Chapter Text
“Aspirant.”
“…Legislacerator.” You wipe the blood at the corner of your mouth and cast your gaze up up up, up at they whom has become your pursuer. Their figure is familiar yet not, the triangular rods of their horns now molted into deadly points, eyes glossed over into featureless auqa; they are everything you should have feared yet not cautious enough to prevent.
Shaking, you push the body of an assassin off you, and rise to face your runation. The corpse lands among its fellows with a soft splap.
As you rise, you realize you’re taller than them. Of course, of course you are, but knowing and seeing are different things, and witnessing the most illustvicious of the Empress’s lawkeepers shrink in front of you sits wrongly in your vision. Still. It won’t take much. The assassins’ victory is a painfully present work in progress; the tip of a spear has broken off in your ribcage, penetrating shallowly enough that there is still a decent chunk of jagged metal big enough to put a fist around. Poison flows through your veins, the malignant coating capable of killing seadwellers within minutes, carefully crafted to swell lungs and paralyze muscles. For Royalty? Without reaching a medicalizer, you have hours. All someone needs to do is slow you down.
“It appears you have done well for yourself,” you comment. True, if relative.
“I, unfortunately, cannot say the same for you.” They look at you, maddeningly, intoxicatingly impassive, just as they have always been. “Your struggle against Her has always been ill-fated, Aspirant.”
The wind blows on this alien planet you can’t bother to remember the name of.
“I did warn you.”
They did. They don’t sound happy to be right. For the ages that have passed between you, you have never seen them happy at all—if there was ever someone who could understand the troll before you, it is not you.
You grunt. You have no more words to give. If there is a chance, you’re going to fight, and it won’t stop until there is another body lying on the dry dirt of a place too far from home.
Knowing your luck, it will be more than one.
You wrap your fingers around the spear and pull.
-- striationedCyberian [SC] began trolling sucroseCranium [SC]--
SC: You have left me.
SC: Again.
SC: ~relax sc~
SC: ~youre a big girl~
SC: ~you can take care of your~elf for a little while without my constant and dazzling ~upervi~ion~
SC: It iz continuingly perplexing to me that you continue to invite me to theze eventz, only to ditch me mere minutez after arriving.
SC: ~i didnt ditch you~
SC: ~i just went to meet up with ~ome friend~~
SC: Ah yez.
SC: The mysteriouz friend group.
SC: No doubt you will imprezz them today with your ztudiouz knowledge of galactic cyber zecurity.
SC: The topic of which is zo mind numbingly interezting to anyone who iz not you.
SC: Why, again, doez meeting them preclude abandoning me at a hacking convention I care nothing about?
SC: ~aw zar~
SC: ~if you were jealou~, you ~hould have just ~aid so };)~
SC: Iz that what all thiz iz?
SC: Zome roundabout attempt at black flirting?
SC: ~ha no~
SC: ~you just need to get out of the aquarium every once in a while~
SC: ~im nothing if not altrui~tic~
SC: I zee.
SC: Of course.
SC: And your habitual ditching is also a symptom of blatant zelflezznezz?
SC: ~nah~
SC: ~i just cant be seen with you lol~
SC: ~like i said ~i~ you are one big girl~
SC: ~im already struggling to keep up with normal clown~ ~ize wise~
SC: ~i ~tart walking the floor with you, my personal e~teem globe~ are going to ~hrivel up right there~
SC: ~it aint ea~y being a wiggler in a murder cannibal world }:(~
SC: Even when attempting to illicit zympathy, you ztill manage to blood prezzure to rize.
SC: ~ha yeah~
SC: ~im good at that~
SC: Zo what do you zuggest I do in this horrid place while waiting for you bring back the keyz to your zcuttlebuggy?
SC: ~i told you zar~
SC: ~relax~
SC: ~vi~it ~ome of the booth~~
SC: ~maybe watch a panel or two~
SC: ~in the meantime the three of u~ are just going ~traight chillin~
SC: ~!~o unclench your nook and enjoy the con!~
SC: You cannot zeriously expect to rub arm nubz with theze
SC: Zombra you better not have muted me.
SC: ZOMBRA.
SC: Guh.
SC: Why muzt theze thingz happen zpecially to me.
-- striationedCyberian [SC] ceased trolling sucroseCranium [SC] --
-- striationedCyberian [SC] began trolling lynxSeventeen [LS]--
SC: There iz no moral way to juztify handing over the care of wigglerz to zelf-zufficient, non-dizcerning automatonz.
SC: Removing jadebloodz’ will make worze the flawz within the breeding zyztem, not get rid of them. Also, it iz repugnant. Your argument haz so many holez it iz like you are becoming zome zort of breathing ztraw man.
SC: Alzo
SC: The idea that dronez are not only a necezzary evil but the natural troll zociety goez beyond propaganda into zheer ztupidity.
SC: Alzo
SC: Your claim that dronez can never be hacked? Blatant falsehoodz. I have KNOWN trollz who have done zo, and one must bury their head in the zand to have never heard ZOMETHING from a non-imperial newz zource. How iz it even pozzible for one perzon to hold zo much claptrap inzide their head?
SC: Zimply
SC: Inconceivable.
LS: Are you qui7e finished.
SC: …
SC: I zuppose I am. For now.
LS: I must say, of a11 the fan mai1 I have ever received, 7his is by far 7he most fascina7ing.
SC: Thiz is not fan mail. I am not a fan.
LS: Qui7e.
LS: And ye7 you have a reasonab1e fami1iari7y with my common 7heses. S7range how 7ha7 has come 7o pass.
SC: I zaw your panel at the hackathon. The entire hour was zo abzurd I could not believe any would buy your oinkbeaztwash.
LS: You’d be surprised.
LS: But it is my guess 7hat someone as readi1y disp1aying of such menta1 acumen as yourse1f was not ac7ua11y at my pane1 of 7heir own vo1i7ion. More 1ike1y you were 1ooking for 7he Gratuitous C1eaver Murder Rumb1e that was happening a few rooms down.
LS: Or if you 7ruly do fancy yourself a scho1ar of cyber-po1i7ics, maybe 1 am no7 7he one who needs to 1if7 7heir head above 7he sand.
LS: Or waves as i7 were.
LS: Bu7 no ma77er.
LS: I do be1ieve we missed 7he par7 of 7he conversa7ion where you 7old me your name.
SC: …
SC: I am Zarya.
LS: And I am 1ynx.
LS: Now Zarya, do 7ell me how you go7 a hold of my Skorge hand1e?
SC: Wait, what waz thiz about wavez?
SC: I did not zay I was a zeadweller.
LS: Oh, my mis7ake. 7hat smug sense of superiori7y must have been waf7ing 7hrough my window ins7ead of radia7ing off 7he fuchsia 7ext of an inf1a7ed Empress Role-p1ayer.
SC: I
SC: Never mind.
SC: Zombra gave it to me. Zhe knew who you were when I azked.
LS: Ah, I see.
LS: Should I be honored 7hat you were so enamored wi7h me you hand 7o ask for my number?
SC: You zhould not.
LS: So you know: my pane1 was ac7ua11y an hour and a ha1f.
LS: Perhaps 7he ha1f an hour you missed migh7 have con7ained some7hing 7ha7 swayed you 7o my side?
SC: I highly doubt that. And you ztill have not rezponded to my original point.
LS: Ah. Yes as much as I would 1ove to si7 around so you can des7roy me with fac7s and 1ogic, my 1eaff1uidke771e has jus7 started to whis71e. I’d 1ove reconvene af7er 1unch, if that sui7s your schedu1e?
SC: What?
SC: No
LS: Exce11ent! See you in a few.
-- lynxSeventeen [LS] ceased trolling striationedCyberian [SC]--
SC: You cannot weazel your way out of thiz, I demand you
SC: You
SC: Baztard.
-- striationedCyberian [SC] ceased trolling lynxSeventeen [LS]--
-- striationedCyberian [SC] began trolling sucroseCranium [SC]--
SC: ~so~
SC: ~did ~wimming with the ~icke~t ~quad in we~t alternia live up to all the hype?
SC: Conzidering there waz abzolutely no hype, I zuppose it did.
SC: ~haha ~c you wild~
SC: ~but im right right~
SC: ~theyre ~uper cool~
SC: I will allow they are an interezting bunch.
SC: Very ztrong.
SC: Undeniably dangerouz.
SC: ~!yeah!~
SC: ~it wa~ rough getting them to get along but i managed~
SC: ~were a real ~quad now~
SC: ~team talon at your ~ervice~
SC: Team Talon? Iz that not the name of the zmuggling crew?
SC: ~!you got it!~
SC: ~their leader ha~ been alive for ~weep~~
SC: ~he~ thi~ bronzeblood and everyone want~ him dead becau~e but they ju~t cant catch him~
SC: ~were going to join up with him once we get off planet~
SC: I
SC: Zee.
SC: ~what~
SC: Nothing. I zaid, “I zee.”
SC: ~there wa~ an awful long pau~e in between tho~e eye~ and ~ea~~
SC: My luzuz was azking me zomething.
SC: ~hmmm okayyyy~
SC: ~you know you can never hide anything from me zarya~
SC: ~i got a no~e for ~eeeeeecret~~
SC: Yez I am very aware. However, there iz nothing to hide, I was merely diztracted.
SC: ~haha ok };)~
SC: ~!oh!~
SC: ~i forgot to a~k while you were top~ide did you ever me~~age that tealblood you were hatecru~hing on~
SC: Uhg
SC: Don’t remind me.
SC: ~lol why~
SC: They are the zingle most irritating being I have ever had the dizpleazure of meeting. Every word they type iz a parade of aquamarine zeazicknezz acrozz my vision.
SC: They have beaten the word zmugnezz zo thoroughly they could wear it az a coat.
SC: In the pazt three weekz they have managed to dodge every one of my counterpointz
SC: Refuzed to honor even the zimplezt of debating customz
SC: And overall have been a massive twit.
SC: ~ooooh ~omeboys in haaatteee~
SC: Ztop that. I am nothing of the zort.
SC: Not to mention they keep zprinkling in azinine crypticismz purely because they know it annoyz me.
SC: ~haha what~
SC: ~like what~
SC: Like
SC: I do not know. It iz hard to explain.
SC: Like about how we have now “tied our fatez permanently”, and that we’ve “begun our forward zpiral towardz our inevitable concluzion”
SC: And other zuch nonzenze.
SC: ~wow i know i ju~t used the word wild but wild~
SC: ~i never would have expected that~ what theyd be like in real life~
SC: ~but i gue~~ weird riddle whi~pering isnt a per~onality trait youd pick up from ~omeone~ work~
SC: Do they actually have zome rezume of hacking zkillz or iz everything they ~ay just ignorant cyber-politicz?
SC: ~lol are you kidding~
SC: ~theyre probably the bigge~t expert on remote drone reprogramming~
SC: ~wrote the book on it~
SC: ~literally~
SC: ~getting a copy is ~uper illegal btw~
SC: ~but yeah theyre probably the be~t hacker in the world~
SC: ~~ave for your~ truly of cour~e };)~
SC: You can’t be zeriouz.
SC: ~i can when i want to be~
SC: But everything they zay is zo pro Empress.
SC: And I mean EVERYTHING.
SC: They are the embodiment of everything wrong with the apathetic upper classes
SC: ~uh~
SC: ~yeah~
SC: ~that~ kind of the point lol~
SC: ~its like ~atire or some ~hit~
SC: But
SC: No, it iz too concize. And not funny in the zlightezt.
SC: ~but that~ the big joke tho~
SC: ~~~pau~e for honk~~~
SC: ~it~ like really obviou~ if you just li~ten~
SC: ~and ignore all of the “prai~e the empire” and “for the glory of troll~” ~hit~
SC: ~all that~ left is a really pretty picture of why them kid~ are all fucked up my dude~
SC: ~rever~e mad lib~~
SC: ~where you gotta blot out the garbage and read in between~
SC: I don’t believe it.
SC: ~believe it ~i~ter~
SC: ~why do you think all their follower~ are lowblood~~
SC: ~let me gue~~~
SC: ~you were the only ~eadweller in that crowd werent you~
SC: ~or I gue~~ royalty pretending to be a ~eadweller~
SC: I
SC: Perhapz I waz. I do not recall.
SC: ~yes you doooo~
SC: ~i know when youre lying to me zar~
SC: Zhut up.
SC: I need
SC: Zome time to think on this.
SC: ~okay lol~
SC: ~lmk when youre done with your cri~i~~
SC: ~we can play culled by daylight when youre done~
SC: Goodbye Zombra.
-- striationedCyberian [SC] began trolling sucroseCranium [SC]--
-- striationedCyberian [SC] began trolling lynxSeventeen [LS]--
SC: I cannot believe you lead me on thiz ridiculouz charade or az long az you did.
SC: Was thiz really ZUCH a good way to zpend your time that you let it perzizt for four perigeez?
LS: Despi7e 7he evidence 7o 7he con7rary, I do some7imes need con7ex7.
LS: Wha7 are you on abou7 Zaryan.
SC: You are a revolutionary.
SC: All of you, everything you have ever written.
LS: How dare you. I happen 7o 1ove and adore our 7yrannica1 over1ord.
SC: Zee
SC: There it iz again.
SC: And you let me prattle on at you for agez when the whole time you agreed with everything I was zaying.
LS: I wou1dn’7 say every7hing.
SC: So why do thiz? What waz all thiz for?
LS: Zarya, I unders7and i7 must be difficu17 for you 7o imagine 7ha7 peop1e have mo7iva7ions 7ha7 don’7 revo1ve en7ire1y around you.
LS: If 7he purrbeas7 is en7ire1y ou7 of 7he bag a7 this poin7, and you have somehow go77en pas7 a11 my in7rica7e1y 1ayered sub7ex7 7ha7 mus7 have 7aken you eons 7o crack, 7hen I wi11 admi7 7ha7 a7 firs7 I simp1y 7hough7 you were a ra7her poor imperia1 spy.
SC: A what
LS: 7hen, I rea1ized 7ha7 even a poor spy wou1dn’7 be 7ha7 obvious.
LS: And 7hen I began 7o wonder if maybe you were ac7ua11y a *fan7as7ic* spy and were ac7ing so b1a7an71y obvious 7o make me be1ieve you were a poor spy in order 7o 1u11 me in7o a fa1se sense of securi7y.
LS: However, wha7 u17ima7e1y convinced me of your au7hen7ici7y is 7ha7 a spy of any reasonab1e in7e11igence wou1dn’7 bo7her pes7ering me for weeks on end, when 7hey cou1d jus7 simp1y send a few drones af7er me if 7hey had even a passing suspicion.
SC: You believed ME to be the imperial lout?
LS: Of course.
LS: Why wou1d a 7rue revo1u7ionary be so b1a7an7 7o a comp1e7e s7ranger if no7 for 7he purposes of ou7ward appearances?
LS: Gran7ed, 7his 1ine of 1ogic does no7 accoun7 for 7he fac7 7ha7 some 7ro11s jus7 7ha7 s7upid.
LS: How you have managed 7o survive 7his 1ong wi7hou7 being cu11ed is u77er1y unfa7homab1e 7o me.
SC: I am not stupid.
LS: No?
LS: You con7ac7ed someone who you be1ieved 7o be a 1oya1 boo71icker pure1y 7o shou7 a7 7hem abou7 how wrong 7hey were.
SC: But you were being zo
SC: Uhg, thiz iz ridiculouz.
SC: You ztill continued your charade even after you knew I waz no zpy.
LS: Hm?
LS: Oh yes.
LS: 7hat is because I 7hough7 i7 was very funny.
SC: UHG. You are IMPOZZIBLE.
SC: I cannot believe I wazted all thiz time on zomeone zo utterly up their own nook they could not honeztly zit down and dizcuzz the future of our galaxy.
LS: Hm, now 7here’s a sen7ence.
LS: Bu7 I’m no7 7he on1y one who’s been hiding 7heir 7rue mo7iva7ions behind 1ayers of de1ibera7e omission.
LS: Heiress.
SC: …
LS: I’m sure 7ha7 is a7 1eas7 fac7ors par7ia11y in7o why you have no7 been execu7ed ye7 for your ra7her b1a7an7 7reason.
LS: Her Imperia1 Condescension does 1ike 7o wai7 un7i1 her sis7ers are a bi7 7a11er before forking 7hem.
SC: You give her too much credit.
SC: I am off the grid currently. Zombra has made sure I cannot be tracked through Zkorge.
SC: Otherwize I would have been killed a long time ago.
LS: Your version of “off 7he grid” has pu7 you ridicu1ous1y ou7 of 7ouch wi7h 7he res7 of A17ernia.
LS: And rea1i7y.
SC: It iz hardly my fault I do not get on land much.
LS: Ah yes. 7he sea. She’11 never 7hink 7o 1ook for you 7here.
SC: Thiz iz entirely irrelevant. Regardlezz of my zuppozed obligation to challenge Her, I dezpize the conditionz on thiz godforzaken planet az much az anyone.
LS: Ye7 you are 7he one 7ro11 on 7he p1ane7 wi7h 7he power 7o s7op i7.
SC: I can’t.
SC: If I begin to take an active role on the planet, the Condezce will take notice. After then, it iz a countdown until zhe decidez I am too troublezome.
LS: So you are biding your 7ime 7hen? P1anning some g1orious over7hrow?
LS: Is 7ha7 why you spend your nigh7s si77ing in your hive and picking figh7s on 7he in7erne7 whi1e hiding behind your more compe7en7 friends?
SC: You do not to get to judge me. At leazt I am preparing for the future.
SC: Not writing pointlezz zatirical bookz undercut with zelf-gratifying amountz of nihilizm.
LS: I was no7 judging.
LS: In fac7, I ac7ua11y empa7hize wi7h your si7ua7ion.
SC: But you just zaid
LS: I7 was mere1y an observa7ion.
LS: In ac7ua1i7y, I can see no c1ear mora1 ou7s for you.
LS: Begin 7aking an ac7ive ro1e in p1ane7ary affairs, be77ering 7he 1ives of 7ro11s in 7he 1ower cas7es: 7he Condesce sees you as a weak and unwor7hy cha11enger, and f1ies back 7o cu11 you.
LS: Begin ru1ing wi7h an iron fis7: 7he Condesce sees you as s7rong and a 7hrea7 7o her 7hrone, and f1ies back 7o cu11 you.
LS: In 1igh7 of 7he a17erna7ives, I unders7and choosing se1f-preserva7ion.
SC: I
SC: I am not zo zure. It zeemz zo pointlezz when you put it like that.
LS: 7ha7 is wha7 choosing no7 7o choose of7en is.
LS: I7 does no7 seem 1ike you’ve had much oppor7uni7y for se1f-ref1ec7ion in your 1i771e 1ife of ado1escen7 rebe11ion. Which isn’7 unsurprising; forming ones opinions isn’7 as easy we firs7 7hink.
LS: If you wou1d 1ike, I wou1d be happy 7o do away wi7h 7he fa1se personas and obscured b1ood 7o begin our discussion again.
LS: Despi7e previous impressions, I am ac7ua11y qui7e happy 7o exchange views on ma77ers I consider impor7an7 7o 7he co11ec7ive 7ro11 experience.
SC: Why do I feel by zaying, I am opening up myzelf to yet more znappyz inzultz about my failure az an heirezz?
LS: Oh mos7 assured1y.
SC: Uhg.
SC: Well.
SC: At least it won’t be any worze.
-- striationedCyberian [SC] began trolling sucroseCranium [SC]--
SC: ~yo~
SC: ~you back from vacay yet~
SC: Yez. I arrived home thiz morning.
SC: ~!awe~ome!~
SC: ~how wa~ ~outh alternia~
SC: It waz
SC: Pleazant.
SC: The seaz there are much warmer.
SC: ~and I bet the company is too };)~
SC: Make no miztake
SC: Lynx Zeventeen iz ztill a dreadful and inzufferable prick.
SC: Regardlezz if we are the zame page ideologically or not, they are far too high up on their hoofbeazt to engage in anything outzide of a profezzional relationzhip.
SC: ~yeah right~
SC: ~if I had known all it would take to get you thi~ pitched I would have been making ~oapbox ~peeche~ ~weep~ ago~
SC: No you wouldn’t have.
SC: You dole out blackroom flirtationz like zweet grubz on Harfezt.
SC: ~yowch haha~
SC: I mean it.
SC: The pozzibility of you actually acquiring an actual kizmeziz would require zuch mental gymnazticz I could easily become a competitor in the trolyipics if I considered the notion.
SC: ~lol little har~h don’t you think~
SC: ~i mean no need to kick a girl while ~he’s down~
SC: At thiz point I am ztarting to believe you are incapable of legitimate hatred.
SC: Zufferer knowz everything you’ve plied me with haz been az empty az the rezt of your relationzhipz.
SC: ~…~
SC: Anyway.
SC: Lynx and I have been dizcuzzing the philozophical purpoze of an Emprezz in troll zociety. Whether a collective governing body of zuch vaztly different troll caztez could function without a central authority keeping them in line.
SC: Or if there had to be zome zort of compromize between thoze two optionz, would that central authority necezzarily have to be the Emprezz?
SC: I zuppozed without the conztant cycle of inheritance and azcenzion, the fuchzia bloodz would ztart to pile up
SC: But it iz interezting to think about.
SC: Zombra are you ztill there?
SC: ~hm~
SC: ~uh yeah I gue~~~
SC: ~actually I ju~t remembered I gotta church thing I gotta go to~
SC: Oh. Well have fun at that. I can continue to fill you in on my “vacay” once you return.
SC: ~right~
SC: ~ok~
SC: ~bye~
-- sucroseCranium [SC] ceased trolling striationedCyberian [SC] --
-- striationedCyberian [SC] began trolling lynxSeventeen [LS]--
SC: I waz conzidering how to handle prozpect of planetary defenze, zhould thingz come down to it, and I think I have an idea.
SC: It involvez the commandeering of zeveral key Z grade battle cruizerz, but iz theoretically pozzible.
SC: Of courze, the ideal zcenario involvez mozt fighting occurring far away from Alternia
SC: But the zcenario will be good to plan for.
LS: I do love when you start a conversation right in the middle. Very efficient.
SC: I am zeriouz.
SC: If we are to zucceed, we will need to have a practical plan, rather than juzt an ideological one.
LS: No7hing wrong wi7h considering one’s fu7ure, I suppose.
SC: Exac71y.
LS: …
SC: But yez the cruizerz. Getting them iz a problem to be zolved, but zo long az they deterer precizion mizzile attackz, they would more than pay for the trouble.
SC: Zhe would never totally wipe the planet, not zo long az the mother grubz remain here.
LS: You seem awfu11y gung ho a11 of a sudden. Has 7he big squid fina11y prodded your 7hinkpan a 1i771e 7oo hard?
SC: No?
SC: I have told you, my pzychic connection with Gl'bgolyb iz zubztantially weaker than that of the Condezce.
SC: My luzuz talkz more to me than zhe ever doez.
SC: You are being unuzually cagey about thiz, even for you.
LS: Am I?
SC: Do you fear the fighting?
SC: If zo you needn’t worry. If we develop our alliez well, you needn’t fight if you do not want to. With any luck I won’t be the only zturdy highblood on our zide.
SC: All I waz trying to zay iz that we need to begin confronting the fact that our time iz limited. That unlezz we are prepared, we all may die before getting off planet, let alone before enacting any real change.
SC: It iz time we zettled on a three-zweep plan. Gathering planetary and interplanetary alliez, conzidering how bezt to avoid pzychic influence.
SC: I wizh to ztart looking at adultz who may be zympathetic to our cauze.
SC: Or at leazt, are anti-Emprezz.
SC: What say you? Have you thought any about the immediate future?
LS: 7ha7 a11 sounds very appea1ing.
LS: I wou1d 1ove 7o join you, if no7 for 7he fac7 7ha7 in 7hree sweeps I wi11 mos7 1ike1y be 7oo busy s7udying for my bar 7o par7icipa7e in open anarchy.
SC: Wh
SC: What?
LS: 7he 1egis1acera7or exams are qui7e grue1ing. Oh 7rue 7ha7 a more bureaucra7ic posi7ion wou1d be more sui7ed 7o my ski11s, bu7 I be1ieve 7he pres7ige and essen7ia1i7y of 1egis1acera7ora7ing brings wi7h i7 much 1ower cu11ing ra7es.
SC: A legislacerator would
SC: Oh
SC: I zee. That waz a joke.
SC: Well haha to another one of your ztupid attemptz to incur my annoyance. Well done I zuppoze
SC: But I really wizh you would take thiz zeriouzly.
LS: …
LS: I suppose a77emp7ing 7o hide wi7hin my own wi77icisms was no7 a wise choice.
LS: Zarya. I won’7 be joining you in your rebe11ion.
SC: What…what iz that zupposed to mean?
LS: Exac71y wha7 i7 sounds 1ike.
LS: When 7he 7ime comes I wi11 be joining 7he res7 of my fe11ow gradua7es in 7he imperia1 f1ee7.
SC: I
SC: I do not underztand? You are zubmitting to them?
SC: YOU of all people? You have written pagez, ezzayz, BOOKZ on how imperializm and military expanzion in general have deztroyed our galaxy—have cruzhed itz own citizenz under foot—and you are walking over to their zide without a fight?
LS: You are righ7.
LS: I have spen7 my who1e 1igh7 knowing some7hing was wrong.
LS: I have dedica7ed, hypo7hesized, poured over every revo1u7ionary 7ex7 7ha7 hasn’7 been des7royed in 7he sweeps since someone 1as7 7ried 7o wre7ch our co11ec7ive heads ou7 of 7he mud. I am perhaps 7he on1y surviving exper7 in 7he fie1d of socie7a1 decay, 7he res7 driven ou7 or driven down.
LS: I have seen every possibi1i7y, I have ana1yzed every choice. I have spen7 my who1e 1ife researching, 7o 7he poin7 where I can say 7his wi7h 7he upmos7 confidence:
LS: I7 is a11 poin71ess.
SC: No, no it iz not.
LS: I7 is Zarya.
LS: 7here is no s7ra7egy you can concoc7 7ha7 wi11 over7hrow a being mi11ions of sweeps in 7he making. 7here is no possib1e series of even7s where we save anyone, excep7 possib1y ourse1ves in a momen7 of doub1e suicide 7o avoid 7he ex7ensive 7or7ure we wou1d face when we were fina11y hun7ed and cap7ured.
LS: We wou1d be doomed 7he momen7 we said 7he word “freedom” a1oud.
SC: I…I do not believe thiz?
SC: All thiz time you…
LS: …
LS: I am sorry.
LS: I did no7 mean for 7ha7 7o be some sor7 of dire reve1a7ion. I7 is jus7 I spend a grea7 dea1 of effor7 7rying no7 7o appear hope1ess.
SC: Thiz iz you not being hopelezz?
LS: No, this is me not *appearing* hopeless.
SC: I ztill cannot
SC: You are no coward. I know thiz.
SC: There iz ztill a future out there for uz Lynx Zeventeen. We know thiz iz not how thingz zhould be, and it iz our duty to do zomething about it.
SC: We MUZT.
LS: Maybe you mus7.
LS: Maybe your ro1e in 7his sys7em is 7o be raised up. 7o cha11enge her.
LS: And I wish wi7h every fiber of my being 7ha7 I cou1d be1ieve you are righ7.
LS: Bu7 I know 7he way 7his ends. If I mus7 choose be7ween 1ife and dea7h, I wi11 choose 1ife.
SC: You cannot give up. I will not let you.
LS: …
LS: 7his is ge77ing qui7e heavy. Perhaps we shou1d 7ab1e 7his discussion for now? I am sure we wi11 be in a be77er p1ace wi7h a good day’s s1eep.
SC: Lynx pleaze.
LS: …
-- lynxSeventeen [LS] ceased trolling striationedCyberian [SC]--
-- striationedCyberian [SC] began trolling sucroseCranium [SC]--
-- striationedCyberian [SC] began trolling sucroseCranium [SC]--
-- striationedCyberian [SC] began trolling sucroseCranium [SC]--
-- widowMaker [WM] began trolling striationedCyberian [SC]--
WM: Hello.
SC: Er
SC: Hello?
WM: Is this Aleksa Zaryan?
SC: It iz juzt Zarya. Who are you? And how did you get my handle?
WM: My name is Amelie. I am one of Sombra’s friends.
SC: Ah, wait.
SC: I remember now. The zeadweller.
SC: You are the one who iz alwayz hanging around Zombra and her
WM: Moirail.
SC: Moirail.
WM: So it would seem.
SC: Jegus Christ.
SC: Every detail revealz even more of a mezz. I almozt feel bad.
WM: Mmhm.
SC: Zo why are you contacting me?
WM: Sombra has received several attempts at communication from you over the period of the past half a sweep, none of which she has reciprocated.
WM: She has prefaced these with the statement that she is “~uper bu~y”, but I find that unlikely.
WM: What exactly have you been trying to tell her?
SC: Why do I get the feeling you have already znooped through her mezzagez and are merely doing thiz to tezt me?
WM: Ridiculous.
WM: I do not snoop.
SC: Hm.
SC: Dubiouz.
SC: But if you muzt know I waz looking for camaraderie. I have recently learned that a
SC: Friend
SC: Of mine, haz zome ideological differencez from me.
SC: We have tried to maintain correzpondence zince dizcovering thiz, but it iz juzt not the zame. I had hoped Zombra might offer advice.
WM: I see.
WM: Quite the woeful predicament.
WM: My curiosity is sated then.
WM: Which brings me to the reason I contacted you:
WM: You should probably frighten me. I am aware that should you choose, you could order your drones to shoot me & put my head on a bloody pike & parade it around the town square. I keep this all in mind when I tell you:
WM: Back Off.
SC: Excuze me?
WM: I do not care who you are, but if you attempt to contact Zombra again, I will zwim down there & rip out your zpine.
SC: I…What? What is all that supposed to mean?
WM: You have been Sombra’s friend for an exceedingly long time. & yet, you seem very dismissive of all she has done for you.
WM: You would certainly be dead by now if it were not for her.
WM: Perhaps the world would be better off.
SC: Now hold on
WM: I admit she is irritating. Nosy. All around insipid.
WM: But you owe her the bare minimum of appreciation. Or at least an attempt at being a worthwhile friend.
WM: So if she has decided to cut you off.
WM: Then back off. Or else.
SC: Really? That iz what thiz iz? You pin thiz on ME?
SC: Well fine then.
SC: If I am zuch a terrible friend, them zhe can go ahead and abandon me too.
SC: It iz hardly zurprizing. Zhe’z obviouzly moved on to bigger and better thingz.
WM: I cannot pretend to know what you are on about.
SC: Oh no, mizz prezident of the Zombra fan club? It iz no zecret zhe much preferz you over me.
SC: I appreciated her. Maybe I didn’t zhow it well enough, but I did.
SC: But it’s over.
SC: You all are running off to the ztarz together. And I will be here. Alone.
SC: Inevitability haz dictated it to be zo.
SC: Zo go take your jealouz azhen bitching zomewhere elze. I have no patience for it.
WM: Wait.
SC: What?
SC: What iz one good reazon not to cloze thiz chat window?
WM: Perhaps all of us are feeling distanced from one another.
SC: And?
WM: & it does not have to be that way.
SC: We are going zeparate wayz. Fabric torn right down the zeam. Meteorz pazzing in the zky, whatever metaphor zuitz you.
WM: People are easier to fix than clothes or rocks.
WM: For one, speaking with one another seems to help.
WM: If you would like, I could talk with Sombra.
SC: …About what?
WM: I think you can guess.
SC: Well
SC: Then why?
SC: Why would you do that for me.
SC: A moment ago you threatened to kill me.
WM: Oh like you have not heard worse.
SC: …Granted.
SC: I zuppoze…no one iz very good at thiz whole “people” thing.
WM: Not in my experience, no. Not even the ones who try to pretend to.
WM: At the end of the night, all you can do is be truthful, both with them & yourself.
SC: I
SC: Thank you Amelie.
SC: I think I
SC: I juzt realized I need to go do zomething. Now.
SC: Thank you.
WM: No trouble at all.
-- striationedCyberian [SC] ceased trolling widowMaker [WM]--
-- striationedCyberian [SC] began trolling lynxSeventeen [LS]--
SC: Lynx there is something I must tell you.
LS: Oh.
LS: Oh dear.
SC: Pleaze do not mute me, I promize thiz iz not another one of my bullheaded attemptz to zay the right thing only to trip and fall on my zneezeport.
SC: I have juzt come to a realization and I think I need to zay it before I
SC: I do not know.
SC: Loze my nerve?
LS: If you are abou7 7o say wha7 I 7hink you are abou7 7o say…
LS: 1ook, now migh7 no7 be 7he bes7 7ime for 7his.
SC: Now might be the only time.
SC: Lynx Zeventeen you are deplorable. You everything I try not to be, with your znide remarkz, and your zmug face, and your ztaunch refuzal to ever get to the point.
SC: Ever since we met you have spent every second under my skin.
SC: Maybe you juzt think I am trying to convince you juzt becauze I need a tactician but
SC: It izn’t that.
LS: 1ook if 7his were any o7her 7ime i7 wou1d be fine bu7 righ7 now a7 7his very momen7 I am begging you 7o s7op.
SC: Please Lynx
SC: What I’m trying to zay iz
LS: Zarya I’m leaving Al7ernia.
SC: Iz that
SC: Wait.
SC: What?
LS: 7omorrow. I have a11 my paperwork in order, and 7his 7ime nex7 week, I’11 begin my 7raining for a 1egis1acera7ive posi7ion.
SC: You
LS: I mean7 7o 7e11 you ear1ier bu7 7hings have been so wi7h busy ge77ing ready 7o 1eave and. I needed an en7ire ear1y 1ife record for c1earance I’ve been doub1e and 7rip1e checking every7hing.
LS: 7here was so do I jus7 cou1dn’7 say i7 enough in advance 7ha7 i7 wou1dn’7 come as a shock.
LS: And 7hen i7 was 7oday and I jus7. Didn’7.
LS: Bu7 I rea11y wan7ed 7o 7e11 you 7o. 7o say goodbye.
LS: And 7his is so much harder 7han i7 has 7o be a1ready.
LS: So p1ease jus7. S7op.
LS: Jus7 1e7 me say goodbye.
LS: And have 7ha7 be i7.
LS: …
LS: Goodbye.
LS: I’m sorry.
-- lynxSeventeen [LS] ceased trolling striationedCyberian [SC]--
The spear lands on the ground with a clatter. The ringing is a herald, and it only takes long enough for the sound to disperse before you realize how monumentally bad of a decision that was. You fall down on one knee, pressing a hand against the gaping wound in your side.
Lynx looks down at you with what could only be described as pity.
You realize this is how you die. Not even the dignity of a final fight between you and your enemy turned friend turned…whatever they think of you now. Whatever made them choose to take your assignment. Whatever gravitational force kept holding you the two of you together.
“I really have made a mess of it,” you note absently.
“If anyone could have done it, it was you.” If you didn’t know any better, it would almost sound like they are trying to comfort you.
You wondering if they’ll strike you down. If they would risk getting close enough to return the favor.
“Maybe. But I did not.” You look down at the slick on your hand. Under a red and dying sun, it almost looks like melted bubblegum. “I suppose I needed you after all.”
You laugh. It’s not funny.
The wind howls louder, and there is a soft second, where both of you are breathing in tandem, where you swear you can hear it as though they were right up against you.
“I know,” they say, as clandestine as ever, “that is why I have come to join you.”
This, somehow, is the part of the dance where you slip up.
“Join?” Join you in death? Somehow, in all their melodramatics they never seemed the sort. “Gotten that tired of her have you? It didn’t take long. Did you not pick your side eight sweeps ago?”
“Yes.” Their eyebrows crinkle ever so slightly, and you are struck by the unprecedented emotion on their face. “And I have regretted it every day since.
You look at them like they’re crazy. You think they are.
There is something you don’t understand here, your mind trying to parse what is always layers and mousetraps of intricacies with this one, stuttering all over one another as you glance up in riveted shock. Yet, they reach down and offer you an arm up. Despite the hesitation, the sheer disbelief still coursing (and spilling out of) your veins, when they haul you to your feet you feel like the action is complete. Like you have finally stepped out a cycle and can begin anew.
“Lynx…” you start.
“Hush Zarya,” they say with the most dismissive of waves. “Always so much talking. Come along, it’s time we got you to a doctor.”
“I still don’t…”
They turn from you, and for a moment you swear you see shame in the downcast of their eyes. They move, practically dragging you along as the poison makes it to your veins, and for sure you think you’ve died in this moment. And, in the muddied logic of your brain as your fingers find their way through Lynx’s, you are perfectly fine with that.