May I Enjoy My Life: Entry 35

7/8/1000

Standing at the base of the last Eye of Iberia, I actually felt like I was having a real adventure! Here I was, at the end of the world, the endless dark depths of the sea beyond the lighthouse, with the key to a legendary bastion, from which we would retake an even more legendary Iberian Battleship!

Also, I felt a LOT better. The Empathy from Fred and Arturia isn’t what I would call high quality. I’ve met bricks with more emotional range than Fred, and his sister is…ok, I’ll just say it: Arturia is fucking weird. And that’s me saying it! Look, you stand her next to Specter the Rhyming Nun, and I don’t know who’s weirder! That’s how weird she is! She’s all about “freeing your emotions” and playing on her electric cello, which is odd, but she HATES explosions! What kind of Sankta hates explosions!? Says they have bad harmonics or something. 

AND SHE HATES GUNS! That is Heresy, with a capital H! She doesn’t even keep her Patron Firearm on her, and she says she pawned it for cello strings. That is the equivalent of selling your first born child for a pack of chewing gum and half a bottle of beer! And not even good beer! Columbian Light beer! 

Also, she told me she didn’t like my Ooey Gooey Deep Dish S’mores Pizza because it was “too sweet” and “an insult to authentic Columbian pizza.” Who the fuck talks about authentic Columbian pizza!? I nearly had an apoplexy on Texas and Lucia’s behalf.  

I think Arturia is actually a Seaborn or an alien. And not the cool kind like James! The weird kind, who kidnap burden beasts and probe them. 

IRENE LIKED MY PIZZA! Said it wasn’t real pizza, but a good dessert! I told her I was confiscating Arturia’s halo and giving it to her. At least IRENE has a Patron Firearm! She calls him Reconciliación, which is a GREAT name for a gun. 

Fred told me his guns’ name was Model W 1081 Lever Action Shotgun. Both of them. THAT’S NOT THEIR NAMES, THAT’S THEIR PRODUCTION NUMBER! LAW DAMMIT FRED!

Anyway, I do like having Arturia and Fred along. Mostly for the Empathy, not my blood pressure. And, well, the firepower is nice too, I guess. 

“APPLE PIE!” I cried gleefully as I used Lenord to take out a group of half a dozen seaborn that came pouring out of the lighthouse towards us. Just the little ones, but that was alright! We were just getting started!

More and bigger seaborns crawled up the sides of the rocky causeway or emerged from the Lighthouse. Fred blasted the ones on the left to itty bitty pieces, while Mudrock and Irene took the right side. Surtr and I held down the front, while Arturia played her cello. I hate to admit it, but she’s actually really good at that. Somehow, her music kept Team Apple Pie in sync with one another, while disrupting the hive mind thingy that Seaborn have going on, and allowing us to clear a path. 

“We’ve got it covered! Get Leader and Amiya inside!” I shouted at Gladia. She, along with Dario, Specter, and Skadi, were escorting our two VIPs inside to turn the big lightbulb back on so we could go find the ancient treasure ship, and raid it for treasure! With them was this sweet local kid named Jordi. Leader went right to his house when we got to Gran Faro, and it turns out his parents were lightkeepers or something. He had all these notes about how to reactivate the Last Eye. 

“Venatores, Procedite!” Gladiia bellowed, and Specter the Rhyming Nun became Specter the Human Buzzsaw. She was still cackling madly and reciting some sing-song rhyme, but I couldn’t really understand it. For some reason, Aegirese is really close to Classic Lateran, only if you speak it like you’re gargling salt water. So, uh, well, the words weren’t the problem, it was all the explosions (mostly from me) and the sound of Specter’s buzzsaw. 

Skadi, on the other hand, had a sword bigger than she was, but was managing to swing it so fast even my eyes had a hard time tracking it. The two of them absolutely butchered a path through the Seaborn, with Gladiia and her big spear stabbing other Seaborn clean in half.

You would think the carnage from the three Sankta, or the three Abyssal Hunters, would be in a fierce competition for the most damage.

You’d be dead wrong. Because holy shit, the King of Fiends had taken the field, and she was taking no prisoners. 

Black arts sprouted from Amiya, and I saw that crown form on her brow again. She blew apart a trio of enormous seaborn that tried to slither up the causeway, ones that were too big for even me or Fred to deal with in one shot. Then she shredded two dozen more seaborn. They just…melted. 

Leader walked along at her side, hands in their pockets of all things, absolutely confident in their allies. Jordi was way less certain, cringing and clutching at an arts wand. He was supposedly a pretty good nurse, but frankly, we were operating under the principle that you didn’t need healing if you killed everything before it could hurt you.

The Abyssal Hunters surged ahead, and we blocked the path behind them, keeping it free of Seaborn as they climbed the stairs. There were literally hundreds of seaborn, from the smaller varieties right on up, but they were getting absolutely pasted by us. Like, this wasn’t even fair. Really fun though! Even if it was super smelly. 

After about 20 minutes, the Lighthouse suddenly burst to life, a great golden beam piercing the darkness. At the same time, the Seaborn assault slackened off, which was cool. Even I was running out of ammo, and I had brought a lot of ammo. Apparently, the golden light repelled the Seaborn to a degree, so they retreated and stopped their wave assault. 

“Ok, people, great job! Sit rep?” I called as I hastily began to check and clean Lenord. That had been a lot of firing, and I was worried he had overheated. I take good care of my babies, but that was a lot of abuse. 

“Ammunition low. Resupply required,” Fred stated, doing his own care and maintenance of his weapons. 

His sister just laughed and grinned. “A magnificent performance! Our emotions, they were an orchestra of passion! Our foes, their song was sweet and intense! Such beauty! Encore, Encore!”

“Only minor wounds,” Irene panted, flopping down on the floor and pulling out her canteen to take a long pull. “The Lighthouse, it shines again! Iberia, he endures!” 

“The Earth bleeds and weeps. This land is corrupted,” Mudrock said, putting her hand to the floor. There had been some sort of weird taint to the soil at first, but she’d driven it away or purified it, at least for now.

“I’m good for now,” Surtr groaned, plopping down beside Irene despite the ichor everywhere. She pulled out a lollipop and began to chew at it, then stuck herself in the thigh with an Arts amp. Not great, but she wasn’t ODing just yet, though if she stopped mainlining that stuff, she probably would drop. 

“Fantastic! Take five, and get ready to roll! Leader said we wouldn’t be here long,” I told them, and everyone nodded. 

Five was about all we got, because the other group came back down. Leader stepped forward and nodded to us. “Good work. We’ve made contact with the Stultifera Navis. Mizuki and the others are bringing the boat up, and we’ll head out there to retrieve some key research and an important asset. If everything goes well, we’ll also be able to use the ship to reach the Arbor.”

“The Arbor?!” Gladiia gasped, whirling on Leader in shock. “You, you mentioned nothing of this! That is sheer madness! Why would you even-” 

“It’s a Precursor site. Without the technology located there, the entire world may be doomed,” Leader stated. “Our mission is to both pacify the Seaborn and to prevent a Catastrophe from using the technology in the Arbor to assimilate the Seaborn into Originium, which could spell the end of everything. Nothing would survive.”

“What kind of Catastrophe could do that?! How do you even know all this?!” Gladiia demanded hotly, with Specter and Skadi looking rather uncertain at their leader’s outburst. 

Leader shook their head. “The source of my knowledge is too dangerous to even speak of. Suffice to say, the gamble is worth the risks. We have also brought the greatest firepower that Rhodes Island, Aegir, and Iberia have to bear. This is our best and only chance. We can save not just Aegir, but Iberia, and perhaps every living thing on Terra. I have a plan. I need you to trust me.”

“I…” Gladiia hesitated and glanced at Skadi and Specter. 

“Domina, I believe we must trust in the Ghost of Babel,” Skadi stated firmly. “They area genius beyond genius. I have served under them at Rhodes Island for three years now. If anyone could save Aegir…it would be the Doktah of Rhodes Island.”

Gladiia turned to Leader, obviously still frustrated. “The Arbor will deny even you access! Not even Aegir’s greatest minds could enter that complex, even if we were to defeat the Firstborn, Izumik, the Source of Ecology!” 

Slowly, Leader reached up, and peeled back their hood. Everyone held their breath, and I admit it, my jaw dropped in shock. Not the only one either. Only Amiya didn’t seem to be too surprised as the face of the Ghost was revealed. 

Pale, milky eyes, that somehow pierced the soul. Alabaster skin and hair, and features that were, aside from their lack of pigmentation, remarkably ordinary. “I will be granted access, because I am an Administrator. I am the Oracle of the Precursors. And I was there when the Arbor was built.”

“Holy Law guide and protect us,” Irene whispered, clutching at her crucifix, and I could only swallow and nod. Even Freddo looked stunned, though Arturia managed to smile and nod, as if she saw this coming.

No the fuck you didn’t, Ria! This was somehow even wilder than Kal’stit being the next best thing to the Law itself. Leader wasn’t claiming to be God like Kal had. No, Leader was claiming that they created God. At least, if I understand the theological ramifications of all this. I know a lot of history, but this is way the fuck above my pay grade. 

“I…” Gladiia hastily knelt, and Specter and Skadi joined her in genuflecting from their knees. I mean, I guess I knelt too, because Saints above, this was nuts! “Dominus, what is your command?”

“Well, first, to stop calling me Dominus. Doktah is fine. I gave all that up. I’m just Doktah now. But we have to hurry. PRTS has gone offline. We don’t have much time.”

What the hell did PRTS acting up have to do with anything? We were pretty far from Rhodes Island, surely it wasn’t that weird for it to be on the fritz?

Oh well, far be it from me to question…whatever Leader was. 

Just kidding, I raised my hand. “Um, so, Leader, about that cherry bomb in the bathroom last week…”

They actually chuckled as they pulled their hood back up. “A harmless prank, Lemuen. Though, honestly, you’re lucky my pants were already down, because otherwise I would have crapped them.”

I giggled half hysterically. “Good! Don’t think just because you’re some ancient god or whatever that I won’t loosen the lid to the sugar at the coffee pot! Gotta keep those ancient deities on their toes!” 

“Eh, I just pour the grinds in my mouth with some hot water, more efficient that way,” Leader laughed. 

“Sangre de los mártires, they are crazy,” Irene muttered, then put her hands over her mouth in horror. 

“This is a terrible mission,” Dario said, slowly rising on creaky knees. “A mad one, even. But if the threat is so great…then we must hurry. Come, to the boats. I never thought I would see the Golden Ship in my lifetime, yet, here we are. It is a good day!”

“But not to die!” I added hastily before anyone said something stupid. “If we die, we can’t have after-mission ice cream!” 

That finally broke the tension, and everyone was all smiles. We hastened down to the dock, which was in shockingly good condition, where Mizuki, Thorns, and the rest of our operators were already loaded up and ready to go. 

We got on the boat, and we hadn’t gone far before poor Mudmud was clinging to the side and looking very, very green. 

“Wow, you OK, sister?” I said, rubbing her back. 

“...don’t like…boats,” she mumbled. “Need…land…before-HURRRRK!”

Oof. Boats don’t bother me, I’ve never gotten motion sick in my life, but our Gargoyle was not doing so hot. Amiya came over and offered healing, but Mudrock just shook her head. We did give her some dramaphine, which should help, but it would have been better to give it before she was revisiting last night's dinner. 

We hadn’t been going for more than an hour, before a great dark silhouette appeared on the horizon. As our small squadron approached, it was revealed to be a massive dreadnought, one nearly the size of a landship in scale. I could only gawk up at it, and wonder how much boom it would take to blow her up.

“Do not,” Irene said, glaring at me.

“What?” I asked innocently.

She pointed an accusatory finger at me. “I know that look, Exusiai! You are thinking, ‘how much explosives would it take for me to destroy this priceless relic from Iberia’s Golden Age?’ Well, I am telling you now, no! You will not be blowing him up! He is a fine, proud ship!”

“Aren’t ships usually girls?” Surtr asked, still sucking on her lollipop. Or maybe another one, actually. I should bum a couple off her, I was fresh out. 

Irene rolled her eyes. “Victorian ships, yes, they are being girls. The same with Sargonian, Siracusa, and Lateran. But Iberia, we are having better sense, yes? We are knowing a ship is a man! Strong and steadfast, yet fickle and needing constant care. A ship, he is like a man! So, they are a man!” 

Surtr shrugged. “Sure. I guess if you bird-brained weirdos wanna be weird, you can.”

Irene puffed up, but I tapped her on the shoulder. “Ireeeene…she’s trying to rile you up. And you fell for it. Again.”

That was when Surtr pulled out her sucker to give the other sucker her very best shit-eating grin, and steam came out of Irene’s ears. Harrumphing, our favorite Inquisitor folded her arms over her chest and turned her back on Surtr. “We are arriving! We should be preparing for battle, not having witty repartee!” 

“Angry bird is right, people! Lock and load!” I called, and everyone prepared as we approached the ship. 

The radio crackled to life, and Leader’s voice came over the waves. “Attention, all Operators. The Stultifera Navis is heavily infested with Seaborn. We anticipate heavy resistance. Our primary objective is to recover research data from within the ship’s engineering section, and retrieve an Abyssal Hunter Operative. Secondary objective is to completely eradicate all Seaborn presence. Ch’en will be leading Dragon Squad with Mizuki on a Search and Destroy mission. Exusiai and Apple Pie Squad will be heading to Engineering to retrieve the data. And Gladiia will be leading Abyssal Squad to the Bridge with Amiya and myself to recover personnel. Fight for the Dawn. I’ve uploaded tactical data to the local network, and will be coordinating you in real time. Do not attempt to connect to PTRS: I have severed the connection, and any data sent is to be considered compromised and non-secure.”

“Apple Pie Squad copies! Us ladies, and Fred, are ready to party hard!” I answered as cheerily as I could. Well, OK, I had to tone it down slightly. Recovering ancient Aegirian secrets from Engineering?! This was a real life treasure hunt! It was slightly disappointing I wasn’t going to get to blow up the old girl, boy, whatever, but recapturing him would be almost as much fun!

“Oh, and there is a tertiary objective for Apple Pie Squad!” I told my team as I pulled out a Very Important dufflebag. 

“Yes?” Fred said, and everyone peered forward at the bag.

I reached in, and pulled out a couple of rattle cans, shaking them vigorously. Irene let out a horrified gasp, but I ignored her. “We’re tagging this bitch! People are gonna know that Apple Pie Squad was here!” 

“Fuck yeah!” Surtr laughed, grabbing a cheery red and neon green can with glee. 

Mudrock took a brown one with a lot less enthusiasm, while Irene looked murderous. “This a holy place! A sacred relic!” 

“Yeah, and Freddo can tell you about the time I tagged the Basilika Canonis! So this isn’t even my first time defacing a holy place!” I told her with a wide grin. 

“I was unaware that you were the perpetrator of that incident,” Fred said, his brow furrowing slightly. “Indeed, there is still an outstanding warrant for the arrest of the vandal responsible. Also, once again, I believe there has been some miscommunication. My name is not ‘Freddo,’ or ‘Fred.’ It is Federico Giallo, of Notarial-”

“Sure thing, Fred! I’ll get right on turning myself in for crimes that I’m pretty sure the statute of Limitations is up on.”

“The Statute of Limitations on this crime does not expire for six months and-”

“Oops, too late! Heeeeeeere’s Giannnnniiiii!” I cried as we reached the side of the dreadnought. I activated a grapple gun on the ship, and a rope ladder shot up, and attached itself to the railing. “Last one onboard’s a stale donut!” 

I swarmed up the ladder and right into a seething nest of Seaborn. Which is why I wasn’t actually the first on the ship: That would be my friend, The Holy Hand Grenade of San Bartolo. So named because I made it myself, and it was about ten times as powerful as a non-holy hand grenade, so most people’s reaction to seeing me toss one was “HOLY SHIT!” 

“KABOOM!” I cried gleefully as Magister San Bartolo went off, then hurled myself up onto the deck, Victor in one hand, Lenord in the other. I sprayed down the deck good and proper, sending woodchips and smoke in all directions. There were still a LOT of Seaborn coming my way, which was why I was very glad the next person onto the deck was Mudrock. She brought the hammer down, causing a good portion of the deck to disintegrate and pulping half a dozen Seaborn in the process. 

All accompanied by a pretty damn epic score from Arturia. She went up one Cool Point in my ledger. She still has like negative sixty millions, but it is incredibly satisfying to have your own theme song play as you blow up bad guys. 

The rest of us got up onto the deck, and pulled up the map of the ship that Jordi had supplied us with. And it really did feel like a map, not schematics: this place was the size of a city, and some of the sections were hundreds of meters in diameter. 

“Right, Engineering is this way,” I said, highlighting our route. “Leader, any advice?”

“Watch out for the Nethersea Brand. It covers much of the ship, and is highly corrosive. Mudrock should be able to cleanse it, but the best way to handle it is to kill all the Seaborn. Do not attempt to speak to or negotiate with the crew: They are all corrupted. The exception is Captain Alfonso, but I anticipate he’ll be on the bridge.” 

Thanks for the heads up, Bones, I thought to myself. That Weird Alien knowledge sure did come in handy!

We moved as a team below decks, and to my surprise, everything was in near-perfect condition. The walls and floors were gleaming with gold, which, I guess made sense? Gold doesn’t tarnish and all that, but there weren’t any stains or anything else around. Heck, the power was still on, which was super freaking weird. This ship had been out here since before the Profound Silence, and that had been sixty years ago. 

“Spooky, huh?” I commented as we moved down the wide corridors in battle formation: Mudmud in front, me and Irene behind her, Ria in the middle, then Fred and Surtr as our rearguard.

“I confess, I was not expecting him to be in such a state. The crew, they must still be attending to their tasks, but…” Irene trailed off as we rounded a corridor. There, a group of six vaguely humanoid seaborn were working away with mops and sponges, cleaning things. They had the same coloration as other seaborn, and the same tendrils coming off of them, but…well…I could see Liberi features on them. They turned black eyes on us, and I swallowed. 

Then I shot them in the head. They didn’t die easy, Seaborn don’t do that, but they did die in sprays of ichor. More seaborn swarmed us from a side corridor, and that corrupting black ooze started to spread from one that was carrying a glowing staff and singing. 

“Their song! I…I can hear it! Their emotions…they are… rejoicing?” Ria gasped, her own song faltering slightly. 

“Well don’t fucking listen! KILL THEM!” I screamed at her as I fired at the caster, but it had a weird barrier protecting itself. 

It took Mudmud wading through the little seaborns, crushing them with her hammer, then pulping the caster with a swing of her fist. She grunted, holding back the spreading ooze, but shook her head after a moment and stepped back. “There is little Earth here. I cannot cleanse this, and it is spreading from the blood of these creatures. We must hurry.”

“Right, keep moving, people!” I ordered, shooting a worried glance at Ria. Her emotions were…well, they were going haywire. I fell in beside her, letting Irene pick off the next group of little seaborn. “Hey, you OK? You’re not listening to that song, right?”

“It is a new song. I have heard many songs, even the Witch Kings,” Arturia told me, giving me one of her crazy smiles. “Their song will not overwhelm mine, Lemuen, never you fear.”

“OK, but if you’re not good, just holler, OK? We’re a team! We support one another!”

“Ah, yes. I am usually a soloist, but it is so fascinating to play alongside a Sankta who thinks herself a sarkaz!”

I gave her an odd look. “Uh, we’re all Sarkaz. I thought you knew that.”

Arturia blinked at me rapidly, her bow actually faltering on her strings. “I- what?! Why would you claim this!?”

“We’re descended from Sarkaz. Didn’t the Pope tell you? I thought his letter…” I trailed off, as even Fred was looking at me funny now. 

“His Holiness ordered that we work alongside Sarkaz. Claiming Sankta are descended from Sarkaz is illogical. Our biology is too different,” Fred stated matter-of-factly. 

“Her emotions…you truly believe this, don’t you? Fascinating. I wonder what led you astray,” Ria said with a sly grin that made me wanna punch her in the face. 

“So you just think I’m crazy!? Don’t see that- CONTACT FRONT!” 

More Seaborn poured out, with two of those caster ritualist things. I managed to blow one to bloody chunks this time, but now there were Seaborn coming at us from behind too. The immaculate floors were a lot more disturbing now: the crew might have become mindless horrors, but they were still attending to their duties. 

We fought on through sporadic hordes of Seaborn, with never more than a few minutes to rest. It took nearly an hour, but we finally made it to engineering. It was a vast, cavernous space, with great engines still humming along. I half-wondered how they still had enough originium to keep them running, then decided that I didn’t really want to know. 

There were a few little ones running around, but not too bad. We cleared those out, then searched for the data that Leader wanted. 

“Hey, the guy who wrote the stuff we were looking for was called Breogan, right?” Surtr called. 

We all hurried over, and sure enough, there were some relics and papers locked away in a fancy desk that had been in a sealed office. We grabbed everything we could, stuffing it into special messenger bags. We were just about done, when Executor raised his shotguns. 

“Enemy movement. It appears to be somewhat large.”

Even before I could race to the door, an eerie song began. It sent shivers down my spine, and gave me fowlbeast pimples all over my body. I peered out to see the oddest looking seaborn  yet. It had what looked like a jellyfin for a head, with long trailing ribbons behind it. All around it, dozens and dozens of the little seaborn crawled, and more of those caster things, spreading the black ooze. 

“LEADER! We’ve got a big one here! And it’s singing!” I desperately called into the radio. Leader had to have a plan for dealing with this, because that was a LOT of Seaborn coming our way. 

“Singing? We assassinated Amaia, so it’s not the Endspeaker. Can you take it out, or do you need reinforcements?”

“We can try, but we’ve got the data! Should we exfil?” I asked, even as I fired full auto at the advancing wave and we fell back as a group. I did a quick headcount and came up one short. 

Oh fuck. 

Arturia was playing away, right in the path of the Seaborn. They weren’t attacking her, instead, going around her. I groaned and spoke into the radio: “Cancel exfil! Arturia seems to be enthralled by the song! We’re going in to extract!” 

“Do not fear for me!” Arturia called as we charged back for her. “Their song harmonizes with mine! We shall make such music together! Flee, while you can! I shall reveal in these emotions laid bare…

“Arturia! You are being illogical. The Seaborn will overcome you!” Fred called, blasting away hordes of them. I mowed them down as fast as I could, but we were too slow. The big jellyfin reached out, and caressed Arturia with one of its tendrils, still singing. 

Just like that, the timbre of Arturia’s music changed. I no longer felt it just in my mind. I felt it through my Empathy. In my very being. Fred locked up, and I watched as his guns slowly, ever so slowly, began to turn away from the Seaborn, and towards Surtr and Mudrock. I felt my own guns drift that direction, against my own will. Whatever that song was, it was going directly to the heart of what made us Sankta, and exploiting our Empathy. In another moment, I knew the music would overwhelm me and Fred both, and we’d turn our guns on our allies. Then, the Seaborn would take us, and I would lose everything that made me, me. 

It was an easy choice. Almost too easy. I fired twice. I’m a good shot. The best. 

My first shot deflected Fred’s own, preventing him from shooting Surtr in the back. My second took Arturia in the right shoulder. It wouldn’t kill her, but it did wreck her ability to play that cello. Fortunately, it also snapped her out of whatever the Seaborn had been doing to her, and she staggered back before pulling out a small pistol and shooting the seaborn with it. 

I managed to keep from vomiting, and I blew that stupid jellyfin’s head off. Then I upchucked. Managed to get my visor up in time.

“F-fall back,” I gasped, wiping bile from my mouth. “Apple Pie Squad, retreat!”

It was all a blur. We managed to fight back, even as cries from the Abyssal Hunters came about someone called “The Last Knight.” Dragon Squad made contact with Ulpianus. But, the Seaborn had Engineering, and we couldn’t take it back. Plan B: We planted explosives, and I did get to blow up the whole ship to scuttle him. 

Then, we made it back to the little boats, where I collapsed, panting and out of breath. I was numb. My whole body was shaking. 

“Ex…Exusiai?” Irene gasped, finally noticing what had happened. I had on a helmet, of course, but it had sprouted two neat little holes. “What happened to- oh, Holy Law! No!”

“Everyone OK?” I managed, staggering to my feet as the boats turned away. I turned my back on the explosion as it went off. I just…I couldn’t, not right now. 

“Exusiai, sit down,” Irene said firmly, grabbing my arm and hauling me over to a seat. 

“Hey, it’s fine! I-Ice cream all around!” I stammered, but the shakes had started. 

Fred came over and studied me. Then, he reached for Victor. “Lemuen Exusiai. Under Article I, Canto IV, your patron firearm is-”

“Not now!” Irene hissed. 

Mudrock looked up from where she was tending to Surtr, who was in Arts overdose and unconscious. She was the only reason we’d made it out, her flaming sword cutting a path to freedom when my aim was off from how badly I was shaking. 

“It is the law,” Fred said.

“Fedi?” Arturia said, looking up from where a medic was treating her shoulder wound. 

“Yes?” he said, glancing at his sister. 

“Now isn’t the time,” Arturia said. She forced the medic off of her, and came over to me. Her good hand took my right in hers, while Irene held the other. “Lemuen. It’s going to be-”

“It’s, it’s fine, I’m…I’m ok! No worries, I’ll just sleep better without a nightlight!” I laughed, though I knew I was hysterical.

“The patron firearm is not only confiscated because it is the law,” Federico said, and both Irene and Arturia turned murderous gazes on him. “It is to prevent suicide. Exusiai will need to be watched, for at least 72 hours. Fallen who are not carefully monitored in the first 72 hours have a 37.2% suicide rate.”

“Ah.” Arturia nodded, and Irene reached over, taking Victor from me. I gasped in pain, but Mudrock had come over and wrapped me in a hug. I struggled a little, but they took them all from me: Victor. Scardy and Katt. Infinite Justice. Earl of Headshot. Lenord. Sasha. My grenades. My knives. Even my toenail clippers. 

I was shaking all over, and trying not to cry. “Guys, don’t be silly! It’s fine! I, I said I was a Sarkaz! And…and now…”

I hiccuped and glanced down at the tail in my lap. My tail. Just like Mostima’s. Oh Law. 

They pried my helmet off. Had to cut it off, actually. Wasn’t made to be used with horns. I was wrapped in a blanket, and Mudrock and Irene both clung to me in a warm hug. When we got back to base camp, they gave me all the ice cream I could eat.

Which was zero. Everything tasted like ashes. 

I had Fallen. And I was never getting back up again.