31.1:《A|?》 shall we cleave the distance that cleaves us?

「page iv」

°

「

I once had a beautiful apple tree which was gifted to me as a sapling when I was a child. Not so long after I replanted it in my garden, however, it began to droop and wither.  No amount of nurturing, watering, nor repotting seemed to slow its steady decay.

In my yard, I also had an old lamia tree which had grown in thick and sturdy. I thought to myself— ‘if only my apple tree were as strong as that.’  An idea came to mind in that instant and I spent the entire day ensuring it came to fruition.  By the next morning, a segment of the two trees were grafted together—the apple tree serving as a scion and the lamia tree the rootstock.

During the next season, the apple tree bloomed beautifully with bright white leaves and blossoming, five-petaled flora with iridescent quality. 

However, the tree bore no fruit.

I wonder if that apple tree could have still been considered an apple tree with such a flaw. I wonder if that apple tree could have still been considered itself. Most likely, the tree itself would not even know the difference. 

Perhaps I should have just let it die.  

」

°

“We’re here.”

Atienna locked eyes with Nico through the rear view mirror. Araceli, who sat in the passenger seat beside him, offered an accompanying smile to Nico’s frown. Atienna looked out the window beside her. A square leashed in by yellow tape lay several meters away. In-between the khaki-uniformed officers walking through, around the square and yellow tape, white digits could be seen sticking up here and there amongst the limestone. 

“I… thought I was going to meet Maria,” Atienna said faintly. Though she did feel light-headed thinking about drawing close to those detached body parts, she couldn’t help but feel that throb of curiosity.

Syzygy, those hands spelled out.

Syzygy.

Of all words—why… syzygy? 

There were no such things as coincidences, Werner had once said. ‘What are coincidences?’ the Werner who was here would probably ask in response to that.

“You are. She’s coming here,” Nico replied. “Figured it’d help if you got a look at everything first hand. Jog your memory or something. I don’t have all the details, but I heard that there’s this idea about this Raincoat Killer read something you wrote and got inspired by it.”

Sefu who sat in the seat beside her bristled. “Are you accusing her of—”

Nico reached for the rearview mirror and tilted it so that he could stare down Sefu. “Hey, VNW, you’d be back up in the Small Services District if we weren’t lenient with you. You’re on thin ice and your skates don’t look great.”

Peculiar choice of words for a threat.

Araceli took hold of the rearview mirror from him and turned it so she could make eye contact with Sefu. “You were approved, Sefu Imamu, to exit the Small Services District. That is worth something. You needn’t be concerned about returning to that District unless you truly do something extreme.” She turned the mirror to make eye contact with Atienna next. “Your help is greatly appreciated.”

Atienna responded with a smile in kind. “Oh, it’s no big ask. Would you mind if I asked how the others we were with at Cadence’s residence are doing?” 

“Depends on how Gilbert’s whole new VNW program works out,” Nico replied. “That whole ELPIS move could be the kink in the armor. Gilbert’s probably really pissed.”

They exited the vehicle together. 

Araceli broke off to speak with some of the other guidance officers, while Nico led Atienna and Sefu closer and closer to the cage of yellow tape. The other guidance officers were scattered about—too focused on analyzing the scene to pay their approach any mind.

Nico stopped them short of the yellow tape. Beyond it, Atienna could just barely see the outline of the hands. The grainy footage recorded by Hilton Tyler hadn’t provided too much coverage of the scene, so Atienna had been going through different variations of what the scene could look like in her mind. The image in her mind was most definitely more fantastical. 

“I wonder… should I get closer?” Atienna asked more to herself than anyone else.

Sefu tensed. “Are you sure, Atienna?” 

Atienna nodded.

“That’s what you’re here for.” Nico lifted the yellow tape.

Sefu lifted it higher from her and subsequently followed her as she entered the square. Nearer and nearer she drew to the hands, each step ingraining each finger, each palm, each digit more and more in reality. 

Her mind suddenly went back to that time in the bleak midwinter in Capricorn when all those corpses had been precariously gathered together at the center of that snowy clearing. Careless, it had seemed then—stacking them up on each other like building blocks. Even books tended to be cared for more gingerly, she had thought upon later reflection. However, Atienna knew then and now that it was better to callously gather than carelessly ignore. 

The coldness of the bodies here just like the bodies back there made it a bit easier to deal with them. The fact that there were no faces attached to the bodies—rather, the appendages—made it even easier now. 

“What kind of animal would do this,” Sefu muttered beside her.

Yes—how terrible. 

“How terrible…” Atienna repeated as she inspected one of the hands. It was clenching a fistful of petals. 

Murder in utopia.

An ironic thought.

Murder, death, threshold. Could one really die when they were in a space in-between life and death? Was it possible for a world to come to life in that space? Perhaps this was that space—that crack between this life and the next? When she had heard Francis speak of it the first time, she had thought it had sounded rather romantic and fantastical. A concept plucked straight from one of her reading books. To have it brought into reality would have been a dream if it were anything else. That was why she was somewhat doubtful—not of its existence but of its importance. But who was she to deny the reality of importance of others?

Atienna wondered if she should have disclosed these thoughts to the peacekeepers and new arrivals. No, she knew she should have—though she supposed that a concept as mystical-seeming as the threshold would have led to some doubts since questioning reality had become as common here as breathing. 

“Do you know who these… hands belong to?” she asked. It felt like such a peculiar question to ask but in this situation if she had asked anything else, she would be even more peculiar.

“No, we’re not sure yet. There’ve been a couple of missing person’s reports in the outer ring of the districts recently, but it’s easy to catch VNW there, so we’d have to confer with Small Services.” 

“Would I be correct in my assumption that the outer ring houses new Ndotoan immigrants?”

Nico nodded. “We’ll know more when forensics touches base. Better to not think it’s getting freaky deeky here.”

Peculiar words aside, Atienna assumed the forensics in Ndoto was more advanced than the forensics she knew of—most likely vastly different from what the General Investigations Department of Ophiuchus used. She wondered if Jericho would be able to garner any sort of ideas or conclusions if he were here in her place. Certainly, his intuition would lead him directly to the bottom of this place—and this crime scene too.

She returned her attention back to the hands. Some were intertwined with each other intimately, while others were pointing in this and that directions. 

Why hadn’t this person displayed the entire body instead of just a body part? Too heavy to transport so many perhaps?  Assuming that was the case, why would they choose only hands to spell out this word? Again—simply because they were easier to transport? Or because of the hands themselves—a body part that played a significant role in daily life. Giving, accepting, pointing—pointing in directions… Direction? 

Atienna’s mind went to Claire.

Would it be brash for her to assume that he wasn’t the culprit even with all of this conspicuousness. He—rather, the person she assumed was somehow behind his facade—didn’t seem the type for dramatics like this. Yes, he was more of a direct person, wasn’t he? Somewhat? 

And what was the intention of the culprit? There were two perspectives here.

“They’re all pointing in specific directions,” Atienna drew slowly upon realization. 

“We checked that,” Nico said. “They’re pointing in all different directions. There’s nothing to it. It’s all random.”

“I’m not denying that,” Atienna drew, studying the limbs. “They certainly are pointing in different directions, but… there’s a pattern to that pointing, isn’t there?” She gestured down the back of the ‘S’. “Three hands pointing left, a pair of hands intertwined. A cluster of chrysanthemums placed almost as if it’s a space. That pattern repeats again. Another chrysanthemum. And then there two pairs of hands intertwined…”

Down the back of the ‘S’, the pattern continued—three hands pointing left, a flower,  three hands pointing left, another flower, two hands pointing right, flower, intertwined hands, three hands pointing left, intertwined hands, flower, three triplets of hands pointing left, flower, another three triplet of hands pointing left, flower, a triplet of hands pointing to the left, flower, three pairs of intertwined hands.

“That doesn’t sound like a pattern to me,” Nico grunted. 

Atienna paced slowly in-between the line of letters. “Perhaps not on its own, but the pattern repeats in every single letter.”

Sefu followed behind her while Nico walked along the bottom of the letters. 

Nico frowned. “No, it doesn’t. The first three hands in the first ‘Y’ are pointing up—wait…”

“It depends on your perspective.” Atienna nodded. “From where I’m standing, the first three hands are pointing left.”

Nico mumbled something under his breath before whipping out a notepad from his belt and flicking it. The paper glowed amber; and when the light dimmed, there was writing on the page.  “I’m guessing this is jogging your memory?”

It sounded rhetorical.

Atienna continued looping around the letters until she neared the very bottom of the ‘Y’. Oh? There appeared to be an extra hand at the bottom of the letter. Curious. Did the creator of this miscalculate?  An extra hand on hand—just half-heartedly added at the end?

Atienna moved to the bottom of the Y and studied the hand there. Knuckles white, fingernails polished, it pointed directly at her. 

Had it… been pointing in that direction before? She was certain it had been pointing in the opposite direction when she’d first glimpsed it. Or had she been mistaken…? 

Atienna paused, half-faint, half-curious, before a sense of un-importance settled her down. Upon looking over her shoulder, she found herself staring down a narrow and short alleyway.  At the end of it was a  that spelled out TREE FESTIVAL in green bubbly letters over a white tree on a yellow background. Above that, white branches could just barely be seen poking out against the blue of the sky.

Atienna indicated the poster. “Would you happen to know when that poster was placed there?”

Nico glanced at it. “Looks like one of the newer posters. I think the council approved that version last Friday, so probably after that.”

“Is there a specific person or party responsible for putting up these posters?”

“A couple of assistants probably,” Nico replied. “This is the Market District so you would probably have to ask a head guidance council officer who’s in charge here about it or a district council member. They can get some info from their assistants for you… or you could ask Araceli’s assistant when he comes around.”

Atienna lifted her head. “Would that assistant be Epsi—I mean… Ambrose?” 

“Yeah.” Nico didn’t elaborate. 

Atienna placed a hand to her chin and made her way under the tape and to the poster. Sefu followed behind her. As she studied the poster carefully, she couldn’t quite find anything quite peculiar about it—aside from a small black stain on the edge that resembled a doorknob.

She blinked.

It was a knob—protruding right from the page.

Palms itching and feeling more curious than bewildered, she slowly, carefully reached out for it, gripped it tight, twisted, pulled. The page opened like a door. Behind it was not the brick of the alleyway wall but a window that looked into a small courtyard dotted with white pillars. 

At the center of that courtyard stood three women. A familiar woman with black hair, a familiar woman with blonde hair, and a woman who was no other color but white.

Atienna froze at the sight of them and tensed further when all three looked in her direction. 

“Atienna?”

Atienna snapped back and found Sefu looking at her with concern. Before she could say anything, she felt a tickle in her throat. She coughed. A petal floated from her mouth. She looked back at the door. But it had returned to being just a poster.

“Are you okay, Atienna?” Sefu pressed.

“I’m fine, Sefu. Are you?”

“I’m fine as long as you are.”

Atienna offered him a smile before she returned back to Nico’s side with him. 

Nico pocketed his notebook and pulled out a folded brown bag as she approached. “Find anything?”

Atienna shook her head.

Nico shrugged and waved the bag. “I brought this just in case so you wouldn’t make a mess of the crime scene, but you look suspiciously okay with everything.”

“I… feel terrible for them,” Atienna drew after a pause. “Their poor families.”

“The dead and the living can’t do much with pity,” Nico said. “What’s that got to do with being ten-four with this whole scenario?”

Oh, he sounded suspecting. 

“I’ve… been around scenes like this one before,” Atienna explained. 

Nico’s brows met then rose. He half-scoffed—or was it a sigh? “You mean in your VNW delusion. Werner told me about it. You being a political advisor—whatever that means. Basically a policy maker—”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that—”

“Didn’t think political advisors would see things like this.” Nico repocketed the bag. “Well, whatever. I don’t care about things that aren’t real.” 

A pair of footsteps resounded behind them. Upon turning, Atienna found Maria, Araceli, Conta, and… Ambrose Campana approaching. Although Atienna was rather curious about Ambrose, she couldn’t help but feel her gaze drawn to Maria instead of him. Maria, of course, was as bright as ever—although, Atienna could easily sense a respectful somberness exuding from her. It was a bit unsettling, but Atienna  supposed it made sense as well. This maturity was one that Atienna had only just begun to see blossoming in the Maria that she knew. 

Maria’s group stopped short just in front of the yellow tape. Nico directed them to join Maria and the others back on the opposite side of the tape with a jerk of his head. Maria’s smile brightened slightly once they crossed over the line. Now that Atienna was closer to them, she noted that Ambrose was staring at her rather befuddled.

Oh?

He was searching her face for something, it seemed. Atienna wondered if she should place him in the same category as Claire and Charite. Or should she place him in the same category as Shion and Elizabeta—

“Hello again, Atienna.”  Maria greeted her. “I am sorry you had to see this.”

‘If you truly were sorry, then you wouldn’t have let it happen in the first place.’ Atienna was certain someone had directed those words to her once before. Or perhaps she had been the one to direct those words to someone else before. Either way seemed more likely than the other.

“Oh, it’s alright, Maria. I understand,” Atienna assuage her quickly before inquiring, “Am I correct in thinking that this invitation is regarding the… books about my experience with VNW that I allegedly wrote?”

“There is no ‘allegedly’, dear Atienna. You did write it. I remember you spoke of it often while you were in the process of writing it. Over good coffee, yes?” Maria turned her attention to hands beyond the tape. “You told me back then that you made six copies of the original made and you wanted to gift them to all of us who had the VNW experience with you, yes?”

Atienna assumed ‘all of us’ referred to the other five. That left one book in question to be given. She recalled the photo Cadence had shown her when she had first arrived here. The seventh person in the photo—Shion Myosotis. 

Of course. Hm. Six and seven. Clearly, numbers of importance. Six of them in their True Conductor circle. Seven books. A mysterious seventh. 

Atienna drew, “Oh? So—”

“I do not think you ever gave any out. Maybe you were planning to give them out during special moments of our lives?” Maria answered her unasked question. “But I think maybe someone got their hands on one of them while you were getting your VNW sorted out, yes? Maybe on your trip outside of Ndoto?”

Outside of Ndoto. There it was again. Apparently, she’d gone on a trip outside of Ndoto even though there was nothing out there. 

Ah. Trouble.

“Did you by chance get to read the stories that I wrote?” Atienna tried first. “Since you were there when I wrote them?” Atienna asked. “Perhaps you were an editor of sorts?”

Maria returned her attention to Atienna and smiled at her, so Atienna already knew the answer. “It is not that I didn’t read it. It is just that I have already lived what was written, yes? It does not make sense for me to revisit it, since—” she tapped her temple “—I have already visited it, yes?”

Of course. How like Maria. The past was always and only behind her.

“You ‘visited’ it, Maria,” Conta interjected, sounding half-hesitant, “but you don’t remember it… right? The VNW episode that the book was about…”

“I do not fully,” Maria confirmed. She eyed the field of hands again. “That was not a good choice of mine. I will not make that mistake again in the future, yes? That would save a lot of trouble and give many people closure much sooner, no?”

Atienna was put rather off balance by Maria’s sling of statements. It wasn’t as if the Maria she knew would never say such things—in fact, Maria had something similar at the peak of her confrontation with Alpha. 

At the thought, Atienna glanced at Maria’s hand. It glinted silver. 

Conta placed a hand on Maria’s shoulder. “It’s okay, Maria. We all make mistakes. We’ll get to the bottom of this.”

Maria patted Conta’s hand back in response. “I do remember this syzygy word being in those books,” she said after a pause. “You mentioned that word quite often as you were writing, no, Atienna?”

Maria hummed and quieted for a moment. “Yes, that is true.”

“What’s the syzygy in the context of your books?” Nico interjected. “You remember?”

‘In the context of your books,’ she’d asked. Atienna wondered if she should feel some sort of way given that they were trivializing their lives and experiences to fiction. Then again, they didn’t think it was real. She supposed their trivialization was better than those who knew it was real and trivialized it regardless.

“The syzygy is… well, I’m not even sure what it is,” Atienna explained. “It’s been described as the end of ‘the cycle.’”

“What sort of cycle?” Araceli asked next.

Ambrose shifted on his feet. Atienna took note.

“I’m sorry, but I’m not entirely sure,” Atienna half-lied. After a pause, she felt a tickle of curiosity, so she asked, “How do we know that this person took inspiration from these books? The word ‘syzygy’ isn’t just limited to my book, so would it be too presumptuous to assume that this is here because of those books?”

Unless the word ‘syzygy’ came into use because of this book she allegedly wrote—but that would be ridiculous. 

“It would not be too presumptuous, dear Atienna, because,” Maria drew, “I remember you talking about a scene like this one time over coffee. You did not go into detail but you did mention—” She gestured to the scene “–something dark like this, yes?”

Hm. Rather… peculiar.

“It’s a bit otherworldly, don’t you think?” Atienna murmured. “Talking of a book that holds a prediction of the future.”

“What are you saying, Atienna?” Maria studied her inquisitively. “That is fiction, no? And this is reality. There is no prediction here. This is just someone taking something that already happened and making it their own so they can hurt others with it.” She glanced back at the hands. “Everything is not as it should be, dear Atienna.” She turned back to Atienna and placed a firm hand on her arm. 

A long pause of silence passed.

“It is not your fault. Please remember that, yes?”

“If I may,” Araceli interjected, “rather than just theorizing and talking about this book, we should be going through the contents of the book itself. We could get some idea of what their next move might be from it.”

“I… don’t have the specific book that I think would contain passages that this killer might have taken inspiration from.” Atienna massaged her knuckles briefly. “My… mother lent the one copy that I know of to an associate named Cvetka Akulova.” 

“Cvetka Akulova.” Maria’s brows rose. “She is… an immigrant who came just this year, no?”

Araceli inclined her head. “Yes, I remember interviewing her.” She glanced at Ambrose. “Isn’t that right?”

Ambrose nodded vigorously. “You have a great memory, Araceli.”

“I’ll have to speak to her guidance officer.” 

Maria turned to Atienna again. “Do you suspect her?”

Atienna suspected Cvetka Akulova of many things. Fraud. Theft. Espionage. Treason. But murder? Cvetka was not someone who would even consider proxy murder. Even that was not enough  distance for her.

Atienna shook her head.

Nico tore out something from the notebook he’d been scribbling on and handed it to Araceli. “Atienna noticed a couple things that I wrote down here.”

Araceli scanned the paper and nodded. “I see. So it’s a message from this murder then. A taunt.”

A shadow passed over head. When Atienna looked up, she found a black bird gliding through the sky.

“I wonder if this message was for us… or if it’s intended for someone else.” Atienna wondered. “Why the word syzygy otherwise?”

“Someone else?” Maria inquired.

“It’s only a wonder.” Atienna shook her head, abandoning the idea. “Can I ask a favor, Maria? I know I’ve asked for many things already…” She glanced at Sefu. “And since you’ve already helped me this much, I’d hate to ask again… but I do want to help here.”

Sefu eyed her silently. 

Maria nodded. “Of course, Atienna! I am very glad you offered to help. What do you need?”

“I would like to bring someone along to help with this investigation. She’s a… new VNW Infectee.”

“Oh? Who?”

“Alice.”

Maria’s brows rose. “Doctor Alice Kingsley? The professor who was just diagnosed with VNW. An ELPIS member, no? She is friends with Jericho?”

Atienna wondered about the last question. “She’s very good at understanding people and why people do the things that they do. Is there any way you can have her status be adjusted so she can help here?”

“Yes, I can do that for you.” Maria nodded. “But are you not already very good at knowing about people? You are the best at it, no? You know everything.”

“I wish I did,” Atienna responded automatically. 

Maria chuckled. “But you do, Atienna.”

“I don’t—”

The world grayed. The mutterings of the guidance officers, the crunch of their boots against the ground, the whistle of the wind—all sound evaporated from the air. Maria’s lips moved, and yet the words that came out from them sounded gargled—

“You do know everything.”

“Lunch time,” Nico’s voice cut through the silence. It was as if the sound of his voice was the key to the gates of noise because as soon as he spoke, the surrounding conversation, the whispers of the breeze—all returned. 

Atienna let out a breath and glanced at Sefu beside her. He was staring at the hands behind the tape with a grimace. 

Nico lifted his wrist watch and tapped it. “Empty stomachs doesn’t do anyone anything good.”

* * *

Nico drove Atienna and Sefu to a small cafe two streets down from the crime scene. It was small and quaint with dull green and orange wallpaper. Several television sets were placed along the wall Maria, Conta, Araceli, and Ambrose were already there at a table working on sandwiches and soup. There were a handful other guidance officers scattered around the dining tables and appeared rather engrossed in their food. Maria handed Atienna familiar card as Nico brought their group to her table. 

“Get yourself something nice, yes?”

“Thank you.” Atienna accepted the card with a smile as Nico headed over to a table in the corner by himself with a brown bag.

It seemed as if Nico had brought his own lunch. His name was written on the bag—the ‘i’ dotted with a heart. It was no secret who made it for him—though Atienna was rather curious about the contents of it. It seemed as if that not-so-mysterious person had also written him a note on a napkin and had cut him ten finger sandwiches in the shape of rabbits.

There was happiness in that sort of solitude, Atienna supposed.

Atienna handed the card Maria had given her to Sefu before noting with faint relief that the table was already full. She sat at an adjacent table by the window where she could see the layout of the entire street and the interior of the cafe. Despite Atienna’s relief, she couldn’t help but feel a pang as Maria continued on with her conversation with Ambrose, Araclei, and Conta.

Sefu returned a moment later with a plastic tray piled with four sandwiches. “I obtained some for you as well, Atienna.”

It seemed that while many things in this place were untrustworthy in Sefu’s eyes, food was not. 

“Thank you, Sefu.”

As Sefu began to devour the food, Atienna found her attention drawn to the row of television sets placed just above the ordering counter. Marionette Engel sat at her usual news desk on the screens and grinned as she said, “Coming up we have a special interview with Policymaker Gilbert Wolff and a member of the ELPIS movement–”

Oh dear. 

“==But before that, let’s cut to a commercial break.”

Atienna froze as her image appeared on the line of screens in place of Marionette. They were standing in front of a small apple tree in the middle of an open grassy field. The sky behind them was blue—though the sun was not in sight. 

“Are you lonely, sad, dissatisfied…?” the Atiennas on the screens inquired, expressions sympathetic. “We can help you with that—”

Atienna felt unnerved, being stared down at by ten projections of herself. The static occasionally  breaking up the moving images only added another level of eeriness. 

“—with our new program—”

“That is not you.”

Atienna’s attention was drawn away to Sefu. He stared daggers up at the screens—

“Can I…. sit here?”

Atienna turned to find Shion Myosotis hovering at their table. She was holding a blue plastic tray topped with a salad in a green plastic bowl and a cup of tea.

“Of course.” Atienna extended her hand as a formality. “Shion Myosotis?”

Shion accepted the gesture with a smile and situated herself at the table before eyeing the empty space in front of Atienna. “Are you not going to eat?”

“I’m just not hungry at the moment,” Atienna assured her. “Sefu is eating my fill.”

Shion’s expression became sympathetic. “It was a lot to take in, I know…” She placed the cup of tea on her tray in front of Atienna. “Here. I—you should at least drink something.”

Sefu squinted at her suspiciously, but Atienna accepted the drink and took a sip. Oh? The spice was just right. In fact, although Atienna could not name the flavors in the tea, it was reminiscent of one of her favorite teas at home. Curious.

A lapse of silence passed. Shion looked as if she wanted to say something but in the end said nothing and began to eat while making some rather peculiar comments on what best went into a salad. Now that Atienna had encountered Shion several times, she got the impression that Shion was rather… simple. Simple in a way similar to the way the Werner here was simple. 

Atienna tried, “Thank you, by the way.”

Shion stared. “…for what?” She eyed the tea cup and chuckled. “Oh, don’t worry about it. I’m not much of a tea drinker.”

Atienna glanced at her tea and chuckled before running her fingers around the lip of the cup. “Oh, yes, of course. Thank you for the tea—but also thank you for helping me earlier. When I first… came to. At the pool. I’m grateful.”

Shion subtly glanced over her shoulder. “Oh, please don’t worry about it. I’m always happy to help. We’re… good friends. I know it must’ve been very confusing.”

“We had VNW together,” Atienna drew slowly, staring into her cup. “Right…?”

Shion offered another small smile that was captured in the reflection of the liquid. “We did.”

Sefu glanced between them. 

“Do you remember anything about our VNW?”

Hesitation was clear in Shion’s body language. “I… I do remember some things. I mean—just a couple things. It’s all very faint and I don’t have a great memory to begin with.”

“Would you mind if I clarified some details you do recall?” Atienna inquired. “To help with the investigation.”

Shion’s brows met before she nodded. Hesitant again.

“In our VNW, we—me, Olive, Cadence, Werner, Maria, Jericho, and you— believed we were all connected—psychologically, emotionally—after having near-death experiences simultaneously. It was a bit difficult in the beginning but we eventually came to understand each other, care for each other, dare I say… consider each other something akin to family.”

Sefu stopped eating his sandwich. 

Shion smiled faintly, though she appeared again hesitant, confused. “Yes… that’s right. Do you… remember that?” She set her salad fork down. “Me being part of the group…?”

“Isn’t that what our VNW episode involved? Who were you in our VNW if not a part of our group?” 

Shion picked up her fork again. “Oh, right. I’m sorry if I confused you. My mind is scattered with the investigation….” 

Atienna set her cup down. “It was different the second time around.” 

Shion froze. “Second time…?”

“Something happened—possibly a confrontation with a saint candidate or perhaps you… took your own life—”

Shion’s eyes widened. She slowly shook her head. 

Ah. There. The answer. 

“—but you died. We almost died too because of that, right…?”

Now, an expression reminiscent of the one Atienna recalled seeing on Yulia’s face as Kovich lay dying beside her on that dark Twin Cities night played across Shion’s face. 

“We survived somehow, disconnected with each other, and later became reconnected with each other—but without you. To us, it was our first time and we went through all the steps again—without you. Am I… right?”

Shion stared at her. 

Ah.

“Is everything alright, Shion?” Atienna asked. “I’m just trying to confirm details… We can talk about something else, if you’d like…?”

“No, it’s alright…” Shion responded faintly, barely in a whisper.  She stared at Atienna for a long, long time, seemingly assessing her, seeming to take her entirety in.  “That is how it happened… in our VNW episode.”

Atienna nodded and then asked, “Do you think VNW episodes are important?”

“What… do you mean…?” Shion continued after the briefest pause. Again, she hesitated. “Do you mean since they’re not… real?”

“Ah, I know someone who once said that things are real as long as you think that they are—though I suppose guidance officers might be against that ideology….” Atienna sensed she was getting off track and recentered herself— “I was referring more to the fact that VNW episodes are forgotten after a person recovers. Someone else I know once said that ‘things that aren’t remembered aren’t important.’”

Shion looked as if she’d been slapped. Atienna did feel a pang of guilt at this but also a sense of victory as she’d just reached a concrete confirmation. She knew she should be feeling something other than this since she’d gotten first-hand confirmation about the events surrounding and the identity of the mysterious seventh—but the wavering line of reality that seemed to form the backbone of Ndoto made it difficult. Or perhaps that was merely an excuse. 

“I… guess that’s up to the person who’s forgotten it to decide…” Shion murmured finally. She chuckled. “I’m not really good with philosophical questions…” She toyed with a piece of salad. “But I think what that person said about things being important even though they’re not technically real to other people… I think that holds merit.”

“A rather interesting mindset to have for a ‘guidance officer’, don’t you think?” Atienna wrapped a hand around the teacup. It was just barely warm. “I’m sorry. I derailed the conversation a bit. Thank you for that.”  

Silence lapsed. It was rather notable given the fact that their table was the only quiet one.

“I hope you’re not too pulled thin, Atienna. I know you’re going through a hard time right now and everything’s confusing, but I promise it’ll get better. If you need any help, just let me know, okay?”

Atienna looked up and found that Shion’s face was full of concern. It was odd to Atienna given the fact that Atienna knew she had spoken rather cruelly to her just a moment before. Perhaps she was just trying to ignore that fact? No—perhaps Shion hadn’t even considered the hidden cruelty in the words Atienna had spoken.  If that were the case then Shion truly was simple.

mbili— marcescent scion

---

Ten forms had been presented to each of them so far—each form rephrasing the twenty questions the previous form had asked. Volker and everyone else he had arrived in Ndoto with were sitting along a long glass table set at the center of a wood walled room. The carpet beneath the table was an obtrusive dark green and the large sofas against the walls were no different.

Volker had tried his best to memorize the details of their route to this glass-decorated building, but amongst the bright and sunny streets dotted with smiling strangers, the great white tree that seemed to cast its light to every corner even from its far distance, the lack of collapsed buildings breathing out smoke had been disorienting. He had put the task aside and began instead to tally and categorize multiple lists of individuals who had been swept into Ndoto.

The first arrivals who had become integrated into this place: Olivier Chance, Cadence Morello, Werner Waltz, Jericho, Francis Foxman, ‘Talib Al-Jarrah’. Potentially: members of Atienna Imamu’s family and those associated with Atienna Imamu. 

All of them were affected by this place.

The second arrivals: Atienna Imamu, Carl Foxman, Gilbert Wolff, Klaus Kleine, Derik Stein, the Sagittarian princess Yuseong Eunji and her guard Felix Jaesong.

Gilbert Wolff had already been affected by this place.

The newest arrivals—in other words, almost everyone who was currently in this room: Volker himself; General Vogel; Martin; ten soldiers from their division including Emilia Bergmann, Wilhelm Fischer, and Friedhelm Heimler. Dunya Kramer and four Aquarian soldiers including Nikita Knovak. Geminian Captain Valentino and five Geminian soldiers. Chevalier Reneé LeBlanc and two Cancerian knights. Ariesian Knight Alexander Charming and three other knights. Generals Arjun Utaretara, Mai Beijixing, Kai Beijixing, and six other Sagittarian clan members including a woman of apparent importance named Jaesong Soha. Then there were those associated with the Twin Cities underground: Allen Foxman, Fortuna Romano. Additionally there were four adolescents who were associated with Maria Gloria-Fernandez. Lastly there were a handful of civilians and was of course the nurse Greta. Arjun and Fortuna were missing. 

Their group was a sizable number but unarmed, unable to wield conductors, unable to work together effectively.

Unknown status: the Espada Andres, Ilunaria Solnaciente²², the younger Twin Cities children and younger Twin Cities residents, several civilians whom they had secured during their summer operation.

Greta had been taken away approximately half an hour after they had arrived in this room. It was not the men and women in brown uniforms that had taken her away, but a secretary-looking man who brought them questionable bite-sized mini cakes and other refreshments in exchange. There had been a confrontation in the moment they had took her but Greta had quelled it and gone without a fight.

It was troublesome. Concurrently troublesome: the length of stay seemed to increase the likelihood of being affected by whatever was affecting people here.

Volker glanced to his left where Martin was seated. Then he glanced to his right at Allen who had yet to fill out any forms. Down the farther end of the table sat his daughter with his granddaughter held gently in her arms. 

“So have we agreed on whether or not we’re dealing with a Manipulator?” Renee proposed above the sound shifting papers. “Of the saint candidate kind? Or a Transmutationist producing some sort of elaborate illusion?”

This was a recurring conversation they’d been having every other hour.

“A mixture of the two seems like what it is on the surface.” Gabrielle tapped her pen on her form across from him. “But that wouldn’t explain how everyone here can conduct without a conductor.”

“Skilled manipulation can only accomplish so much in influencing and changing behavior,” Alice added. “The human mind is complex. Driving someone to do something is one thing. Changing and influencing their beliefs is another. Warping their perception of reality and identity is an entirely different animal.”

“Your armchair psychology,” the Geminian captain Valentino scoffed. “Pseudoscience.”

“Pseudoscience is incompatible with the scientific method and psychology is compatible with it,” Alice stated. She set her pen down. “That being said, have any of you noticed anything peculiar about the people here?”

“Everything and everyone here is ‘peculiar,’” Kramer said.

“A different peculiarity.” Alice glanced at the door. “A peculiarity that’s outside of the differences in personality. The way they respond to certain things—have you noticed anything strange about it? How about any strangeness in the individuals who believe they’ve only been missing for two weeks?” 

The second arrivals?

Allen looked up and frowned at Alice.

“Strange how?” Volker inquired.

Doctor Kingsley regarded him for a moment before she put a hand to her chin. “I have to observe a bit more to be certain, but—”

Laughter rang through the air suddenly as the door in the corner swung open. A ‘guidance officer’, entered the room alongside—

“Giustizia,” Allen muttered.

Tau, the ELPIS Leader. The man was dressed in one of those oversized, patterned suits that every other person in this palace seemed to have taken a liking to. 

Tau and the officer chattered amicably about a game of some kind. Volker had witnessed many alarming peculiarities since arriving at this location, so he was not caught off guard by the out-of-gather interaction. Regardless, it was strange.

The officer eventually patted Tau’s shoulder, wagged a finger, and exited the room. Once the officer was out of sight, Tau’s smile slid from his face and he stormed to their table before slamming his hands down onto it.

The civilians startled, Allen Foxman appeared undisturbed, and the commanding officers ogled him. 

“You lot have given me a damned headache. Your asses are lucky I picked up my phone when Francis and Jericho rang this morning.” He started pacing back and forth.  “I told you all that it was a bad idea to go to the gates. It’s too extreme. We need to approach delivering our message methodically. There’s law and order, and there’s un-law and un-order—and guess which side of the divide you all are going to fall over after this—” He doubled over coughing and pounded his chest. 

Volker personally had only encountered Tau in passing since the Week of Blindness. Even after they formed an uneasy alliance with ELPIS during the new year, Volker had not exchanged many words with the man. However, he knew the man enough to get a grasp of his demeanor and his goals.

Volker realized: even though the ELPIS Leader was affected by whatever was at play here or he was a puppet of whoever was the enemy here, Tau’s personality was quite similar to what Volker recalled. And this contradicted with the differing personality and demeanor Volker had observed in Werner, Cadence, the Ariesian prince, and the other individuals he’d encountered in Ndoto so far. There did not seem to be any sensible pattern to any of it.

Tau jabbed a finger in Gabrielle Law’s direction. “You—who are you?” 

“Gabrielle Law.” Gabrielle extended a hand. “We half-met a couple times here and there—but, looking at your suit, I think I probably remember that more than you do.”

“Oh, you’re the guidance officer…” Vincente cleared his throat and straightened himself. He accepted the gesture and offered a cordial, professional smile. “I’m happy to represent you too.”  “I apologize for my outburst, but it’s been a very, very, very, very stressful morning.”

Volker felt Martin eye him in question, so Volker shook his head to answer the unasked question.

Alice spoke next, “How is it exactly that you’re going to help us?”

Vincente arched an eyebrow at her. After a pause, he said with a half-snap, “I’ll help you by helping you not get locked up in the Small Services District.” He pulled back and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I was hoping for that new VNW-friendly acceptance program to act as your saving graces even though”—he dropped his hand— “but with what you all pulled this weekend, the cards are out. The media is playing it like VNW is what caused us to go out there and make a mess of the gates. The racket you guys caused on the other gates with the fighting makes it look ELPIS is unhinged. Either way, there’s no way in hell we’re going to get them to loosen the restrictions on the gate anytime soon.”

“That’s a lot to digest,” Gabrielle said as Vincente took the time to catch his breath. “Are you sure you—”

“Don’t leave this room.” Vincente interjected. “Don’t shake anyone’s hand. Don’t follow anyone. Don’t open your mouth and yap to anyone. Got it?” 

Valentino opened his mouth, but Gabrielle spoke before he could say anything: “Of course, Tau. Thanks.”

Vincente stared at her. “Tau? My name is Vincente.” He muttered something incomprehensible before he shook his head and exited the room.

Eyes fell on Allen and Valentino. Volker knew there was no point in asking them any questions since they were also evidently caught off guard by Tau’s arrival, so he did not look at them. Instead he looked across the table at his daughter and granddaughter. His daughter offered him a smile—comforting him when he knew he was the one who was supposed to comfort her.

The door creaked open again. Bergmann shot up to a stand, while Vogel and Martin exchanged looks. When Volker turned to see who commanded the attention in the room, he was rather surprised to find Gilbert Wolff entering the room.  He was dressed—normally. A plain blouse and a pair of slacks. 

“Hauptmann Weingartner.” Gilbert saluted as he stopped in front of Volker. “I—er—it’s good to see you, sir.” 

“Gilbert?” Volker tried. “I don’t understand. I was told by Kleine that you were affected by this place.” He stared at Gilbert’s arm. “Your hand…”

Gilbert opened his mouth and then closed it as he stared at someone behind Volker. “Bergmann. You’re alive….”  

Volker heard Bergmann let out a breath as she too stared at Gilbert’s arm. “Oberleutnant Wolff, I—”

“Gilbert,” Volker commanded his attention. “Are you of sound mind?”

Gilbert turned to him and assured, “I’m myself, sir.”

Volker felt relief at this remark beneath all of his confusion—but he also felt a sense of deja vu. An uneasy one.

Renee interjected rather unexpectedly from his corner of the table, “How… did you get back to yourself?”

 Gilbert stared at him for a moment. “It’s a long story.”

“How did you get in here?” Gabrielle tried next. “From what I’ve seen, this place is pretty well-maintained by these guidance officers… which apparently I am. Just like Volker and Alice here are apparently members of ELPIS.”

“In Ndoto, I’m technically a policymaker,” Gilbert explained, “so it gives me a lot of… opportunities.” He shook his head. “The way things are here is… different. I’d like to say that it’s in a bad way, but…”

Volker couldn’t help but feel the sensation of deja vu intensify. Before he could discuss his apprehensions with Martin or Vogel, Vogel was already rounding the table and approaching him.

“What is going on?” Vogel asked, demanded. 

“That’ll take some time to explain, Winfried,” Gilbert said, “but I don’t think we should talk about it here.”

Volker tensed as did Emilia and Martin.

Vogel frowned. “You’ll address me as ‘sir’, Wolff. Has deserting made you forget your place?”

“I’m sorry, sir,” Gilbert amended, “I didn’t mean to be rude. What I’m trying to say is that I can get you all out of here safely and then I’ll explain everything.” He glanced over his shoulder. “I don’t think it would be a good idea to talk about it here.”

“Greta Strauss was taken elsewhere,” Volker said. “I’m concerned about her whereabouts—”

“I know,” Gilbert replied. “Don’t worry, sir. I was able to take care of her with my resources.”

Gabrielle cleared her throat. “We appreciate the help—Gilbert, right? But I feel that, considering we’re out of sorts with everything, we’re all apprehensive of making any big moves right now.” 

“I agree,” Beijixing Mai said with a frown. “First we’re brought to some rundown facility that reeked of beer and grease then a ridiculous mansion and now we’re here. Where else are we going to be dragged?”

“I understand your apprehension,” Gilbert replied, before he shrugged. “But honestly any other place beats being cooped up here, doesn’t it?”

* * *

Gilbert led them out of the room and into a warmly lit hall with walls of glass. Although some of the guidance officers passing through the hall stared at them as they continued down it as a group, none made a move to stop them. 

They were led out into a parkway of some sort and two long, sleek black v-ehicles—rather, ‘vehicles’—pulled up to greet them. The first vehicle’s driver exited and went around to open the door for Gilbert, but Gilbert waved him away and opened the door himself before gesturing Volker inside.

“I would like to be in the same vehicle as my daughter,” Volker said firmly.

“Of course, sir.” Gilbert offered to let him enter the next vehicle with his daughter.

After they all squeezed themselves into the vehicles, the vehicles’ engines rumbled to life and they began their journey to yet another unknown destination, Volker silently watched the scenery pass by the window. He held his granddaughter’s hand and thought that everything here seemed artificial in all of its brightness.  

Eventually, the vehicle rolled to a stop and they were off-boarded directly into a long, cream-colored building. They were ushered into a dark hallway before Volker suddenly found himself being separated from the larger group and his daughter alongside Gabrielle, Alice, and the other high-ranking officers excluding Renee, Kramer, Charming, and Kai.

“I’d like to speak to you all separately,” Gilbert explained when there was protest. “I think the civilians could use some rest. They’ve been through a lot… And so have you.” When the soldiers, knights, and clans members resisted, he assured them— “I just need to speak with the commanding officers.” 

They entered an odd room dyed white with blinding light. Although the walls of the room themselves ended a meter or so above Vokler’s head, the ceiling itself extended far above that. Volker could see metal cross beams and light fixtures that had yet to be switched on. The room was furnished with a single sofa and a long chair right across from it.

“Where is this, Wolff?” Vogel asked. 

“A holdout, sir,” Gilbert informed him. “I was able to use… my resources in this place to get it. We’ll be able to communicate freely here.”

Volker felt his unease grow.

Gilbert sank down into the single-person chair and gestured for them to sit across from him. Gabrielle complied first followed by Alice and then Martin. After some consideration, Volker himself sat too.

Gilbert began to debrief with a summary of his experiences since arriving at Ndoto. He spoke of his confusion and apprehension but also touched on the positives of Ndoto and highlighted some of the positive actions he himself had done when he’d been integrated into this place and acted as a policymaker. Finally, he went on to speak about ELPIS—rather, Ndoto’s version of ELPIS. Suddenly, he asked: “ELPIS—what do you think of them, sir?”

It was the first time in Gilbert’s lengthy debriefing that he had included them in the conversation so there was a minute pause before anyone answered.

Vogel made a face. “They’re terrorists. Nothing else needs to be said. Are they the ones behind this?”

“Thank you for your input, sir.” Gilbert nodded at the man before turning his attention back to Volker. “But, Volker, I’d like to hear what you think of them. In Ndoto, you’re an ELPIS Leader. I just want to confirm your state of mind.”

Volker frowned. “And I yours, Wolff.”

Gabrielle eyed him.

Gilbert continued as if he hadn’t heard, “You’re a member here, Volker. Do you know why they did what they did at the gates?”

Gabrielle arched a brow. “Well, that’s a strange topic to go with.”

“Are they the reason why we’re here?” Mai asked.

“They are the ones behind the explosion at the gates… aren’t they?” Gilbert stared at Volker.

“I’m not associated with the violent sects of ELPIS by any means, so I wouldn’t know,” Volker replied, choosing his words carefully. “You know that, Gilbert.”

“But you worked with them in the past,” Gilbert continued. “With Werner.”

Volker frowned as he felt eyes fall on him. 

From what Volker understood about this place, people who were ‘affected’ by it were put under the belief that their residence in Ndoto was fact and a reality. As a result, they had no knowledge about anything regarding Signum. Clearly Gilbert was aware of the affairs of Signum—up until he went missing. So what exactly was going on here?

“That was because it was necessary at the time,” Volker said quietly. “I’d rather not speak of this now unless it’s pertinent. If you think that ELPIS is behind this—” 

Gilbert interjected, “You think that ELPIS’s actions are unwarranted?”

“What… do you mean?”

“I mean, all of ELPIS’s actions up until today—” Gilbert clasped his hands in front of him “—do you think any of them were justified?”

That sensation of deja vu intensified.

“I just want to know who is sitting in front of me.”

Volker opened and then closed his mouth. “Of course not.”

Gilbert smiled. “I’m happy to hear that.”

Then Volker remembered. He remembered that time in the winter when Cadence Morello, stuck in Werner’s place, had tried to play him and his unit like cards. He recalled that night he’d stood in the Kaiser’s office when the Kaiser had waved his hand and given him a meaningless promotion. In those distinct moments, he had become aware of his existence as a chess piece.

Gilbert rose to a stand and held out his hand to Volker. “I’m relieved to hear we’re on the same page. It’s not the VNWs that’s causing issues but ELPIS, right?”

Volker did not take it. “Gilbert…”

Gilbert retracted his hand. “That’s a first step.”

A rumbling sound suddenly shook through the walls. Volker tensed and looked around in alarm as the walls themselves began to topple down backwards. A bright burst of light from above swallowed the crumbling room as  the rumbling began to sound more and more human. Was that—clapping?

Once Volker’s eyes adjusted to the light, he found that the four walls that had surrounded them were no longer standing. They were flat on the ground and beyond them were seat stands dotted with people dressed in bright clothing. In-between those stands were poles that held up light fixtures and odd lens-nosed devices being manned by men and women in black shirts. Above each stand stood a sign. APPLAUD, the sign blinked in bright red letters. APPLAUD.

And the people applauded.

“And we’re off the air!” someone shouted from the dark as the clapping died down. 

Mai snapped to a stand as she looked around wildly. “What is going on here—”

She was cut off as a figure emerged from the darkness. 

“That was fantastic, Gilbert,” Seamus Dolby said as he approached Gilbert. He was dressed in a floral patterned blouse with a large suit jacket thrown casually over it. In his left hand was a bottle of water, in his right a bright tie, and under his arm a clipboard.

“Seamus?” Gabrielle stared. “How…?”

Seamus turned to her and offered a blinding smile. “Miss Gabrielle Law, you’ve been absolutely fantastic.” He reached out and shook her hand without asking before turning back to Gilbert and handing him the bottle and the tie. “That was a good save, Gilbert. I was worried there for a moment, but people will adore it. Now, we’ve got another interview tomorrow morning that I’d like to prep you a bit more on—”

Volker felt as if he were in a fever dream of some kind.

* * *

“We were played,” Mai said quietly. Although her tone was even, it was easy to tell she was just barely controlling her outrage.

Volker, the other commanders, and the peacekeepers had been ushered into a small waiting room within the building. They had not been informed of the whereabouts of the others that had been separated from and the guidance officer who had left them there had apparently locked the one door without them knowing. 

The room was sparsely furnished. A central long sofa sat at the center of the room. Along the left wall rested a table covered in a green cloth. It was dotted with plates of food. Some croissants, bread, spreads, fruit. Opposite of it on the other wall was one of those ‘television sets.’ Something was playing on the screen: a newsreel of some kind featuring Marionette Engel. In front of it sat a table hosting several newspaper articles. One clipping detailed the recent invention of one Marta John.

Allen had immediately taken a spot at the corner of the couch and was fiddling with a rectangular, slender device that had been sitting on the armrest. He hit one of the nodules on its surface and the image playing on the screen changed to  a scene of animated characters running around in circles.

Mai walked to a corner and crossed her arms. “A Capricornian played us like puppets. I always assumed these sorts of games were Geminian in nature.”

“Don’t point fingers, General Beijxing,” Valentino warned. “We’re adults here.”

“I’m aware,” Mai replied evenly. “That’s why—”

“At least there’s food,” Gabrielle interjected as she walked over to a table at the center of the room. It was covered with a patterned green cloth and dotted with plates of food.  “Sadly, there’s no wine.” 

“I don’t understand.” Martin frowned as he watched Gabrielle. “Gilbert—he sounded as if he knew what was going on in Capricorn—in Signum. Everyone we’ve across since coming here has had no knowledge of what Signum even was—besides a select few.”

Alice sank down on the couch and put a hand to her chin. “It may have to do with how recently he’s been affected by this place. I heard from Atienna Imamu that Gilbert only recently started to become… afflicted by this folie a plusiers. It may be that the more recent the onset of symptoms, the more an individual is able to recall about reality.”

“Gilbert Wolff was never the loyal breed,” Vogel muttered, “given his history of desertion—”

The door to the room suddenly swung open once again. Volker did not think he could be surprised any longer by new arrivals given his experience in the past few hours, but he couldn’t help but take a step back when it was Grand Kaiser Kafke Netzche that stepped into the room.

Not seeming to notice the stares he was receiving, the man casually walked in and fell into place beside Gabrielle at the food table. He scanned the table before shaking his head and swiping an apple from a fruit platter. A moment later he was taking a seat in-between Allen and Alice. He held his hand out to Allen.

“Can I?”

Allen silently handed him the device. The Kaiser accepted it and began to hit the buttons. The television screen changed scenes again and again.

“It’s rude to stare, you know,” the Kaiser muttered.

Vogel asked after a long pause, “Are you—”

“Shut up,” the Kaiser snapped suddenly, holding a hand as he leaned forward towards the television. 

The Kaiser rapidly punched down one of the buttons down and the entire room became flooded with a loud, synthetic string instrument of some kind. Paired with it was a wet drum-like beat that sounded unnatural. The TV screen was dark for a moment before it burst with copper light.

Cadence Morello—Foxman—appeared suddenly there quite literally emerging from a plastic cartoon heart. As she exploded out from it, the entire scene began filled with pink and white paper hearts that fluttered down on her like snowflakes. She was clothed in a bright, lacy white dress but it changed to a short skirt and a blouse with a burst of copper light. As she twirled around the scene she was soon joined by men and women in matching orange outfits. They danced alongside her as she began to sing and move her shoulders to the beat.

Volker couldn’t bring himself to focus on the words being sung due to the sheer ridiculousness of it all.

Allen muttered. “What the hell is this?”

“Her newest music video,” the Kaiser answered. “Now shut up and enjoy.”

The entire musical performance took approximately five minutes. Once the performance ended, the screen dimmed to show an announcer of some kind making comments on the song.

The Kaiser hit the button on the device again repeatedly and the television quieted. He jabbed in the direction of the screen. “Now this—this is music. This is art. Cadence Foxman. The voice of an angel, I tell you. Doesn’t get the recognition she deserves. Apparently she’s the breadwinner in her family and her brothers use her points to invest in their businesses. I swear they’re taking advantage of that angel. Never met the guys but I bet they think they’re hotshots.”

Allen frowned. 

Silence stretched for a moment.

The Kaiser seemed to finally notice the tense atmosphere. He looked around the room. “What the hell? Do I know you? I punched the last person who looked at me like that.” 

“I think from your perspective, we met a night or two ago,” Gabrielle provided. “We had a misunderstanding and then you took us… somewhere kind of interesting.”

“Oh, right. The hippies with VNW.” Kafke looked them up and down before he scoffed. “So what are you doing here? Broadcasting your mumbo jumbo to the rest of the world today? Spreading your VNW?” He made a face. “I hope you didn’t take up any of mine or Cadence’s TV spots.” He turned back to the screen and hit a button on the device again. 

The scene on the screen began displaying a rather familiar setting. A brightly lit room occupied by a small sofa and a long chair. On the sofa sat Gilbert and one of the people on the long chair was Volker himself. Volker felt as if he was having out-of-body experience as he watched himself converse with Gilbert on the screen.

Kafke winced—which was odd to see. “Oh, so you all got Wollfed then.”

“Wolffed?” Volker muttered.

“Yeah, that’s what we call getting the wool pulled over your eyes by Wolff. You shouldn’t feel too bad. It happens to everyone one day. Wolff is surprisingly efficient. It’s good for him but a pain for the rest of us.”  

After a lengthy pause of silence, Martin approached the couch and inquired, “Are you really… Kafke Netzche?” 

Volker could hear him struggle not to add the ‘sir’ at the end.

Kafke shrugged. “That would be me.”

Vogel shook his head.

Alice now studied him rather curiously—as if he was a specimen of some kind, “And you’re… what’s your profession, Mr. Netzche?”

He looked her up and down and smiled—it was rather unnerving to see. “You can just call me Kafke.” He threw his arm out along the back of the sofa, just barely reaching Alice. “I’m not sure if I would call what I do a profession, but I’m a baseball player. I’m sure you’ve heard of me.”

Alice regarded him as did everyone else in the room. “What’s your national origin?”

“What?” Kafke frowned. “I’m a resident immigrant. What do you want me to say?”

“A resident of Ndoto?” Gabrielle inquired.

“In title only.” Kafke leaned back on the sofa as he looked over at her. “You know you’re not really an Ndoto citizen unless you’re actually born here. People don’t say it but they look at you differently.”

Gabrielle arched a brow. “Really? From what I’ve seen and heard, Ndoto’s a utopia. ‘All is fair and equal’. Something or other about achieving your dreams with ample resources too.”

Kafke waved her off. “That’s how they get you. There’s no equal opportunity in achieving your dreams here. I mean, sure, but look at it like this: you come in with an empty glass of water and another person comes in with a glass of water that’s half full. You both get the same amount—but the person who had their glass half full will always have more than you.”

“You mean equality instead of equity.”

Kafke stared. “Don’t know what that means but probably.”

It was bewildering to hear the Kaiser speak like this. More bewildering than it was to witness Werner speak like he did. The irony of their contradictions didn’t escape Volker’s mind. 

Vogel shook his head. “You’re saying that your country should serve you.”

Kafke made a face. “We’re supposed to be serving each other. A mutual relationship. You know you don’t really get it until you’re one of the countrymen and not a politician. You get too wrapped up in your goals and ideas that you end up thinking that you need to get to that goal at any cost and you end up milking the people you’re going at the goal for. That’s what happened to my country.” 

Vogel frowned.

“Your country…?” Volker muttered. 

Kafke shrugged. “But what do I know? Anyways—what’s your story? Besides being wolffed by Wolff. You’re military men, aren’t you? I mean, you think you are.”

“We’re generals,” Martin said.

“Oh. Generals?” Kafke made a face before he snorted and gave an unsettlingly mocking salute. He then leaned forward and craned his neck so he could lock eyes with Volker. He then looked at Vogel and Martin. “And have you been treating my country well?”

Volker froze as his mind again went back to that night he stood in the Kaiser’s cabinet. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Martin pale.

“What did you say…?” Vogel murmured. “Did you say ‘my’ country?”

They had heard it too, Volker realized. However, given the way everyone else in the room was reacting, it seemed as if the three of them were the only ones who had heard it. Too many to be a coincidence, and yet too few to be confirmed as real. 

Kafke arched a brow. “I asked you if you’re treating your imaginary country well. Don’t rope me into your VNW delusion.” After a pause, he asked, “So, what’s up in your countries then?”

“We’re at war,” Mai answered simply.

Kafke’s brows rose and then he swore in Capricornian. “Well, at least it isn’t real.” He stared at Martin for a moment. “Aren’t you Fritz’s dad?”

Martin tensed. 

“What are you doing here? Fritz said he was going to swing by Small Services to pick you up,” Kafke continued. “What are you doing here?”

“We were brought here by Gilbert Wolff,” Volker said after Martin remained silent and the silence had stretched on. “After… we were ‘wolffed’ as you said and we have been finding it difficult to get out. Is it possible for you to… help us escape?”

“What do you mean by ‘help you escape’?” Kafke arched a brow. He dug into his pants pocket and pulled out a slender plastic card. His profile was pictured in the corner of the card and beside that was a slew of text—

 CITIZEN IDENTIFICATION CARD
NAME: Kafke Netzche 
RESIDENCY: Harvest in the Grainery
KM LEVEL: 4
VP: [‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎✦‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎✦‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎✧‎‏‏‎ ✧‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎✧‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎✧‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎]

Kafke indicated the door. “Just swipe yours over there in the slot and you can unlock the door and get out even if your KM-level is only like 2. Technology these days is coming out too fast. It’s hard to keep up. Hard to trust it too.”

Gabrielle leaned forward with interest. “What is that?”

“My ID card.” Kafke frowned. “You should have one. Everyone has one. Helps you get places and get things.”

Gabrielle shrugged. “Well I guess we aren’t getting to places or getting any things because we don’t have that.” 

Kafke made a face  swore again. “Bastards. They must have confiscated yours so they can drag you around. That’s what happens to you when you’re Wolffed.” He rubbed his chin. “Okay, I’ll stick out a leg for you and help you out and get you out of here since my homeboy Werner stuck out a leg for you. But first—”

“Home… boy?” Vogel muttered. 

Kafke pocketed his card and pulled out a familiar plastic carton. He shook the box open and pulled out a cigarette for himself before offering Alice some. When she declined, he turned to Allen who accepted it without a word. He then held out the carton to Martin and Vogel who both exchanged looks. Martin accepted the offer while Vogel refrained. Then, Kafke offered the carton to Volker.

The Kaiser—fake, real, ghost, entity—looked so mundane sitting on that couch, so unlike the staunch man who was guarded by his cabinet of generals during the Week of Blindness. A common foot soldier instead of a commanding officer. It felt almost offensive for Volker to think in such terms even when he knew the true nature of the Kaiser.

Volker hesitantly approached the couch and accepted the cigarette. 

After offering the carton around the room, Kafke reached into his other pocket, pulled out a slender lighter, and lit his cigarette. He moved to light Allen’s, but a hand reached out suddenly and plucked the lit cigarette and the lighter from Kafke’s hands. When Volker turned, he found Gilbert standing an arms length away from him. The door he’d just entered in from was just swinging to a close. 

Gilbert was now dressed in a rather luxurious-looking bright green suit and had gem-stone rings glistening on each finger. Kafke scowled. Gilbert smiled and pointed to the wall behind him. A sign hung there that spelled out in Common— ‘No Smoking.’

“Let’s not make anyone unhappy now,” he said.

* * *

“So when exactly are you going to let us and the people you go and tell us where you took our other lucky friends?” Gabrielle Law asked in a casual tone.

“You’re free to go whenever you’d like,” Gilbert replied with a similar disposition. “I’m not sure why you’re suggesting that I’m doing anything like holding you against your will.”

Volker found himself once again displaced with the other commanders and the peacekeeper. This time they had been escorted to a grand office furnished with odd carpets, odd art pieces on the wall, odd bookcases lining those walls, and an odd desk sitting back along an odd window. A tree was blossoming just outside the window and a stray leaf had become stuck to it on the outside. 

General Beijixing and Valentino had put up some resistance at first as Volker had expected but nothing came of it. It was difficult to fight and resist when one didn’t understand one’s enemy—rather, when one didn’t know who their enemy was.

“Well, we were locked up in that room,” Gabrielle responded. 

“I’m sincerely sorry for that.” Gilbert plucked a pen from his desk. “You were actually supposed to receive updated versions of your identification cards as soon as you arrived at the Small Services District earlier. That is, before they even had you fill out any surveys.” He sighed. “Some people haven’t been doing their jobs.” He reached into his desk and pulled out a stack of manilla folders which he handled to Martin who stood closest to the desk. “There’s one for each of you. Would you be so kind as to hand those out for me, please?”

Martin flipped through the folders before stopping on one. He pulled it out and opened before he froze and stared. After a quiet moment, he handed the packet to Valentino beside him who copied his actions. The pattern went on like that until Volker himself was handed a single file by Mai.

Volker accepted it hesitantly. His name was printed on the envelope, and when he opened it, he found a small plastic card no bigger than his palm. On that card he found a youthful photo of himself and a slew of text that was hard to read beneath the stamp pressed onto which itself read—

[VNW INFECTEE]

“How did you get these pictures?” Valentino muttered in his native tongue.

“You had them taken when you first became Ndoto citizens,” Gilbert replied in Common. “I haven’t heard that word being used in a long time. Unfortunately, as per regulations, your KM-levels will be limited until you recover. Worry not. I’ve already sent for transportation to get you and the others you came with—and yes, that includes your daughter, Volker— home—”

Home? Volker couldn’t even recall what his house looked like. 

Mai looked up from her own card and stared down the man. “You used us as chess pieces.”

Gilbert’s brows rose. “Well, that’s stretching it. However, I think this is a good thing—your remark just now that is. The fact that you’re putting value into what you think I did in the scope of Ndoto means that you’ve begun to accept Ndoto as reality. That’s a really good sign.”

“I haven’t accepted anything. I’m sure the others haven’t either,” Mai replied evenly. “A change in place and setting does not change one’s sense of dignity.”

“Right… Well, in your minds you’re soldiers, aren’t you? And you a peacekeeper? And you… a leader in royalty?” Gilbert asked, not looking at anyone in particular. “Let me put it this way: what better satisfaction can you get than serving as a conduit to improve the lives of your people? That’s what you did for everyone just now—”

“These aren’t our people,” Mai rebutted.

“Of course they are.” Gilbert gestured to himself. “I’m your people.” He gestured to them. “You’re my people.”  He sighed but then smiled right after. “Let me clarify something for you: I just saved you from a long stay at the Small Services District. That’s where they keep people like you—people who are affected by VNW to such an extreme degree. Do you know why we keep them there?”

“If an individual doesn’t believe a place, person is real,” Alice said from where she stood beside Gabrielle, “then that place, person, thing holds no value to  that individual. When something has no value to someone then they feel no sense of responsibility or care for it. That mindset is dangerous.”

Gilbert smiled, clasping his hands beneath his chin. “Exactly. Funnily enough, a person doesn’t need to have VNW to have that careless perspective and be that sort of person. Just like a person who has VNW isn’t always dangerous.” He played with his cringe. “As expected of you, Doctor Kingsley. Even with VNW, you’re still brilliant in your field—though I’m guessing that’s partially because you think yourself as a peacekeeper with an expertise in psychology—”

“How do you know my profession in Signum? Everyone else we’ve spoken to that is a part of this place can’t seem to recall any of Signum’s history.”

“Because I just recently recovered from VNW myself as I’m sure you’ve heard. It’s easier to remember the tidbits of VNW when you’ve just come off of it.”

So that confirmed that theory.

“You don’t find it odd that so many people are having the same sort of delusion all at the same time?”

“It does happen, Miss Kingsley. It’s quite well documented. I’m sure you know what they call it in layman’s terms.”

“A folie à plusieurs. A delusion of many.”  Alice nodded. “But there are predispositions that lead to conditions like this. What predisposition do we have?”

“Exposure to the tree,” Gilbert answered. “Rather—re-exposure.”

“That great white tree we saw on our way here?” Gabrielle asked. She eyed Alice and then Volker. “Yeah, I keep hearing about how that’s the cause of our… ‘condition.’”

The white tree. Volker had heard of something similar at the heart of Virgo. The signs in Virgoan. It was all plain and obvious. Perhaps it was too much so.

“It’s not what you’re thinking,” Gilbert said suddenly.

Alice turned her attention back to Gilbert. “Mr. Wolff, you don’t feel any uncertainty or doubts of your current state even when you recall all the details of your life in Signum which such clarity?” 

Gilbert chuckled. “When you wake up from a long dream, Miss Kingsley, do you question which it is that’s real: where you came from versus where you arrived?”

“Not usually,” Alice finished.

Gilbert cleared his throat, adjusted his tie, and then spun his pen around again in his hand. As he did so, a gunmetal blue light slowly slid over the utensil. Volker tensed at the brightness and he saw the others do the same.

“When you see me do this, what do you think?” Gilbert asked as he rose from his chair. “Well, what do you think besides ‘how is he conducting without a conductor’?” He held it up for them as if he were presenting a novel art piece or historic relic. “What’s the first thing that comes to your mind? The first word?”

Gabrielle rolled her neck. “No offense I’m getting kind of tired of hearing drawn out exposes from people who know more than I do instead of hearing them get straight to the point.”

Gilbert chuckled. “I’m assuming you’re referring to Scorpio? He did like to talk quite a lot, didn’t he? Before that peacekeeper with the glasses and suitcases handled him, at least. It’s a bit weird how Talib Al-Jarrah ended up fitting into that role.” 

Volker eyed the peacekeepers for a moment as did Vogel and Martin.

“The first word that comes to your mind must be ‘weapon’,” Gilbert finally said. “I think that just about sums up how big of a favor I’m doing for you. The world certainly isn’t a terrible place but with your mindset under VNW, under ELPIS’s general mindset, it is.”  He turned to the window behind him and placed the tip of the utensil against its surface. He cut through it like butter, drawing a perfect circle. “I—we—view it as a tool. Not a weapon but a tool.”

Vogel scoffed. “What sort of things would a tool like that be used for?”

Gilbert pressed his palm against the glass and dislodged the circle from the window. As the glass circle  fell forward to the outside, he wiggled his fingers  through the hole and caught the stray leaf that was stuck to the outside. “To connect this world to the next one. A bridge of sorts.”

“An expensive demonstration,” was all Allen said in response. 

“A bridge to what?” Gabrielle asked.

“The world outside of Ndoto and Ndoto’s past, parent, and future, of course.”

tatu— burgeoning weed

---

When Atienna Imamu finally arrived on her home street after her long and grueling day, she took some time to study the exterior architecture of the place she called home. She wondered if every detail was truly the same as she remembered it. 

But—how could it be? The memory of her home that she had in childhood was blurred at the edges in her mind. If this place were real, why was her memory still so blurred at the edges. If it wasn’t, then where did all of these details come from?

Atienna entered her house and took a moment to take in the familiar sights and smells. A pot was boiling the stove and light was seeping in through the blinds. It was quiet. Somehow it felt like this house was occupied and abandoned at the same time.

“Atienna, you’re back. Welcome home.”

Atienna turned to find her mother entering the main room from the hall. 

“Bachiru went out looking for you. I tried to stop him since the guidance officers were flocking him last night. He was worried. Your sisters were too but I sent them to school. Your father is in the backyard.”

“Has Cvetka swung by to return the book yet?”

Her mother shook her head. She went to the stove, turned off the boiling pot, and procured two cups of dawa from the fridge. She sat down on the dining mat and gestured for Atienna to join her. “Come sit. We haven’t spoken. How was your day?”

Atienna regarded her mother for a moment before she joined her. She took a quiet sip of her drink and winced at its sharpness. 

Her mother chuckled. “It’s been a long time since we’ve had a sit down like this with just the two of us.”

“It has, hasn’t it?” Atienna stared into the cup, gazing into the eyes of her reflection. “Was it… worth it?”

Her mother raised her brows. “Was what worth  it? You know I’m not able to read your mind, Atienna.” She took a sip from her own cup without wincing. “By the look of it, my dear daughter, I  doubt my answer would make you happy since you’ve already settled on whether or not whatever it is was worth it.”

“What I perceive is one thing and the reality of things another, don’t you think?” Atienna took another sip but didn’t wince this time. She smiled at the small triumph.

“You never look happy, Atienna.”

Atienna looked up from her reflection at this.

“Before all of this and even now,” her mother said. “You’ve always seemed disinterested and unhappy. You’re always looking for something else. You’re my daughter. I want you to be happy. I want you to be satisfied.”

Atienna looked back down at her reflection. “I wonder what about myself that makes people think that.” She took another sip. “Do you have any clue who’s behind it?”

“Behind that repulsive display? I heard you were starting to look into that. Please be careful.”

Atienna took a long, drawn out sip. By the time she was done, the cup was empty and she could no longer see her reflection. 

moja—presage bloom

---