#also why did the outright go so hard hello ?????????? when is the entire project released ????? please ?

[mazojo]

Yuki is so me coded I am also delusional

[putschki1969]

Hello, Sara. My name is Claire and I am also a huge fan of Kalafina. In the light of their disband (I dont wanna use this word this makes me sad :( ), I still listen their music every single day. With all my Kalafina enthusiasm, your detail information about Kalafina was really helpful and cleared few things up in my mind. While I have been reading your posts, there are a lot of your thoughts and feelings toward Kalafina that I agree with. So I do appreciate your effort and kindness.

Okay, this is my first time I am using tumblr. didnt know they have limited number of words. So my question is that I know you posted that why Yuki Kajiura left Space Craft due the change of her manager if I remember correctly. And the manager did not allow Kajiura to make music in her own preferences. Do you think this intervention affected Kajiura’s work afterwards. Because when far on the water was released, I thought the way she composes music was a lot different than before.

Hello Claire!

Yes, disbandment does sound very final so it’s really not a word I enjoy hearing in relation to Kalafina. However, I understand why Space Craft decided to use that term. It was time for them to make a clear cut so they could move forward.

No matter what, I am positive that one day they will stand on stage together (even if it is just for a single reunion-live). It will probably take years but it’s definitely going to happen.

Just like you I still listen to Kalafina and their solo projects regularly. I know some people find it painful to relive the old days but I personally find nothing but joy diving into Kalafina’s world again and again.

I am really glad my posts have been helpful. After all, spreading Kalafina-love is the sole purpose of this blog.

Yeah, sorry, Tumblr has quite a lot of character-limits when it comes to asks/messages/replies. Unlike many other social media platforms, Tumblr has not been designed with a focus on interaction (which is probably one of the reasons I chose to create my blog here XD).

Yes, Yuki’s long-time manager Mori ended up leaving Space Craft which in turn led to Yuki ending her contract as well. He had always given her some measure of free rein to do what she wanted. Generally speaking they have always been pretty close. In many of her old and new interviews Yuki talks a lot about wanting to have full control over what she creates. Which is why she was super excited to get the Kalafina project for Kara no Kyoukai. Space Craft put their faith in her and as we know, Yuki spun them gold. That’s not to say that she had control over everything. Creatively speaking, yes, I think she was allowed to make whatever she felt was best. However, the concept of Kalafina as we know them is almost entirely Space Craft’s brainchild. Yuki never meant to form a group with steady members and she definitely did not intend for the singers themselves to have so much spotlight. Let’s not forget, for Yuki, vocalists are really nothing more than human instruments. That’s totally fine of course but Space Craft knew that Kalafina wouldn’t have had a long life expectancy if things had gone according to Yuki’s vision. As a business-minded agency they naturally decided to use typical idol marketing strategies to promote Kalafina. It started with little things but gradually Kalafina became more and more “commercial” if you will. Don’t get me wrong, that’s not a bad thing. Good music alone unfortunately isn’t enough to survive in the Japanese music industry, you have to cater to the masses. And that’s what they did. Endless photo-heavy merch, lots of mainstream anime tie-ins, more elaborate stage productions, tons of appearances in popular events/TV programs etc…It’s those things that made their fanbase grow considerably which eventually led to them being able to perform THREE times at Nippon Budokan.

So yeah, what I am trying to say is that while Yuki gradually lost control over Kalafina as a “product” I don’t believe she ever yielded an inch when it came to her creative process. All the music she wrote was written because she wanted to write it, I am convinced of that. She doesn’t strike me as the type of person to phone in her work. Yes, her style has undergone some changes throughout the years (which weren’t always met with appreciation by fans) but for the most part I would say she has stayed faithful to her unique style (which most gifted composers do).

When “far on the water” was produced and released back in 2015 Mori was still Yuki’s manager and everything was perfectly fine. Any changes you might have noticed were absolutely on purpose. No one made Yuki do anything or guided her in a particular direction. This album is entirely her own vision and she loved making it, she has talked a lot about that in various interviews. She was also brimming over with further ideas for a new album which she was eager to produce (but alas, that never happened).

Things didn’t start falling apart until early 2017 when Mori left Space Craft (things didn’t seem to be perfectly peachy in late 2016 either but that’s reaching a bit too far). The changes from then onwards were very visible. Mori stopped being featured in the FictionJunction Club newsletters, the launch of Kalafina’s very own fan club Harmony was announced, all sorts of YK Lives went on hiatus, Kalafina’s 6th studio album which technically would have been due that year was never made, all focus went into increasing Kalafina’s live activities. I cannot say if at that point everyone had already predicted Kalafina’s fate and Space Craft were just milking the cow for all it’s worth or if that was a genuine effort to keep Kalafina alive as long as possible. I am leaning towards something in the middle of these two options. I think everyone involved had hoped for a better ending (or rather - no ending at all) but along the way (autumn 2017 I would say) it became clear to them that it wouldn’t work out.

I never outright said that the new management didn’t allow Yuki to do her own thing. Honestly, I have no idea if whoever replaced Mori was planning to take control of Yuki’s music. I suspect however that the new management might have wanted to take more of a lead which definitely would have put off Yuki… While tabloid articles have talked about creative differences between Yuki and the new manager, Yuki herself has never confirmed that that was the reason for her leaving (not that she ever would even if it were true). Yuki did however confirm in one of her FictionJunction Station newsletters that she no longer felt comfortable going on tour since she didn’t have the people around that she could trust. Maybe for a similar reason she didn’t feel like making a new Kalafina album which is why they had to focus so heavily on live activities that year.We are all creatures of habit. Yuki seems to only feel comfortable with Mori around. That’s fine. The only logical thing to do for her was follow his lead and leave Space Craft. Unfortunately she couldn’t take Kalafina with her so they ended up being collateral damage…*sighs*

And here we have another essay, sorry about that. it wasn’t my intention to write so much. My point is that I believe that in her time with Space Craft nothing/no one affected Yuki’s creative work, from the very first song “oblivious” right up until “Tombo” all songs are 100% Yuki and they were written/composed with much love, effort and dedication. Fans may not like everything she has created throughout the years but that’s just how life works. They have a hard time computing the fact that their favourite composer might have changed to an extent that they can’t appreciate anymore or that they themselves have developed different preferences. In such cases fans are eager to find someone to blame for that. Since they would rather not blame their idol Yuki they resort to blaming Space Craft. Space Craft have certainly done a lot of shitty stuff throughout the years but it would never cross my mind to make them responsible for Yuki’s music because that has always been under her control. 

Really, you shouldn’t be blaming anyone. These things happen, people change, people fall out of love with something. It’s easy to complain and lament the old days but what you have to do is just accept it, move forward and find something else.

[chyrstis]

Nice try (but it won’t work twice)

It’s Whitetail Mountain time, and also time for Jess and Jacob to say hello.

Rating: T Word Count: 5.7K

Link to AO3!

___

As it turns out, earning Jacob’s attention doesn’t take much effort at all. A fact that the Deputy wishes weren’t the case.

______________

The F.A.N.G. Center had been home to all sorts of creatures.

Not necessarily the fanged kind – cue Sharky’s audible disappointment – but it hadn’t been out of bounds to expect to see wolves, wolverines, and even bears resting and healing up within its walls. One bear in particular had been the singular draw, and Cheeseburger was as adorable as a full-sized grizzly bear with maximum mauling capacity could get.

With the cult in charge, its focus had been redirected.  Repurposed for something much, much worse, if what she’d heard about the Judges was true. Wolves were dangerous enough on their own. Adding bliss to the mix was a possibility that she didn’t even want to entertain.

So, when Dutch had called in, saying that one of the caretakers of the place had been holding out, looking for help, Hana made a little detour. It hadn’t been hard to convince either Sharky or Hurk – the latter of which was just itching to dig into any kind of mayhem in general – and she pulled up on the outskirts of the center so the three could find a way in.

Just because said way involved rockets didn’t mean it was entirely a bad one, but it was far from quiet, and soon enough, the entire place was on fire, literally and figuratively.

When she wasn’t choking on smoke, or stomping out the flames threatening to climb up the leg of Sharky’s pants, she was trading fire with the handful of Peggies stationed there, none of which actually had Judges to back them up. That had been a small blessing in and of itself, and she gave the universe a mental high-five before digging for a spare stick of dynamite.  

The rest fell into place after that, leaving the F.A.N.G. Center singed, but standing.

She asked Dutch to put out a call to see if they could get some people to the center to lock it down, and with that resolved, the three had settled in to wait for them.

There was one outstanding problem, however. Cheeseburger wasn’t on the grounds, and hadn’t been seen since he was released.

Cheeseburger’s caretaker, Wade, pointed them all in the direction of where Cheeseburger had run off to, not even fazed by the fact that an actual bear was on the loose. The cult had been interested in seeing what could be done with the animal, possibly by dosing it with bliss as well, and he’d let it go shortly before the center had been taken.

With that as the alternative, she found herself agreeing with him. She hadn’t seen any of the converted wolves yet, but a blissed out megabear did not need to be added to the mix.  

Sharky and Hurk had opted to bear hunt, while she decided to hold down the fort. She made the two swear up and down that they would yell for her if things went south before leaving, and hoped like hell they would actually take her up on the offer instead of winging it.  

The souvenir shop she hadn’t had a chance to visit while it was all intact and operating before, and looked better suited now to a spot from an apocalypse film. The work they had done to clear the place out hadn’t helped, but the wind was technically blowing the fires in the opposite direction of this building, so…at least it wasn’t going to add to the look.

Hana pushed the door open, listening to it creak as it swung inward. It was a small building, and most of the items on display had been scattered across the shelves and the floor.

There were the usual items, like t-shirts and postcards, but the stuffed cheeseburgers and teddy bears drew a smile from her as she walked past them. She came to a dead stop when she saw it, however.

The bobblehead stared back at her from its place on the shelf. The bear itself had a giant smile, one bordering well on goofy, and when she picked it up to get a closer look, nearly dropped it when it started to speak.

“You smell just like a cheeseburger! Yum!”

The voice laughed, and she shuddered. “Hello, nightmare fuel.”

That sound likely haunted many a small child’s dreams, and wasn’t just limited to the toys. The speakers outside kept on playing other recorded phrases on repeat, all of which followed a similar theme. For people aiming to bank on selling merch, they could not have done a more severe disservice to a beloved mascot.

She set the bobblehead down with the same care she’d use for fine china, and slowly backed away before moving on.

Nearby two wanted posters were hanging up on the wall. One for an Eli Palmer, and the other was torn, only leaving the bottom edge with the name remaining. That one was for Jess Black.

Figures Jess would be a total mystery. Dutch hadn’t described his niece’s appearance, and she hadn’t asked, so Hana was going to have to hope that if she did run into Jess without warning, she’d be able to introduce herself before the bullets started flying. Dutch had said she was up near the lumber mill which they had cut around to grab Hurk. Swinging back to check for her made sense while they were well within reach. The statue had been her driving goal for the last few days, but it could wait.

Eli, on the other hand, she could get a good look at. Or as good of a look as the image presented showed. The long hair and beard definitely gave off the great outdoorsman vibe, and she found it difficult to tell his age because of it.

So, this was him, eh? At least she had a face to the name, even if it wasn’t looking likely she was going to meet him any time soon, if at all.  

Dutch had mentioned he was the head of the group giving Jacob the most push-back up here, the Whitetail Militia. Though, he hadn’t sugarcoated any of his words when it came to how well they were doing. Pressure from Jacob had come non-stop, and the long-standing endurance fight was one that had been wearing them down for a while now.

It was only a matter of time before the Resistance could kiss the Whitetails goodbye, so even if she couldn’t link up with them officially, she could at least take some of the attention off of them. That, she was getting to be quite good at.

“Still,” she mused, crossing her arms as she thought over the events of the day, “maybe you might wanna dial this back a little, eh? Guy’s not going to want to talk if you’re busy setting fires on his doorstep.”

“Deputy, do you copy?”

The radio at her side cracked as Dutch’s voice came through, and she picked it up. “Yeah, Dutch. I’m here. Everything okay?” If she had to ask, the answer was no, but she wanted him to confirm it first.

“Where are you right now?”

“In a room full of cheeseburgers, if that’s any clue.” She took a look around the souvenir shop again, her radio in hand, and crept over to one of the windows. “I’m at the F.A.N.G. Center right now. Why?”

“There’s been some talk on a few of the other channels about an explosion near there. Multiple.”

She winced. “You don’t say?”

“Bet I can shoot right between that gap in the bars, tagging both of those Peggies while threading the needle like a maestro.”

The gap in question she checked out with her binoculars, looking like a tight fit. “With a rocket?”

“With my one and only,” Hurk said proudly.

Sharky only served to back him up, standing right by his side as the three huddled close. “Cuz’ll get it. He’s a pro at this kind of shit.”

She thought it over for a grand total of ten seconds before saying, “Do it.”

“Uh, there might have been some noise. Maybe more than intended, but nothing was hit that didn’t deserve it. Should be quiet from now on.” She paused, considering both herself and the company she was currently keeping. “Quieter, at least.”

“Not quiet enough.”

That was not Dutch.

“Looks like someone is playing at being a soldier.”

This was not a friendly. Not when speaking with an edge like that, and that narrowed down the potential list of people calling her to one.

“So, that doesn’t get me a sparkling seal of approval from the man himself, huh?”

“No,” Jacob replied, the response flat. “You’re a problem. One that I’ve been told needs solving.”

When John had contacted her like this down at the Woodsons', he hadn’t dismissed her outright. Had even traded a few comments with her as she tried sniping at him right up until he mentioned sending people to get her.

Jacob was not John, however, and trying that same method with him was quickly looking to be a huge mistake.

“There’s work to be done, and what you are doing is counter to our progress. What threatens the Project, threatens us, and I don’t have time for games. There’s no use in running. You won’t get far.”

Only static filled the air after that. She stared at the radio for a few seconds, her finger hovering over the call button, and eventually cracked when no one else spoke up. “Dutch?”

“…ey! Kid, respond! Are you still there?”

“Yes.” The word sounded smaller than intended, and she cleared her throat before speaking again. “ETA on the guys headed here?”

“Last I heard, they’re about fifteen to twenty out. A group of Peggies tried to cut them off, but they’re still coming.”

Along with whatever Jacob was planning, and here she was, practically alone - short of having Wade nearby - swearing to herself next to a pile of teddy bears and burgers.

“Oh, this is bad. This is bad,” she muttered, giving the empty store a quick scan before holding the radio up again. She needed to call the guys back. Now. “I’ll figure it out. Just tell them that-“

A small, piercing sting to the back of her neck cut her off mid-word.

She slapped at the spot, hoping to swat the damn bug that had bit her. Instead her fingers closed around a small object. One that stung when she plucked it from her neck, and brought it in front of her face to examine.

A dart. A red dart.

“Are you fucking serious…?” she said, her words slurring.

She fell to the side, her sunglasses clattering on the tile below, and a set of hands grabbed her roughly before she could hit the floor. There were two figures in the shop with her, both with their faces covered, but their eyes exposed.

A disappointed sigh was the last thing that left her, as her eyes slid shut.

---

“Hey.”

Hana’s eyelids fluttered, then closed.

“Hey!”

She felt a flick to her shin, and she tensed, sucking in a breath through her teeth. “Ow!”

When she opened her eyes, the woman crouching down beside her backed up, one hand tucked close to the pockets of her green overshirt, and the other curled around a small knife.

Her hood was pulled up over her head, tangled dirty-blonde strands spilling out of it, and her eyes remained set on Hana as she watched her closely.

Hana slowly rubbed her hands over her aching leg, not wanting to drop eye contact just in case that would be the thing to set her off. Her legs were stiff, however. Unable to be moved apart.

When she glanced down to see what was locking them in place, she noticed the ropes, wound tightly around her ankles. The two were in an isolated spot, somewhere in the forest proper, surrounded by trees, and no other voices could be heard within range off them.

Slowly Hana raised her hands in surrender as the seconds ticked on, and tried not to let too much of her nervousness show.

“Don’t,” the woman said, rolling her eyes. “I’m not here to hurt you.”

“Says the woman with the knife.”

“I was in the process of cutting you loose. I saw you moving and thought it’d be better to let you know now instead of during, so you don’t fucking kick me.”

She noticed the large compound bow slung over her back, along with the words painted onto her clothes. All of them were a stark white against the green fabric, all of them roughly written, and as Hana took another look at her, she tried not to focus on how deep some of the scars on the woman’s face were.

“Thanks,” she said, swallowing the lump in her throat. “I think I owe you one, then. Sorry for being….well, me.”

“And who are you?”

“Oh, uh. Shit. I’m Hana. Or if you want to be formal, Deputy Vao, the asshole running around stirring up trouble.”

The woman gave her a curious look. “Deputy.”

“Yeah, Deputy.”

“Yeah, I did hear about some asshole of a deputy running around. Just not up here until now.” She leaned down and grabbed for the ropes, her knife glinting as they sawed through them. “Chatter’s scattered, but there.”

“Gotta love it when your reputation precedes you. And you are?”

“Jess. Jess Black.”

“Holy shit.  Dutch was…he told me to keep an eye out for you here.”

“Did he?” She helped Hana unwind the cut ropes from her legs, and tossed them aside. “And here I was wondering if I’d ever get to meet you. He’d only been talking you up ever since this shit started. How the cult’s having a fucking crisis over just how much damage you’ve done, and that’s just the something we need more of around here.”

“Well, I aim to please, and anything that makes their lives that much worse, I’ll gladly do in spades. So, if you have any suggestions, name it. I meant it when I said I owed you.”

Jess thought it over for a few seconds, studying her face this time. Eventually she gave her a small nod. “I’ve been tracking patrols. Looking for any of Jacob’s pet Chosen that would report back to the Cook. I was following a new route, but saw the men dragging you back to the VA Center, and no one that goes in there comes back out. And if they do, not right. Not after hitting the Chair.”

“And here I was thinking I had shit luck.”

“Still was if they got you. He’ll try again.”

That was not something she was looking forward to, but for now she’d take it. “Of course he is. The Seeds really have a problem taking no for an answer, no matter who I’m talking to. …Who’s the Cook?”

Jess’s mouth twisted into a sneer. “He’s a twisted fuck. One that should’ve been put down a long time ago. Instead he’s here, playing into Jacob’s ‘cull the weak’ bullshit, and using it as an excuse to do things that-“ She took in a shaky breath, her hands shaking slightly, but on the exhale they stilled. “To do things to people that no fucking person would ever think they’re capable of.”

Hana shifted, watching as Jess’s gaze which had been locked on her not even five minutes ago, shifted to the bushes surrounding them instead. “All of those things are solid reasons,” she replied, crossing her legs under her. “What do you need me to do?”

“Just get me close enough to kill him. That’s all that matters.”

“Done.”

Jess looked over at her and snorted. “You don’t need much convincing, do you?”

“You saved my life, and the world could always use one fewer motherfucker in it, so…” That got her the briefest of smiles, and Hana couldn’t help her grin in return.  “Yeah, I’m in.”

Hopping to her feet, she patted herself down, wondering what had been left on her, only to notice her bag resting nearby. The relief that hit upon seeing it was immense, and Jess sighed when Hana hugged the gear to her chest.

“They didn’t bother to remove it before dragging you along, so you got lucky.”

“Hell yeah, I did.” Kissing it would’ve been overboard, but as she went through it, she was tempted to. Especially when she found her radio, banged up as it was, but still intact. “So damn lucky.”

“Come on.” Jess tilted her head to gesture out towards the woods. “Daylight’s burning, and we need to head past the lumber mill before dark.”

“Hey, uh, Jess? You didn’t happen to see two guys wandering around close to the F.A.N.G. Center, by any chance? One in green, loves fire, but hopefully isn’t on fire, and the other leaning really hard into the whole ‘America, fuck yeah!’ theme?”

The next look Jess gave her stopped Hana in her tracks. “You were with them? No wonder Jacob was able to find and pick you up in record time. They’re like a herd of fucking elephants.”

“Hey, I’ll have you know they don’t set off every alarm.”

“Just most of them. You too, if I’ve heard right.”

Hana’s face flushed as she recalled just how big one of the explosions had been back at the F.A.N.G. Center, taking out the incoming trucks as she’d reached over to high-five Hurk. Jacob’s call had come not even five minutes before she’d been tranq-ed, and she’d been handling souvenirs for God’s sake.

They’d played right into Jacob’s hands, and lucky for all of them, she’d been the only one taken. If Jess hadn’t found her… God, where would she be right now? Would anyone have known?

Each thought that followed was worse than the last, and when Hana did finally reply to Jess, it was after letting out a long breath through her teeth.   “Touche.”

“You want to radio them, go ahead, but if you want to do this, I need you quiet. I will not lose him again.”

“If I’m going to be honest with you, I’m kinda crap at the whole stealth thing too, but…I’ll try. I owe you that.”

“Good. Follow me.”

---

They had a lot of ground to cover. While the mill hadn’t been too far from the center by car, going by foot was a different story. Jess made it look effortless, cutting through any paths in the brush without interference, and didn’t let anything slow her down.

She, on the other hand, was a city kid. This was not her schtick, though Hana did genuinely think at times that she was adapting pretty well. Just not when she was forcing herself through bushes, and snagging herself on branches, while stepping on every brittle leaf known to man.

Jess told her to stay close, but distance did end up creeping between them. She would check back, throwing one hell of a dirty look at her when it seemed like she was going to get left behind, but there was no waving Jess on ahead.

The other woman refused outright, and Hana couldn’t argue with that either after the second time Jess doubled-back to find her. After being drugged and taken three times now – and counting -   she couldn’t afford to be alone out here, no one could, and eventually Jacob was going to want to know where she went.

And she still hadn’t been able to get ahold of Sharky or Hurk. She’d tried radioing the two along the way, the signal unclear as she gave it a few solid smacks. It’d taken a beating, but hadn’t completely crapped out yet. At least, she hoped it hadn’t.

Shit, what if their radio was out? “Hello?” She let go of the button, then spoke again when no one answered. “Shurky? Hark? Whatever team name mash-up you two decided on, copy? It’s the Deputy. You guys still out here?”

Static came through, but she could hear voices as they faded in and out. This was bad. She’d try again later, but hopefully this wasn’t going to stick.

Jess stopped, holding up her hand.

She raised an eyebrow at her, but didn’t budge. A sound rose in the air, a howl, growing louder by the second until tailing off.  

“Judges,” Jess drew her bow, and crouched down low in the grass.

Reaching for her rifle, Hana watched as Jess all but disappeared, blending into the woods surrounding them. A lump was growing in her throat, and she worked to swallow.

“-copy, roger-“

She slapped at the radio at her side, switching it off. Every hair stood on end as she turned in place, and when she heard the charge, heard the crashing through the brush it was almost too late.

Something quick flew past her, and she darted to the side, jumping clear of the spot where the large wolf would’ve pounced. With white fur, this wolf was larger than the others, its snarling jaws wide as it whirled to stare her down.

The handgun by her side was the quickest choice, and she fired, watching as the Judge shot forward, going for her. It was on her, it would reach her like this, and she tumbled back, screaming as she kept on firing.

Two arrows buried themselves in its side, and it cut away, leaving Hana scrambling back away from it. She didn’t wait this time. She saw the flash of white, saw the red streaked across its forehead and down its nose, and ran.

Distance. She needed something between her and it, other than air.

Her handgun tumbled to the ground, her fumbling making her miss her holster, and she grabbed for her rifle. Tucked it close, as she heard the animal bearing down on her with heavy breaths.

Turning now would be a mistake. Turning now with no clear shot would be a serious mistake.

A quick look over her shoulder told her what she knew. The Judge was there, white stained red, but it branched off from her, darting back into the bushes.

She skidded to a stop and fired, sending a full burst of shots into the woods. The howling stopped, cutting off sharply, but she heard movement still. Not just her own nervous pacing as she ducked behind a tree, her attention jumping to anything and everything.

She sucked in a breath, her heart hammering, and looked for Jess.

“Jess?”

No answer came. In fact, the only sound she could hear now was her shaky inhale.

“…Jess?”

She broke into a run, getting up from her position only to scream in pain as something sharp drove into her left thigh. It sent her down to the ground, her mind yelling at her to move even as her body rebelled against her.

She twisted on the ground, trying to push herself up as she took in the arrow jutting out of her right thigh. An actual arrow, stuck deep.

The shock of it took a few seconds to sink in, but when it did, panic welled up fast.

Oh. Oh, fuck. So this is what happens when the tranqs fail.

Each stab of the metal lodged in her leg was agony as she moved, but after a few seconds, it was no longer as sharp. As present. She set her head down on the ground, her breaths slowing as she rested there, drifting.

She shouldn’t have. Knew she should keep moving, but just couldn’t bring herself to.

---

Her eyes were open. They were open, but there was nothing to see in front of her. Not at first. Only blurred shapes as she felt hands lift, and set her down.

Her head rolled as she leaned back in the seat she was placed in, her eyes trying to adjust to the dark. A light flashed, the image bright against the back of the room. It was almost too much to look at, but Hana let herself focus in on it, seeing the image for what it was.

Someone took her wrists in their hands, placing them one by one on the arms of the chair. The light behind them made it difficult to see who it was at first, and she held her eyes shut for a few seconds, before opening them again.

The realization of just who was standing in front of her hit hard enough to leave her gaping up at him, struggling to say something. Anything. “…Stace? Oh, God,” she whispered.

The bags under Pratt’s eyes were dark, his face drawn and thin. He was unable to focus on any one spot for more than a second at a time, and she winced when he strapped her wrists down tight.

This wasn’t the guy that had dropped a huge stack of papers on her desk in the middle of the day, telling her that the documentation was wrong and needed to be hand-corrected one by one. This wasn’t the guy that had called her Probie whenever she’d trip up on something basic and make a small mistake in front of Whitehorse. This wasn’t the guy that complained when she’d bought them all coffee one day only to remind her he’d asked for a damn latte instead.

This was another man. One that curled into himself to seem smaller, his hands trembling as he stared deep into her eyes, unblinking, as he withdrew.  “You shouldn’t have come for me. You shouldn’t have.”

A voice was speaking, the words coming to her clearer now as she shook off the last of the drowsy feeling, but she didn’t turn her head towards it. Hana looked at Pratt instead, mouthing, I’m here for you, before trying her bonds. He’d locked them down securely.

The look he gave her in return he held for a few seconds before dropping his eyes to the ground. He backed away, clear out of view.

The whirring of the projector’s motor hit her ears then. As did two words. Weak. Soft. Neither of these things the voice spared his distaste for.

She took in the room they were in, the click of the projector drawing her attention as the image in front of her changed. She wasn’t alone. Others were seated as well, all of them restrained as they watched.

“…our heroes used to be gods. They did not give in to doubt. To let go of their ideals, when convenient. They did not lose what it meant to survive."

The owner of the voice took his place in front of them, still speaking, still facing away. He was wearing a camo jacket, marking him as either military or a guy set on copping the style as he paced forward, the bones of the animal on-screen now scattered across his back.

“These heroes, the ones we would follow now, are no gods. They are weak, feeble, diseased.”

But she did know this voice. Had heard it before, had seen a flash of this person before, and it wasn’t going to take her three guesses, let alone five to tell her just who this was.

When Jacob Seed turned towards them, he didn’t wait for them to answer, or to respond. Only continued as the images in front of them grew more violent.

“They use this power to guide us forward with no direction, the many, leading the few, but they forget what history has taught us. That sacrifices must be made.”

The wolf on screen was tearing at a fallen deer, its flesh coming away from the bone.

“That we must cull the herd so it stays strong.”

Hana counted the clicks, watched the slides change, and watched as Jacob turned towards her. He still spoke to the room as a whole, but it was different now. He knew where she was, and there was no hiding here.

“Over and over, the lives of the many have outweighed the lives of the few. This is how we’ve survived.”

The lights and images were distorted as he came closer. Every step, highlighting or hiding him until he was right in front of her, staring down. He was a tall man to start, but from her current position she felt so much smaller, her eyes wide as he zeroed in on her.

Her hands clenched into hard fists, her nails digging into the palms of her gloves.

“This, we’ve forgotten, but now the bill has come due.”

She’d hardly prepared herself when Jacob leaned down, and she felt the legs of the chair drag across the floor towards him. The burns were easier to see up close, the skin on parts of his face rougher and heavily scarred.

And as he intended, his eyes held her.  

“With the Collapse, there can be no doubt. This time the lives of the few outweigh the lives of the many, and when they realize what they’ve lost, that this time there’ll be no one to save them from madness, hunger, or desperation, we’ll be ready.”

He let go, standing at his full height again. Her jaw unclenched as distance was re-established between them, but when he reached for a small box on a nearby table, she didn’t know what to do next.

“We will cull the herd.” He started winding a small lever on its side, attention still set on her. “We will do what needs to be done.”

It opened, and her whole body tensed.

Music played, the words to an old love song coming to mind.

She gasped at the sudden pounding in her head, at her response, and saw red.

Only red.

Only you.

She squeezed her eyes shut, only to feel the sensation recede as her senses went into overdrive. Opening her eyes, everything narrowed into focus. It was the same room, the same chair she had been strapped to, but they were alone now.

Her bonds were gone, removed from her wrists.

The wolf flickered on the screen in front of her, snarling around the viscera in its jaws. Seconds ticked by in her ears, the sound echoing in the small room as she stood up from her seat, rooted to the very spot.

What, what am I…?

A gun rested on the desk in front of her, and her heartbeat quickened, her attention on the two men still strapped to their chairs up front. They pulled at their bonds, and they came loose.

She stared down at her hands, watched as they trembled, and felt a pull. An urge.

Arm yourself.

They stood, whirling on her, guns raised, and the buzzing in her ears reached a fever pitch. Her fist shot out, punching one squarely in the throat. He went down as the other fired, and she tried to sidestep around him. The shot grazed her upper arm.

Again.

She gasped, pain shooting through her system, through her thigh as she placed her weight on it, and fought him for the gun, turning it on him. It went off, the flash blinding her briefly, but soon her vision came back, the edges of it tinged red. Only red.

Keep moving.

The room opened up, the doorway ahead leading to a hall.

She ran down the corridor, reaching for the weapon presented to her, her nerves on fire. She couldn’t stop. Couldn’t relax. Three men had the upper hand above her, perched high, all of them training their weapons on her. Only her.

Do it. Cull the herd.

Cull the- Pain lanced through her again, making her clutch her head. Bullets hit the barrier in front of her, and she pushed ahead once it cleared, climbing up towards those hiding there. They would get her. Find her. Hunt her down. Kill her.

She fired, again, and again, and again, listening for the voice. Waiting for it to let her continue.

Again.

The room changed, resetting her position in space. She took the offered knife, and continued through the maze.

She fell, clawing through the dirt as the person above fired.

Pushing up, she ran towards them and sank her knife into their chest. She repeated the motion over and over until they crumpled at her feet.

She stared down at her hands. At red, so red.

Good.

This was-what was she doing?

Her body quaked, sickness running through her.

Move.

It settled deep into her stomach, and she gagged.

Keep moving.

Sucking in a breath, she squashed the feeling down, spitting bile out onto the floor.

Up ahead she had to climb. To rise. A man slammed into her as she was standing up, forcing her to bring her knee up to kick him back. Her muscles screamed, but she couldn’t have them fail. Not now. Not while the clock was ticking.  

She grabbed her holstered gun and dove in close, pistol-whipping him hard enough across the face for blood to fly. That didn’t stop when he hit the ground, and she let it go. Any measure, any degree of restraint.

It bled out through her limbs, through her body onto the floor. That wouldn’t help her. That wouldn’t save her.

Excellent.

Her hands were slick, a dark, deep red as she stood up and walked through the doorway, down the same hall she had traveled before.

This time she didn’t look down at them. She didn’t waver.

Ahead she needed to climb. She gripped the steps, pulled herself up as the clock kept on moving, kept on ticking.

Before her, was the end. Before her was the only path left, leading down a long chute.

She jumped, and didn’t feel a thing as she hit the bottom.

---

Hands grabbed at her chair. Righted her, pushing her up to sit.

Red flashed in her vision. The only thing that she could connect to before. To the room. To the chair. To the music.

She could hear people speaking. One, two, three. Maybe more.

A projector flashed in her mind, showing Staci, then Jacob. He held a box. A small brown box.

Why can’t she-

Her cough came out as a harsh rasp.

“Holy shit!”

She was dropped, the chair clattering to the ground, and her breaths came fast as her chest grew tight.

“-we’ve got a live one! Quick get her out-“

Why can’t she remember it? Any of it?

“She’s looking bad, hurry-“

She doesn’t know.

She doesn’t.