focus on me, and in that moment I realized just how far I’d moved in a handful of seconds. I still wasn’t to Nia, but I’d breached a perimeter of soldiers that weren’t moving in for one reason or another to help their Matria. I kicked a suit or purple armor in the knee, folding it in the wrong direction as the wearer screamed their throat out. I followed up with a bash from the hilt of my sword to their helmet as they crumbled. Their noises stopped.

“There wasn’t supposed to be anyone else!” A dull blue suit of armor with a spiraling pattern of tarnished gold screamed. Their voice was young. Younger than my own, even. They unlatched a bow that felt more dangerous than the rest of them did and warily pointed it at me, straining under the draw weight of an arrow that glimmered like raindrops in the sun. “Don’t come any closer. I know how to use this thing.”

To their credit, they didn’t back down. They also didn’t have a clue how to use their bow. I waited for their draw to flag for a moment, then ducked my head under my shield and rushed in. I felt the crash of an arrow with far too little strength behind it against my shield, then the impact and yelp of dull blue against it. I stepped back and let dull blue fall to the ground, then surged forward and stomped down with all my might in the middle of their chest.

They babbled and whimpered as they looked down at their crushed chest cavity, my foot creating a molten footprint in their armor as I removed it. Just like the others, they’d live if they got medical attention sooner than later. And if they didn’t, then their deaths were on the incompetence of their medics. Even if my hands were stained.

Something whimpered from my right. I turned to see a suit of pure eggshell white armor flat on its ass, trying to back away from me the best that it could. But… something was wrong. I could swear that I’d seen this exact suit of armor before, even if it was just in passing. It was too damn non-descript, though, so I could’ve been remembering it from my old life instead.

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Then I saw something that I definitely recognized. Two somethings, to be specific. One carried a hammer, and the other twin blades.

Harvester, whose first name I’d forgotten, raised his hammer to me in a challenge. “We won’t let you hurt any more of us.”

…There might have been a small chance that I’d just made a horrible assumption about which side people were on. I still put my shield between Harvester, Scalovera, and myself; I wasn’t about to let myself get killed on a misunderstanding.

“I’m here to help Matria Persephonia.” I said clearly. My words caused a mass wince and shudder among all the recruits around me, the ones that Jun had trained with for so many years. “I made a mistake attacking you, and I’m sorry.”

“You made a mistake supporting the losing Matria.” Scalovera quietly added, raising her weapons in addition to Harvester’s.

So I hadn’t made a mistake. “You’re all betraying Persephonia?”

Scalovera didn’t flinch. “We were trained to be loyal to our people, not one single Matria. There is no betrayal in war.”

“Big words coming from someone who’s barely not a teenager.” I laughed a little too cruelly, and this time both of the recruits did flinch. “Stand down or die.” I decreed. The tip of my sword burned the glass sand below. “I don’t really care which, betrayers.”

“Abyss dwelling loyalist.” Harvester spat. “We got stronger while you did nothing. Juniper was wrong to stand by you.”

Jun. I’d put her out of my mind, but if the other recruits were here, then where was she? The Scorched Bloodcoral Concoction flared in my veins, pushing a protective rage to the surface. I closed the distance to the two traitors in a heartbeat, my bones and anger flaring with a painful heat that would consume me before it went out.

“Gods–” Harvester started, but didn’t finish. My sword plunged into his chest and I planted my hand over his mouth, my shield suddenly on my back to protect me from Scalovera’s rain of blows.

“Stand. Down.” I growled, turning to glare at Scalovera, even if it wouldn’t get through my helmet. “Weapons down. Any hand clutching one gets cut off.”

Scalovera didn’t obey. Neither did any of the other recruits, the mass of them taking up their arms instead. “We don’t take orders from traitors.”

In my first life, it had taken me two years before I had blood on my hands. As my sword travelled up through Harvester’s jaw and brain, I christened this new life in death. Harvester stilled immediately, and I let his corpse fall to the sand below as his armor disappeared and the dead man’s body turned grisly.

The air of violence died around me. There was no righteous anger, no desire for retribution. Nothing of the sort. I watched as these people, barely more than kids, saw death for the first time. Saw what war did to people. Saw what people did to people. They would hate me for the rest of their lives, just as I’d carried hatred in my previous life. But there was no bargaining with people who didn’t understand the consequences.

“Stand down.” I whispered, then planted my sword in the sand, my shield still on my back. I felt sick to my stomach, even the righteous anger of the Scorched Bloodcoral Concoction was not enough to overcome this guilt that I’d carry. “Or join him.”

An obelisk of silver metal etched with runes like flowing water erupted between me and Harvester, and a woman stepped out. She was unarmored, her skin a pale pink and her eyes perfectly black. Her back was deeply bent, and she moved as if every step taken caused her immense pain. Yet she looked no older than Jun. She leaned down, a cacophony of cracks and snaps accompanying the gesture, and placed a gentle hand on Harvester’s cheek.

His wounds disappeared. He sat bolt upright, looking around in a panic until he settled on me. “You… you… I… how?”

“He gave you an ultimatum, little seed.” The woman said slowly, grabbing both of Harvester’s cheeks with her hands and forcing him to look her in the eyes. “Sending children to protect their Matria. War never seems to change, no matter how long time passes.”

The other recruits seemed to be emboldened by Harvester’s revitalization. They resumed fighting stances and began closing in, and I reluctantly moved to pull my sword from the sand. A hand completely stopped me, pressing insistently on mine with just enough force to keep me from moving. Nothing more, nothing less.

“I am not here to help you, children. I am here to prevent someone from making a mistake that would cost him greatly.” She said, then looked at me knowingly. “You shouldn’t be punished for a war that the Embodiments order. None of you should, children.”

She glared at Scalovera, who had been slowly inching towards us as the old young woman spoke. “I am going to remove my hands from this young man and give him my blessing to retaliate. But only to retaliate. Am I understood, children?”

“Traitors–” Scalovera began, then froze. Her armor had disappeared, along with her weapon. She stood there frozen in fear, then began to back away. A light blue aura followed her, like delicate lace trailing through the air to the accompaniment of tinkling glass bells.

“There are no traitors here.” The old young woman said harshly. “These are all our people. We live on the same land, follow the same gods, and are represented by the same embodiments. Do not let your superiors divide you among imaginary lines.” She turned to me and placed my sword in my hands. I hadn’t seen her move it. “No Matria deserves to die for an embodiment that cares nothing for her. Go to her side, Blue. And if the two of you happen to survive this, know that the grand temple of Moricla will welcome you with open arms.”