Arknights | Hand in Unlovable Hand, Chapter 21

[veryroundbird]

Rating: Spicy
Chapter: 21/28
Characters: Doctor (F), Kal'tsit, Amiya, various others
Relationships: Doctor/Kal'tsit, Kal'tsit/Theresa, Theresa/Doctor
Summary: Dr. Lau returns to Rhodes Island a stranger in a strange land, in a labyrinth of things that feel like they should be familiar but aren't—and at the center is Dr. Kal'tsit and all the things she's not saying. Even if amnesia's changed her, though, the Doctor wouldn't be the Doctor if she didn't have an impulse to solve for the missing variable.
Notes: while this fic is marked as "spicy" the only actual sexual content is in chapters 8, 9, 17, 23 and 27, and there's cliff notes for the scenes at the bottom of the chapter. sexual content is noted in the start of chapters where it appears.

---

At this point it really shouldn't surprise you when, feeling out of your depth, you find there's an even deeper end of the pool and you're being shoved into it.

Honestly this would all be very educational if you could make sense of literally any of it.¹

That she and Patriot knew each other, once upon a time—well, Kal'tsit knows a lot of surprising people and a lot of surprising things.² It's the circumstances—

"When my people, left—" Patriot rasps, neck bowing to stare down at her. "—you and, Her Majesty, didn't stop us."

You have bigger things to worry about. But, that Kal'tsit knew Theresa³ for so long,⁴ because it can only be Theresa they're talking about...

Kal'tsit glances over her shoulder just briefly at you, when Patriot brings up Her Majesty's passing; you meet her eyes, and can't keep a raised eyebrow out of your expression. She doesn't change expression, though, just—neutral, distant.⁵

But then eyes are off you again, and you're left to your own thoughts. For once, no one is looking at you or to you, though Amiya's hand curls around your arm. You know this is only a few minutes' reprieve before the everything starts up again.⁶

Patriot's presence and manner... doesn't entirely surprise you, from your long conversation with Yelena, buried under all that debris. What does surprise you a little bit is how—despite the fact that you'd never think to compare yourself to someone of his stature and dignity,⁷ it's... not hard to understand him and his convictions.

Someone who tired of killing, yet finds themselves called upon for it yet again in service of an ideal? Hah.⁸

But then you have a brief flicker of instinct to ready yourself—which turns out to be right when he nods to Kal'tsit, and then looks to you—and to Amiya, at your side.

"Them, those two," he says, great shoulders shifting to face you. "They stink, of my daughter. Her death."

"Mr. Patriot," Amiya says, quietly, brows knitting together, and the least you can do is not make her handle this alone. You shift your arm to link through hers.

"FrostNova died at our hands," you say.⁹ "I won't deny it. She died in testing us in battle, so—"

"No," he says. "No more."

The word falls like the heavy end of a hammer, and there's silence all around. You glance at Amiya; she glances up at you. Kal'tsit, very slightly, turns to catch your eye, and then once again speaks.¹⁰

"Do you seek vengeance on Rhodes Island, Patriot?" she asks.

And after a long moment, Patriot shakes his head, slowly. "No more. Why take, vengeance, for her, actions?" he goes on.¹¹ "That was, her path. She chose. No matter, where it ended."

The corner of your mouth twitches, slightly. "FrostNova—" you start, and then realize the words are coming out too quiet, and repeat yourself. "FrostNova had an iron will," you go on. And then, impulsively: "In the end, she approved of us.¹² She said—"

"Quiet."

This time, though, some boiling urge takes you, refuses to fall to silence without one more word. "What?" you snap.

Amiya tugs on your jacket sleeve lightly,¹³ and takes a half-step in front of you. "Mr. Patriot?" she says.

"She's, so young," he says, head tilting down and to the side—looking away. "Only knows, blind trust—"

You bristle;¹⁴ but having resolved to speak his piece, he barrels on. "The truth, we believed, in the end, is exposed." Patriot makes a kind of hacking noise that takes a while to return to words.¹⁵ "Only a few, wolves, in sheep's clothing."

Ah. So he does know what's going on here. Even as Amiya protests that there was meaning to FrostNova's life and death,¹⁶ her fingers weaving tightly in yours, you're redoing your mental calculations of the situation.¹⁷

FrostNova could have killed you like he says, if she was healthy—like slicing wheat with a sickle. She still might very well have had it within her. But you wonder if, raised by this man, with these ideals¹⁸—who fought of his own volition against king and country, to better the lives of those he declared under his protection¹⁹...

"Talulah has set the core city on a collision course for Lungmen," you hazard—watching his expression carefully.

No surprise.²⁰ "And is she," he says, "declaring it, Ursus territory?"

Amiya startles, looking up at you, and then at Patriot, disbelieving—you just nod. "Seems like we can skip that part, then," you mutter, taking a long, deep breath.

"I won't, betray again." There's something else there, behind his words... you can't quite put your finger on it.²¹ "Or they, the Infected, the struggle, are for nothing. They die. Even if, Talulah, has gone mad..."²²

He shakes his head. "How do I tell, the Infected, their leader, is mad? A traitor? How do I say, she is wrong now, but once right? How do I say, she, who you follow, must now die? I won't let, Reunion, become 'Infected, civil war, then nothing.'²³ I will not."

Kal'tsit frowns, and makes a quiet click of her tongue as she knits her brows together. "But Reunion won't be able to carry its own weight—and besides, Talulah has been working secretly to destroy Reunion from within."

There's a long silence before Patriot speaks again.

"You are right, Dame Kal'tsit," he says, at long last. "And so, you are here. I prepared, to face, many types of foe." Another pause. "But I did not, expect, in the end, to fight Infected."²⁴

You see Kal'tsit run her tongue lightly over her lips; her ears flatten, slightly.²⁵ "Is this really what you choose?" she asks, after a long moment. "Buldrokkas'tee..." She keeps her gaze level on him. "You don't have to die."

"Choose?" A long, rumbling snort. "I have only, one choice. To kill you."

"Mr. Patriot, we don't need to throw more lives away! This isn't like it was with Miss FrostNova—"²⁶ Amiya grips your arm tightly, and you flick your eyes down toward her; her knuckles are white. "No matter who wins, this battle is playing right into the enemy's hands—"

"In this world, there are fates, worse than death." Someone might think he means that he fears other things more than death, and that's what drives him—no. That's not it. It's that everything that could be worse has already happened, and that the worst thing remaining... "Why should I stop? Who dares, test me? My virtue? They called me, righteous. Should I, accept?"

You close your eyes for a moment.²⁷ You hadn't expected someone with such an intimidating presence to, well...

...to fear the same things. To fear letting those that follow him down. Which is why he will not turn—you're sure, now, there is no arguing with him. He has, like FrostNova, chosen his path.²⁸

"Buldrokkas'tee, don't be stupid—" Kal'tsit's tone is clipped, but you can hear the strain in her voice. She's...

...it's funny. You'd think she'd be the cynic, between the two of you, but she still thinks she can talk him out of this. Or rather—she wants even more than you do, to not see one more body at your feet.²⁹ "You can live on."

"Dame, you too, have tasted loss," he says, levelly, the glint of his eyes fixing on her. "And so, could you, stand by, and watch?"

Her head jerks up, mouth curled down in a snarl. "You—"³⁰

"My blood, no longer, serves her," says Patriot. "Yes. My country... is Ursus. But—when she, died. We heard it... that long, long gasp."

Kal'tsit's silent, for a long moment; her fists clench at her sides—and then unclench, slowly.³¹

"So you could feel it," she says, quietly. "The moment when the pulse containing her Arts spread through the body of every Sarkaz in the world—"

Her mouth bows a little more downwards into a frown.³² "It was only an instant. But you felt it. That means your blood..." A pause. "That means your blood is ancient enough."

"So ancient that, I am alone." His voice is always gravelly, but there's a waver there that... gives you pause.³³ "I never thought, born in Kazdel, never Infected... Then, an old man, I tasted it, Oripathy. Is that right?"

He shakes his head. "We all know, Dame. We all know. Things in this world, do not happen, because they are, right. In fact, most things, are mistakes, again. My men said, I can fix them. In fact, they are too many.³⁴ There is no, looking back."

Patriot's grip tightens on his halberd; you can see that slight shift of his hand under the gloves. "Do you fight, to this day, for what, you lost, Dame? I think, no." He raises his chin. "I think, you lost, and you refuse, to lose more.³⁵ My daughter, has passed. I fight not, for her death. I fight, for the living, for all Infected, to the end. Reunion, cannot fail. Reunion must, liberate. All Infected."

He hefts his shield—even in this state, able to lift that massive fucking thing easily with a strength you could only dream of.³⁶ "So you, will not pass. I will not, allow it."

A hard thunk of the butt of his halberd on the pavement. "To go through, central district, you have to, kill me. Otherwise, my guerrillas, will hunt. And I, will be here, strangling you, to death. You will die, at my hands. Only if, you kill me, will your value, be known. Otherwise, you are only, intruders."

You pinch the bridge of your nose.³⁷ "Is that it?"

"Of course, I don't believe, you have any, value," he says.³⁸ "I don't know, how you could, resist, my people's, witchcraft. But you will not, survive, Ursus tactics."

"Do you really hate us, then?" That's not right, but—you're trying to pin something down.

He speaks only with great labor, but even so—his next words have the weight of exhaustion in them even more than average. "I don't hate, anyone," he says. "I just don't, trust you. I cannot, trust. Even you, Lord. You brought..."

You frown, as he cuts off—what had he intended to say to Kal'tsit?³⁹

"I don't believe, in coincidences," he says, instead. "War. War, does not care. Not about right, or wrong. It does not, care about, the suffering, or the oppressed, or the enslaved. Off the battlefield, there are. On the battlefield, there are not. You must prepare, for the battlefield. Whoever dies, is wrong."

"So here we go," you murmur. "About what I expected, I suppose."

The corner of Kal'tsit's mouth twitches, slightly. "...We're just a fork in his road," she says. "All that we've built means nothing to him... we're a choice just like 'go kill Talulah right now.' To put it frankly, he's looking down on us."

She looks across the pavement at him, her gaze distant—looking at him, but not seeing him.⁴⁰

"He doesn't trust," Kal'tsit says, quietly. "He only trusts himself.⁴¹ It all comes down to battle now." She shakes her head. "Only war can kill him."

The monstrously fearsome warrior stands before you—and begins to advance, lifting his shield. But—you remember, there is another monstrous warrior who comprehends everything—

Amiya grips your hand tightly. You look down at her; she doesn't return your gaze, but looks ahead, at what will be the battlefield.

You close your eyes, you open your eyes. You set your fear aside, because there's no need for it.⁴²

"Begin the operation," you say.

[1] Unfortunately you allocated too many of your very stressed braincells to figuring out how to kill Patriot and now have none left over for Kal'tsit is how old???

[2] That you sometimes think she breaks out specifically to dunk on other people, mostly you.

[3] "Her Majesty"—yeah. That lines up with the bits and pieces that occasionally float through your head, snatches of memory but ohhhh boy that starts to add additional complications to the picture you're painting.

[4] You're starting to feel like a homewrecker? Uncomfortably so?

[5] For a moment, staring right through you. Maybe, to some other time. When Patriot presses on the fact that the years haven't changed her, she demurrs, saying that she's not the same woman she was then—but you wonder if anything could change her if she didn't want it to.

[6] And by "the everything" you probably mean "someone trying to kill you, again"

[7] On account of, again, being a total fucking disaster clown.

[8] Unfortunate day for both of you.

[9] Your voice mostly does not waver, even though your mouth has gone very suddenly dry. Everything feels simultaneously too close/much/loud/bright and like your head has been stuffed with cotton, fuzzy around the edges.
It's a little like how you felt, watching Rosmontis's arts unfurl for just that brief moment—like you couldn't remember where you ended and the world began. You feel like you're watching yourself speak, except the words coming out of everyone's mouths are a moment ahead—

[10] She's the one person not visibly shaken—even the shieldguards seem a little taken aback at their commander's vehemence.

[11] Even as he says it, though—in his tone, there's something hollow and lonely and wounded.

[12] In a way, you and he are struggling with the same thing—the senselessness of it. Betrayed in Lungmen, left to die, losing those under her care—if you can make something of it—
Well, you have to.

[13] You... feel yourself calm, a little bit. Her presence, bigger than her tiny stature—almost like she's carrying some of that anger for you. There's something... familiar...?

[14] Putting FrostNova at the bar for "naive and trusting" is really setting some kind of standard there.

[15] He too... is dying. Maybe not as imminently as his daughter, if he were left to his own devices—but he doesn't have long, you can tell.
The Oripathy is in his throat and probably in his head, and even the former, you know from even your milder case, is unpleasant; the fact that he's made it this long is testament to his constitution and whatever cursed synergy the Sarkaz seem to have with Oripathy.

[16] FrostNova, who asked you to try and save Talulah, if you could. To stop her, before it's too late—you can feel the bitter retort in her father's words, saying that it's already past that.

[17] He's decided that Talulah is dangerous; he's ready to rectify the situation, even though he is prepared to die in the attempt.

[18] He's put his faith in ideals because people are so much more fragile, so...

[19] The Infected of Ursus and of the world, yes. Of his adoptive daughter, and of Reunion—
For a moment, you can almost see from his high stature. A flicker of understanding, of empathy—"I can't let anything destroy what I've vowed to protect ever again."

[20] Not that you think he's any kind of actor. He's an honest man.

[21] It's a different betrayal he's talking about, than leaving Kazdel, you're pretty sure. Something in the inflection is different. A betrayal that caused him to lose something—no, someone. That heavy weight on your shoulders is also something he carries, and has carried for decades.

[22] There's a heaviness to the way he says it—one that you realize has a similar tone to how FrostNova spoke of Talulah. Both of them cared for Talulah dearly.
He's preparing himself to mourn another child.

[23] He's right; it rankles. By all rights you shouldn't be going up against one another; by all rights Reunion shouldn't have become what it is, that's causing it to fracture. You hope you'll never have to reckon with this as Rhodes Island.

[24] That's as close as he'll get to saying that he doesn't want to fight you. There's not much reluctance, because he's a man resolved to a task, but—just a tiny bit. You realize, uncomfortably, that you're not thinking about how to use it to convince him to abandon this, but instead—if you can make it a weapon.

[25] It's in the body language—when she used her intimidation tactics on Guard, she was perfectly calm, hardly upset. Here—she really is unsettled, unhappy.

[26] You flinch, before you can rein in the impulse.

[27] That's the hard part of being a legend who still lives, isn't it? Trying to live up to the you that everyone else thinks of.

[28] You wish you could muster up a better retort to him saying that his daughter just gave up the fight than a weak, quiet, that's not how it is.

[29] And, well, you too would like to see that, but something about the last seventy-two hours has not really filled you with optimism, somehow.

[30] You've only seen her so angry once before, and last time it was pointed at you, that one night in the hallway.

[31] Even though neither has said who they're talking about, there can only be one person. You stiffen where you stand, watching her.

[32] Kal'tsit has always seemed to know far more about Sarkaz customs and politics than you'd expect, for someone not of them; then again, if she had been by Theresa's—Her Majesty's—side for so long... well, of course.

[33] Who here isn't a lonely bastard, actually. Is there anyone?

[34] Oh, now that's something you understand to an uncomfortable degree.

[35] You watch her face; she closes her eyes, and—turns her head just slightly more away from your direction, so you can't see her expression.

[36] What with your sad noodle arms.

[37] You knew this was coming, but you're just so tired. You're so fucking tired.

[38] It's a little hard not to get irritable at that, but—no, you think you know what he means. And you think you understand why he said it that way. After all, if his daughter died for people he could easily dispatch, then it's all worthless.

[39] You're a little bit worried that he was going to say you. And of course no one will conveniently explain the whole backstory in front of you.

[40] Or maybe, seeing him as he was, all those years ago.

[41] In that way—maybe, some of this comes down to the fact that Kal'tsit has sympathy for him.
Because, well—even if you're being charitable, she's just like that, too.

[42] It's funny. You didn't even notice how you were changing—how quickly it all came back to you, conducting the flow of battle like a virtuoso. At some point, it settled back into second nature. You don't need to fear, because there's nothing to fear. You will do what you were made for.
What you were made for is to win.

---

It's a foregone conclusion. It always was.

His shield breaks; his halberd shatters under Rosmontis's relentless assault. His shieldguards can't break Mon3tr and Kal'tsit's defensive line, and you don't even have to check twice to know that you've choked his forces off just enough.

"If I, stop... they died for nothing," says Patriot, and something about that staggers you⁴³—enough to be slow to duck out of the way of incoming debris. A firm hand grabs your shoulder, and pulls you out of the way so that there's only a thin red line across your cheek, and you find yourself tucked behind Kal'tsit and Mon3tr.⁴⁴

She glances over her shoulder at you. "Stay behind me," she says.

"Got it," you reply, with as much crispness as you can muster in the moment.⁴⁵

Even with that, though, he advances—

—he advances, and there's only Amiya, the impossible matte-black jagged bolts of her Arts lancing through the space between them. One, two—

There.

He falls—towering above you even on his knees. And to Kal'tsit, he holds out one of his great hands, but not in hostility—

—instead, holds out a metal object, on a chain.

"The key, to stop, Chernobog," he rasps, slowly. "If you go, to the bridge... you need it."

Amiya looks up at him, frowning. "Mr. Patriot, you... just to..." She looks down at her hands.⁴⁶ "Oh."

There's just the tiniest shake of Patriot's head. "No. I did, intend, to kill you," he says. "But now, you defeated me. You earned it."

You let out a breath that you didn't know you were holding, and pinch the bridge of your nose. "Why... did you have to take it this far?"

There's a wheezing noise that sounds... a little bit like a laugh. "Because I don't trust you," he says, again. "My daughter, was naive. She was soft, she assumed, an outcome. I don't. I wait for results. And this... is the best... result."⁴⁷

You watch, mutely, as he asks Kal'tsit to witness him—a Sarkaz rite. Of course Kal'tsit knows it.

...I hereby witness a Sarkaz. Buldrokkas'tee, Wendigo of Kazdel, betrayed neither flesh nor blood, disgraced not his tribe.
He leaves his body, with his life, under the light...
...And his soul returns to the warm blood of the Wendigos.

It's a curse, she says, but even so... you're not sure you agree, even if you don't understand the Sarkaz the way she does.⁴⁸

When it's done, she sighs—a wry twist to the corner of her mouth, and for a moment, you feel like you can see a flicker of the woman she must have been all those years ago.⁴⁹ "I thought you hated this stuff," she says to him.

He lowers his head. "But I, am old."

And starts to still—his shoulders rising and falling more slowly. Amiya raises a hand, and—you can feel the prickle of Arts in the raised hairs on the back of your neck, but you're not sure what she's doing.⁵⁰

Suddenly, he raises his head. "No. Hallucination. How... I, don't need visions, don't need, consolation! Who...?"

Amiya takes a surprised half-step back. "How did you—"

He gives her a long look. "Now, I see," he says. "You. Cautus. It's you. You, are her... successor.⁵¹ Theresis, lied. The King... had a... successor.

"You are... the Lord of Fiends."⁵²

Kal'tsit makes a slightly strangled noise, glancing between him and Amiya, and back again.⁵³ "Ah—"

"To die, at the hands, of... the King of Sarkaz. In the end, I could not, escape fate. No. No... No."

"Amiya—" Kal'tsit looks over at her, sternly. "You can't—"

She reddens, and shuffles in place in a way that's grossly incongrous with the current topic.⁵⁴ "S-Sorry! B-But—Dr. Kal'tsit..."

"I heard, in the past..." Even weak, Patriot's voice still rings out. "Lords of Sarkaz, gave visions of comfort, as favors. Their champions, could see great walls, or loves long passed–"⁵⁵ He turns his head, as if to look into the distance. "Countless soldiers, for these visions, fought ceaselessly."

Amiya ducks her head. "I just, I only—Mr. Patriot, I didn't mean to—I didn't want..."

She bites her lip. "The end of your life—it shouldn't be so tragic! I saw... your two hundred years of life, the constant fighting, and so much loss...⁵⁶ I don't—I don't want that to be your end!"

"My, end?" He looks down at her. "No."

"I wanted to give you... a better—"

"No!" He still has some vehemence left in him, it seems. Even here. Even now. "My end, is not, someone else's, to give! A vision? No! That is not my end! If it is tragic, then it is tragic. If foolish, then foolish!" He grips the end of the half of his halberd he still holds tightly.⁵⁷ "This is, my end. The end... I deserve. I lived. I fought. I failed."

And one more exhale from him, like a sigh. "It's, enough."

Amiya makes a small, frustrated noise, brow furrowing. "Why? Why—why is it enough?⁵⁸ No one should have to lose everything like this!"

His shoulders stoop a little bit, head drooping to one side. "...You are still, a child."

"I'm not a child!" Amiya bristles, in a way that sort of undercuts her statement; her fists ball at her sides.⁵⁹ "I've been in more battles than I can count!"

But he shakes his head. "...A good ending, is never earned. Only children, believe in, happily ever after. You, and my daughter, are only children, who believe in, fairy tales."

There's a growing bitterness to his voice, as he continues. "I told FrostNova, too heavy... too heavy. I disagreed, with her. She was... a young girl. Only a child. Oripathy, slavers, our world... won't even spare, a child." He glances toward the high control tower, and the silence lingers for a long moment.⁶⁰ "Talulah, sent her, to die."

"Th-then, why not join us and fight Talulah tog—" She's trying. She believes, in her own way, that she can make this right,⁶¹ somehow—she has the faith you can't, and...

...was she reminding you of Theresa all this time?

"What can you, give me? You cannot, even give, what Talulah, once gave me. And—later, what will you, become?" He bows his head. "This is fate. I tasted, too much. I will never, bow to fate. Even if, every time, fate brings me, to the same... end..."

For a moment, you think he's going to trail off there for the last time. But after a long pause, he begins again. "I would rather, wrestle it, until again, the sun rises. But... Maybe, you can change." He draws a long, rattling breath. "I fought fate, so many years... in the end, I could not win. But you... Maybe you're, different..."

His shoulders sag, taking his great horned head almost down to Amiya's level. "Do you have, what it takes, to succeed the King?"⁶²

Amiya bites her lip. "Ah..."

"Do you have, the power, to leave, alive? Do you have, the courage, and insight, to step into, the infinite, wilderness?"

"I can't do it alone," says Amiya, quietly. And then—she glances back at you, at Kal'tsit, at Rosmontis. "But I'm not alone."

Patriot gives a light huff of breath. "Maybe... everything... is yours. Only you... can do it."

His voice fades; the pauses become longer. "That... Reunion, tyrant, fate... You will... overthrow them."

A shadow falls over you—the clouds thicken overhead with an uncanny suddenness, casting the entire square in an evening darkness.⁶³ You frown—but Kal'tsit's chin jerks up, and she reaches for Amiya.

"All operators—" Kal'tsit snaps, quickly, shouting loud enough it causes your earpiece to shriek with feedback; if you thought she seemed strained before—no. She really is afraid, this time.⁶⁴

"Anything he says—anything Buldrokkas'tee says—do not, repeat, do not believe a single word—"

He speaks—his voice echoing like a thousand voices—

I see cities, devastated.
I see Originium, blanketing the land.
I see you, black crown on your head, melting millions of lives, into nothing but memories.
I see the, King of Sarkaz, enslaving all peoples, everywhere.

Amiya stands there, mouth open—but she doesn't respond, her eyes fluttering open and closed, like she's in a dream.⁶⁵ But Patriot's head jerks up, as if he's just woken. "...Wh... at? Impossible—No..."

There's genuine panic in Kal'tsit's voice, and she takes a step forward, toward Amiya. "Patriot! Don't believe the prophecy! It's just a physiological side effect of the Originium Arts—"⁶⁶

"But... But I know..." He struggles to speak—all the while, struggling back to his feet. "All the prophecies... come true. And I died, at the hands of, the King of Sarkaz."

He shakes himself upright, jerkily; he flexes his great clawed hand. "...Dame. No. Dame."

Kal'tsit makes a gesture like she's readying herself to reach for a weapon. "Buldrokkas'tee! Did you not fight against fate your entire life—"

She casts a glance at you, wild-eyed, but you're watching Amiya, eyes narrowed.⁶⁷ No. You made a bet, and—⁶⁸

And what you do is win. So even when Patriot advances, his hand outstretched as if to crush Amiya's head—even as Kal'tsit and Rosmontis dash forward—

Amiya looks up at him, clear-eyed, and her resolve does not waver. Her arts lance into him, heavy black blades that hardly seem to affect him. If you're wrong—

But you're not.⁶⁹ His arm outstretched—stops. And then—he stops, forever.

And, improbably—the sky over Chernobog breaks, and you watch with bafflement and a strange kind of wonder as snowflakes touch down on your cupped hand.

[43] If you die, FrostNova died for nothing. Ace died for nothing. Scout died for nothing. How many—

[44] This does not precisely help you catch your breath.

[45] It's not much. You can barely keep your head in the present moment because you're also, in a way, in a wide array of future moments, to stay just a step ahead, and it takes a lot out of you as far as being a person.

[46] In that moment, he might not hate you, but you hate him—just a little bit, for every new drop of blood this girl has on her hands.

[47] You decide you hate results.

[48] Maybe it's just because you've felt so rootless, so unsure of your footing in this place that is your home—to know, in the end, you'll always return to a place that knows you...
There's something that seems beautiful about that. You're quite certain you'll never have anything like it.

[49] Still melancholy, though.

[50] It's a little like what you felt scant days ago in the abandoned sub-city—but not quite. The flow of... emotion, and memory, maybe, but it's not directed toward you, this time.

[51] You stiffen; your blood feels like it runs cold.

[52] The Lord of Fiends, the King of Sarkaz—Theresa. And now—you should have realized. Maybe you didn't want to realize, but now the pieces fall into place. Amiya is Amiya, but—like a reflection through a kaleidoscope, you see it now.
And something about this fills you with a deep-rooted, unmatched dread.

[53] And, for a moment, to you—at which point you just kind of raise your eyebrows at her, because what the hell else can you do right now.

[54] Not royalty—just a girl. And yet.

[55] For a moment you have a flicker of an idea of—what could Amiya show you, of the things you ought to remember? But on the other hand, you're not sure you want that.

[56] ...this begs the question of how much of your past Amiya might well know, but—maybe she agrees with Kal'tsit, that it should come back to you naturally. Or maybe it's just that there's a lot of stuff there that no one in their right mind wants to touch, because you're certainly starting to feel that way.

[57] Even now, his grip drives it into the ground, denting the asphalt. Here you don't even have a fraction of that strength when you've gotten ten hours of sleep.

[58] Something about the anguish in her voice... gives your stomach a sick twist of empathy. You can push your own emotions to the side, but the strength of hers is almost overpowering.

[59] He's right, though. You agree. You hate this.

[60] There's anger there, but—melancholy. He may not be a man to whom faith comes easily, but—for a while, you're sure, as much as he protests... he wanted to believe.

[61] And that... you suppose, is why she is the CEO of Rhodes Island, rather than Kal'tsit, rather than you—because while you two are cynical sad bastards, she can still be a visionary.

[62] This... you didn't know this. How long has Amiya known? How long has she been carrying this on her shoulders? You don't even know what that means, and the way her lower lip worries, you know she has to have been thinking about it for some time.

[63] So sudden it's like a Catastrophe onset—you can't tell whether the clouds above you are going to shower precipitation or ash. Not so different from that nightmare day in Chernobog, and you wrap your arms around your waist, reflexively.

[64] And whatever can make Kal'tsit of all people afraid—that chills you to the very bone. You didn't even think that was a thing she could do?

[65] What she must be doing with her strange arts... if she's already read his whole life, what more is she looking to understand? Or is she, also... reacting to whatever is happening?
Oh hell that's worrying.

[66] You really wish you had any idea what Kal'tsit was talking about right now because it is clearly rattling her—and also, somehow, she knew... it would be bad. But you're also aware that she is never going to explain shit to you.

[67] Her eyelashes stop fluttering; she closes her eyes. You can see her take a deep breath, in and out—centering herself.

[68] And you could be wrong. You're not a miracle-worker; you're not omniscient, and you only work with what you have. But even if you're no optimist—you don't need faith for this. You know Amiya, even though this "you" only met her barely a month ago. And so, you stand.

[69] Because, that's the thing—even if he sees in her another Talulah, another tyrant to be, at one time he saw worth in Talulah—and cared for her. And, perhaps, still does. He has cared for so many children who have now left him, and in Amiya—in his Lord of Fiends—
Even though you can't see his true face through his mask, even if his voice is stilted, you can read it in his motions. There's a tenderness he has to resist, even now, on the brink of death, and that's the only weapon you need.