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elaemae · 8 months

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The premium version of human is here to wreck house, mfs.

Chp.2

[TwstxObeyme!AFAB!reader]

Whoa.. 😳

Thanks for the feedback, likes and reblogs guys~ It really makes me happy that my hard work is appreciated😊

Guys, what gender should my story's Yuu be in? It's quite hard to refer to two different characters with both gender neutral pronouns 😅

READ FIRST; PROLOGUE:1

• • • •

Again; Pronouns used to refer to MC are blue, because MC will be mistaken for a guy a lot.

SYNOPSIS:

With the Opening Ceremony going off the rails for a second time, MC is more than eager to get back home and probably binge-watch their stress away with their emotionally-repressed boys.

Though with the current situation right now, they don't think that will be happening soon.. Oh well, at least they're not the only otherworldly outlier here... *Nightbringer flashbacks intensifies*

$o|0m°N?

On the other hand, Yuu makes a new friend.

Yuu doesn't know if this makes them a problematic person or not, but Yuu is happy that there's someone else in a similar predicament as them in this strange world, even if it meant that their new companion also had to be kidnapped by a problematic school/lowkey-highkey a cult to be here as well.

But of course, there's trouble in the horizon as the whole fiasco in the mirror ceremony caused the students of NRC to keep a close and careful gaze onto the MC. I'm talkin' from but not limited to; The Fish Mafia, Queen of hearts and Evil queen Incarnates, even down to your perfectly normal 500+ year old war-veteran that looks like a child.

Meanwhile, The Devildom, Human world, and The Celestial realm are feeling a sense of something foreboding in the air... It's probably nothing though.. right?......right?? The calm before the storm. Or the calm before anyone barges into MC's room.

Prologue: 2 Electric-boogaloo

Watching the mysterious and somewhat confused-looking student continuously dodge Riddle and Azul's spells with a calm expression, sharp gaze and a frightening precision, Lilia is waiting for the perfect time to jump in.

Preferably when the student ran in front of him so that he could tackle him to the ground.

Crowley isn't doing anything but screech. Again.

Haah....

• • • •

Azul's smile widens when this ever mysterious new student blocks Riddles' Signature spell by quickly spinning his fancy staff into a make-shift shield once again. what an interesting staff, transforming from a necklace into a cane that can be used for offense and defense..

Azul straight up grins he can see Schoenheit's smile and Kingscholar's shit-eating smirk from here, as well as hear Shroud's maniacal giggles when Riddle screeches at the student to just cooperate and that "NO WE ARE NOT A CULT!!!!" "That's what cults always say!"

Prompting a round of laughter from the useles– *ehem* new students in the hall. How annoying..

What an amusing lad.. Though, Azul wonders.. can all his other jewelry transform as well? Besides the earrings, choker, necklace and forehead ornament that he's wearing, the student also has a ring in his middle finger and in both of his ring fingers, a wide bracelet, and even some bangles in his ankles.

And if all of those jewels can transform into something?....Ohhh, then he really needs to get his hands on them asap.

Seeing Lilia gearing up to jump the student, Azul shifted a bit and tried to lead the student closer to Lilia.

Help idk how to describe shit💀

You click your tongue as you got surrounded by Mr. bird-bitch, that red-mf, Solomon-but-from-wish, Columbina's cousin, lion-dude, "I'm a bad-bitch with a sad past" guy, and a floating tablet.

You ended up getting bound by the bird-bitch's whip the moment you tried to leap off a window in your belphie-escaping-his-responsibilities style. Your pact mark of pride flickered, and Lucifer wonders what MC could be dreaming about for their pride to have taken a hit at this time of the night.

You turned your staff back into a necklace by then, so you couldn't really block the whip and that redhead's spell from hitting you.

You had socked Walmart-Solomon in the face though when he sneakily tried to take one of your bangles while you were being yanked back from the window. Satan stirred in his sleep, feeling but not registering the creeping irritation under your skin.

So now you're here, with a collar for your troubles and a whip locking your arms to your body.

You're just about to resentfully summon Lucifer or something when the redhead who collared you with this uncomfortable fugly-ass neckwear started lecturing you and shit about etiquette and how disrespectful you are for trying to leap out the window and how you should be honored to be there blahblahblah—

Hell no. You ain't letting this short-pimp talk to you like this. (You should really stop hanging around too much with Asmo. Or Levi when he's being a hater on the internet.)

Satan stirred once again, starting to rouse from his slumber as he felt your irritation start to turn into embers of anger.

Lucifer furrows his brows, feeling a rush of indignity that can only have come from you. But why? Weren't you in bed? He hasn't felt you leave through any of the detection barriers he'd set up around your room so you should still be inside, right?

"I think it's much more disrespectful to have your fuckin horses kidnap someone straight from their goddamn bed just to attend a little ceremony they've never even heard of."

You narrow your eyes as you see the bird-man and goons look taken aback in varying degrees of obviousness. (A figure near the mirror perked-up; 'Maybe this person is in a similar situation as them!')

Bruh, what the fuck did they expect??

• • • • •

The Vice-prefects of all seven dorms have led the new students out of the Ceremony hall, leaving behind the five (sorry Mal. Also, Jamil's ass definitely dragged Kalim out with him.) dorm leaders with the headmaster to solve the issues of the sTiLl-uNdEr-tHe-efFecTs-oF-tHe-teLepoRtaTioN-sPelL new student who utterly refuses to cooperate with them.

Riddle is about to combust, Leona wants to go back to bed only to be dragged back by the headmaster—, Vil wants his beauty sleep but was dragged back by that petty bitch, Leona—, While Idia and Azul decided to stick around for their own personal reasons. ("He looks like an anime character—" "Brother, I don't think it's good to be taking pictures of someone without permission—" "AHH–! O-ORTHO?!")

While Yuu is.. hiding behind the mirror.

(The kinda-silver haired guy seems to be in his seventh ritual of making sure his face didn't get bruised from the solid right hook to the face he got.)

(Yuu would've felt bad for him if the guy didn't have such a shady smile on his face while he was massaging his punched jaw.)

Meanwhile...

"Oy human, it's me!"

Mammon knocked on MC's door, fully intent on bothering their sleep and cozying up on their bed again.

He waited for a few seconds, no answer.

He knocked again.

No answer.

... Look, it's not like The Great Mammon is worried or anything but this is strange..

The human always answers their door after a knock or two even if it's the middle of the night.

... Dammit.

Mammon is full of grumbles as he consciously sharpens his senses, tryna sense his the human.

They better not be ignoring him or he'll–

Wait.

What? W- wait a second..

• • • •

The quietness of the night in the House of Lamentation vanished as the sound of a door being busted down rang out.

It's other residents could barely even register the sound before a shout rang out. A shout that sent dread right into their cores.

"MC?!"

← Pr. 1 | Chapter List | Prologue 3 →

'What the?! Why can't I summon them??'

Elae: Hehe~ I'm back with some food~

Thanks for reading this far, I hope you enjoyed this chapter😊

Btw, do y'all want Yuu to be a love interest?

How do I tag ppl??

290 notes · View notes

ashknife · 11 months

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Blossom

This is for the @inklings-challenge. I didn't have the benefit of running this through my writing group for critique and editing, so it is exceptionally rough. It's done, but it needs work. Something to do when I graduate in May. :) If you have suggestions or criticism to make, I would greatly appreciate it.

>/-u:bl0$$0m >/-p:*************** User authenticated. Welcome, bl0$$0m. TaurOS 7.2.9 rev.2 update available. See UPDATE -README for details. bl0$$0m>/-jack a2.82.71.89.82.fe -in/quiet Initializing peripherals. VineTech Helm Visor XG51 detected. VineTech Glide Gloves XG51 detected. VineTech Chest Mount Expansion XG51 detected. Please wait...... 9.8 PB allocated. Entering TaurNet...... Welcome, user bl0$$0m.

Visuals initializing.

A small room appears in her sight. It is covered in vines and foliage. A square fountain in the middle, covered in lily pads, provides water to this lush little garden.

Audio initializing.

The sound of trickling water gently pelts her ears. A breeze whooshes above, rustling the plants and calling attention to the windchimes above.

Sensories initializing.

She feels the cool breath of the wind caress her skin. The sun filtering in from above counters with its warmth. The dichotomy is pleasing. The scent of the plants fills her nostrils. She almost sneezes; she is thankful she doesn’t. The mess would have been a pain to clean up.

Controls initialized. Happy exploring.

She moves her body around the garden. Walking around is almost like walking around the dark room she is really seated in. It’s close enough to be disconcerting. No matter how many times she’s done this, she has to take a few minutes to reorient herself to the virtual environment. She performs a few stretches and exercises while she’s at it. There will be a lot of activity today.

“Hey, get your bearings yet?” Spencer’s disembodied voice crackled slightly.

“Almost. You’re breaking up a little,” Blossom replied.

“Can’t help it. There’s a massive storm outside. Let me know when you’re ready. Red is on standby,” Spencer said.

“Yo,” Redjack said. “I see you’re in one of the VineTech gardens.”

“It came with the gear,” she said.

“Did you get the XG51 set? Nice!” Spencer said.

“That’s right, boys. Only quality goods for this girl,” she said.

“That pocket garden is nice. If we weren’t already linked, I’d never know it was there. Is it true? Can you link that room anywhere?” Redjack said. Blossom smiled a little. Even she enjoyed the new car smell.

“I tried putting it just outside the library subbasement. I guess we’ll see, won’t we?” Blossom said.

“Which door?”

“A-51.”

“Ok, I’m watching. On your mark, Blossom.”

“Security is light down there, but be on your guard,” Spencer said.

“Got it,” she replied. “3…2…1…”

She opened the door out into a large, dusty lobby. Dust kicked up from the floor in a visible wave emanating from the opening portal.

“Oh, wow. I think you’re the first to disturb the air here in a long time,” Redjack commented.

“You said light security, Spence. Do you think it’s still around?” Blossom asked.

“Sensors don’t need to physically patrol an area to scan it. Some gremlins can remain inert for decades before being activated,” Spencer replied.

“Don’t let my guard down,” she said.

“Exactly. People have died from less,” Spencer said.

Blossom carefully stepped into the lobby. To her left was a large set of stairs leading up to the ground floor. A couple of dim rays from the cyberworld above pierced through, illuminating parts of a utilitarian directory in front of a big desk. Circulation, Preservation, and Housekeeping were to the right.

“This desk looks like a reception area for the basement offices,” Blossom said. “I can see some of the directory. Preservation is to my right. Is that where the archives are?”

“Not necessarily, but it’s a good place to start,” Spencer said.

“Not to alarm, but going off of Spence’s point earlier, there are a couple of inert gremlins under the desk. I’m prepping some weapon data just in case. What would you like?” Redjack said.

“The usual,” she said.

“On it,” he replied.

“Any sentries close by?” Spencer said.

“Three blocks down,” Redjack said.

“I’ll look. You’re clear to walk to that point,” Spencer said.

“Got it,” Blossom said. She advanced down the dark hallway with short, purposeful steps. She looked side-to-side with as much caution. Though the hallways were mostly bare, that did not mean they were empty. More than once, she was ambushed by cleverly camouflaged data gremlins, dangerous anomalies residing in the depths of cyberspace. They are pockets of corrupted data left down here for months, decades, or even centuries. Having been overlooked for so long and thus no programs to handle garbage collection, the corruptions evolved into some sort of animalistic state with a monstrous appearance. The depths of cyberspace are home to dangers such as this. It takes professional hackers like Blossom and her crew to brave and survive those depths to retrieve lost data. Hacker is one of the most respected professions on Taurus Rho.

Blossom crept to the end of the hall, where a pair of steel doors painted the same cream as the walls blocked her path. If Spencer was right, the sentries would be on the other side of the doors, so she relaxed a bit and took in her surroundings. She had seen the upper floors of this library before with rows of heavy wooden shelves with numerous imaginative posters begging patrons to read, read, read. There was colorful carpet to complement the colorful walls and numerous streamers hanging from the ceiling. It felt open, lively, and inviting. It was hard to believe that these lower levels were part of the same building. The offices, technical processing, and archives lived down here, so the design was far more utilitarian. Perhaps if she had a chance, she would peek into an office. Surely the librarians who worked here had lively desks.

“Hard to believe that this was a lively place twenty years ago, huh?” Redjack said.

“The first digital library,” she said.

“It had a good run, but now there are five bigger ones above and plans for even more. It didn’t take long for people to forget it,” he said.

“Red, how deep do you think cyberspace is?”

“Well, Nighthawk claimed to have been ten kilometers below, and that was when this library was in its final days. That makes that now, what, twelve?”

“How deep was that depot? The deepest we made?”

“Five.”

“I remember the cliffside there. I could see down a long ways.”

“I imagine it could be twenty, thirty, or more deep. Humanity has been on Taurus Rho for several centuries, and technology keeps expanding.”

“We can make it deeper, I bet. Deeper than even the great Nighthawk.”

“Yeah. One step at a time, anyway. What’s the word, Spencer? You’ve been quiet for a while.”

“Yeah, sorry, I’m confused. These scanners are VineTech,” Spencer said.

“VineTech? But, they’re a startup. They haven’t been around for even five years,” Blossom said.

“Weapon inbound,” Redjack interrupted.

A somewhat ornate spear materialized in front of Blossom, who took it, twirled around, and struck at a pair of gremlins in one fluid motion. The spearhead connected to the skull of the vaguely humanoid anomaly. It hissed and quivered violently before collapsing to the ground. Its buddy lunged at Blossom. She sidestepped the attack and jabbed the spear into its side, where it collapsed in a strange pile.

“Executing garbage collection,” Spencer said.

A dim light briefly engulfed the gremlin corpses. The corrupted data dispersed, leaving behind a couple of scraps of paper. Blossom picked them up and looked at them.

“This scrap is part of an old newspaper,” she said, crumpling it and tossing it behind her. “But this one, it appears to be an encrypted note. I’m uploading it to you, Spence.”

The other scrap disappeared from her hand in a small shower of white sparkles.

“Got it. So, those sentries are recent products from VineTech. Stealth Series 1 Beta. They’re supposed to be hard to detect.”

“Someone doesn’t want us down here,” Blossom said.

“It’s a good bet that someone knows we’re here. Should we abort?” Spencer said.

“Can you move that room?” Redjack asked.

“Yes, I can,” Blossom said. “Tried it the other day around my space.”

“The client gave us a detailed description of the record they want from the archives. If she hurried, she can get to it and then hop through a side door back into her safe space,” Redjack said.

“That’s risky,” Spencer said.

“I get the feeling there won’t be another chance,” Blossom said.

“If someone laid that trap for us, then there’s little use for stealth. I’ll scan the area for the target. You should see it on your HUD soon, Blossom,” Spencer said.

“Activating systems. Let’s make some noise,” Redjacked yelled.

The dark hallways lit up almost brighter than day. Blossom grunted as she brought her arm over her eyes. As her eyes adjusted, she saw a red targeting reticle appear down behind the doors.

“Archives are next to preservation, as you guessed. Run!” Spencer said.

Menus darted across Blossom’s vision as she selected a slew of commands to augment her abilities. Her destination was only a couple hundred meters down; she would be fine expending a large amount of data to get there quickly, especially if she had to run for her life. As if to confirm that, the sounds of machinery and crashing echoed from above the lobby stairs.

Blossom cursed as her spear glowed an eerie green color. With a practiced slash, she cut down the doors in front of her. She jumped past them and sprinted down the hall. Within seconds, she reached a set of doors leading into Preservation. She kicked the doors in to see a large room with shelves of boxes, chemicals, and plastic sleeving. Down the hall where she came from, she could see an Enforcer, a humanoid-shaped program designed by the military to help police the public areas of cyberspace.

“Blossom…” Spencer started.

“I know!” Weaving her spear around, she burst through Preservation, cutting through the tables and shelves before slicing down another set of doors. This led to a small warehouse with mostly empty shelves. There were several gremlins, all of whom were agitated by the sudden change in environment. In the middle of that was the target record. Hearing the crashing behind her, Blossom leaped forward, over the gremlins and shelves, and landed two aisles away from the record. The Enforcer exploded through what was left of those doors and charged forward, but the gremlins found it more interesting than Blossom.

“Precious seconds bought. There’s a door down the aisle where the record is found. Grab it and go!” Spencer said.

More menu options floated in front of Blossom as she ran to the correct aisle and rushed to the record. It appeared to be an old journal of some kind. She pocketed it and ran for the door. Light flickered behind it, and it opened to her private garden. The sound of struggle between the Enforcer and the gremlins quieted down. She was out of time. With a final burst of speed, she leaped for the door and slammed it behind her. The door bulged with a fist-like shape. Furiously, she entered commands. Soon, the bulge returned to normal as her garden transported her to somewhere safe. She pulled the journal out.

“The memoirs of Jackson A. Miller is ours,” she said.

Both men exhaled.

“Good job, Blossom,” Redjack said.

“Another narrow escape, thanks to your upgrades,” Spencer said. “Guess I should do the same, yeah? I’ll meet you at the normal place.”

“Sure thing.”

A pair of wired, sleek gloves pulled a similarly styled helmet off. The young woman gasped for fresh air and then sat there while her pulse and breathing slowly returned to normal. Every close call unnerved her. If the Enforcer had gotten a hold of her like it did those gremlins…well, this room would have been quite the mess for someone to clean up.

She stood up, slid the chest mount off, and hung the pieces of the XG51 into their sanitation station. She ambled to the bathroom and looked at the mirror. Her undershirt was drenched with sweat, and her black hair was also drenched and matted. She ran her fingers down her dried face and stared at her brown eyes for a few moments. She sniffed and wrinkled her nose.

“This is going to be the death of you, Laura,” she told her reflection.

A shower and some fresh clothes later, Laura stepped out of her apartment into the city streets. As much as she didn’t care for the inner parts of Prime City, she was glad for the opportunity to get out and distance herself from the virtual reality suit. The storm Spencer complained about had just passed over this part of the city, so there was a little freshness in the air. Her dark grey beanie, scarf, coat, slacks, and boots blended with the overcast sky, the city buildings, and many of her fellow pedestrians. She trotted to keep pace with the crowd, warily watching while keeping her face down. A pair of earbuds quietly played music from children’s show Duck the Rabbit; they were also a type of hearing aid. They saved her more than a few times from nosy reporters and angry strangers.

A quarter-hour stroll through the city streets brought her to a little cafe, La Fleur Petit. An eccentric old lady crazy about fungus ran the place, which was enough to scare off most people who weren’t regulars. It was a cozy spot that served a delicious cup of coffee and a large, warm waffle. Laura could smell the waffles the entire walk down. She opened the door and stepped in.

A wrinkled raisin of a woman sat at the register hunched over in a somewhat comatose pose. It wasn’t clear if she was contemplating the mysteries of the universe or was asleep. An eye peeked to see who it was, and then she burst into life.

“Oh, you can’t hide from me, sweetie! I know which blossom those eyes belong to,” she said.

“Good evening, Madame Sophie,” Laura said. Sophie grabbed Laura’s cool hand and stared seriously into her eyes.

“Still so formal after all these years. One day, young lady. One day, you will call me Grandma or Toots or something.” She cackled. Laura couldn’t help but smile as the old lady dragged her to her normal table. There was a guest waiting for her, as expected.

“Waffle and coffee?” Sophie asked.

“Yes, please.”

“I’ll return shortly.”

Laura sat at the table and faced her guest, who was dressed similarly. They sat in silence until Sophie returned with fresh coffee in mushroom-shaped mugs. She sat a mug in front of Laura and another in front of the guest.

“Your orders will be ready in a few. Relax and enjoy!” She bowed and walked back to the counter, singing an old tune using mushroom names as lyrics. Laura’s guest lifted his mug.

“The fields are white unto harvest,” he said.

“But the laborers are few,” she said, lifting her mug. They loosened their scarves and savored a sip.

“Sophie makes good coffee. I wonder where she sources it,” the man said.

“See? Like that, dearie!” Sophie called from the counter. Laura laughed.

“I don’t know, but she’s earned a few secrets,” she said.

“Do you have the journal?” he said.

“Here.” Laura produced a small drive and handed it over. He looked it over and placed it in a pouch.

“That was a close call. Did that punch get in your garden?”

“About two feet, I think. It…I…do you know something, Spence? I think we were targeted.” Spencer nodded.

“Here’s a copy of that note.” He pulled out a folded scrap of paper. “Decrypted,” he added.

Laura took and unfolded it.

Flowers wither. -M

She looked up.

“I don’t know who we angered, but somehow we did,” Spencer said.

“Any ideas? Past clients? Jobs?” she asked.

“I think it might actually have been this job. Jackson A. Miller was an old general, someone the deposed General Blackheart looked up to. Our client was really good at hiding his information, but I still managed to dig up some info. A librarian who was personal friends with the same Mason Blackheart, Apollo DeGreen. Seems he might be doing a favor for his old buddy.”

“General Blackheart was deposed seven years ago and disappeared soon after. Wouldn’t this be someone acting on an old grudge?”

“Maybe, but then they seemed to know who you are. That they sent an Enforcer after you meant they were someone high up. Very few people get to command those. I just don’t know who M is.”

He stared intently at her. She stared back. Sophie arrived with plates of waffles and sausage.

“Oh, Sophie, I could eat this every day,” Spencer said.

“How nice of you to say, but you already get my best discount,” Sophie replied as she placed the food down for her guests. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

Laura stared for a bit longer, and then she looked at the scrap again. Something caught her eye. There was a tiny bit of writing underneath the note.

“Hey, there’s an address here,” she said, handing the note back.

“You’re right,” he said, his eyes narrowing. “You know something.”

“Yeah, but I can’t crack. Not yet. Trust me a little longer,” she said, taking in a bite of waffle. If only she could hold that warm, fluffy moment forever.

“You were almost killed,” he said, holding his first bite in.

“I…yeah. That unnerved me, but I have to face the danger. We need to go to that address.”

“This is clearly a trap.”

“I know.”

“But you want to go?”

“I have to. It’s…important.”

“The ever-nebulous quest of yours?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t think I could take it if you were silenced.”

“You say that every time.”

“And I mean it every time. You’re a person, too. Red and I care about you. We’re a great team. We could keep this going for years to come.”

“Spence…”

“I know better than to try to talk you out of this, but if this goes south, we’re gonna have to lay low for a while.” Laura sighed.

“Thank you, Spence. Just trust me a little longer, and then you’ll learn all you want.”

“You’re a hard nut to crack, Blossom.”

“I have to be. Look, she made these look like shiitake.”

They ate and chatted for a while longer before leaving.

The door to Laura’s apartment opened quietly. She stepped in and closed the door just as carefully. She stepped into the kitchen and stripped the gear off of her head, placing them on the table. She inhaled sharply and brought her fist down on the table, jolting everything on it. She screamed in frustration.

She knew who M was. M was the Matriarch, the name her aunt used in cyberspace. Her real name was Anastasia Plumer. She was the governing regent of Sector Prime, one of the most populous sectors on the planet. She obtained the position by exposing the corruption of the previous regent and that of his advisors. Evidence of that corruption extended to her father, General Mason Blackheart. The general embezzled funds for his family and used his position to cover for a number of Laura’s missteps, including a failed attempt to sexually assault her own cousin, Lance Plumer. In an act of goodwill, Anastasia pardoned their crimes when General Blackheart stepped down in the face of his charges.

Charges that Laura knew were completely fabricated. Anastasia and Lance had powerful and skilled friends. All it took was a little sample of Laura’s DNA that she unwittingly provided. From that, they could recreate nearly every detail about her, including her voice and mannerisms. It was groundbreaking technology, the kind that Taurus Rho was known for. The people behind this brought that technology to market under the name VineTech.

Anastasia was calling Laura out, and Laura had no choice but to follow along. It was the only way she could get close enough to find something, anything, to exonerate herself and her father. She was right: this might really be the death of her.

“Let me get this straight: we’re infiltrating an address left behind by someone who tried to kill you?” Redjack asked.

“Yes,” Spencer and Blossom answered.

“You know, I need to find my way to Prime City so I can smack you both upside the head,” Redjack said.

“It’s been a while since the last time,” Blossom said.

“It has, and if this mission goes to pot, it won’t be happening ever again,” Redjack said.

“Don’t be all glum, Red. If this mission goes well, Blossom said she would spill the beans,” Spencer said.

“Wait, really? Like, we can finally know your name and all that?” Redjack said.

“Yeah. I have a feeling we’ll find something big here,” Blossom said.

“If you make it. I mean, given what we know, they could be going after me and Spence when this is over.”

“If this is our end, then let it be something noteworthy. I mean, we are trying to be greater than Nighthawk, right?” Spencer said.

“Now or never,” Blossom said.

“Right,” Redjack said. “I see you attached your garden to that address. I can have a weapon placed right outside for you. You’ll need it: the place is crawling with gremlins.”

“The place looks like an abandoned vacation home that sunk into the depths. Records of who it once belonged to seem to have been corrupted. Maybe one of those gremlins has them,” Spencer said.

“I can block some doors and funnel the gremlins down a corridor. That should help you dispatch them,” Redjack said.

“Alright. Reserve some data for a hasty retreat,” Blossom said. “I’d rather this not be the end if I can help it.”

“Already on it,” Redjack said.

“Okay, on my mark,” Blossom said. “3…2…1…”

Blossom burst through the door, grabbing the spear dropped next to it. One thrust, two, and then three inflicted fatal wounds on as many gremlins.

“Starting garbage collection,” Spencer said.

“Funneling enemies. They should be coming out of the door to the left,” Redjack said.

“How many?” Blossom asked.

“About thirty.”

Blossom sighed, inhaled deeply, and slammed the butt of the spear on the ground.

“Bring it!” she said, readying the spear for the first to come out.

Come out they did. As the door burst open, two gremlins popped out. Meanwhile, the doorway appeared to shrink down to a third of its size, forcing further gremlins to have to squeeze through.

“That should hold for a while. Take them out,” Redjack said.

Blossom stabbed the two in front of her, and then she charged at the doorway, running through another. She stood in front of it, stabbing at each one trying to get through to her. With Spencer clearing the corrupted data, there was plenty of room for the remaining gremlins to make their way to Blossom. By the time the last fell, she yawned with boredom.

“I expected more,” she said.

“Don’t let your guard down, lady,” Spencer said. He grunted. “Nothing useful. They were all made of bits and bobs. I think they were all made recently.”

“What are we looking for, anyway?” Redjack asked.

“I don’t know, exactly. Evidence of some kind,” Blossom said.

“You’re risking your life for something vague?”

“This time, yes. I don’t know what I’m looking for, but I’ll know what it is when I find it.”

“Okaaay…” Redjack said. “Well, you are in the den of a mansion. Your garden is attached to a door that goes outside. The door to the left of that, where you just killed gremlins, leads further into the mansion. On the opposite side, you should see some double doors that lead out into a courtyard. There is a bridge that goes over a pond to an island that houses a small tower. I don’t know about you, but I think I would have fun at this place. You, aside from the monster infestation.”

Blossom gasped. She knew this place.

“The tower. It’s got to be in the tower.”

“How do you know?” Spencer said.

“I just…I just do. Are there any enemies out there?”

“None that I see,” Redjack said. There just seem to be a couple of spotlights. How odd.”

“Huh…yeah, they’re just spotlights. Nothing out of the ordinary there,” Spencer said.

The ground shook. A guttural scream echoed through the mansion.

“That…oh, that one is huge. And he’s above you,” Redjack said.

“I don’t like this, Blossom. You’re being pushed there. You know there is trap of some kind somewhere,” Spencer said.

“I’ll deal,” she said, approaching the courtyard doors. They were large enough to allow a small vehicle in. A plank of wood resting on metal braces barred the door from opening. Blossom lifted the plank and set it aside. She then twisted the second brace from the right, revealing a small hole inside the door. She retrieved a key, which she inserted into the keyhole. There was a loud click, and then the doors swung open.

“Huh…” Spencer said.

“I couldn’t see that. Where exactly are we?” Redjack said.

“It’s–” Blossom started. Another heavy scream cut her off.

“Tell us later. Go!” Redjack said.

Blossom ran out into the courtyard. It was a simple grassy yard with a large pond in the middle. In the middle of the pond stood a small tower rising about three stories. A rough path of large stones connected the door to a wooden bridge that crossed the pond. The stone path continued on the island to the tower.

Blossom made it halfway to the bridge when a large, dark mass poured itself out of the courtyard door like a thick oil. Once out, it wriggled violently until it could form a pair of arms, a pair of eyes, and a pair of eyes. The gremlin was easily the size of an elephant, and its core was darker than any night sky Blossom had ever seen.

Blossom bolted to the bridge just as the gremlin chased after her. The ground under the gremlin suddenly gave way as if it was as viscous as the creature.

“Thanks, Red,” Blossom said as she stepped on the bridge. Just a few more steps, and she would be on the island, and then the tower, and then whatever was held in it.

Then the spotlights lit up.

Blossom cried out as she did her best to shield her eyes from their glare.

“Don’t tell me…” Spencer said.

“Oh. Oh, no!” Redjack said. “There’s no way!”

Blossom was not the only one who cried out. The gremlin screeched in pain. It scrambled like a panicked bug back to the mansion.

“We’re too high up to see any of these,” Spencer said. “How is this possible?”

There were four spotlights, each attached to the fence around the courtyard. Their intense light focused on Blossom. Wherever she blindly stumbled, they followed her. The large beams grew brighter and more focused. A thin beam of the whitest light shot from each spotlight and hit Blossom’s head. She seized up, held up only by her twitching muscles and the lights which bore into her.

“I’m going in,” Spencer said.

“Are you nuts?! We’ve never dealt with the Lights of Truth!” Redjack said.

“If I know my lore, they’ll only be focused on her. If I don’t, well, it was worth a shot. We can’t jack her out until she’s free of them, which means one of us has to pull her out.”

Redjack cursed.

“I knew you’d understand,” Spencer said.

The lights intensified, drilling into Blossom’s mind. Her body contorted in awful angles, and her cries sounded inhuman. Streams of silver poured out of her head. There were hundreds of them, and they threatened to corrupt the space around them and form gremlins. However, in the light, they instead stabilized and turned into windows showing pictures, objects, scenes, and even ideas and feelings.

“There’s a ton of data coming through. You’ll have to jack in on my mark,” Redjack said.

“Got it,” Spencer replied. “What’s going on?”

“It’s…her. Everything about her. Everything.”

“What? That’s it?”

“I don’t think you understand, Spence. You should see this.”

“Okay.”

“Opportunity’s coming. 3…2…1…”

A shower of light by the courtyard door heralded Spencer’s entrance. The lights around him were nearly too much to take in, but they were not nearly as intense as they were on the bridge. Silver streams continued to wrest themselves out of Blossom’s mind, turning in to data streams. Scenes of school, trips, military parades, family, especially…

“General Mason Blackheart?” Spencer said. The deposed general factored into several memories.

“Blossom is…Laura Blackheart? Have we been working with the general’s daughter this whole time?” Redjack said.

“This was the regent’s vacation home! Red, where is all this data going?”

Redjack gasped and cursed. “It’s going somewhere in downtown Prime. I can’t contain any of this! Get her out!”

Spencer approached the bridge. The heat of the lights was unbearable, but that was nothing compared to Laura’s writhing body. It contorted just the right way for him to reach his arms in and hook them around her shoulders. He pulled her as close as her body and the attached lights would allow.

“Got a boost for me?” Spencer said.

“I’ll try, buddy,” Redjack said. “Here goes…”

Spencer yanked. Redjack’s boost was more than he expected, for he flew back into the mansion with Laura in tow. It was enough to disconnect her from the lights, which immediately powered down. She quivered in exhaustion and gasped for breath.

“Throw her in the garden. I'll jack her out,” Redjack said.

Spencer dragged Laura to the door hosting her private garden. He was unable to enter it, so he gathered her into his arms like he was carrying a large sack.

“I’m sorry, but I hope this will be less painful than what you just went through,” he said.

He swung her twice before letting go a third time. She flew a few feet into the garden, landing hard on the ivy-covered ground. Spencer winced.

“I’m so sorry, Blossom,” he said, closing the door.

Laura screamed as she yanked the XG51 off. She clawed at her head, which felt like it had been drilled into hundreds of times. She stumbled out of her chair, choking out sobs, clutching her chest, and using the wall to hold herself up. Eventually, she made it to the bathroom, where she allowed herself to trip down to the toilet. She vomited into it. When nothing more could come out, she collapsed on the floor. She tried to wrap the rug around her. She pulled the towels off the drying rack to wrap around her, and then she tried to reach for the clean ones shelved above the rack. Eventually, she stopped reaching and cried herself to sleep.

“Welcome! Oh! Oh…” Sophie hurried around the counter and grabbed Laura’s hands. It had been two days since her mind was invaded. She existed on the bathroom floor for most of that, but something within willed her to get up, clean up, and take the stroll to La Fleur Petit. She wore two layers of clothing under her coat and wrapped her scarf extra tight. The wet, red rings around her eyes made her look threatening. She tried to say something to Sophie.

“Shh, hush now. Come, your friends are waiting. I will make something special for you.”

Waiting? She didn’t tell anyone she would be there. Yet, there were two men dressed like her. Of course. Who else could it have been? They were already enjoying their coffee in mushroom-shaped mugs. A fresh mug was waiting for her. Sophie helped her sit, and she was off into the kitchen.

“The fields are ripe to harvest,” Spencer said.

“But…the laborers…” Laura answered, choking up. She breathed in slowly and collected herself.

“Are few,” she finished. She loosened her scarf a little, trying to have just enough room to drink her coffee and nothing more. The two men removed their scarves completely, loosened their coats, took off their caps, and relaxed. Spencer leaned forward.

“So, we, uh, saw everything,” he said. Laura nodded cautiously.

“To be honest, I thought all this effort to be secretive and hidden was a novel schtick, You know, an edgy kind of roleplay that was sort of our trademark thing. I mean, why do we need to hide? We’re hackers. We do the dangerous work of finding things in the deep so that nobody else has to, right? But, now I understand. I know why we needed to be secretive. Why you were always so hidden. You had to be,” Spencer said.

“The regent was after you,” Redjack continued. “She tried to mine, well, you. She learned about Spence and I.”

‘I put you danger. We have to lay low. I shouldn’t have…” Laura said.

“Yeah, we’re in danger. Or would have been,” Redjack said. He pushed a folded piece of paper to her. Laura took and unfolded it. She looked up. On the note was an image of a hawk’s head.

“Apparently Nighthawk is still in business, and he took enough shine to us to divert most of the data heading to the lady regent,” Spencer said.

Tears fell as a great weight lifted from Laura’s shoulders.

“I…I’m so grateful!” she blurted. Spencer stood up.

“For better or for worse, the time for secrets is behind us. My name is James Smith. My grandfather, Spencer O’Toole, was a hacker and someone I admired greatly.” He held out his hand. Redjack stood and offered his hand, as well.

“I, well, there’s nothing meaningful to Redjack. My name is Jack Redman. I just thought it sounded cool. Computers are sort of my dig, you know?”

Laura stood and took her scarf off.

“Laura Blackheart. I’m pleased to meet you both.” She shook each of their hands, and they sat back down.

“Oh, finally! You’re practically family now!” Sophie snuck up to the table with three steaming bowls, placing them before each person.

“Sophie, we didn’t order any soup,” Spencer said.

“Don’t worry! Today’s meal is on the house. The soup is my special recipe: a broth made from several different mushrooms! It’s the perfect remedy for cold, troubling days. I’ll be back later with your meals.” Sophie scooted off.

“That was generous of her,” Redjack said, lifting the bowl to his face. Spencer and Laura did the same.

“Cheers,” they said, and drank. The soup filled Laura with an otherworldly warmth, a feeling of calm in the midst of a raging storm. The earthy, peppery mushrooms felt oddly of home. There was joy, and longing, and peace.

Laura opened her eyes, suddenly aware she had almost drifted asleep. Spencer and Redjack, by the look on their faces, had similar reactions.

“What a masterpiece,” Spencer finally said. Silently, they sipped their soups until their bowls were empty. As if on cue, Sophie returned to collect their bowls and place out their entrees: a massive feast of eggs, bacon, and sausage piled on top of her mushroom-shaped waffles.

“I don’t know what you’ve suffered, but I’ll be dead before I let anyone walk over my children like that. Next time it happens, you point ol’ Sophie at ‘em. I’ll tan their hides so hard, they’ll wish I actually knocked them into next month.” Sophie walked back to the kitchen muttering other unsavory things she wanted to do. The three sat there for a moment, and then they erupted in laughter before digging in.

“We need to go back,” Laura said.

“I know you just got drilled in the head, but seriously?” Spencer said.

“Yes. Seriously. Aunt Anastasia baited a trap, but I never found the bait,” Laura said.

“The Lights of Truth are ancient traps. I can see how a rich and powerful person like the regent managed to get some moved to her old vacation home without destroying half of cyberspace, but there isn’t much known about them. I don’t know any way to disable them,” Redjack said.

“But Nighthawk does,” Laura said.

“Oh, right. He did claim to have a way to get through them. But we have no way to contact him,” Spencer said.

“If we caught his attention before, maybe we can catch it again,” Laura said.

“What if we don’t?” Redjack asked.

“Then we look for a way around. They activated when I got part way across the bridge. What if we went under it, or over the island, or through the ground? The tower, it’s important. She had that built for her kids and us cousins. It’s a big playhouse,” she answered.

“Well, those are possibilities,” Redjack conceded.

“What if the bait turns out to be a ruse?” Spencer asked.

“Well, I guess we lay low and learn from our mistakes,” Laura said.

“I think I heard something about Omega Phi looking for something like us hackers. Ever thought about moving off-world?” Redjack said.

“Let’s consider that after we deal with the task at hand,” Spencer said.

Laura stared at an empty mug.

“Grandma, can I have some more coffee?” she called out.

Sophie burst through the kitchen door with a full carafe of coffee and the widest grin.

“You make this old woman so happy, dear!”

A few days had passed before Blossom stepped back into the mansion’s den. It seemed whatever damage occurred during his last visit was repaired.

“Auntie is pretty diligent at maintaining her abandoned property,” she observed.

“That’s a bad sign,” Spencer said.

“Let’s go through with it, anyway. We may get lucky,” she said.

“Just in case, I have a program ready to jack you out in case the lights target you again. It’s going to hurt, but not like what you endured,” Redjack said.

“Okay. Let’s do this,” she said, stepping towards the courtyard doors. She immediately stopped and drew a sharp breath.

“Whoa! Who is that?” Redjack said. Although difficult to see in the dim lighting, there was a man standing in front of the courtyard doors. His dark raiment melded well with the shadows, but the helmet on his head was shaped like a hawk.

“Is that…?” Spencer started.

“Laura,” the man said sternly. Her knees gave out, and she fell on them. Her lips quivered and tears formed.

“That was reckless, the other day. I taught you better,” the man continued.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…I had to…”

“How can you possibly surpass the great Nighthawk with such rookie mistakes?” he demanded.

“I never thought I would get to meet Nighthawk, and now he’s scolding us. I don’t think anything can surprise me anymore,” Redjack said.

“Anastasia isn’t satisfied. She wants us gone. I didn’t think I would have another opportunity!” Blossom pleaded to Nighthawk.

“Sometimes patience requires decades. You can’t expose anything if you lose control and get yourself killed for it,” Nighthawk countered. “And your teammates! Did you not think of them? Didn’t you ignore their warnings?”

Blossom punched the ground in frustration. Nighthawk walked to her.

“Get up,” he said. “Get up. Eyes up and forward. Face me.”

Blossom obeyed, standing to her feet and facing Nighthawk with eyes filled with defiance. Nighthawk grabbed her chin and chuckled softly.

“You’re as stubborn as ever. I’ve missed you, daughter.”

“Nighthawk is…” Spencer said. The sound of his headset hitting a wall replaced the rest of his statement.

“Tell me this is the last surprise we have to deal with. We can’t handle anymore,” Redjack said. Blossom could almost hear his facepalm.

“Where have you been?” Laura said.

“I’m sorry. I had to disappear, like you,” Nighthawk said. He cupped his hands around her head, and then he pulled her into an embrace.

“I missed you,” she said, hugging him back.

She could feel him pull his mask off. There was a shake, and then she felt something like a warm, fuzzy blanket cover her. She pulled back to see a cloak covering her. Her father fastened the clasp at her neck and pulled the hood over her head. He waved a hand, revealing a mirror. In the reflection stood an older version of the father she knew. He leaned on a cane, and his hair and beard were grayer, but age could not erase the pride and intention in which he carried himself. Laura then noticed the ears on the hood and the little duck bill. She laughed, facepalmed, and sang.

“Duck, Duck the Bunny is his name

Helping the children is his game!”

General Blackheart walked around his daughter and tidied the wrinkles and debris off of the cloak. He joined in the song with his gruff, baritone voice.

“When evil rears its ugly head,

Duck will fly in and make it dead.

He saves the world as you can see

Duck is right here for you and me!”

“That was an awful show,” General Blackheart said.

“Yeah, but it kind of stuck,” Laura said.

General Blackheart looked Laura over once more, and then he sighed.

“I’m old and harsh. You suffered greatly from those lights. I hope you can forgive an old man for fearing for his little girl,” he said.

“I’m twenty-seven, Dad.”

“I’m almost 70. You will always be little to me. Now, we have some business to take care of, don’t we?”

Ruffled noises come from Spencer’s headset, followed by a long breath.

“General, do you plan on funding a long vacation for all of us when this is done?” he asked.

“I’ll do that and more if you succeed. How would you folks like to work with the great Nighthawk? I’ll teach you things you never thought possible,” General Blackheart replied.

“I’m ears,” Redjack said.

“You’re really helping us?” Laura said.

“Of course. I can’t have Anastasia harming my little blossom again,”

“What’s the plan?” Spencer said.

“Blossom is going to walk across the bridge and take whatever artifact is in the tower,” Nighthawk said as he pulled on a new hood.

“We tried that last time, and it didn’t work,” Redjack said.

“True, but last time you didn’t have all the necessary tools,” Nighthawk said.

“This cloak,” Blossom said.

“Right. I devised cloaks like this specifically to get past the Lights of Truth. They were a government experiment designed to mine the thoughts of the populace. As you’ve seen, they have painful results, and they were the refined, production versions,” Nighthawk said.

“So, you learned about them while you were actually General,” Spencer said.

“Right. That sort of clearance turned around and made me a legend, though you are the only ones outside my team to know this. Having the archived schematics of old, powerful weapons helped us to devise countermeasures,” Nighthawk said.

“Not to alarm anyone, but that giant gremlin is still there. How has he not seen us yet?” Redjack said.

“Let’s just say I know a few ways to obtain control of my space. I will upload some of those to you,” Nighthawk said. “The rest I cannot give you without causing you trouble.”

“What will the cloak do?” Spencer asked.

“It will reflect the light back to the source, causing it to mine itself. It won’t be destroyed, but it will be kept busy in a recursive loop for several minutes. Unfortunately, they will not be available to keep our friend upstairs at bay. That’s where I come in. I need you gentlemen to back me up while I keep him busy. With a little luck, we can take it out and recover a bit of treasure for ourselves,” Nighthawk said.

“What’s in the tower?” Blossom asked.

“I don’t know, but it will be on you to recover whatever is up there. I imagine Anastasia will have something else planned for you,” Nighthawk said. He placed a hand on her shoulder.

“I saw some of the memories drilled out of you. There was one in particular that caught my attention,” he said. A window appeared, showing a garden in Prime City.

“Wait a minute. Isn’t this where Laura supposedly assaults the regent’s son?” Spencer said.

“Look,” Nighthawk said.

A younger Laura walked down the starlit garden path. She wore a simple dress with golden feathers adorning her shoulders. Walking next to her was her cousin, Lance Plumer, who wore the ceremonial uniform of a colonel of the Prime Sector army. Earlier that day, new officers graduated from officer school, and Lance was one of the top graduates. The party that night was in their honor. Laura naturally attended the party, being the daughter of General Mason. It had been years since she and Lance saw each other, so this party was an excellent opportunity to catch up.

They ambled through the spacious garden for what seemed like hours before they stopped in a secluded corner. The journey was well-remembered. The words and sounds, however, were muffled. Laura barely remembered them. That is, until a certain point. Lance brought his hand up to Laura’s face.

“You really blossomed into a beautiful woman, Laura,” he said.

“Oh, stop it,” she laughed. “I’m still the same kid you ran around with.”

“Maybe we can do something more,” he said. His hand lowered, but before he got anywhere, she grabbed a hold of it. He thrust his other arm at her face, which she dodged and then bit. He yanked that arm back while she held on to the other, spinning under it and using the momentum to flip him onto the ground. She spat in his face and stormed off.

Nighthawk brought up a different window. “This is footage from the security camera,” he said.

The same scene played out, but from a perspective about ten feet away. When Laura stormed off, Lance produced a couple of vials from his coat and collected Laura’s spittle.

“That was much easier than I thought,” he said as he got up. He dusted himself off, looked around, and walked away.

“That…that…” Blossom started.

“It’s hard to know what was and wasn’t fabricated,” Nighthawk said. “So, I just wanted you to know, if this doesn’t work out, and we get separated again, know that I know the truth and have always believed it to be, even when we were being played.”

“If I hadn’t spat on him!” Blossom stormed to the courtyard door.

“Operation start, boys,” Nighthawk said.

Soon, the door swung open, and Blossom stomped her way to the bridge and over it. The spotlights lit up, again blinding her. However, she hid under her cloak while her sight recovered. The cloak lit up, producing a reflective barrier in the shape of Duck the Bunny. With a loud quack, the lights were reflected back to the spotlights. The spotlights shook violently and flickered as they tried to mine the minds that weren’t there.

“You know, she’s going to kill you for that,” Spencer said.

“Won’t be the first time. It’s a father’s job to embarrass his children,” Nighthawk said.

“Bogey is active. Look alive!” Redjack said.

Blossom huddled under her cloak while the sting dissipated from her eyes. When her vision recovered, she resumed her tirade to the island, and then up the path. She planted her foot squarely on the tower door, knocking it over. She climbed the steps as Nighthawk evaded the gremlin outside. The second floor contained four beds. Beside each was a bedstand equipped with a lamp, a few books, and a small shelf of toys. She crossed the room and ascended the next set of stairs. At the top of the stairs was a final door. She stopped for a moment, took a few deep breaths, and composed herself. And then, she knocked.

“Come in,” Anastasia answered.

Blossom stepped in. The room inside was much larger than it should have been. There was a fire roaring in the fireplace across from the door. A tea kettle sat over it. A rug lay in front of the fireplace. To either side of the rug were a pair of comfy chairs. A table with teacups and cookies sat in between them. Anastasia Plumer sat in the one on the right.

“Have a seat,” the regent said.

Blossom sat in the other chair. Anastasia pulled the teapot from the fire, filled the teacups, and placed the pot back on the fire. Blossom took her cup and sipped on it. Chamomile.

“Snickerdoodles?” she asked.

“Yes,” her aunt replied. Blossom took one and nibbled on it silently for a few moments.

“Why haven’t you killed me?”

“I still can.”

“But you haven’t.”

“I can’t.”

The fire crackled loudly.

“Regent DeSpain was a crooked man. I don’t regret exposing him. Removing him from power, and those who profited with him, was necessary for the health of the sector,” Anastasia said.

“What did that have to do with me and father?”

“As his daughter, you should understand how much he values loyalty and duty. If his leader was in danger, no matter how much he actually despised the man, Mason would still take bullets for him.”

“This all was a form of protection?”

“Would you prefer prison and execution?”

“Why did you have Lance…do…argh!”

“Laura, I could never apologize enough for what he did. I instructed him to recover some form of DNA from you. He chose how to do it. The smear campaign was badly handled.”

“You don’t say!” Blossom shot up, ready to throw a punch.

“The Lance on TV is also fabricated. Did you know that?”

“What?”

“The real Lance is doing time in Barghest. That is the penalty for sexual assault, isn’t it?”

“I…didn’t…” She deflated back into her chair. They sat in silence for a while longer.

“You have to expose my crimes,” Anastasia finally said.

“I don’t understand,” Blossom said.

“Mason is fully discredited, but he can live on as Nighthawk. In fact, I think in some ways he prefers it.” At that moment, the large gremlin crawled passed their windows. Shortly after, Nighthawk flew past with some kind of energy weapon in hand, cackling like madman.

“Point.”

“You also have an interest in bringing me down, and it is easy to disprove the false evidence implicating your ‘crimes.’ I brought down Regent DeSpain in the name of justice, and I still believe in that enough to know that I need to step down and leave the regency to someone capable of ruling with clean hands.”

Laura sighed.

“I just wanted my life back,” she said.

“I’m sorry. The old flower has long since withered, but you have already blossomed into a new one. Do this, and you can at least be free to pursue it with your team.”

“What will happen to you?” Laura asked.

“I will probably end up in a cell next to Lance. Either that or I can make my escape to Omega Phi. I hear they need hackers.”

An ear-piercing squeal came from outside.

“Ha ha! We have vanquished the beast!” Nightwing cried out.

“Well, there’s the key to unlock the evidence. Here’s the rest,” Anastasia said. She produced a small lockbox and handed it to Blossom.

“You are not merely the daughter of Mason Blackheart. You are Laura Blackheart, the Blossom of the Depths. My traps have harmed you, but you have lived and learned from them. Now, let us finish staining our family name so that we can reconcile and find peace.”

Anastasia got up, curtsied, and exited in a shower of sparkles. The room phased out and was replaced with a smaller, empty room covered in dust.

“Blossom! Blossom! Are you there?” Spencer called out. Redjack and Nightwing were busy chanting cheers and victory fanfares.

“I’m here. I have it. I have what we came for,” she said.

Over the next few years, the Prime Sector underwent several rounds of political upheaval until the government reformed around a new regent. Careful checks and balances were installed to ensure the validity of the government. Although Laura Blackheart was exonerated of her crimes in the public eye, she remained below the radar. Some believe they can see her entering a hole-in-the-wall cafe, but they are never sure if it’s actually her. Even her clients are not quite sure. The Blossom of the Depths guards her secrets well.

#inklingschallenge #team lewis #clothe the naked

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