Cassy eyed her brother-in-law, carefully studying him. He was visibly angry, something she had never seen him be before. Oh sure, she had seen him annoyed at times, sad, curious, even worried. Angry, however? Never. It wasn't a comforting sight, even if she knew that the anger wasn't directed at her. She glanced over towards the wall he had broken earlier. He had just gone from calmly feeding the animals and talking to her to… Well, the words 'human battering ram' came to mind. He hadn't even slowed down! And now he was acting like none of that had happened! He was pacifying the animals and checking their stables for any damage they had caused when he had freaked them out.

She wasn't scared of him though! She knew he wouldn't hurt her. Whatever had happened was likely the fault of Jane again. She seemed to be trying to antagonise him and was just always rude to him, without a reason. Her sister had been trying to solve the situation, even going as far as trying to get him out of the door most of the time. She hadn't agreed with that, but on the other side that had meant she had gotten to spend more time with him. She liked being around him! Even now, when he was so pissed off, she knew she was perfectly safe and he'd watch over her. Her brother-in-law was a strange man, but also a very good one. A gust of wind knocked a few splinters loose and as they fell to the floor she made a mental addendum; and a very strong one.

'Did something happen?' she asked, breaking the silence. 'Was it Jane again?'

'Yes,' came the immediate answer. 'Jane caused problems for Onoelle.' He didn't elaborate, but that didn't put Cassy off.

'I didn't know you could break through walls like that,' she said, glancing back to the damaged part of the stables.

He seemed to shrink a bit at that. 'I am sorry. I did not mean to frighten you.'

'I wasn't frightened!' she lied. She relented instantly the moment he turned to look at her. He didn't like lies and he was the one person who she could never deceive. 'Okay, maybe I was a bit. But it was also cool! You just turned around and then! Bang!' she threw her arms open. 'And the wall was gone! That was even more cool then when you broke the tree! Or when you got me out of the river!' She looked at him with genuine awe and didn't understand why he wasn't excited about it. He was so strong! He never showed it off though. She didn't get that. If she was that strong, she'd brag about it to everyone!

'Can you keep not tell anyone about it?' he asked, his voice soft.

'But why?' She tried to read his face, but the sunglasses made it impossible.

'Please?'

She relented. 'Fiiiiiine.' She could count on one hand the amount of times he had asked something of her. She leaned down on his shoulders as he worked, bringing her lips to his ears. 'But you'll owe me!' she whispered conspiratorially.

He seemed to think about that, absentmindedly moving the heavy wooden bars around as he fixed the hinges on one of the gates. 'What would I owe you?'

'I... What?' Her eyebrows danced along her forehead in confusion. 'What do you mean?'

'What would I owe you?' he repeated. 'There are things I cannot give or do. What you wish of me might be more than I can provide you with.'

She laughed. 'I don't mean it literally! It's not like a contract! It means next time I ask something of you and you say 'no', I can make you do it anyway! Like letting me use power tools, or making me pancakes for breakfast!' she summed up, listing the two most important and most likely options.

He nodded. 'Then we have a deal.' He offered her his hand and she shook it. She giggled as she did so, feeling very much like an adult.

'I finished most of the work on the stable,' he continued. 'What remains is mostly clean up. You know how to sort the different pieces of debris?'

She looked at the gaping hole in the wall, which in her limited experience did translate to a fair loss of structural integrity. She raised a questioning eyebrow.

'Most,' he stressed. 'I will leave the final clean up to you. You can finish feeding the animals as well. After that, I want you to return to the house. I will be with Jane and Onoelle.'

'Where are they now?' she asked, curiosity piqued.

'Not at home,' he curtly replied, causing Cassy to pout. She briefly considered calling in her favour there and then, but decided against it. She had a feeling he wouldn't take it well and there were more important things to ask for at a later date.

'Fine,' she relented. 'Do you have any idea when you'll be back?'

'Not later than sunset. Onoelle will be with me.'

That sent a shiver down her spine. 'What will you do with Jane?' she asked with a small voice.

Mentuc's expression turned dark. 'I do not yet know. She is Onoelle's friend, but...' He trailed off. 'It will depend on what Onoelle will tell me.'

Cassy nodded, then shrieked when her big brother messed up her hair, his expression normal again. 'Take care of yourself,' he told her. Then he turned and walked away, through the door rather than the open hole in the wall, strangely enough. She watched him go and shook her head with a smile. Mentuc was strange, even more so than her sister had ever been, but he was family. She trusted him.

Onoelle slowly opened her eyes, feeling incredibly drowsy. Her sight was blurry and she couldn't focus. She just laid there, on an incredibly soft bed, trying to make sense of the grey-ish environment she was in. The one thing that she did immediately notice was the lack of her husband's presence, which was worrying. She opened her mouth to speak, but another familiar voice cut her off.

Easy now. You've been properly put under. Those anaesthetics were a bit strong given your weight. You'll be dizzy for a good while longer. Just stay in bed, okay?

'Nightmare?' Onoelle whispered, pleased that her voice was still functioning properly. 'Where am I? Where's Mentuc?' A worst case scenario ran through her head and she forced herself up, fighting against the feeling of vertigo washing over her. 'Where's Jane? And Cassy?'

Jane is on the bed next to you. You're on board the ship, in the medbay. Mentuc is on his way back here. He made sure Cassy was alright first. She's still in the stables, but will return to the house soon. Mentuc cleaned the signs of the fight, so she won't find anything suspicious there. He did run through the wall of the stable, however, but your sister took that in surprisingly good stride.

Onoelle fell back on the bed, her muscles stinging badly but she still let out a deep sigh of relief at the news. 'That's good,' she muttered. 'That's good.'

I know you have many questions, but let's hold off on those until Mentuc is here, alright? I have not debriefed him on what happened yet. I believe you would prefer to do so yourself on account that it might be beneficial for him. Personally I think it will be beneficial for you as well. Nightmare's avatar walked into her view, a slight blue-ish shape walking in front of the bed, before sitting down on it and running a hand through her hair with surprising tenderness. For what it is worth, I apologise. I had underestimated Jane's reaction. I will elaborate on that later. For now, I have a question for you.

Nightmare laid herself down on the bed until the AI's face became level with her own. What was it like, she whispered, a plethora of untraceable emotions running like a raging current underneath her voice. What was it like to step into our world? It was a tiny step, but you have crossed the border that lays between innocent civilian and warrior.

'How have I done so? Onoelle moaned. 'I just defended myself.'

Against someone who tried to genuinely kill you! the AI insisted excitedly. You used your training, your skill, your knowledge to survive. The moment you do that, when you become confronted with the need to kill or be killed, you loose a part of your innocence. Mentuc is actually furious over it. He understands the distance you just crossed better than anyone. A first step on the road to having memories that will haunt you forever. You came off well, everyone survived. But will you ever be able to look at your friend the same way again? Will you forget how it felt when your fist collided with her nose? The gasp of pain she let out when you kicked her? The sound of her flesh tearing open as you drove the poker through her shoulder? That feeling of satisfaction you felt when you were beating her back? The overwhelming urge to kill her, so she would never threaten you again?

She looked away, ashamed and disgusted by the memories. She felt Nightmare's hand move from her head to her cheek and pulled back from the touch, suddenly horrified by it.

I do not mean ill with it. That is what it means to be human. I understand that even better than he does. I have experienced it. He has only witnessed it. The joy you felt at inflicting pain isn't alien to him. It is the deep satisfaction of survival. The pleasure derived from succeeding in overcoming obstacles. In completing your mission. Even as Genesis that wasn't taken from us. We still had some basic impulses left, otherwise we wouldn't have functioned as well as we did.

Onoelle didn't speak, closing her eyes instead and willing the memories away. Her mind still wasn't functioning properly, but from deep within her soul disgust welled up in thick waves and threatened to choke her.

Nightmare withdrew her hand. I see that you are in no state to answer yet. Please think about it at a later date. I am most curious to your answer. It is of great interest to me to see basic human nature clash with learned behaviour patterns. In that regard you are just as much a product of society as us Genesis. A small smile smile played around Nightmare's lips. Well, perhaps less literal. The projection faded out of existence and popped back in the same moment, this time beside her bed again. I have been working on your wounds. The bone splinters in your arm have been welded back to your bone. Your skin has been sown close and I fixed your concussion.

One part of that sentence stood out from all the rest, breaking through her anaesthetics induced numbness. 'You fixed my concussion?' she asked, incredulously. 'How?'

I cut open your head and prodded your brain, to summarise a very complex procedure. It is nothing spectacular. Your husband once had half his head blown off and Dr. Eisel fixed him up just fine as well, minus a bit of memory loss. We had the technology to be rebuilt as long as enough of our core organs were left intact. Fixing a concussion is child's play compared to that.

It took a moment for the full truth of that to sink in, but when it did she rolled to the edge of the bed and she hurled up her breakfast. She didn't see the shield bubble popping into existence around the vomit, her mind too focused on the procedure Nightmare just described. 'You did what!?' she coughed, wiping the remnants off her lips.

It's a minor medical procedure, the AI said, helpfully gesturing to a bottle of water standing on the trolley next to the bed. I did not put anything in your brain, there is no lasting damage, no scars. I even removed what little damages you've accumulated over your short, adventurous lifetime. You're as unblemished as the day you were born.

Onoelle grimaced at that. She didn't like that the once Genesis had removed all of her scars without her consent. On top of that, while Nightmare wasn't fully a stranger she remained an AI and someone who had, until very recently, absolutely terrified her and definitely not someone you'd want picking your brain. Not figuratively and definitely not literally. The enigmatic being seemed to pick up on that, because she leaned on the bed with a smile broad enough to be visible through her blurred vision. To quote the words of respected officers who have long disappeared into history; it is hard to think ill of the men and women who you've bled beside. You fought against an enemy of the Empire. An enemy of Mentuc and I. It may not matter to you, but it matters to me.

Nightmare stepped back just as the heavy doors slid open and the heavy thud of Mentuc's footsteps immediately resonated through the room. Onoelle pushed herself up, despite the dizziness that caused and found her vision going from blurry and grey to blurry and black in a second as her husband crossed the distance and swooped her up in a warm, tight hug. The unease brought on by the loss of direction was more than made up for by his presence and she found herself safely tucked in his arms as he sat down on the bed. Tears began to well up in her eyes again as she felt her tense muscles relax and the accumulated emotions of the day began streaming out of her in heaving sobs. Mentuc said nothing, only moving his hands gently across her back. It was all she needed. She stayed like that for a good while, slowly running out of tears as her mind began to process everything that had transpired. A laugh bubbled out of her when she realised that treating traumas and living through them were quite different. She had lived through a number of risky situations so far, but she had always been saved by others. To fight through them yourself was, as Nightmare had hinted at, life changing.

'How are you?'

She wrestled herself loose from his embrace so she could look him in the eye. Her vision had returned to normal again and she found his three lenses shifting about in his strange eyes, as ever. They looked inhuman and alien and to her they were the most delightful sight in the world. Her mind was plucking at theories, stringing ideas and thoughts together. Memories of his tales and experience flooded her consciousness and she gave him an intense, scrutinising look. 'Do you know how I feel?'

'No,' he easily admitted. 'But I have seen civilians stand where you are now.'

He means that he doesn't understand you from personal experience, but he has seen it happen enough times that he can at least somewhat extrapolate from accumulated data, Nightmare interjected.

Onoelle nodded. It made sense. It was easy to forget that Mentuc had been alive for centuries. Just because he did not understand something did not mean he knew nothing about it. 'I'm confused,' she explained. 'When she attacked me, I didn't know what to do. I knew I had to fight back, but she was my friend. She is my friend. I didn't want to hurt her. Then she hit me and suddenly I was fighting back, without thinking, like an animal and—'

'Not like an animal,' Mentuc corrected with surprising firmness. 'You still applied tactics and martial skill to the battle.'

'No I didn't,' she said, shaking her head. 'I wasn't thinking at all. I was just scared and—'

'Onoelle,' he said, once again using that inflection that made the word become so much more. She shut up and looked him in eyes, captivated by the brooding intensity laying within them. 'In battle, you do not think. Your training with me is not something that is meant to make you think while you are in battle. It is supposed to make you act.'

In more eloquent terms it means that you're not supposed to consciously think while you're fighting. You train until the right responses become an instinctive reaction that overrule every other action your brain takes. Including being scared.

Mentuc nodded. 'You did well.'

She sniffled and ran her arm past her eyes, clearing up the remnants of her tears, taking a tiny bit of solace in those words. 'You're used to it, aren't you? Seeing everything happen at once, knowing what path to take. You actually think rather than reacting on instinct, don't you?' she suddenly realised. 'It's not a confusing mess of a million things happening in the same moment to you while you're panicking. It's all clear, easy to process.' She looked up at him, glad for his strong arms around her. It made her feel safe, shut out enough of the world that she could focus on the two of them and their thoughts.

'Yes. I am Genesis,' came his reply. 'We were made for this.' There was no sorrow in his voice, no emotional connotation to the word. Perhaps it was the newfound experiences that made her look at it all in a new light, perhaps it was something else, but she felt as if she understood him better now. I crossed the border between civilian and warrior, she recalled Nightmare's words. Was that really it? A unique perspective that you couldn't fathom unless you had experienced it? Stars, she had only touched the very edge of it and already it had enriched her views on the world so extensively. How had she ever thought that she had genuinely understood Mentuc before? Or maybe she had precisely because she lacked that perspective. He was a soldier, true and through. He knew nothing but that perspective and even then he knew it in a very inhuman way.

She reached out with a hand and gently laid it on his cheek. He looks so sad, she suddenly realised. And angry. 'What is wrong?' she asked.

'This wasn't supposed to happen.' His voice rumbled through the room, with an intensity to it that she had never heard before. She felt it reverberate through his chest and a warm, all compassing fury radiated from him for the briefest of moments. When he spoke again he sounded normal once more, his appearance belying the overwhelming rage that burned within him. 'I never wanted you to suffer like that. I should have stayed with you. I could have prevented it.'

She veered up, out of his arms and nearly crashed off the bed, would have if not for Nightmare's swift intervention, and pointed at him, her own anger flaring up. 'Don't you dare, Mentuc! Don't you dare blame yourself for this!'

Nightmare vibrated into the visible spectrum once more. I agree with Onoelle. If anyone is to blame for this fiasco, it would be me. Despite the clear and strict objectives you have assigned to me, I failed to fulfil them. I made an error in judgement and Onoelle paid the price of that.

'Never thought I'd say this, but Nightmare's right,' Onoelle sighed.

With the exception of today's events, Nightmare bit back, I always am right. A gentle smile took the sting out of the words.

'Maybe,' Onoelle shrugged, 'but that doesn't mean you'd catch me saying it out loud.' Then she froze. 'You're antagonising me on purpose again, aren't you?'

The smile broadened. Yes. Distraction and moving on with life itself remains the best way to deal with mental shocks. Time heals most wounds. In that regard, won't you tell Mentuc precisely what happened? I will fill in the gaps. I recorded the entire event as well.

Onoelle shuddered at that revelation. She turned towards Mentuc and found him still partially blaming himself. She grabbed him by the shoulders and tried to shake him, only to end up shaking herself. Undeterred, she pulled herself closer to him, standing on the tips of her toes so she could look him squarely in the eye. 'It was on my insistence that Jane stayed. It was on my command that you let her live. It was because I asked it of you that you left the two of us alone.'

I'd say it was mostly because she was psionically brainwashed to become a violent suicide commando whenever someone logically cornered her in regards to the Empire, Nightmare casually added, causing total silence to engulf the medbay.

'What did you say?' hissed Onoelle once she got over the shock. 'My best friend was brainwashed?'

Psionically so, yes. Let us begin at the very start. When Mentuc left the house, the AI said, raising an arm. A broad projection flared to life and Onoelle idly wondered just how many projectors the once Genesis had hidden all over the ship. Then the floating image began displaying the events that had unfolded and her mind radically shifted away from the insane revelation and back to her earlier mental state of total disarray as she relived the fight. She held her husband's hand and felt his muscles turn to solid steel when the battle began. He suddenly motioned and Nightmare stopped the projection, just at the point where Onoelle had fully lashed out and attacked Jane.

'You counterattacked here,' he remarked.

She looked to her feet, embarrassed. 'Yes.' Then she got over it and looked up at her husband. He is trying to point something out, she realised, not accuse me.

'There are three types of reactions as a baseline in human behaviour,' he began. 'When attacked people either take flight, they freeze, or,' he pointed to the still image of Onoelle jumping forward with the poker held high. 'They fight.'

'I'm aware of that,' she replied, holding her tongue back. He knew that she knew. She narrowed her eyes. 'What are you leading up to?'

'You could have run and leave the fighting to me. You knew I was coming. That would not have been flight. Fight represents conscious action. Running to let me handle it would have been fight. You could have made it. You chose not to. You deliberately chose not to.' His eyes wandered from the scene to her. They were almost inquisitive, boring deeply into her eyes, past them even, into her soul. She felt a shiver travel down through her spine. This was a side of Mentuc she hadn't seen before. 'Why?'

'I...' she stammered. 'I didn't think about it at the time...'

'You did,' he countered to her surprise.

Nightmare tilted her head. Were you thinking of Jane? Worried that Mentuc would kill her?

'Maybe?' Onoelle pondered. 'I don't know. I really wasn't thinking at the time.' She frowned, trying to recall the memory. 'No, wait, I did think that! That might be the reason, but—'

Mentuc nodded, seemingly satisfied with the answer and gestured for Nightmare to continue, to Onoelle's confusion, before she understood that it was something he was sorting out in his own head. A few moments later the replay ended and Nightmare sat down on Jane's bed, who was still out like a light. Likely sedated, Onoelle realised.

Now, onto the topic at hand. It is my conjecture that there are psionics out in the world, likely in the major cities, where psionics passively project an aura that pushes people towards hating the Empire. It is subtle, impossible to notice and only has an affect after prolonged exposure, although its effects are greatly enhanced by the general anti-Imperial propaganda that permeates the galaxy at large. It is a conspiracy theory of the largest level, but one that appears to be true. Jane was more affected than most due to her close affiliation with history, which warranted a more close up contact with a psionic who projects a more direct aura. This theory would explain why your friend refused to listen to any form of reason and went on to adamantly defend illogical and contrasting statements, despite this going against her character. And why the trauma you gave her temporarily reset her normal brain functions before the slumbering command took over again. Of course, this is conjecture. What isn't conjecture is that she was psionically brainwashed.

She coughed. This conjecture also opens up the avenue of why nearly every ally that the Empire had suddenly turned on them in the most critical moments. It takes a lot of psionics to subtly influence an entire population. A few state heads, on the other hand, are easy target if those psionics already have positions of power internally. That is an entirely different discussion and theory and possibly completely unrelated to the first one. Moving on.

Nightmare stretched out her arm and a new projection formed. Onoelle recognised a brain and realised it showed a lot of information in regards to it, with a lot of red and blue bits being lit up, but it made no sense to her, even though the AI had translated the words from Imperial. I took Jane's brain apart and thoroughly scanned it. The AI looked directly at Onoelle. The taking apart bit was literal. It was necessary. Then I undid the brainwashing. Or rather, I overwrote it with a program that counters it.

Onoelle blanched. 'You did WHAT?' she shouted, feeling her stomach fall in on itself. Then, as the second implication of Nightmare's statement hit home; 'You can brainwash people?'

Nightmare scoffed. Of course I can. The Empire originally developed this technique to counter psionic brainwashing, although it does require a state of the art medical suite and experienced surgeons to perform the operation. It requires a very literal picking of the brain. The doctors quickly learned that there, however, is no way to undo the damage done, for it isn't really damage, merely a subtle reprogramming that results in microscopic scar tissue, although damage does start to pile up the more a command clashes with the person's standard behaviour due to the rest of the brain trying to reject it. The only real way of undoing that is by creating a new command that overwrites the original, allowing the brain to return to its natural state through a detour. This does not remove the scar tissue that already is in place.

'That's...' she began, before falling silent. She just didn't know a word for how impossibly disgusting and vile that was. The concept of having your mind overwritten was beyond ghastly for her.

'As Genesis we have natural defences against psionic attacks.'

Do we ever, Nightmare purred with so much bloodlust that it unnerved Onoelle.

'The Kra'lagh?' her husband asked, pulling her out of her stupor. Onoelle blinked, before realising that Mentuc was skipping several steps and looking for the culprit.

I lack the information to draw a proper conclusion, but while it seems likely at first glance, we never found any proof of Kra'lagh psionics, nor does it fit in their mission profile to do something on the low down. If they had the ability to influence the galaxy at large, it seems likely they would have taken it over by force by now. Regardless, I believe all of our mission objectives remain unaltered.

'Wait,' she yelled. 'How come I wasn't affected? I studied in the city for years. I should have been affected as well!'

Oh, that's easy, Nightmare grinned, dropping her serious personality. It's cause you had the absolute hots for Mentuc.

Onoelle threw the AI a withering glare. She had just mauled her best friend, had the inside of her skull prodded and was informed of a conspiracy theory the size of the fucking galaxy. She wasn't in the mood for jokes.

Alright, the full answer. You should have guessed it really. You're a psychiatrist. Your very job is to find mental anomalies and deal with them. The nature of your studies makes it incredibly difficult for such subversion to take hold. You live and breathe rationality. Normally I would put it on par with Jane's instructions, except I assume that the psionic was present in that class, in person. In addition to that, I believe you had very little direct contact with the person who influenced Jane. There was no sign of your brain being meddled with, not to the extent Jane's was. I checked. Nightmare's grin widened slightly at the visible unease those words brought, but the AI didn't react further. Then there is the fact that you were together with Mentuc for a long while before figuring out he was Imperial. In other words; your personal attachments to him overruled whatever distaste you might have had against him. If he had started his meeting with you by announcing his identity, you might have reacted differently.

She pinched her nose as she considered the list of arguments Nightmare had put forward. 'That does make sense,' she admitted with a deep sigh. It was all growing too much for her. She was just a regular human, dammit. This was way above what she could deal with. 'And what did you mean with your mission objectives being unaltered?'

What difference does it make that we know now of it? We can take precautions. You won't be influenced if you visit the city and given how psionics work the aura itself isn't enough to spot your illegal, not anti-Imperial thoughts. In short, nothing changes on your end. Before you fly off the handle, I know your best friend was brainwashed and attacked you because of that, but unless you plan on having Mentuc and I declare war on something that holds such a huge part of the galaxy in its grasp,—

'Never,' Mentuc interrupted firmly. 'I would not be able to guarantee your safety if I did that. Nor do we have any chance of success.'

—then I suggest you just keep up what you were doing while figuring out what you want to do with Jane. I'll keep her here for now. I can keep her sedated while you sort out your thoughts. Now get out of my ship. You have a stable to fix and a sister to reassure. A soft smile lessened the impact, but Nightmare's avatar still pushed her firmly towards the door. With a loud sigh, Onoelle relented and allowed her husband to pick her up. She didn't mind being in his arms for a while. She had a lot to think about.

'You win, Leonne!' Cassy shouted to the seemingly empty forest. 'I can't see you at all! Come on! Tell me where you are!' The young teenager ambled around the trees aimlessly, occasionally darting a glance at the Wall before returning her attention to the green around her. Her sister was hiding somewhere around here, testing out a new type of tarp that she had splurged a chunk of her savings on, along with a ton of other survival related items that were now set up all over the area.

It had been nearly three weeks since they had braved the storm and survived and while Leonne remained adamantly convinced that the new guy had saved them in the storm, Cassy had to admit that Catie's explanation that her sister had imagined it seemed likely. He had shown up in the village twice since then, but every time their parents had kept the over-eager Leonne on a short leash, not happy with her having gone through a near-death experience. And the moment they had let go of her, she had started emptying the village's survival store and trekked back to the Wall the moment the new guy had been sighted in the village again. Cassy had let herself be bribed with the promise of no chores for two weeks and receiving Leonne's share of the desserts for a month and helped her set it all up. Now there were trip wires all over the Wall, several cameras had been set up and Leonne was hiding under her new, incredibly expensive tarp, completely hidden from sight and totally refusing to show her face, to Cassy's major annoyance.

'If you're not going to tell me where you are, I'm going back home and I'm telling dad!' she threatened, looking as angry as possible in the direction she had last seen her sister in.

'That's not fair!' came Leonne's voice from surprisingly close. 'I had to test it and you try a lot harder when properly motivated!' The young woman crawled from underneath the tarp, revealing her hiding place. She had been perfectly stealthed, the reactive camouflage blending in seamlessly with her surroundings. Cassy forgot her annoyance and whistled appreciatively. That was impressive. 'Well?' asked Leonne. 'Did you see me?'

'Not in the slightest! Lay down again? I want to see it work!'

Leonne grinned and crawled back down, not bothered by the wet grass, still damp from the early morning rain. Both of them were dressed better now, far more prepared for any freak weather, including a heavy backpack that Leonne was forced to lug wherever she went, part of the deal that she had struck with her parents to be let out of the house again. The camouflage fluctuated as its automated sensors took in its surroundings and the reactive coating changed its structure, fading away in the background. Cassy watched the process in awe. She knew where her sister was, had seen her lay down on the ground and if it weren't for that, she'd have lost sight of her again.

'What do you think?' drifted Leonne's voice from underneath the tarp. 'Do you think he'll see me?'

'Not a chance!' Cassy chirped, circling around her sister's hiding spot. 'If you lay down like that you're not even visible.' She leant in close, running her fingers across the strange fabric. It felt coarse, but even as she pressed down on the tarp it didn't change, to her surprise. That make sense if you factor in the wind she realised. 'Can you see from underneath there though?'

'Yeah, perfectly. There's a bit that's see-through at the top, so I can see you standing there scratching your head.'

Cassy catapulted her hand away from her head and back to her side, before giggling. 'Do you think you'll be able to spot him? You didn't see him come down last time either, did you?' She was incredibly amused by it all. The memory of her close brush with death had already begun fading away again, as she had never really been worried. Her sister had never let her down, after all. To her the constant bickering between Leonne and their parents and the seeming obsession that her sister had with the new guy were nothing but great entertainment.

'I hope so,' came a less enthusiastic answer. 'It's why I have cameras set up. Although he should be coming down here. He's been dropping by to the village once a week so he should pass by today as well. And this is the easiest place to climb the Wall.'

'Right. Will you call me the moment you see him?'

'Of course. Now go, okay? If he gets past me, at least you'll be able to see him.'

Cassy nodded and began skipping to the camp they had set up along the road the day before. She didn't mind being roped into her sister's tricks. She hoped the man would elude her again though, because if this kept up then Leonne would end up doing her half of the chores for the next year! Giggling to herself, Cassy disappeared between the trees and left her sister alone with her prospective quarry.

Dreamer slowly crawled to the edge of the wall, making sure that nothing around him gave away his position. He was alarmed. The girl was back, again, and he still had no idea what had originally driven her to be suspicious of him. When he had talked to her, she hadn't seemed hostile either, merely curious and inquisitive, although she clearly lacked the training to be an intelligence asset. No, no, he was doing it again. She was a civilian. He had staked out the village extensively along with Nightmare, before landing in the dead of night. There were only civilians here and none of them had military backgrounds. Explorers, farmers and craftsmen, along with several young graduates who had displayed adventurous tendencies, those were the people who had founded the village. Not security forces, ex-military personnel, researchers or intelligence units.

Then why had she set up a network of cameras alongside the Wall? He had simply talked to her the first time around, but now she was back with a marked improvement in the quality of her tools. Once, he could have lived with. A second time meant something was amiss.

He was weighing his options carefully. He could disable the cameras. They were positioned annoyingly well, with no discernible blind spots that he could see. Getting down there would require either circumventing their reach or tossing rocks at them in a broad enough arc to not be spotted. The former would require him to jump down and leave visible tracks. The ground around that area was too soft, even worse now with the recent rain and if he had to jump down from a dozen metres… No, not very feasible. The latter was a more valid option, but he would have to be careful. Some of the cameras had overlapping fields that he would have to avoid. He would also have to dodge the trap wires and not damage any of the cameras. He briefly considered just staying up there and waiting for her to go away, she would not be able to continuously observe him. He could easily outlast her, but no, that would prevent him from visiting the village today and he was trying to establish a pattern. Adhering to a pattern made it easier to blend into the crowd and he could not jeopardise his infiltration. He mentally chastised himself immediately. It wasn't an infiltration. He was acclimatising. For all intents and purposes he was a civilian now.

How civilians were supposed to deal with girls setting up a stake out to watch them was a question he had no answer to, though.

In the end, he settled for throwing the rock. He crawled around first, making sure he knew where every camera was hidden. They were small things by his standards, but then again they were not meant to transmit through hostile terrain or required to see the full spectrum. Once he had mapped those out, he doubled back and did it again, making sure he had not missed any. Then he did it again from the opposite direction, just to play it safe. He idly noted that the girl remained remarkably still, even if she was not half as well hidden as she thought. The tall grass around her was broken and while the camouflage did add the right colours to it, it could not fool his depth perception. To him she was a large bubble sticking out of the terrain.

Once he was certain that there were no further traps around and he had selected his target, he picked up a decently heavy rock and chucked it. It wasn't too different to throwing a grenade and he had thrown tens of thousands of those over his lifetime. It hit the branch he had been aiming for. The branch snapped off, landed on top of the camera and knocked it over. He now had secured his exit and he swiftly began making his way down, before sneaking past the girl. That was an easy task. She was so fixated on the easiest path down the wall that she forgot one of the basic rules of engagements. She hadn't kept her flanks secure.

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He was originally planning on simply leaving the stretch of the woods and bypassing the girl, but that plan was thoroughly thwarted when he spotted the camp on the road and saw the girl's younger sister keep watch. Not a very attentive watch by his standards, but the area around it was largely flat and empty, only a handful of trees and shrubberies breaking up the empty plains. Going around that would require him to manoeuvre carefully and lose time and appearing in the village without being spotted would only raise further questions. Bypassing the girl in the woods could easily be explained. Sneaking past the second girl? Not so much.

That meant he had to confront her. Again. He idly toyed with the idea of just killing them both, but discarded that just as quickly. So far they had not proven to be a threat, merely an unanswered question. He walked towards the girl, Leonne, from her blind spot. With how damp the grass and the trees were, it was easy for him to move around without making a sound. He stopped right behind her, pondering how he should speak to her, before deciding on the direct approach.

'Why are you spying on me?'

Instead of answering coherently, she jumped up, fell over, scrambled backwards and all throughout that she was screaming at the top of her lungs.

Leonne felt her heart beat like a jackhammer in her chest while she tried to untangle herself from the tarp, never taking her eyes off the tall man in front of her. She had no idea how Dreamer had snuck up on her, how he had gotten past the trip wires or how he had even seen her. She hadn't seen him come down, hadn't received any sort of warning until he spoke. 'I...' she stammered, before she tripped and fell backwards. He closed in on her, absolutely towering over her. She could tell that he wasn't happy; even with his eyes hidden behind his sunglasses his face was locked in a stern expression. She belatedly realised that she had been spying on him and that most people wouldn't take kindly to that. She silently cursed her own ego. She was too used to people letting her do what she wanted, either her looks, her degrees or her intelligence letting her persuade people. She had the feeling that wouldn't work on Dreamer, however.

'Were you the shadowman who saved us in the storm?' she blurted out in a panic. He took a sudden step back, his face contorting slightly as his eyes narrowed sharply.

'I am not a Shadowman,' he replied. She failed to notice his hands balling up into fists.

'No, of course not,' she muttered. 'I'm sorry, I...' She had been stupid. Catie had been right, she had to have hallucinated it. Nobody would have been able to pick the both of them up like that, especially not in that storm.

'Why are you spying on me?' he repeated. 'This is the second time you are laying in wait here. Why?' She felt his eyes bore into hers, even if she couldn't see them.

'I wasn't spying on you,' she tried, eyes darting all over the place, as long as it wasn't him. 'I was watching for… animals?' she ventured. The next moment her vision faded to black, before her mind caught up and she realised she was gazing directly into the mirrored sunglasses, less than an inch away from her face. His hand was resting around her throat, not yet hurting her, but the unspoken threat was there.

'You lie,' he stated coldly, emotionlessly. He seemed to be getting agitated by her lie. Dangerously so. 'Why do you spy on me?' he asked, his voice growing more insistent, telling her he wouldn't repeat it a fourth time.

She felt fear well up inside of her and she blurted out her next answer without thinking. 'Because you're interesting!'

The answer seemed to give him pause and he pulled back again 'Interesting?' The raw danger he radiated disappeared, to be replaced by confusion.

She nodded mutely, very aware of the lingering feeling his hand had left on her throat. She tried to crawl away, slowly, and was surprised to find that he didn't move while she did so. 'Elaborate,' he demanded, crossing his arms. There was a certain air of authority hovering around him that was pressing in on her from all sides, overwhelming her.

She looked away. 'Because of everything,' she whispered. 'Wanting to live behind the Wall, the tracks that disappeared when you pulled the cart, the way you speak and move. It's all so strange and I don't get it and I'm just stuck in this village and bored all the time and you were something new and I just wanted to understand why you were different and it was something fun to do and...' she trailed off, feeling her cheeks flush red. Stars, it sounded so stupid now that she said it out loud. Then, to her surprise, he just pulled back.

'I see,' was all he said.

She stayed on the ground, looking up at him and wondering what was going through his mind as he ceased to react. He just stood there, his face unscrutinizable. She'd have eagerly given up what little savings she had left to know what he was thinking about.

'Are you the only one who thinks this way?'

'Stars no!' she exclaimed. 'Half the village thinks you're mad!' she shouted. 'I mean, not that you're bad! Just mentally ill!' she hastily added, before realising that she was just stuffing her foot deeper into her mouth.

'Then what made you spy on me? The other villagers are not here.'

'I... They think you're strange, but they don't like to get involved in other's business.'

'And you do?'

'I'm a psychiatrist by trade,' she said, sighing deeply. She got up, still wary but she somehow suspected he wasn't going to harm her anymore. 'I have nothing to do all day. There's no need for someone with my qualifications in the village. It was something to break the boredom.'

'So you and your sister are the only ones who would come after me?'

'No, just me. I just took her along to help me set things up,' she admitted, before her eyes went wide. 'Wait, how did you know about my sister? For that matter, why did you run off last time? That wasn't a hallucination! You warned me about the storm and then you ran off when my sister showed up! You couldn't have heard us talking unless you were in the area!'

His entire behaviour changed in the blink of an eye. He went from standing still to crouching low and moving towards her. From neutral to radiating raw threat. She catapulted herself back, only stopping when she hit a tree, raw fear overriding every conscious thought for a brief moment before she realised that he hadn't moved at all. She eyed him warily, feeling her body tremble like a reed. Have I imagined it? she wondered. He was still standing there, though, as if nothing had happened.

'How am I different?'

She blinked mutely at the question, unable to progress it. 'How are you different?' she repeated.

'Yes,' he said. 'You said I was different. How?'

She sat down and thought about it and to her surprise he followed suit, sitting down opposite of her. Intriguing behaviour.. 'For starters,' she began, choosing her words with care. 'You remember how you weren't bothered by Sam ripping you off? How you thought the money was inconsequential? That is strange. Normal people would get angry, or annoyed.' She darted an inquisitive glance at him. 'Unless you are so rich that you don't care.' He didn't respond in any way. She hadn't really expected him to, but she had hoped to see something show on his face.

'Then there was that time when you pointed towards Cassy in that weird way. Then you disappeared after she showed up and I still don't know why you did that.' She crossed her arms an tried shooting him a stern glare, but it faltered before it even fully formed on her face. 'You said you broke the tools and were going to replace them with metal. Most people think you're just strange, the way many people are. You come from the city, after all, and people in the countryside always think that those who live in the cities are weird. Personally there's also the two times you've spotted me, despite being hidden. And I made sure I was well hidden this time. Then there's your name and the way you talk.'

She flinched when he made a sharp gesture. 'What makes you think I am from the city?' he asked, tilting his head sideways.

She looked at his outstretched hand, not understanding what he was pointing at. Was there something in the grass? She moved over to it and ran her hands through it, searching.

'What are you doing?'

'Trying to find what you were pointing at.'

'I was pointing at the grass.'

'I'm looking! I'm not seeing it. What does the grass have to do with you being from the city?'

'It does not?' He tilted his head again.

'Then why are you pointing at the grass?'

'Your question. You hid yourself, but the grass has been visibly moved. You left a very clear trail.'

She blinked in surprise, before hopping to her feet and walking a fair distance away. She looked at the grass and cursed when she saw it. The places she had waded through looked indeed different from the untouched parts. Dammit, she thought. No wonder he had found her so easily.

'What does that have to do with you being from the city though?

'As I said, it does not have anything to do with that. I would also like to clarify that I never stated I was from the city. Hence why I asked why you thought so.'

'They were two completely separate remarks?'

He nodded. 'Yes.'

She looked at him, intensely this time. 'You do realise,' she said, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips, 'that that is weird as well? That's the mental equivalent of drawing squares and circles with your hands. Except more difficult.'

He tilted his head and she suddenly realised it signified a question, or curiosity. Her first breakthrough! 'Have you ever tried that? The squares and circles thing I mean.' She walked back over to him and sat down. She gave him a broader smile this time, before demonstrating what she meant. Or at least she tried to.

She quickly gave up and her smile grew rueful. 'As you can see, it's not easy.'

'It isn't?' he asked. It was a question like any other he asked, without any emotion or particular inflection, but she still bristled at it.

'Go on then!' she challenged him, crossing her arms. 'Try it!'

'Like his?' he asked, his hands drawing the symbols perfectly, without any effort or hesitation.

'What the fuck.'

'Or am I supposed to mimic the direction you used rather than a direct mirror?' he continued, suddenly switching direction and shapes without breaking stride.

She felt her face contort in a frown. She had always hated being upstaged, but being upstaged to this extent? She felt her blood begin to boil. He had to be doing it on purpose.

'Right. What was the bit you said about not being from the city? And stop doing that!' she hissed.

His hands stopped moving. 'I said that I never stated I was from the city,' he said. 'Why did you assume I was?'

'Because there is nothing else around here. If someone new shows up, the city is the only place they can come from.'

'I see,' was all he said. He tilted his head again. 'Are you considered different?'

The tone of the question and the sudden change of subject took her off guard. She saw him looking at her with his head tilted slightly and the way he had phrased the question made it sound like he hoped the answer would be 'yes'. She felt her earlier anger evaporate as she put aside her childish behaviour. She sat up strange and looked him over again, letting her mind go over what he had said, analysing him. She compared his behaviour to the standard patterns of autism, schizophrenia, Aspergers, then expanded onto other disorders. From what she had seen so far, he scored relatively high on several of them, but the spread was too abnormal. The way he walked reminded her of people with a factitious disorder, but it didn't add up. He was in no way acting like a patient. She blinked slowly, a suspicion forming in her mind. It was a guess really, she didn't even have enough information to label it as a theory, but if she was right...

'Let's assume I am,' she offered. 'What would you make of that?'

'Why?'

'Why am I seen as different?'

'Yes.

Her eyes narrowed. 'Because I ignore what others label as sound advice. Because I betray the expectations that people place on me. Because I enjoy things they label as dangerous and irresponsible and dislike the things they label as fun. Because I am loud and blunt at times.' She waited for him to continue.

'Have people ever stalked you?'

She snorted. 'Some friends and family did, at times, to keep me safe.'

He tilted is head again. That was either a tic or a habit! She was sure of it now! 'Did you require safekeeping then?'

Her mouth fell open as dozens of memories flashed by. The kidnapping incident, the amount of times she'd gotten herself in till over her head, the storm of a few weeks ago. She noticed she was twining her hair around her fingers and forced herself to stop.

'Yes,' she said, swallowing a more hot headed response.

'If you did not require safekeeping, would they still stalk you?'

She shook her head. 'No, they wouldn't.'

'I do not require safekeeping. Will you still stalk me?'

She stared at him, her mind unable to process the sudden leap in logic. 'What?'

'I do not—'

'No, I heard you! I mean, what makes you think I'm stalking you because you needed to be kept safe?'

'So you only started spying on me because I am different, and the reason you do so and nobody else does that is because you are different as well?'

That sounded like some major dissonance disorders to her, but she nodded anyway.

'So different people stalk other people who are different?' he continued on.

'That is a very crude way of approaching the subject, but for brevity's sake, let's assume that is the case.'

He nodded and then proceeded to utterly floor her. 'You stalk me because you are bored and because you are different. If you were bored but not different, you would not stalk me. Stalking is not normal behaviour.' It wasn't a question this time. It was a statement. A very logical one from her point of view, but given the enormous roundabout way he had taken to get to it...

'You don't know how to interact with other people normally, do you? You're trying to learn it. You asked all of this and were going to ask me everything you did wrong in detail, everything that made you stand out as different, am I right?'

His face became a stone wall and she knew she had hit the bullseye. Part of her wanted to press further, but something about his body language told her to back off instead. She settled for her most disarming smile and was slightly unnerved when it bounced off him. 'I won't ask further, and I won't tell anyone about this. I'd get in trouble if they knew I was here, trying to spy on you. So,' she said, getting up and batting the raindrops of her clothes, 'you can rest assured. My lips are sealed. On that note, would you like to walk to the village with me? I can tell you in detail about everything you're doing wrong to not be different. I am a professional in that area. I just don't act like it too often. If you give me time, I'll even teach you how to interact properly with others.'

He stood up, face still as unreadable as before. 'What would you demand of me in return for that knowledge?'

She ticked off another box on the mental illnesses list, before contemplating his question. She felt there was much more to it than he was letting on, which was strange. That ran counter with her main theory that he was suffering from major social and emotional dissonance.

'I don't want much,' she decided, 'but I get the feeling that you're at home in the open. How about I teach you and in return you teach me how to survive in the wild? Nothing major, just the basics. As you have seen, I'm not that good at it.'

He looked at her for a long time, until she started fidgeting and glancing around nervously. The feeling of his hand on her throat came back, unbidden and she swallowed. When he offered her his hand after an eternity she almost made a run for it. She looked into the reflective lenses of his sunglasses and the motionless face behind it.

'We have a deal.'

She gathered her courage and shook his hand. She had no idea what she was getting herself into, had no clue what kind of man Dreamer really was and part of her wondered what kind of mess she as diving head first in, but as she began picking up her tarp and ran after him, she felt confident in her choice. For the first time since she had acquired her degrees, she finally had a real, live patient.

I should be traumatised, Onoelle thought. She never had received any training in this regard; the sparring she did was Mentuc never resulted in wounds and most bruises happened because of how inhumanly hard he was rather than from the actual combat. It certainly hadn't prepared her for the moment when her best friend tried to brutally murder her after being brainwashed. At least not mentally. Yet she found her thoughts strangely calm. Trauma, even after centuries of research, was still a largely unexplored field for psychologists and psychiatrists. She looked up from her comfortable position in Mentuc's arms and smiled at him, even as his head kept turning around, constantly scanning the area. No doubt him carrying her like that had an impact on her mental state. She had never faced danger when he was around. He was an absolute force of nature, a superhuman meant for war and here he was, holding her tenderly, worrying about a simple civilian girl after she had engaged in what wouldn't even classify as a scuffle for him. They had led such vastly different lives. And yet, as she looked to the ring on his hand, they were together now. Funny how those things happened. She yawned loudly, stretching her muscles and immediately earning the attention of her ever watching husband, who placed a tender kiss on her forehead. He had been taking his time to go back home, something she was glad for. It had given her time to sort her thoughts. Most of them, at least.

'Are you alright?' she asked. She knew that he was still blaming himself, the lovable idiot, but she wouldn't tolerate that. Her mind was young, versatile and she was smart enough to be able to deal with the events before they'd become a fully fledged trauma, partially thanks to Mentuc's simple overwhelming reassurance that as long as he was there she'd be fine, come what may. His mind, on the other hand, was old and rigid. Everything that went wrong was somehow his own fault, to him. She wasn't sure how much of that was his Genesis programming and how much of that was simply him. He cared for little, but what he did care for he did so without holding back. The oaf would likely find a way to blame himself if a meteor crashed on the planet and messed up her hair in the process.

'To an extent,' he replied. 'I am glad you are doing better.'

She didn't even bat an eyelid at that. If he was alert, like he was now, his senses were sharp enough to hear her heartbeat, amongst other things. At the same time she knew him well enough to read between the lines. 'What's bothering you?'

'You do not so much attract trouble as that you actively chase it,' he said, immediately jumping to the core of the subject like usual. 'From our shared history together and from my knowledge of your actions prior to that, you often claim to know better and land yourself in perilous positions.'

That stung. 'It's not like I do it on purpose.'

'You do,' came the immediate response. 'You ignored the advice of others and went with him. You ignored the advice of your sister and your parents and stayed too long in the storm. You ignored my recommendations and stayed with Jane, alone. I should have overruled your decision. You would have been safe.'

'Hey now!' she protested. 'You're being unfair! I learned a lot every time! And if I hadn't done so, we wouldn't have known the truth about Jane being brainwashed.' She sighed, sinking deeper into his arms. 'In a way it's reassuring, you know? I didn't know what was wrong with her. At least now I know. I mean, I'm not happy with knowing she's been brainwashed or that there's something or someone out there doing the same to everyone and their dog, but at least I know now. And that it's not her fault.'

'You will not distract me,' Mentuc droned on. 'From now on you will not be left alone with Jane, or in any situation that I deem unsafe.'

She rolled her eyes. 'I can never distract you, you dolt. Your mind runs on steel tracks anyhow. And fine. I'm not happy with it, but I can agree with it.'

'Your agreement isn't a factor in this,' her husband said, a growl sneaking into his voice. She looked up at him in shock. That wasn't normal behaviour for him. Nightmare's warning flashed through her head. She had said Mentuc had been furious. Her normally emotionally unmovable husband had been furious. At the same time it irked her. She wasn't a toy or a pet he could do with as he pleased. They were equals in this marriage.

She wiggled her way out of his arms and forced him to stand still, facing him head on. 'You,' she stated, pressing her finger against his chest, 'are not my boss. You are not my superior. You are my husband. My agreement damned better be a factor in this.' She looked into his eyes, saw the fires that were raging there and knew that he was actively being emotional now, for once in a non traumatic manner. Not that she liked this anymore than those episodes.

Then she was fully in his arms and she was gasping for breath as he held her just a little too tightly. She smacked him on the back, but he didn't ease up. Then she became aware of how the hug felt. He is scared, she realised in a flash.

'No,' he whispered. He didn't say more. He didn't mean more. It was his answer. For this specific thing alone, for her safety, he would completely ignore any requests she might made, any opinions she might have. He would overrule anything she could come up with. 'You cannot be harmed,' he whispered, pulling his head back just enough so he could look into her eyes. 'No matter the cost.' There was genuine fear on his face and she was reminded of how much life had taken from him already. 'I cannot lose you, Onoelle.'

He did it again. He said it with just the right inflection to remind her just how much that word signified and she felt herself melt in his arms. He eased up slightly and she let out a deep sigh, less from relief than from the emotions running like a hot current through her body. Onoelle. The word that meant life, something worth living for. Thousands of poets and song writers and romantici had tried to do the word justice, but they all unanimously agreed that the word was an ideal that could only be chased after, never caught, like the soft summer breeze that danced through the evening sky. It was what gave life colour and taste, the thing that gave humans hope, something to dream about, aspire to and strive for. Many drama writers and young romantic teens had used the word in a bid to impress their lovers and audience, but it wasn't so cheap a word that the full meaning could be inferred so easily. When Mentuc said it, when he meant to use both the word and her name, Onoelle blossomed open from a tiny seed into a full, world covering flower. For a man so limited in his ability to express what he meant, what he could do to her with a single word was exhilarating. Titillating even.

It knocked down her defences, evaporated her argument and all she could do was wrap her limbs tightly around him, shivering as the final echoes of the word ran their course through her body. She loved him. She knew it, but sometimes the sheer strength of the emotion took her by surprise, overwhelming her in a tidal wave and drowning her in it. That feeling was always present, nestled safely deep in her heart, burning softly. And at times, when he called her name, when he called her Onoelle, he ignited that spark, nurtured it until it became an all-encompassing inferno.

She did the only thing she could do. She moved her hands up until she could grasp the back of his head and pulled him in for a long, slow and passionate kiss. As he responded to her, she felt everything else fade into the unimportant background. For a brief, blissful moment there was nothing but him and her.

When the kiss finally ended she wasn't too surprised to discover that she was on the ground, clutched tightly in his limbs. She was, however, mildly surprised —and somewhat disappointed— to find that she was still clothed. Usually whenever they started kissing like that, those things didn't stay on. Oh well. She cuddled herself deeper into his embrace.

'Fine,' she whispered, enjoying his body against her, the way its comforting presence silenced the worries of her mind. 'Not like you ever left me alone much otherwise,' she joked, smiling at him. She felt his hand press down on the back of her head and laughed. He was pleased with her response. As always, he made up for his lack of ability to express himself verbally by doing so physically. 'Is there anything else you want off your chest while I'm in your wilful prisoner?' she asked, before slowly kissing her way up and down the nape of his neck.

'There is,' he confirmed her guess. 'What will you do with Jane? Stasis is still an option.'

The kiss changed into a hard bite, letting him known he earned her displeasure. Then she sighed deeply, forcing her mind to rouse itself after being pleasantly distracted. 'I don't know,' she answered honestly. I don't know how she'll take it. I don't know how much you are willing to tell her. I don't even know what she'll actually remember from it all.'

'All of it,' Mentuc said.

Onoelle arched an eyebrow. 'Nightmare?' she asked. He nodded and she sighed, not happy with the AI listening in but at this point it was hardly a surprise. At least the alien being was being polite enough and staying out of the conversation by and large.

'What are you willing to tell her? she asked, resuming her trail of kisses on his neck, refusing to let the AI's token presence alter her behaviour.

'Nothing she does not already know. Not that I am Genesis, not that Nightmare exists,' came the unforbidding answer.

She kissed him a bit harder. 'Any chance I can persuade you otherwise?' she joked.

'No,' came the expected answer. Then, to her surprise; 'But I would appreciate you trying.'

She bit him, really hard, until his skin pulled taut under her teeth. Then he rolled on top of her, pinning her down properly. His head was tilted. 'You're not angry.' It was a statement full of confusion. She gave him a teasing grin.

'Oh, I'm not angry at all. I'm just contemplating whether I should try or not.' She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and shook her head before he would be tempted to launch a preemptive strike. 'I'm not sure, Mentuc. I think a lot of it will depend on how she will react. How do you think she will react? Did the Empire have much experience with captured, brainwashed soldiers?

He shook his head. 'We only had to deal with an enemy who could actively brainwash our troops once. Genesis was deployed after a battalion had gone missing in action there. We found the battalion and our foes simultaneously and after a short confrontation they retreated.'

'What happened to the brainwashed soldiers?'

He blinked, slowly, sadly. 'We were Genesis,' he replied softly. 'We killed them.'

She let out a deep sigh. 'Well that killed the mood. Come on, soldier boy. Let's get up and go to see Cassy before she burns the house down trying to make pancakes. We'll deal with Jane tomorrow. Let her wake up inside the house and see how it goes from there.'

Mentuc got up first, lightly jumping to his feet, before pulling her up and putting her back in his arms before she could blink.

'I can walk,' she said, pointedly.

'That is true. It is also true that I can carry you.'

She sighed, then laughed. 'You oaf. Go on then.'

'We can create fake scars. Imprint phantom pain. Or omit the full truth about how hurt she was and how much she has hurt you,' he offered, clearly not yet willing to consider the subject closed off. 'Nightmare can implant new memories.'

'The fake scars might be an option,' Onoelle mused. 'But I'm not going to let Nightmare take her brain apart again.'

Mentuc's face remained carefully neutral when he spoke. 'I think it would be most unwise and unlikely of her to ask me how much she has hurt you.'

She smiled at him. 'Bit overprotective, are you?'

He looked at her, a deep, intense look and then opened his mouth. She kissed him, hard and quick. 'If you say my name like that again, stars above, I swear I will pin you to the ground and we're not reaching home until the moon is out. You keep your mouth shut, am I clear?'

'Crystal.'

They kept discussing Jane on the way until they finally reached home and to Onoelle's surprise it didn't smell of burnt pancakes, even if Mentuc softly voiced a complaint that the proportions were all wrong. When they entered, Cassy immediately abandoned the stove and catapulted herself onto her sister with enough force that Mentuc had to intervene lest she'd end up with another concussion. After a minor bit of back and forth banter about the pancakes, which Cassy was doing a fair bit of grandstanding about until Onoelle threatened to eat them herself, the younger girl found her courage and asked the question that had been burning on her lips for the past hours.

'What happened with Jane?'

Mentuc kept diplomatically quiet, wisely deciding to let his wife do the talking. 'We had a disagreement', she smoothly said. 'We still need to talk more, but she's asleep now and we'll continue our talk tomorrow. She'll be sleeping outside the house tonight.'

Cassy nodded. 'Are you still angry at her?' That question was aimed at Mentuc and Onoelle regarded her husband carefully, reading his limited body language.

'I am not,' he said.

'Is it because Leonne told you not to be?' she asked, with all the innocence of a young teenager who genuinely had no idea how blunt she was being. Onoelle turned around, trying to hide her laughter in a loud cough, which worsened when her husband replied with a simple 'yes'. Cassy was young, but stars above the girl shared her blood, that was sure. She could read Mentuc frighteningly well.

'That's good then. Can you help me with pancakes now?'

And that was it. The discussion Onoelle had feared was over before it had well and truly begun. Her sister seemed perfectly content to let adults be adults, going only far enough to make sure that everyone was well, before turning her attentions to far more important matters. Such as pancakes. By the void, the girl had developed a minor addiction to the damn things. Mentuc joined the teen at the stove while she began setting the table. When the pancakes were done, Mentuc and Cassy had a minor spat over who was going to eat which pancakes, with Mentuc insisting that Cassy ate the ones she herself had made, with the girl desperately trying to convince him of the opposite. In the end the debate was cut short when Onoelle stole a pancake, one of Mentuc's of course, and began eating it, much to her sister's chagrin.

It was a calm, quiet evening, almost surreal given the events of the day. She laughed at herself for thinking, once upon a time, that she would eventually get used to the strange things happening around Mentuc. They finished dinner, washed the plates and bickered and bantered throughout it all, as sisters should. When the sun finally began its final descent, Cassy surprised her by stating that she would be the one sleeping outside for once. Onoelle protested at first, but found an unexpected opponent in Mentuc, who agreed with Cassy's reasoning that since she was alone, it should be her who slept outside. In the end she relented, although she made her sister promise to not go too far out. Then she sent Mentuc out after her sister to help with setting up the tent, knowing fully well that he wouldn't venture far from her.

While he was busy doing that, she hit up the shower, luxuriating in the stream of hot water running down her body as her mind was inexorably drawn back to her fight with Jane. The memories felt dull now and she vaguely wondered if Nightmare hadn't done more than just 'heal' her concussion after all. They should still be fresh, raw and unpleasant to touch. Not vague, as if time had already ground down the edges.

Jane, she thought. She felt sorry for her friend, nothing but a pawn used by the powers that be. Perhaps not even that. Then her mind went to Nightmare's theory. She felt fear cling to her heart. If something out there was so determined to wipe out anything related to the Empire, then Mentuc's incredibly aggressive behaviour to anything that threatened to reveal his existence suddenly made a lot more sense. And for better or worse, she was tied to him now, with everything that entailed. She doubted she'd sleep well for the coming weeks. Stars above, if anyone even as much suspected that a survivor of the war was here... Her mind went to assassins and other dark places, the perfect mindset to be in when Mentuc stealthily snuck into the shower and embraced her from behind.

'I... Fucking… Hate you...' she gasped after an eternity, feeling her heart pounding like mad. She tried to turn around so she could glare angrily at him, only to discover that he wasn't letting her go. Instead he moved slowly, his fingers tracing alongside the lines of her body, forcing her to shiver in delight despite her anger. She sighed.

'I'm scared, Mentuc. I don't think I ever understood just how much danger you were in.'

'Nothing has changed,' he reassured her. 'I am in no more danger now than I was before.' He reached out and grabbed the nozzle, wetting her hair with tender care.

'Maybe,' she admitted. 'But I never knew. Not until now.'

'I am s—' he began, before falling silent. Good, she thought. Or I'd have to punch him again. She loved him dearly, but his habit to blame himself for everything drove her up the walls at times.

Sensing her annoyance, he picked up the shampoo bottle and started rubbing it into her long, soft hair. She cooed happily as his fingers danced across her scalp. 'If you're ever tired of being a farmer,' she sighed dreamily, 'you could start a beauty salon for the rich. People'd pay a fortune for this.' She leaned back against him, closing her eyes, perfectly content to let him work his magic. He took his time, but eventually he ran out of hair, much to her dismay, but rather than push her up she heard him pick up something else. She smelled oranges and realised he had picked up the body gel. She relaxed deeper against his chest. She could live with that, stars above. His hands returned to her body, starting at the shoulders, before descending in a slow, meticulous dance that lulled her body in a state of delightful relaxation. One by one her dark thoughts were washed away in soap, water and bubbles. There was only so much relaxation one could endure before it grew too much, especially when she could feel his muscles move underneath her in great detail. Subtly, bit by bit, she started a dance of her own, trying to lure his fingers away from where he put them and seduce them to where she wanted them to be. When he refused to budge she let out a soft whine and he kissed her lips, reassuring her with his gentle touch. She fell quiet again and let him begin the lengthy process of rinsing her off. She began to focus on the now again, relishing in his gentle, insistent touch. Revelling in the minute detail he spent to every little crook and nanny. She moaned when he turned her around and reinforced the care of his hands with the gentle touch of his lips. He kept it brief though, even if it left her panting softly.

She looked him in the eye, feeling open, naked, vulnerable and thoroughly in love with the man holding her so softly, so carefully. She saw his eyes, gazed deeply into them, drank in the sight of a single lens focusing on her and the other two darting around close beside it, all looking at her. She felt his breath press softly on her skin and shivered in pure delight.

'Who am I?' she whispered, the sound barely making it out of the running water. She didn't look away from him, ignored the crystal droplets that ran down across his naked skin. She waited patiently, hungrily, for the one word that would never cease to set her heart aflame.

He looked at her, a thousand and one unspoken emotions visible in his eyes, in his touch, in the way his fingers traced her skin. Words and thoughts he could not voice, she felt them through his tender caress. Right now Nightmare didn't matter. Jane didn't matter. The world didn't matter. Only her husband did, and the way he looked at her.

Then he said the word and her soul fell into his as he whispered her name and the key to her heart.

'Onoelle.'

Later, when she no longer knew where she ended and he began, sleep came for her and found her easily, letting her drift off in a dreamless sleep, protected by a tender embrace.