"You ever think about how weird this all is, Ethan?"
Ahkelios isn't looking at . He's staring out over the city of Isthanok—specifically, over the semi-ruined city that everyone's still working to rebuild. Guard and his proxies are off working on that specific task until I'm ready to take the next step, and for now, I'm just... taking a break.
Or avoiding responsibility. Either one would be accurate, really.
"It's hard not to," I answer. "I an, I don't know about you, but I wasn't exactly the warrior type back on Earth. I'm not sure I'm the warrior type now."
Ahkelios turns his head to stare at . "You're making really worried about what Earth thinks a warrior is."
I snort. "There's usually less shirts involved."
"Well, that's easily solved."
"I'm not taking off my shirt, Ahkelios."
The mantis snickers. He shifts a little on the branch he's sitting on, tapping contemplatively on the wood beneath him. "I was a scientist before all this," he says. "I painted as a hobby. I don't even rember what that was like anymore. I an, I've got more pieces of those mories than I did before, but I still can't imagine myself sitting down and painting. And I know how much it ant to ."
I'm quiet for a mont. "Yeah," I say eventually. I can't picture myself sitting down at a computer and playing a ga, either. Or holding a job as a cashier, god forbid, though even before all this I'm not sure I could've held that particular job without eventually punching soone in the face.
Ahkelios hesitates. I can tell there's sothing on his mind—sothing he's been trying to bring himself to say for a while. It's co up a few tis here and there in these last few loops, ever since he absorbed his most recent Remnant.
"I'm not going to judge you, you know," I tell him. Because I think I know what he wants to talk about.
There's a small sigh. The mantis looks away, bringing his hands up to his eyes, and I pretend not to see the small wiping motions he makes.
"I don't think I was a good person, Ethan," Ahkelios says. His voice is small and quiet—not sothing I'm used to from him. "Even if I started that way."
"That's what these Trials do, right?" I keep my voice even when I speak, and a mont later I put my hand out in front of him. Ahkelios looks at it for a second before he climbs up onto my palm. He's big enough now that the gesture is a little awkward, but neither of us mind. "They're ant to break people in exactly that way. We've seen it with Naru, we've seen it with Whisper. Gheraa told us about it, even."
"Every Trialgoer is selected," Ahkelios agrees, though he still doesn't look at . "They're chosen so that their Trial molds them into sothing more pliable. Into soone the Integrators can use."
"You're worried about what they would've made you?"
"I'm worried about what they did make ." Ahkelios hunches over a little, bringing his arms around his knees, hugging himself. I gather him closer so I can cup him in both of my hands, and Ahkelios leans into my chest instinctively, his fingers clutching at my shirt. "I don't know if I want to absorb any more Remnants."
"You don't have to," I tell him. I watch as the sun refracts through a remnant of Isthanok, a half-shattered island of crystal still floating in the sky; broken like this, the light scatters into a rainbow of light instead of simply shining through. It's quite the sight, and Ahkelios and I both watch the play of color until a stray cloud ends the display.
It's only when it ends that Ahkelios speaks again. "Are you sure?" he asks. "It would make stronger. I'd be able to do more. Help you more."
I chuckle a bit. "That isn't even close to what I'm worried about, 'Kelios," I tell him. I run a finger over the back of his head, and he lets out a low series of clicks that seem almost like his version of a purr. "I'm worried about the hold the Interface has on you. I'm worried about whether or not you're going to stick around when all this is over. I'm worried about you, living as a person, beyond the shackles of Interface and skills and Firmant."
Ahkelios snorts in a way that's almost self-disparaging, although he can't hide his smile, either. "You worry too much."
"It's part of my charm." I grin.
"It absolutely is not," the mantis argues, but I notice that he's relaxed a little. There's less tension in his Firmant, less... conflict. When he speaks again, his voice is softer. "But thank you. For worrying."
"You are welco." I reach down to flick him gently, and he bats at my finger, grumbling at . "Did you get a specific mory that brought all this up?"
Ahkelios sighs, glancing away. "I don't..." he starts, and then he stops. "Yes. The answer is yes."
He'd been about to say I don't know, I think. He looks back out over Isthanok. "I don't think I ever cared as much as you seem to about killing. I an... it's a ti loop. At so point I figured I could just do whatever I wanted. The whole point is that there are no consequences, right?"
"That is technically definitely the point," I agree. I don't add anything more, because there's clearly a point he's getting at.
"I have so of my mories now," Ahkelios says. "But I'm still... I an, I'm mostly the past version of . The one that was first brought into the Trials. And the newer mories feel like they're from a completely different version of . I think there were tis during my Trial where I wondered what I'd think of myself if I knew what I was going to beco."
His voice becos softer. "I know the answer to that now."
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I sigh. He doesn't have to tell what the answer is. It's easy enough to see in his posture, in his eyes, in the way he looks out over the city and clenches his fists like he can destroy a mory if he stares at it hard enough.
"I think," I say, "that sotis we just have to confront the things that we've done. It might be easier to forget. I know there are things I sotis wish I could forget. But if soone actually gave the option, I don't think I'd take it."
"Why not?" Ahkelios asks. He rubs one arm with the other. "It might be better that way, right?"
I shake my head. "If I let myself forget, who's to say I'm not going to do it again?" I ask. "I already forget things all the ti. How many tis did Tarin have to tell not to be reckless? How often do we end up unprepared when we leap into sothing new? We can't plan for everything, that's impossible, but... I'd rather keep the breadth of my experiences. It tells what I can't afford to repeat."
Like Miktik's death. Even now, after a full week to process, it feels alien. It feels like it shouldn't have happened. I'd spoken to her, and there had been no indication that she'd do sothing so reckless—and I still don't know why. I don't know why she went off by herself into the Interdiary. If I understood her a little more, maybe I could've predicted what would happen.
I can't predict what everyone else does. But Guardian of Fate telling nothing... it should've been a hint on how important it was to investigate what happened to her.
"You're thinking about Miktik again," Ahkelios observes.
I chuckle, though there isn't any mirth in it. "You know too well."
"I'm not sure it's the sa thing," Ahkelios says. "You're just keeping yourself intact. If I take in all my mories, I might not be anymore. I might be the person that learned to stop caring."
"Then I suppose I've got a different question for you." I lean down a bit to poke Ahkelios in the chest. "Who would win? You, or the person you beca?"
Ahkelios blinks, his expression faltering. "I... don't know."
"If you're so worried you'll beco him," I say. "Then you just have to make sure that who you are right now is strong enough that it won't be broken by those mories. The version of you that cares has to be more than the version of you that doesn't. Do you think you can do that?"
There's a long pause. Ahkelios takes a deep breath, and then his expression hardens. "...Yes."
"You're pretty sure about that." I smile. "Figured sothing out, did you?"
"That version of has more mories," Ahkelios says with a little shrug. "But none of them... mattered. At so point it beca just about survival. About winning. About beating the Trial. He didn't enjoy killing, it just didn't matter to him."
"And it's different for you," I say.
"Yes." Ahkelios's voice is a little more firm, and he looks up at . "Because you matter to . And so does Tarin, and He-Who-Guards, and Bimar, and Miktik." He hesitates for a mont, then plows on. "You showed that Hestia matters. It's not just so torturous training ground."
He looks up again, and as if the sky can hear his words, the clouds shift out of the way; the sunlight once again strikes the crystal of that broken citadel, scattering a rainbow of light out across the city.
"It's a pretty beautiful place," he admits quietly. "It isn't my ho, but it's the ho of a lot of other people. It's just never going to be safe. Not as long as the Trial is still going. Not as long as the Interface and the Integrators have their hooks on this planet."
"Well, we've made so progress by cutting off the Integrators," I say, giving Ahkelios a small grin.
"That basically ans you're half done already," Ahkelios says, grinning right back. He raises a fist toward , and I give him a fistbump. "Thanks, Ethan. That helped. I think I'll keep absorbing those Remnants, but if it starts affecting , I'm counting on you to kick sense back into my head, alright?"
"And you do the sa for if I ever let all this power go to my head," I tell him, amused.
Ahkelios crosses his arms across his chest, his eyes narrowing in playful obstinance. "You expect to fight you?" he asks. "You just punched an asteroid across dinsions!"
"And you have a direct link to my Firmant that nothing and no one else does," I say, ruffling his nonexistent hair affectionately. Mostly, that translates to aggressive head-rubbing, and he flails obstinately at my fingers. "If anyone can stop , you can. Besides, I'll listen to you."
"Bold thing to say for soone that hasn't listened to a bunch of tis," Ahkelios grumbles.
"Those were directions," I tell him. "That doesn't count."
"Your sense of direction sucks."
"Yeah, well, you're bad at giving directions."
"You're bad at following them!"
We bicker like this for a minute or two, falling into a comfortable pattern of playful jokes and laughter. It's nice. It feels like a break from everything else that's been going on, and considering how much has been going on, it's a break that I've needed.
Eventually, though, we lapse into silence. Talking to Ahkelios about whatever's been on his mind was the last important thing on my to-do list before I begin making preparations for the next step, and now there's really no excuse to keep putting off what I've been putting off.
The Interface has a lot of ssages waiting for . I've been avoiding it, and both Ahkelios and I know I've been avoiding it. The end of the raid, whatever I triggered when I punched that asteroid back toward the Integrators, a whole slew of miscellaneous ssages that I can only imagine has sothing to do with that... whatever it was I unlocked.
That power, unrelated to Firmant but sohow lying beneath it all. The authority I tapped into that allowed to command reality to change with nothing more than an exertion of will.
Whatever that power is, the Interface has been panicking about it. The ssages flicker in the corner of my vision non-stop, suppressed only by my will. And I've been avoiding it because I know everything else the Interface is going to tell .
I caught a glimpse of it before I closed the window and refused to look at it further. It's why I've been avoiding the Interface all this ti.
The raid report contains a figure I've been wanting to avoid. Number of casualties. My fists tighten just thinking about it. To think that all of this only happened because the Integrators thought that this was a just and appropriate punishnt for Gheraa's act of rebellion...
"You can't avoid it forever, Ethan," Ahkelios says. He reaches down to take my thumb in one of his hands in a gesture that's slightly awkward and mostly reassuring.
"I know," I mutter, sighing. "Let's get this over with."
And after this? I'm going to bring Gheraa back. I'm going to figure out how, and then with his help I'm going to dismantle every last thing the Integrators have done.
No more Trials. No more Interface, controlling and spinning the fate of entire planets. No more Trialgoers running their own private dictatorships in the na of the Integrators.
I release my hold on the Interface.
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