“Ra… Wa…”

…

I ran through the twisting alleys and corridors of the Otherside, Yorathan bleeding out in my arms. I ignored the searing pain radiating out of my chest and just… kept…. running. Yorathan reached up and touched my chest with a trembling hand, and I felt agony. A tear from my eye landed on his small hand, and I gritted my teeth.

“Hold on, damn it,” I pleaded in a raspy voice. “Just hold on. We’ve almost lost them.”

“Raz, stop,” he started to say, his voice hoarse.

“We’re so close,” I cut in, ignoring the taste of blood in my mouth, “Just hold on for a minute longer.”

The [Full-Restore Injectors] I had were useless. The smoking hole in his abdomen was too big, too severe. I’d already used every healing item I had that didn’t sap the injured person’s stamina, and the best I could do was to stymy the blood loss a little. If I used an injector, the healing process would kill him. “As soon as we get to safety, I can heal you. I have the set bo-”

“Raz. Stop.” Yora repeated, and his voice caused me to look down into his golden eyes. There was pain in there. Pain, grief, and a steely determination. A conviction that brought me up short. He smiled at me, a faint smile marred by the rivulets of blood running from his mouth.

The adrenaline ran out. I couldn’t run anymore. Breathing was too hard.

Breathing was hard…? Why?

I looked at where Yorathan was touching.

Oh.

There was a smoking hole in my chest.

I fell to my knees, Yora cradled in my arms.

I had to activate [Rust’s Embrace]. I had to heal him. To save him. I would save him. Even if it meant dying. I triggered the subroutine, targeting Yorathan.

Nothing happened.

What? Why? It couldn’t be on cooldown. I checked before the mi-

I looked at Yorathan. At his determined eyes and his hand on my chest. Every cell in my body shrieked with horror as I realized what he was doing. He was a Codebreaker.

He’d hacked into my armor’s subroutines.

“Yora, no. No! Stop!” I wheezed, each word a struggle against the agony.

He activated [Rust’s Embrace].

A red cloud enveloped me. No, this couldn’t be happening. This was a nightmare. A joke. The final misfires of a dying brain. This was not real. Please. This could not be real.

The wound in my chest started to close with terrible speed, the flesh visibly stitching itself back together. My vision got blurry as tears ran down my cheeks.

“It has only one charge,” I said, my voice cracking.

“I know,” he said with a smile.

“Then, why?” I choked out, the words barely a whisper.

He snorted and looked at me like I was an idiot. “Because I love you, dumbass.”

“I can’t do this without you,” I croaked out.

Yora’s eyes started losing focus.

Please. No.

“Doesn’t matter, Big Bear.” His breathing was getting raspy. “You’ll have to find a way. I know you can. Take care of Hob for me, will you?”

This was the first time he had called me Big Bear since we ran away from home. Since we escaped our parents.

I remember the first day we met. The first day of his life. The pressure of his tiny hands around my forefinger. He’d grabbed my finger tight and locked eyes with me. At that moment, I knew I would do anything to protect him.

And now he was dying in my arms.

I closed my eyes and rested my forehead against my baby brother’s, the tears unceasing. “I will, Little Bear, I promise.”

“Good,” he whispered. “Tell Vivi I’m sorry I’ll miss our date.”

“I will.”

“Be good…” he breathed out.

“I will.” A sob wrenched from my throat, raw and unbidden, as his hand slipped from my chest and dropped into a puddle of his blood.

With a trembling voice, I started singing a lullaby our mother would sing. An echo of a memory of happier days. His eyes slowly closed. His chest stopped moving.

I cradled my baby brother’s lifeless body in my arms. The absurdity of the situation made a laugh bubble out of me. I laughed and laughed, and then I screamed. I looked up and howled in rage and in grief until my throat was bloody and raw.

…

“WH… DI… ..OU D……O M… BR…TH... Y…U ..AS..RD”

…

I stumbled through the streets in a daze. Everything was wrong. Everything hurt.

“Do it, you coward. Let it all end,” a part of me whispered, but I knew I couldn’t. I’d made a promise.

I reached our hab unit and froze outside our door. What would I tell her? What could I tell her?

I knew it was all over.

I clenched my jaw and clamped down on the urge to run, to disappear. Silvie deserved more than that.

I opened the door and entered our home.

I could hear Silvie in the shower, singing loudly. I stopped and closed my eyes, carving the sound of her singing into my soul. Taking a deep breath, I walked past our living room and headed to the kitchen.

“Greetings, sir,” Hob said, traces of emotions in his voice. He was evolving. Yora had... Yora…

I punched myself in the stomach. Don’t fall apart. Not yet. You are not done yet.

“Sir?” Hob asked, sounding mildly confused. I ignored the machine and went to the fabricator, ordering a glass of whiskey, the strongest the fab could legally make. I downed the entire glass, the burning in my throat barely noticeable above the terrible, empty numbness I felt.

I downed a second glass, grabbed a third, headed to the living room, and ignored Hob’s repeated questions. I collapsed on my armchair and stared at the glass.

Beyond the glass of whiskey and the swirling amber liquid, I could see little slips of paper on our coffee table. Our wedding invitations. We were going to start sending them out soon.

I was going to be sick.

Silvie finished with her shower and headed to our bedroom. I could hear her still humming happily as she changed.

I let her have a few more moments of joy before everything was ripped away. Tears started running down my cheeks again, but I had no strength to move. All I could do was stare at those little cards.

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

I heard the slap of her bare feet on the floor get louder as she walked into our living room, dressed in her teal shirt and striped leggings. She jumped, startled at me being there. Her face broke into a bright smile as soon as she saw me. “Raz? Why didn’t you tell me you came home? Did Yora’s lessons end early?” That was the last time I ever saw her smile like that.

Then she took me in, the anguish in my eyes, the bloodstains barely visible on my red armor. The tears. The smile disappeared.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, her voice filled with concern, tinged with an edge of fear.

I struggled to form the words, my voice a broken whisper. "Yora... he's gone, Silvie. He's gone..."

“Gone? What do you mean? Did he skip out on his class?” She took a hesitant step closer.

I shook my head, getting my trembling limbs under control. “Orelia she… She sent us on a mission.”

“A mission?” Silvie said, panic starting to rise in her voice. “What are you talking about?”

“It was supposed to be the perfect opportunity to take a monster out and save countless people.” my hands tightened. “It was a trap.” The glass shattered in my hand, whiskey spilled on the floor, and shards of glass cut into my flesh. I couldn’t feel anything.

“What? I don’t understand,” she said, staring at me with disbelief.

I felt a surge of despair, the memory of Yorathan's last moments flooding my mind. "We... we got shot, Silvi. Bad. Real bad. One of us was going to die. I tried to use my set bonus on him, but he hacked into the armor.” Silvie raised her hands to her mouth and gasped. “He redirected the subroutine to me. I held him... I held him as he bled out. He saved me. He saved me and died for it."

Her face crumpled, tears flowing from her eyes as she stared at me, horrified. “No. That can’t be. You’re lying. You’re fucking lying.”

“I’m sorry.” I shook my head, staring at the floor, unable to meet her eyes anymore. “I’m so sorry.”

“Why did you not tell me about the mission?” She said in a trembling voice. “We are supposed to be a team. I could have helped. I could…”

“Orelia told me not to tell you,” I said bitterly.

“And you listened to her?” her voice started rising. “Why?” she asked with a sob.

Where would I even begin, “Silvie, you don’t…”

“Why?” She interrupted me, louder.

I was so tired. “Please just…”

“TELL ME WHY!” She screamed and slashed in the air, her metal strings lashing out of her hand, carving deep furrows into the walls.

Something inside me snapped, and I stared at her with rage.

“BECAUSE IT WAS YOUR FATHER!” I screamed right back and got to my feet, crunching the remains of the glass under my boots.

Silvina went pale and froze.“What?” She asked in a small, frightened voice.

All the fire went out of me. “It…” My shoulders slumped. “It was your father, Silvie. The mission was to kill Varhas Corax, the Searing Butcher.”

“You went to claim the bounty on my father, and he… killed Yorathan?” She asked, her breathing starting to come faster and faster.

I nodded and looked away. “The bastard laughed while he shot him.”

“No, that can’t be… But he…” She let out a wordless scream and turned, swiping her hands through the air, carving large chunks out of our walls and furniture. She turned to me, her eyes wild, full of pain, loss, and rage. “No… No. This is all your fault.” She was trembling.

My fault. That's right.

My fucking fault.

“I know,” was all I could say.

Silvina’s voice grew cold as her gaze filled with hatred. “I never want to see you again.”

“I know.”

She turned and walked out of our home, still barefoot.

The door slammed behind her.

She never returned.

…

The dream faded away, leaving behind pain. My eyes fluttered open. I hadn’t seen those nightmares in days, and now they were back clearer than ever.

I groaned, my body hurting all over.

“Wh- Razel?” A sleepy voice said. I looked to my left and found Zuri blearily looking at me, covered in a fluffy pink blanket, having been roused from her sleep on the chair.

Where was I? I looked around and saw only white sterile walls and teal floor tiles. A machine next to me beeped. I looked at the wires running from the machine to me. I was in a hospital?

Zuri shook her head, throwing the blanket away, and jumped to her feet. “Razel? What? How?” She shook her head before I could muster up any words and ran out of the room screaming. “Silver, he’s awake!”

Silver? Ah. I was in the Orphanage. I fell back down and stared at the ceiling, the dull ache of the nightmares still throbbing in my chest.

“Razel? Razel, oh Rings,” Silver said as she and Zuri ran into the room. “How are you awake? With your injuries and the medications I gave you, you should have been out for another week.”

“How long was I out?” I croaked, my throat feeling dry.

“Four days. Razel, thank the Rings you had only taken one injection of Full-Restore.” She handed me a long, clear tube, and I bit down on it, greedily drinking the water flowing through it. When I had had enough, I bit down on the tube again, closing it. “I thought I was going to cause an overdose to keep you alive enough to make the trip here.”

“You thought you were going to give me a restoration overdose, but you did it anyway?” I said, smiling sardonically.

“Razel,” Zuri said, “You were… You were hurt. What happened?”

I fell back on the pillow and stared at the ceiling. I was so tired. “How bad was I?” I asked, ignoring Zuri’s question.

“Let’s see…” A squeaky voice said from the doorway. I lifted my head and saw no one. With great effort, I bent my waist, using my elbows as support, and finally saw who was talking. Miralia. “When you got here, you were ten, no, five minutes from kicking the bucket.” said the little red-haired girl.

“Hey, Miralia,” I said, giving her a weak smile.

“Hey, hey!” She said, enthusiastically waving her hand, her wrist completely limp, so her hand just sort of… flailed around.

“You were really hurt. Like, wow. I wasn’t sure you had the strength to survive the healing. Third-degree burns all over your body, deep-tissue electrical burns, neurological damage…” The little girl listed my grizzly injuries as if she were listing off a food order. “Lacerations, your right thigh was a mess, woof. Oh, and let’s not forget-”

“Well,” I cut her off, her rapid talking causing a faint throbbing pain to emerge in the back of my head. “I’m glad you saved me,” I said with a grateful nod.

“Me too!” She said, nodding enthusiastically back. “Both times you got hurt, Sister Silver looked really sad, and when she’s sad, she’s not as likely to give us double servings of pudding. I really like pudding, but Georgina said that the pudding makes you dumber, but I’m smart, and I eat pudding, so she’s dumb.”

“Okay,” Silver said, raising her voice and stopping the girl who seemed to be building up steam for a truly legendary rant. “That’s enough, Miralia,” she gave the girl a sweet smile that froze the kid in place. She reached into her pocket and produced a small plastic chip. “How about you go to the mess hall and get yourself another pudding?”

The little girl gasped in shock. “Triple pudding day?”

Silver somberly nodded. “Triple pudding day.”

Miralia ran over to Silver, snatched the chip from her hand, and immediately bolted out of the room, shrieking excitedly.

“What a peculiar child,” Zuri said bemused.

“Yeah. Good kid.” With trepidation, I looked at the window that had opened once Mirilia got closer to my bed. “Strange, but good,” I muttered and laid back down with a grunt.

Silver sighed and shook her head. “Yeah, sorry about that. Miralia is… special.” Zuri raised an eyebrow at Silver. “She was found top-side five years ago by one of our agents, wandering the empty streets of Sector 38.”

“Sector 38, five years ago? Why does that sound familiar? Wait…” Zuri gasped and put her hand on her mouth. “The Dusting? But… There were no survivors.”

Silver winced. “That's the official story. The truth is, out of the 1.5 million people who lived in Sector 38, there was, in fact, a single survivor.”

“But… How?” Zuri asked.

Silver shrugged and shook her head. “We don't know. All we know is that an agent of ours stuck in the quarantine zone sent us a message about a “holy child” who was immune to the plague and was going around easing people’s pain. At first, we thought he was just at the final stages of the Dusting, but then more reports started mentioning her.”

Silver walked over to the machine next to me and started writing down something on a tablet. “Towards the end, the few people that were still alive and sane banded together and locked the little girl in a room along with containers of food, water, and books enough to last someone two years. Half a year later, nobody else was left alive, and the quarantine zone went down.”

Zuri looked troubled and looked at Silver intensely. “Our agent, before dying, had given us her location. We found her asleep, surrounded by medical texts. We picked her up and brought her here. Even at five years old, she could identify most injuries at a glance and had medical knowledge far beyond her years. She's also one of the strongest Lodestones in recorded history.”

“You should keep an eye on her, both of you,” I said, and they both looked down at me with matching raised eyebrows and then up to each other. As if in sync, they shrugged. “Any particular reason aside from the ones already mentioned?” Silver asked.

“Just a hunch,” I said, dismissing the window I’d been staring at.

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“Onto more pressing matters,” I grunted. “Where’s Farrah?”

“Farrah, she’s…” Silver said hesitatingly. “She left, Raz.”

“More like you threatened to eject and blacklist her if she tried breaking down or hacking into the door of Razel’s room one more time,” Zuri said with a sad smile. “Only then did she relent.”

Silver shook her head. “She was scaring the children. Just because she used to live here doesn’t mean she’s exempt from the rules. Even bringing her here, when she has not been authorized for it, was a privilege.”

“Is she okay?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

Zuri shook her head. “She was… Beyond angry, Razel. She kept screaming about how you killed her brother and wouldn’t listen to reason.”

I sighed. “Fucking perfect. Aren?”

“Safe and sound,” Silver said. “With his gang dissolving, we were able to take him in. He’ll have a home here for the next two years.”

“Good,” I said, relief flooding my body and relaxing my tensed muscles. My eyelids starting to feel heavy.

“Raz, do you want to tell us what happened?” Silver asked hesitantly.

I turned to her and gave her a sad smile. “Your father tried to kill me. Again.”