A deep sense of melancholy settles down in my chest, smothering both the fear and excitement I'd normally be experiencing right now. I'm not inherently upset to be going on this mission, but these are also the first “real” goodbyes I've ever had to do. Quite literally half of my life has been under a bubble that no one can leave; there simply wasn't an opportunity.

I'm also probably pouting since it means I don't get to see what I'm fairly confident is my new girlfriend for over a week. We didn’t explicitly say that we're dating, but, like, it’s implied, right?

As I'm chewing on that, I watch Jack and his men settle down, lining up in perfectly arranged rows as I approach.

“They aren’t saluting me, right?” I ask in my head. “Cause that'd be weird.”

“Considering your company, they wouldn’t dare not to.”

I don’t even get a chance to ask what that means, the gloved hand of his answer tightly gripping my shoulder.

“Finished your heartfelt goodbyes, Vanguard?” Eclipse says from behind me, her stone-grindingly rough voice mocking the word “heartfelt” with nothing but tone.

Her grip stings a little, and even if I don't think it’s intentional, I avoid reacting in a way that would let her know.

“Yeah, my brother gave me a super sweet gift,” I say, turning up the innocent condescension in my own tone. “It's really wonderful having a sibling who cares so much about you, am I right?”

I know it's immature, but hearing her mock the bonds I have with my loved ones makes me want to go after her own broken ones.

Her bark of a laugh does invalidate my efforts somewhat, though.

“You didn't have quite this much spunk last time we spoke; maybe having something rummage upstairs actually did you some good.” She growls, poking my forehead. “A word of advice, though: If you intend to hurt, aim for a wound, not a scar.”

Perhaps I should just be thankful my words weren’t enough to actually piss her off; I've been warned plenty how dangerous she can be. Her hand releases my shoulder as she walks past me, and I force myself to repress the sigh of relief that results from it.

“You lot look pretty lively for a bunch of corpses. Got somethin’ to be excited about?” She asks them, hands on her hips.

“We've gotten to see our precious drill sergeant princess carried by Miss Amalgam and chased about like a prey animal by you. That's about the extent of our bucket lists.” Jack answers with a grin, the chorus of guffaws and cheers clearly showing the rest of the old men share his sentiment.

I can't see her expression since her back is to me, but her permanently stiff shoulders do seem to ease a bit seeing them in good cheer. Is she only nice to people older than fifty? No, Catherine is definitely older than that. Perhaps it's a case-by-case kind of thing.

A shadow crosses over me, causing me to look up and watch as a refrigerator-sized drone buzzes past us, shifts vertically, and lands quietly no more than two meters from Eclipse and me. Its boxy exterior unfolds, spreading across the ground like a metallic platform and revealing the hourglass-shaped contraption within.

It sits there a moment before Eclipse kicks the edge of the metal platform, taunting it, “Are you going to come out or do we have to figure out this hunk of garbage ourselves?”

Said hunk of garbage lets out a crackling sigh, and Chassis’ metallic form rises from the silver surface as if it were a staircase and not a solid piece of flooring.

“I had assumed a tutorial unnecessary; I apologize for overestimating you,” he says, his ever-horrible half-a-head only moving enough to show body language.

“Not all of us are quite as in touch with our Fathom sides,” she retorts, her eyes giving off a faint glow as she looks at him with disgust. “Though that applies to most of the freakshow that is Barbeau City's Vanguard.”

Rude. Though somewhat accurate.

Chassis doesn't deign her with a response, tapping rapidly at the device he brought with him. “I didn't bother naming it due to its short-lived intentions, but it is pre-calibrated and will attach itself to the ship automatically. All you must do is carry it there and let it do its job.”

I'm sure Eclipse and I share the same thought process, but unlike me, she says it out loud.

“That doesn't tell us jack shit; what does it even do?” she asks, her arms crossed irritably.

Chassis stands stock still, his expressionless half-face somehow still getting across the message of “That’s the part you're stuck at?” without moving.

His sigh sounds like a muffled, rattling vent as he turns to me, “Vanguard Amalgam, please approach with the compass you were provided.”

compascompascompa-oh, the marble thing!

I stick my fingers into the magic pouch Menagerie gave me, the compass appearing within my grasp as soon as I think about it. It feels as terrifyingly fragile as ever, but I still walk up to my metallic superior and offer it up to him.

Unexpectedly, though, his freezing cold hand grabs my wrist, guiding it toward the hourglass machine as it splits in half and floats the top part just high enough that the compass could fit inside.

His voice, at a volume even I can barely hear, whispers: “Bring the girl back to us. She is far more important than a corpse.”

I'm so jarred by the experience that I barely pay attention to the machine as it whirrs and spins, lights coming on as it detects which way the compass is pointing. Was there that sort of bond between him and Naomi? I suppose he was kinder to her when we first met, but I've never seen them together since. Books and covers, I suppose.

“It will serve as a guidance system for as long as you can safely remain airborne, though you will have to guide them yourself once you’re forced to set down in the remains of Miami City,” he states, loud enough everyone can hear him this time. “And unless there is anything else, I will be returning to my lab.”

Not giving anyone a chance to provide that “anything else,” his form slumps, melting back into the floor like he was never here.

“Bizarre as always, but at least his work is top-of-the-line,” Jack laughs, his smile making him look deceptively young for his age. “Evans, Pollard, load the device onto the ship.”

The two men, whom I assume are the ones he called out, step forward, crossing their arms in a seatbelt shape across their chests as they salute him. I'm stereotyping a bit, but I really feel like the one with the thin pencil mustache is Pollard.

“The airship isn't here yet, Captain. There's nowhere to load it,” he reports, his aged features making the serious expression on his face look like an irate one instead.

Wait, if the ship isn't ready, why am I over here instead of hanging out with Sydney a little longer? I glare at Evans, not having anyone to actually attribute blame to and thus attributing it at random.

He seems to notice, his bushy brows raising in concern until Jack speaks again.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“It's here. My pilot's never late, after all.”

As if on cue, the sound of crashing water reaches our ears—a massive bulge of water rising from between the largest section of empty docks. I can't see it, but my mind fills in the gaps, guided by the water streaming off its wings and hull.

It's easily three times the size of my house, dwarfing any of the other vessels in the water. There aren't any visible outlines of engines, but I do see what looks to be a railing on the top with a little overhang behind it.

“This isn't anything new for you all, quit gawkin already,” Jack commands, spooking me out of my own stupor despite his comment not being directed at me.

The ship finally flickers, a similar—if not the same—cloaking ability as my dad's car fading from its exterior as it sets down on thick, segmented legs. Hexagons make up its bottom, connecting to each other and displaying the scarcely clouded sky above us. Some sort of redundancy, I suppose.

“Move it, tentacles. That ship can't go anywhere without you, and it's set to leave in ten minutes,” Eclipse growls, getting behind me and pushing on my back with her palm.

I try to look behind me, past her, but her wide shoulders block any view of the family and friends I'm leaving behind. Her expression tells me it's intentional.

“You seem quite used to this,” I state, letting her hand push me forward toward the ship's now open ramp.

“Seeing them while still on the ground will just make it harder to leave. You can look all you want once we're on the ship.”

That hardly seems like a response to what I said, but it does answer what I was actually thinking.

The ramp clangs beneath our steps, becoming louder as Evans and Polard catch up to us, the hourglass device on their shoulders. They're astoundingly fast for sixty-something-year-olds.

“On yer left, ladies,” the one I'm still only assuming is Evans says to us, pointedly avoiding my gaze. This is really getting to him, isn’t it?

I should apologize to him later.

The ship's interior is bare; rubber floor mats and blue handrails the only decorations down the hallway's entire length. It's surprisingly normal for something Vanguard brand, and I can only be thankful that it wasn't Chassis who designed it.

The older Vanguard seems to agree, sighing, “Old ones, what a breath of fresh air this thing is. Must've been made before the crafters started getting that eldritch itch they all seem to.”

“It's a trend? That's disconcerting.” I mumble, my head on a swivel as I walk up the stairs to the second floor. “Isn't this thing kind of big for how many people we're bringing? Its fuel usage must be absurd.”

There seem to be three floors in total, with part of the top floor serving as an outside deck of sorts, the place where I saw the railing from earlier.

“There are smaller ships, but they tend to get eaten if they fly too far away from the bubble.” She comments, opening the thick steel door to the cockpit. “Bigger ships do too, frankly, but Fathom tend to leave alone anything they can’t unhinge their jaw and fit around.”

Eaten? Like all at once? A bit of sweat forms on my palms, and I am notably less confident about the trip now. No, it’s fine. I just have to maintain the ship-to-mouth ratio.

The image of a giant maw clamping down on the ship doesn’t leave my mind, but I do lean into the open doorway Eclipse is standing in, taking a look around.

“Ahh! Soleil Noir!” A dark-skinned woman rises from her seat, striding towards the Vanguard next to me with an open-armed enthusiasm unmatched by literally anyone who I’ve seen interact with her before this. “It is not often you l'honneur my ship with your glow, mon ami, are you to ride with us today?”

It’s hard to tell how Eclipse feels about the exchange, unphased as she is. “Just for a short stretch, this time. I’m here to punch a hole in the bottom feeders before sending you all off.”

If she’s disappointed, the Cajun woman doesn’t show it at all, her teeth bared in a wide smile. “Then luck shall be ours the whole way, I’m certain.”

She looks considerably younger than someone I’d expect Jack to call “my pilot,” but I also can’t get a good read on her age just by looking at her either. There are wrinkles on her face, but they blend so effortlessly into the joy on her expression that it’s difficult to tell.

Her gaze flicks to me without releasing Eclipse's forearms. “And what of this one? La petite avant-garde I keep hearing of, yes? She is cuter than the rumors.”

“Oh, um, thank you!” I blurt, having trouble keeping pace with the words I don't recognize. “You’re very cute yourself.”

She blinks, evidently not expecting “cute” to be the descriptor I used. In fairness, I didn’t expect it either. “You’re very cute she says! Aha! Norma, I am cute!”

The sound of a dull clang answers her excited call, followed by a muffled expletive that frankly doesn’t make any sense. A panel on the floor shifts upward, revealing dirty blonde hair on one half of a shaven had. “Giselle, honey, that’s wonderful. I still have to switch the wiring down here to match your personal controls, though, so I can’t talk right now.”

Her brown eyes move to me and Eclipse, giving us a quick nod before slipping back beneath the floor. What a whirlwind this has been.

“You cut the timing pretty close there, Giselle. Almost made me eat my words,” Jack’s smooth voice complains good-naturedly behind us. “Greetings, Vanguards. You should head up top for when we depart, it’s a good day for it.”

Oh, good, I’ll actually get to wave goodbye to everyone. I was worried I’d get stuck in here as we left. “That’s a good idea. It’s been great meeting you, Giselle!”

“And you, avant-garde! Come visit me once we’re going, yeah.”

She gets to talking with Jack, so me and Eclipse climb the final set of stairs, exiting into the open air on top of the ship. I immediately rush to the railing, looking down at the tiny figures below.

My family is still down there—save for dad—and they seem to have grouped up with Duff and Catherine, talking about something. I don't see Sydn—oh wait, she’s back on the wall we were talking by before. Doesn’t her butt hurt?

I’d wave to her, but she doesn’t seem to be looking up here right now, and I don’t plan on looking pathetic in front of Eclipse. My eyes catch on Revision and Menagerie, and a question pops into my mind.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you, the director, or Chassis in your ascendant forms. Is it just, like, too powerful or something?” I ask, turning to her. Hopefully, that’s not something sensitive.

One of her thin, gray eyebrows raises, looking me over. “This is the timing in which you ask that?”

“I’ve had an exceptionally busy month. It didn’t come up.”

Her grunt is dismissive, which gets me a little heated. I’m narrowing down the people she isn’t inherently rude to, but I still don’t know why I’m not one of them.

“I’ve only really got an answer to two of those, as I don't know shit about tin-man, and I also don’t really care to.”

Charming. I wait for her to continue, but she just leans forward against the railing, looking down at the people silently.

What?

That was totally a segway into you explaining the parts that you do know; why on earth would you just stop talking at that point? My frustration is put on pause as the ship lurches, forcing me to grip the railing to avoid losing my balance.

The ship's legs retract, and I can feel us steadily rising into the air, our departure time arriving all too soon. I look back down at Sydney, abandoning any pride that holds me back as I wave both my arms wildly to catch her attention.

I get worried as she looks around, searching the ship's windows to look for me, but my waving does finally catch her attention, and she hops off her wall to wave her arms back. Forcing the stupid grin off of my face, I form my tentacles into a heart until embarrassment outweighs my giddiness, but I got my message across.

Ahhh what a bizarre feeling this is.

The ship moves forward as I wave at my family and new friends. By the time we reach the edge of the bubble, my arms are sore and all I can make out of them are little unrecognizable dots. Old ones, I miss them already.

“You can stop waving, even I couldn’t see you at this point.” Eclipse grunts from my left.

I leave my arms up just a little longer before lowering them, the aches pulsing within them waiting till now to really hit me. “Yeah, I know.”

We go silent, nothing but the sound of the air rushing past our ears disturbing us. It’s kind of nice, and allows me to feel lonely in peace.

“...You wanted to hear about why we don’t enter our ascendant forms?”

Damn it. I would have preferred if you told me when you mentioned it earlier.

She doesn’t wait for my answer, explaining, “Cat’s issues stem from a psionic wound, I’m sure she’ll tell you the details if you ask, but the long and short of it is that she can’t anymore.”

I’m not sure if she’s keeping the details to herself out of consideration or because she simply doesn’t care to talk about her sister, so I’ll assume the first. “I see, what about yourself?”

She chews on her cheek for a moment, looking conflicted before she replies, “I’ve got a strange relationship with mine, but I can use it just fine. It’s just—fuck it, it’ll be easier to show you.“

My breath catches in my throat as she lifts her arms from her sides, palms upward as chthonic energy at a scale I've never seen spreads from her chest.

At first, I can't tell what's happening, but it doesn't take long for me to notice the glow spreading from the center of her chest to the tips of her limbs. Wrinkles and scars fade from her skin, slimming her frame and sharpening her features to the point of unrecognizability. Her clothes split and warp soon after, becoming robe-like and flowing from her as if alive.

Within moments, it's as if I'm looking at her sister instead of her, their features nearly identical, save for the sharpness of her eyes and an aura I have trouble calling anything but divinity.

Something only enhanced as two dark circles rise from the corners of her eyes, crossing over and resting on top of the golden suns her pupils have become.

I flinch and look away, the light peeking from behind the darkness somehow so much brighter than her eyes before they were covered.

“How about a staring contest?” She jokes, the sound of her laugh reminiscent of wind chimes. “I'm kidding, avoid looking into my eyes unless you want to damage your own.”

Blinking my eyes to remove the hollow circle burned into my retina, I try to reconcile her with the person who was standing in front of me not even a minute ago.

I succeed at neither.

Squinting as I look at her lips instead of her eyes, I ask, “This feels like more than an outfit change and a power spike if I'm being honest. Aren't you like a completely different person at this point?”

Her lips don't part, but her smile feels too impactful to not have had any teeth involved. “You noticed quick. Though, I suppose that's not all that surprising with how much I've changed.”

Even though she says “changed” as if she’s talking about the difference between her ascendant form and her normal self, I feel like she means it in another way entirely.

She looks at me knowingly—not that I can see her eyes—before turning on her heel and walking toward the bow of the ship.

“Care to guess the reason? I'll reward you if you get it right.”

I do like rewards… But can I trust one from her? Hmmm…

“Is it related to your beef with the director?” I ask, the dopamine-seeking part of my brain easily crushing the cautious part.

Even her snort is graceful as she reacts to my response, which is ridiculous.

“You're technically right, but that's the vague answer most people already know,” she says, her feet lifting from the ship's surface as she begins to float above it. “The more detailed version involves how we gain our powers in the first place; I assume they taught you how that works, at least?”

She looks back at me as she asks, forcing me to look away, which is growing to be a little humiliating.

“It stems from the desire we feel strongest at the moment of our ascension, right?” I answer, wrapping my hair around my eyes and facing where I think her head is.

“Correct. And I happened to be dealing with a mess of an inferiority complex at the time,” She admits, casually.

I lean against the railing, considering what she’s told me. “So that means the you right now is supposed to be a version of yourself that's a better version of your sister in every way, then?”

Warmth hits my face like a campfire at the perfect distance, something bright shining through my tentacles.

“So you'd think, right?” She laughs, and with my eyes closed, it sounds almost exactly like Catherine. “Instead, whatever powers govern this kind of thing pulled a genie on me, twisting my wish into an addictive strength based on my own confidence.”

Pretty much immediately, I can see the negatives inherent to a power like that. All it would take is a hit to her pride to weaken her, and from there it would only spiral further.

“Unwind your blindfold, I have something to show you,” she commands, and so I do.

Five small suns float in an orbit around her, each the size of a baseball and growing fast as they arrange themselves in an arc behind her shoulders.

“It has taken both sacrifice and failure to reach this point, but because of that, my confidence falters at neither. A would-be curse molded into both armor and armament.”

We're well away from the city now, its spires and bubble the only unobscured parts of it. Trees and abandoned roads fly by beneath us, their grey and green blurring somewhat at our speed.

“And though your answer wasn't wholly correct, I will provide a reward regardless. A reminder for you of just how limitless humankind can be,” she says, pausing as she rises in the air, letting us fly past her. “And a reminder for everyone else:”

Her quiet words reach my ears perfectly, despite the winds roaring past my ears and the growing distance between us.

“It is not my sister I eclipse, but myself.”

The sky goes dark.