32 • (B): Right to Repair

“Thank you again, Fritz, for setting this up for us.”

“You don’t have to thank me, dad. It’s no big deal.” Standing alongside his father, Fritz von Spiel surveyed the baseball field and the men dotting it. “The guy who owns the park is a good friend of mine and owes me a favor.”

“This park—it’s the one Kovich, your son, has this ‘baseball practice’ in frequently?”

Fritz nodded, side-glancing at Martin. “You’ve… been to some of them before, remember?”

The cicadas filled in the silence Martin left behind.

Fritz followed Martin’s gaze to the diamond of the field where men and women were lined up in rows and facing Arjun who stood at the home plate. 

“…your chest as the conducting core,” Arjun was saying, “and your veins as the insulation tubes.”

“I’m not sure how the legality of trying to spend VP points when you’re labelled as VNW infectees,” Fritz muttered, “but given my track record, I guess it would be in poor taste for me to comment on it.”

Martin turned to him.

Fritz chucked. “I’m on the straight and narrow now, dad. Having a child sort of forces you to straighten yourself up.”

Martin nodded, not quite looking at him. “It does…” He stared at the large diamond ring on Fritz’s finger. “It’s what your mother always wanted for you.” He shook his head. “I always thought she was too soft. All of that family business would naturally come later with distinguished accomplishments, but… maybe this is what you needed.”

Fritz exchanged a look with Heinrich standing at his other side. Heinrich was busily idly conversing with his father Friedrich Heimler who stood at his right. Volker, on Martin’s own right, stared straight ahead.

Fritz cleared his throat and cuffed Martin’s shoulder. “Sure thing, dad. Anyway, Yulia and Kovich should be here soon with some food and picnic baskets for this… training camp thing.” 

A man and a woman broke off from the group on the field and jogged up to Vogel, Valentino, Kramer, and Mai who stood a ways away. The duo had a short discussion before squeezing in between Fritz and Heimler.

“Smoke break, sir,” the man said to Volker’s inquiring brow.

The woman procured a packet of cigarettes and shook some out for herself and the man.

“Come on, man… Kids play here.” Fritz’s nose crinkled in disgust before something—

Cracked!

—into place in his mind.

Fritz gestured to the cigarette box and held out his hand. The woman exchanged a look with the man before shaking out a cigarette for him. He accepted it, placed it in between his lips, and held the other end out towards the man who lit it with a lighter from his pocket.

Fritz pulled back and took a puff. He shook his head but took another drag. “Now that’s a dreadful taste. But I suppose you can’t expect much from a place like this.”

Martin stiffened. “Fritz…? Have you come to your senses again?”

In the distance, honking and muffled shouts echoed. Dark birds raked across the cloudless sky and the cicadas fell dead silent.

Fritz let out a sigh and a puff of smoke. “If you could call it that. At least I can hear my own thoughts now.”

The quartet of commanders eyed him. Vogel and Mai ordered some of their soldiers including the man and woman who had been smoking to scope out the perimeter and investigate the source of the distant commotion. 

“I wouldn’t go looking too far if I were you,” Fritz advised. 

Some of the soldiers hung back including Knovak. 

“And why is that?” Volker asked quietly as Vogel, Mai, Valentino, and Kramer approached. “Oberst Von Spiel?”

“You call me an oberst while you’re a hauptmann, Volker,” Fritz replied, “so do you really have the authority to be questioning me?”

“He may not but I do,” Vogel said, folding his hands behind his back. He glanced at Martin. “Is this what you meant in your report earlier about his behavior?”

Martin nodded.

Heimler whipped to his son Heinrich but Heinrich just stared at him in confusion.

“What are you?” Vogel asked.

Fritz scoffed.

Vogel’s eyes narrowed. “General von Spiel is under the impression that you occasionally get a hold of yourself and come to believe you are Oberst Fritz von Spiel, not some… civilian. If that’s the case then you should know where respect belongs.”

“I’m dead, is what I am, sir,” Fritz answered. “Rank-and-file hardly applies when you can only be decorated post-mortem.”

Martin grabbed him by the arm. “But you’re standing here, Fritz.”

Fritz’s gaze lowered slightly. “It’s only here that I’m able to stand, father.”

“So you don’t wish to earn penance for your actions as a treasonous coward,” Vogel drew coldly.

Martin stiffened. 

“Coward?” Fritz scoffed again. “Penance? Oh please. I owe you and Capricorn nothing.”

Vogel opened his mouth again but Volker spoke first: “Then why did you offer us advice and information about this place earlier?”

Fritz studied him and took another drag.  “I owe my father and my mother quite a bit for raising me—”

“—poorly, it seems,” Vogel interjected. “With all due respect, Martin.”

Martin frowned.

“—and giving me a childhood without wants and needs unanswered,” Fritz continued, eyes lowering again. 

Martin squeezed his arm.

Fritz gestured around with his cigarette. “This is no place for the non-deluded or the living.”

“What’s going on, Fritz?” Martin asked.

Fritz took another drag and looked up to the sky. “I presume someone has cut a root—”

Everyone tensed.

“—and now things are starting to fall apart. The gardener is no longer watching.” Fritz shook his head. “Gauging by your reactions, it wasn’t one of you. Of course not, it would be stupid to do that because—”

“—we’re still here,” Mai drew. “This place would collapse on us which is why we needed to handle other roots first in the other gardens first.” She cast a glance at Kai and Arjun who now stood beside her. “Someone is acting out of turn—”

Fritz smirked. “No, that’s not it at all. Though that is a valid consideration. But what is the point of going through all that work when the gardener can just create more gardens?”

“What are you suggesting, Fritz?”

“I already told you who to keep an eye out for, father. Those people I mentioned.”

“And how do you know this?” Volker inquired. “Martin said you believed those individuals to be important somehow. What is your logic?”

Fritz stopped puffing. “There’s been others before. Ndoto’s had many faces. It constantly shifts and changes. It makes sense to suspect the ones who never change. I bet they could even point you to where the gardener i—”

“Shut your mouth, Fritz.”

The air became cold, and the crowd around Fritz parted slightly to make way for a thin blonde woman dragging along a pre-adolescent. 

“Kriska,” Knovak drew. When he received questioning looks, he explained, “She a secretary. Back during travels. Zatenminye Caverns. Dead.”

Yulia ignored him and walked right up to Fritz. “I warned you about running your mouth but all you can think about is yourself. Like usual.”

“Think what you want,” Fritz snapped back. “I’m just trying to help my family.”

“And what of me and Kovich?”

Fritz’s eyes narrowed. “What of you two?”

Martin looked between them. 

Vogel tried to interrupt but Yulia spoke over him.

“If this place falls apart, where will we go?” Yulia pressed. “Back to the void? Is that what you want for him?” She pulled the boy in front of her and held him by the shoulders. 

“Don’t be so melodramatic,” Fritz muttered. “As if you can even recall that.” He pointed at his father with his cigarette. “This place is already falling apart and I’m not letting my father get caught up in it—”

Yulia ripped the cigarette out of his hand. “Then find a way to get him out without ruining everything for us. Use your brain.” She threw the cigarette on the ground and stomped it out with her foot. “Or will you fail us again?”

Something cold gripped Fritz’s chest and his vision narrowed. Suddenly, he was standing back in that narrow dark alley of the Twin Cities. Ahead of him stretched more dark and endless alleyway but at the very end of it there was a flickering street lamp. Beneath that light stood—

Fritz snapped back to reality.

The men and women around him were looking around at the surrounding area in confusion.

“Did you see that…?”

“Everything around us just—”

Fritz bristled, ignoring them. “Fail you again?” He jabbed a finger at her chest. “It’s because of you that we ended up like this, you stupid woman.” He jabbed again. “I could’ve had everything but you just had to squeeze your inane plan into my head. You just had to break rank and run off like a little fool just because you wanted to see the bra—”

Yulia slapped his hand away and then slapped him hard across the cheek. 

“You wench!” Fritz seethed, holding his cheek.

“You can run your mouth about me,” Yulia told him calmly, “but do not say anything about him.”

Fritz immediately shut his mouth and looked down. The tightness in his chest lessened.

Kovich looked back up at him before his gaze flitted to Yulia. “Is… Is this because of me?”

Fritz and Yulia exchanged looks. 

“No, it’s not,” Yulia reassured him. 

“Just go down to the baseball field and play, Kovich.” Fritz sighed and waved him off. “We’re having an adult conversation.” 

Kovich looked down at his feet before reluctantly heading down to the baseball field.

“Enough of this domestic dispute,” Vogel said in the silence that followed. He paused, studying Martin and then Fritz. “Oberst von Spiel, for your father, tell us everything you know about the gardener and Ndoto.”

“I’ve already told you everything I know.” Fritz nodded at Yulia. “She knows more than I do. She’s the brilliant negotiator earning us a place in a slice of this ‘paradise’.” 

Yulia’s eyes narrowed. 

“Miss Kriska,” Dunya addressed Yulia with an even tone. “I’ve heard of you and your work and—”

“—my treason,” Yulia finished. “So you know I owe nothing to my country nor to any of you.” 

Thud! 

Heinrich suddenly collapsed. Heimler fell with him, holding him, trying to stir him to no avail. Volker sank to the ground with the two.

“He’s not… breathing,” Heimler whispered.

“What’s going on?” Volker asked calmly. “Oberst von Spiel.”

“Like I explained previously,” Fritz reiterated, “someone managed to get around to a root. Now that it’s cut, everything connected to it dies.” He peered over. “It appears as if Heinrich was one of those things.”

Heimler’s eyes widened as he pulled Heinrich close. “No…”

Fritz looked away. “I wouldn’t get too caught up in the loss, Friedhelm. We’re just echoes. You’ve always been the type to overreact—”

Thud!

Yulia whipped around and then broke out into a mad dash towards the baseball diamond. There was only one person Fritz knew that would make that woman react in such a way. Sure enough, as he followed the way she was headed with his eyes, he spotted a small body collapsed at the center of the diamond.

Just like that night he took his last breath, he felt a strong tug at his chest. Even though he no longer felt that wretched rope tightening around his neck, Yulia’s cry beckoned him forward. Fritz tried fighting against it. 

These two were the reason his life had been uprooted and cut short. The things he had seen through their eyes and the memories he had swallowed down like bitter pills had reminded him of how good it was to be born a Von Spiel. He owed these foreigners nothing—especially now that their connection was near naught, especially since they were all just shadows of their former selves.

Fritz tried fighting against the urge but his feet moved even as his father called him back. By the time he reached Yulia’s side, she had already pulled Kovich’s small, still body into her arms. He stopped behind her, not looking at the boy.

“I thought you said your associate would make sure that we would be the last to go,” Fritz said through gritted teeth, “if anything were to happen.”

“She did,” Yulia whispered, holding Kovich close. 

“You’re as useful as ever then,” Fritz spat as his father and several others joined him from behind, “and your plans are full of holes as always.”

Yulia looked up at him. Her face was contorted with spite but the emotion in her watering eyes was familiarly vulnerable.

Fritz sank down and gently pulled Kovich out from Yulia’s hold. She put up no resistance. In fact, the way she handed Kovich off to him was how they had imagined handing him off to each other once they had escaped Signum.

The boy was light. Too light.

Yulia touched his arm. Even though he could no longer hear her thoughts clearly, he knew the question she asked. 

It annoyed him but he answered, “You’re the one who spoke about our contingency plan, aren’t you?”

“Contingency plan?” Heimler called out from where he still sat cradling his son. With difficulty, he pulled himself away. “You mean: this can be fixed?”

Vogel frowned.

Yulia eyed Fritz but did not incline her head nor shake it.

“It depends on time and significance, Friedhelm,” Fritz answered. “How much time a ‘person’ has been disconnected from a root and how important they are to the gardener.” He glanced over Friedhelm’s shoulder towards the collapsed Heinrich. “Sorry to say that Heinrich probably isn’t quite important enough nor does he have that much time left to—”

“To what?” Volker asked.

Yulia shook her head. “Enough, Fritz.”

What a cold woman.

Yulia eyed Vogel.

Oh. 

It seemed at times she could be sensible.

“The Geminian,” Fritz suggested, turning to her. “The liaison to the Romano Family.”

Yulia shook her head. “He was taken care of and nothing happened. Didn’t you pay attention? He wasn’t one.”

Fritz’s eyes narrowed before something clicked in his head. “Then perhaps…”

They had a silent conversation and reached the same realization before Yulia nodded.

“Well, we’ll be seeing you men off then,” Fritz addressed the men and women gathered around him. He wasn’t rude enough to leave them hanging, after all. “I suggest you all find those people I mentioned that can connect you with the gardener or at least recuperate with the rest of your unit so you’re not outnumbered.”

“Outnumbered by who?” Volker asked.

Always asking the reasonable questions.

“You think you can just leave, oberst?” Vogel interjected, signaling the few men and women who remained to surround them.

All but one obeyed the command. The resistor was a woman.  Ah, Emilia Bergmann. The pretty girl. Yulia had liked her.

“You think you can make us stay?” Fritz scoffed. “You have more problems to worry about.”

The men drew closer.

Martin held up his hand, signaling the men to stop. “I’ll go with him and report my findings, General Vogel.”

Vogel’s eyes narrowed. “Like you did before?”

“I reported my findings then, did I not?”

Vogel relented. 

“Let me come with you too,” Friedhelm urged, grasping Fritz’s arms. “Whatever it is you’re doing, you’re doing it to save your boy, right? Then let me have the chance to save mine.”

The groveling was pathetic.

However, Yulia didn’t shake her head nor nod. 

Olive’s ears had been ringing for the past ten minutes and his heart had already fallen past his stomach fifteen minutes ago.

 It was twenty minutes ago that he had run out to the car that had crashed into a lamp post just outside of the Wibele. It was seventeen minutes ago that, with Alexander’s and Trystan’s help, he had dragged the driver out from his seat. It was fifteen minutes ago that Soha and Trystan had tried to stir the man only for Soha to declare the man dead. Thirteen minutes ago Trystan had performed sloppy chest compressions while shouting for someone to get a guidance officer as a crowd had gathered. Ten minutes ago, Olive had seen it: the tendrils of light spilling out from beneath the deceased man’s eyes and consuming his face just like how they had consumed Trystan’s and Marta’s faces on that cold night.

Grabbing Trystan and Soha by the arm, Olive had shouted for the crowd to back away as he reeled the two back. Only half of the crowd was startled enough by his shout to heed his warning and peel back. The others stared blankly at those who had retreated right before they were pierced through head, chest, legs, arms by thorns of light that burst out from the deceased man’s body.

Now Olive looked back just in time to see the bodies of those who had been impaled melt down and become one with the thing sprouting from the man’s body. 

Soha ripped herself out of Olive’s grip and darted to Eunji. She grabbed the girl by the arm and pulled her back towards the shops. Alexander was at Olive’s side at the same moment and pulled both him and Trystan back as well—however, Olive resisted.

Cries of fear rang in his ears as his mind reeled. The mass of light wasn’t going after the car, the lamp posts, the sidewalk—only the people. ‘Going after’ wasn’t the correct word, was it? ‘Going after’ was a verb attributed to things that had sentience. No, it was more like that viscous glowing substance was reacting to the people only. Whether they were running nor frozen in fear did not matter. 

Higher-level vitae. Elevated. Natural reaction. Lowering energy state. Absorbing, absorbing, asboring—just like how it had happened in Die Haupstadt. 

Olive’s vision blurred for a moment and in his mind he was back in that rainy city.

“D-Did you see that?” Eunji whispered behind him, stirring him from the memory and bringing him back into reality. “The area just now…” 

Right.

The man sprouting branches of light was dead but Trystan could have been saved so he couldn’t make the same mistake again but Trystan was alive here but the man—the mass of elevated vitae—was dead and hurting, killing other people.  

“Get away from it!” Olive shouted, tugging his arm out of Alexander’s grip. He ran to and helped a young woman who had fallen to her feet in her escape a yard away. He reeled her back in and shouted again. “Get away! Back more! More!”

The ones who could did. The ones who couldn’t could possibly be saved, but—

The woman in his arms gripped him tightly and stared deeply into his eyes. “T-Thank you.”

—not without costing the lives of those who’d made it.

The majority.

Olive handed the woman off to Alexander before scanning the area and confirming that most of the pedestrians were far enough from the vicinity.

Fueled by a sense of duty greater than his guilt, Olive threw out his hand and crimson flames sparked at his fingertips. The flames erupted forward and consumed the tree-like being and the ones it had already pierced through. Their eyes bore into him, but, just like before, Olive only quieted the flames when he was certain the tree-like thing was ash.

He stumbled slightly as he lowered his arms but Trystan caught him. Smoke now clouded the air and it made Olive feel nauseous. Or maybe it was the fact that he—once again—had snuffed out someone’s life that instilled nausea in him. 

Instinctively, he reached out through his connection with the others searching for reassurance that he had done what was right.

But there was silence, until—

Suddenly, he was standing in the middle of an open field. Wheat grew up to his chest and swayed in the breeze. The sky above him was cloudless and a deep blue but the sun was nowhere in sight. In the distance, he could see a vaguely familiar tree.

Olive?

Olive turned.

Atienna stood there, looking rather surprised and—oddly enough—both relieved and distraught to see him.

A synchronization, Olive realized as he recognized the fuzzy feeling. Relief flooded through him before confusion as he tried to assess where Atienna actually was while simultaneously trying to pass on everything he’d experienced since they’d last talked to her while also simultaneously trying to logic how and why they were suddenly able to synchronize with one another.

Abruptly, he recalled standing at the center of a dark hallway in a pristine building within the Small Services District. There had been a conducting blade in his hand and he had been aiming it towards the ground with purpose. Someone had cried for him to stop but it had been too late—

Olive felt his stomach tighten as the pieces fit together in his head. “Atienna, you—”

“—Olive.”

Olive found himself back on the street. Trystan and Alexander were shaking him. They had pulled him back toward the shops by Soha and Eunji. He ignored them and tried his hardest to reach out back to Atienna but the unpleasant fuzzy wall stood in his way again.

“It’s just like in Capricorn,” Soha muttered under her breath behind him.

Eunji glanced at her inquiringly.

Olive scanned the road. There were still some pedestrians scattered here and there. A handful of men and women dressed in khaki uniforms directed them away from the area. Guidance officers. Some of them were tending to others who had fainted along the sidewalk. There were quite a few of them.

Fainted?

No.

Olive’s gaze went to the nearest collapsed figure a block away. A woman in an evening gown staring blankly up at the sky. A young girl kneeled beside her and shook her while whimpering.

Olive’s mind raced and he darted to the girl, scooped her up awkwardly in his arms, and pulled her away. He had only taken five steps when he saw sickeningly familiar tendrils sprout from the woman’s body from the corner of his eye. They hurtled towards him—

“Your Highness!” came a shout that wasn’t from Alexander.

—only to be blown upwards by a sudden torrent of wind.

Hand still extended, Eunji locked eyes with him from across the road.

Olive’s heart skipped a beat.

“Close your eyes,” Olive told the girl in his arms.

The girl’s eyes squeezed shut.

Olive grimaced and threw a hand back. A burst of crimson flame later and the woman was ash. The girl in his arms trembled and Olive felt sick.

Alexander was at his side in an instant, taking the girl from his arms.

It wasn’t just a one off occurrence, Olive realized.

His mind went to Lavi and the other five. Then to the others scattered around Ndoto. To the innocent Ndotoans—

“It’s happening to more than just one person,” Olive explained as Alexander led him back to where Soha, Eunji, and Trystan now stood at the entrance of an alleyway. “I think… a root has been cut and now everything here is… falling apart now.”

Soha’s eyes narrowed. “What? How do you know a root has been cut?”

Olive hesitated.

A guidance officer abruptly approached them panting. He offered to take the girl from them in a daze and peered back out the alley. “You should all go to the closest guidance officer precinct. It should be just two streets down on Mbili Street. We’re starting an evacuation.”

Breathless, he departed only a second after. 

“I don’t think gathering in big groups like that is a good idea,” Eunji muttered, “because of everything that just happened. If that…” She swallowed. “…is happening to people because of a root being cut, then we don’t know who will become like that next. Hopefully… not us.”

Olive nodded. “Eunji, you can technically fly, right?”

 “I mean, I can go airborne…” 

“I think…” Olive hesitated, eyeing Soha. “I think you should go and scope the area from a safe distance, gather information,  find the others, and tell them what we know. We should… all meet up at the Wibele.”

“No, it’s too dangerous,” Soha interjected. She dipped her head at Eunji. “And I will not be able to protect you, My Lady.” 

Eunji placed a hand on Soha’s arm before turning to Olive. “Where… do you plan on going?”

“I…” Olive clenched his fists. “I need to look for Lavi and the others and…” 

Atienna.

“Let me help then,” Eunji insisted. “In the skies, I’ll be able to see her better—”

Olive again, hesitated. “Thanks, Eunji, but I don’t think you should approach Lavi right now with everything going on. She’s—”

“My friend too,” Eunji insisted. She looked away. “But I-I understand. I’ll let you know if I come across her…”

Soha stiffened and said something quickly in the language of their clan. Eunji went stiff as well before clenching her fists and shaking her head before meeting Soha’s eyes. Soha dipped her head and nodded.

Eunji turned to him. “Soha isn’t an Air Elementalist so she’ll go with you.”

Olive side-eyed Soha. “Are you sure…?”

Eunji nodded.

“Okay… then we should get back to the Wibele in at most an hour,” Olive said. “And if we can’t meet there if it’s still unsafe…”

“Somewhere isolated…”

“The Foxman mansion?”

Eunji nodded again—

“What is happening!?”

Olive turned. 

Trystan stared back at him, wide-eyed, pale, dazed. “What happened to that man? To that woman? What’s going on? Roots…? Olive, you…”

Killed him.

Olive’s heart started hammering in his stomach. The world spun.

“Olive.”

Olive turned to Eunji who held his gaze. He nodded. She nodded back, reached out to squeeze Soha’s hand, and then took off to the skies. Specks of light twinkled in her wake. 

“Trystan, go home,” Olive murmured. “Go home to your parents. They’ll be worried about you. Go home.”

While you still can. Since you didn’t have a chance last time—

“No, no, I’m coming with you,” Trystan said, brows meeting as if he was also confused by his words. “You’re talking like you’re going to go out there instead of leaving things to guidance officers and you have VNW and you’re not well and—”

“If you open your eyes,” Olive said flatly, “and just take a look out on the street, you can see that I’m a lot more well than a lot of people right now.”

Trystan opened his mouth and then closed it.

“Alexander will take you,” Olive pressed on, “so you get home safely. Just go—”

“No, Olivier,” Trystan’s clear voice cut through as his face again twisted in confusion. “It’s… my duty.”

Lance Corporal Klaus Kleine felt like he was waking up from a dream. One minute he was on campus heading from the Sanaa Arts Building to the Falsafa Building for his evening literature class. The next minute he stopped short wondering why in the world he was going to a literature class. His classmate Anja Lange whom he’d been walking between the classes with stopped as well and looked back at him.

“What is it, Klaus?”

Klaus stared back at her. 

“Klaus?”

He tried to comprehend how Anja could simultaneously be a friend he’d had since his first year at the university but also be a fellow soldier in his division that he barely knew since she’d died in their first deployment together.

Before he could answer her, Anja’s head snapped back and she collapsed to the walkway with a loud thud! 

Klaus froze and then rushed to her side. Her blue eyes were empty and her pupils reflected the cloudless sky. 

“Nico!” Klaus shouted instinctively—not because Nico Fabrizzio was a guidance officer but because Nico Fabrizzio was a medical Conductor.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

Klaus scanned the area. 

Several of the students he’d been walking down the pathway with now lay unmoving on the ground. The others gathered around them whispering in confusion. 

A sniper: this was Klaus’s first thought. 

He immediately ducked low to the ground and was just about to shout for everyone to run for cover when he realized Anja wasn’t bleeding. In fact, now she was beginning to move and twitch. She was alive, he thought. However, as soon as the thought left his mind, spears of light erupted from her stomach.

Klaus barely had the time to roll to the side before they bulleted down in the spot where he once lay. He scrambled to his feet and realized whatever was happening to Anja was happening to everyone else who had collapsed. The students who had been tending to and surrounding them were not as lucky as he’d been: their torsos, heads, and arms stabbed through and their skin melted into what had stabbed them through.

Like what had happened in the capital.

He had to get out of here and report to the hauptmann—no, he needed to find Emilia. Or Alwin. Alwin was here, wasn’t he? Then he was in danger because he wasn’t in the right mind. Wait no, they’d spoken earlier during a lunch break they shared. Alwin had mentioned leaving early to help out with some ELPIS club activity. 

Right. 

Why had he been here instead of reporting in at the Wibele like usual? He couldn’t comprehend why he’d woken up this morning and decided to go to university instead.

Mind racing, Klaus weaved through the panicked and screaming crowd and stormed down the pathway. He looped around buildings, doubled-back whenever he saw someone collapsing ahead of him on his path, dodged people who ran blindly into him while trying to get around him.

He needed a weapon. Something to defend himself with.

A pistol.

Yes, a simple one with minimal parts.

Klaus ducked behind a tree at the corner of the entrance courtyard and pictured all the tiny parts and how they fit together within his mind. It was only after the object took shape within his hand that he realized he had conjured something without a conductor. 

Even though that was impossible. Even though he’d done it as an Ndotoan many times before. No. He wasn’t an Ndotoan. He was a Capricornian.

His heart hammered in his ears as he stared at the cold object now resting in his palm. He gripped the handle of the weapon and moved his finger towards the trigger as his head pounded.

What had he been doing before that switch had been flipped inside his head? 

He’d been meeting with someone, hadn’t he? Or was it a… something?

A screech pulled him out from his thoughts. A familiar screech. One he hadn’t heard since he’d been a young boy swinging on a haphazardly made swingset alongside his fellow outcasted schoolmates. 

Klaus peered around the tree and scanned the courtyard. There. Just a few meters away from the billboard at the campus center. A young woman was propped up on her back and crawling away from a backpack-wearing young man stumbling towards her. Klaus squinted at the two before a chill crawled up his spine.

The left-side of the young man’s face was melting into that viscous glowing substance and his eyeballs were beginning to spill from his caving eye sockets. Branch-like tendrils of light were blossoming out from his head—no, they were forcing, cracking their way out from his skull.

It was the first time Klaus had seen somehow being affected by whatever this was up and walking.

The young woman continued to scramble back. Her short black hair was plastered wildly across her panicked face—

“Charite!” Klaus realized. 

He gripped his pistol tightly. He doubted that he could do much damage with this thing. If the hauptmann were here he would probably order him to prioritize his own safety and mission first. But this was Charite and the vitae bloom that was growing on this man seemed different than the others he’d seen, so maybe—

No time to analyze further.

Klaus aimed his pistol and shouted— “Run, Charite!”

Charite turned to him.

Then he fired and Charite ran.

Bang!

The bullet caught the man at his side temple. But there was no spray of blood. No, instead branches of light exploded out from the man’s head. Several of those branches caught unfortunate nearby students who had been staring and gawking—

—but Charite managed to roll away and dodge the tendril hurling at her. She lunged for the bulletin board beside her and gripped its leg with her hand. It immediately became coated with a soft lilac light. She scrambled to her feet and flicked her hand backwards, sending the bulletin board hurtling towards the creature. 

“Klaus!” Charite called out, running to him with an extended hand. 

She was reaching out for him, Klaus realized, even though she had rejected his own extended hand on that night  in the Twin Cities.  

Klaus ran for her, hand also extended.

They locked hands. 

“We need to get out of here,” Klaus urged her as they ran together towards the arch of the campus’s main entrance. “We—”

His words caught in his throat for a moment as he spotted plumes of smoke rising from beyond the campus arches.  They passed beneath the arch and stopped short together. There were several abandoned vehicles scattered on the open road but there were no people in sight. Sirens blared in the distance. 

Klaus stammered, “I… I know this won’t make any sense and you’ll say it’s VNW but we’ll be safe if we can find my military division—”

“No, I have to get to Francis and Cadence,” Charite interjected, “before she comes! I know she’ll come. She’ll be able to slip through now—” 

“Before… who comes?” Klaus stared at her.

Charite stiffened.

“Slip through?” Klaus pressed on as the gears turned in his head. “Are you… talking about the roots, Charite?” Realization dawned. “Do you… know what’s going on?”

Charite squeezed his hand and looked down. “Klaus…”

“Just…” He grimaced. Obviously she was more important to him than he was to her, but still. “Do you remember who the headmaster in our school in Buchstadt was when we graduated…?”

Charite looked up and put a finger to her lips that just barely moved. Heike Winkler.

Klaus’s ears rang.

But still, he thought. “We should stick together for now, I think… if that’s alright with you.”

Charite nodded.

Bachiru did not let his gaze leave Sefu’s form. The man was bound to a hospital bed, but Bachiru could still not let his guard down. Safiyah and his two younger siblings were in this room with them too, after all. 

“So what the fuck?” the Capricornian snapped. 

Bachiru grimaced and glanced at Kichea and Kamaria who were seated beside him.

Safiyah frowned and covered Kichea’s ears. “It seems your time away hasn’t done much for that mouth of yours. Can’t you see that there are children here, Mr. Derik Stein?”

“Can’t you see I don’t give a damn?” Derik snapped back. He jerked his chin at Bachiru. “When the hell is your sister coming here?”

“And I’ll ask again,” Bachiru returned calmly, “what business do you have with my sister?”

Derik sneered. “And I’ll tell you again that if she didn’t say anything to you, then it’s none of your damned business.”

The Cancerian turned away from the window he’d been standing by and sighed. “If you must know, Monsieur Stein here and your sister had planned to go visit the Small Services District to investigate a potential root there.”

Bachiru frowned and shared a glance with Safiyah.

“Now, have you seen, Miss Imamu?” the Cancerian continued.

“No,” Safiyah answered, “she just told us to meet Sefu here.”

Sefu looked up at this.

Derik scowled. “Fucking seriously, Renee—”

Sirens began to blare from the hallway. 

Derik and Renee exchanged looks. Renee nodded and Derik approached the hospital door. It opened before he managed to wrap his hand around the door knob. The man made a face and took a step back as Atienna and Nia entered the room together. Sefu shot up immediately and swung his legs off the bed while Renee unfurled from the window. Safiyah immediately approached the duo.

Bachiru, however, remained glued to the spot. Kamaria and Kichea stood and stopped short beside him. Kamaria reached for his hand. He grasped it. Her palm was sweaty.

The red flashing lights from the hall twisted strange shadows across his elder sister’s face. However, it was not just the flashing lights that made his sister’s face strange. It was the fact that her hair was longer now, the warmth in her eyes was different, the glint in her eyes was different. Then there was the green raincoat draped over her shoulders.

“Atienna,” Safiyah drew as she neared Atienna, “what is going on—”

Bachiru grabbed Safiyah by the wrist with his free hand.

Safiyah looked back at him in confusion.

Atienna smiled lightly.

“That is an interesting coat you have there, Atienna,” Renee drew, “as well as an interesting companion. Might I ask where you picked up both from?”

Derik jabbed a finger at Nia. “You’re the bitch from the university.”

Atienna lifted her hands, sending droplets of water from her coat onto the ground.

There hadn’t been any rain, had there?

Atienna turned to Bachiru and smiled again. “Ah, I can answer any and all questions you have, but it looks like you have the most pressing question to ask, Bachiru.”

Bachiru realized he’d been mistaken. He’d thought that the glint in his sister’s eyes looked different than he remembered when in reality that glint in those eyes was nowhere to be seen. 

“Who are you?” Bachiru found himself asking.

If his sister had found that question strange, she did not act so. She merely chuckled, hiding her laugh behind her hand like usual despite the circumstance, and answered, “I’m Atienna Imamu, your sister.” She gestured to herself before lowering her hand. “Ah, but you’re asking that question in the context that I think you’re asking then—no, I’m not the Atienna you’ve been interacting with most this entire time.”

Bachiru’s stomach tightened.

Derik took a step back. He grabbed a glass of water that was on the table at Sefu’s bedside, smashed it, and brandished a shard. “You’re the fucking doppelganger they’ve been talking about.”

Nia stepped in front of Atienna, but Atienna remained calm.

Sefu stumbled out of the bed. “The fake…”

“That’s quite a peculiar accusation, don’t you think?” Atienna drew, “I’m not the doppelganger nor the fake—at least not in the sense you’re talking about.”

“The hell is that supposed to mean?” Derik brandished his makeshift weapon. “You just said you weren’t Atienna and then you come strolling in here with the spear bitch.”

“Let’s not be rash,” Renee interjected. He gestured politely to Atienna. “Please continue.”

“As you know, there are a few ‘gardens’ out there besides the one in Ndoto. I happen to be from one of them,” Atienna explained. 

Safiyah finally took a step back.

Atienna offered her a look of understanding. “Ah, it is quite a thing to imagine—the idea that there’s potentially other versions of you wandering out there.”

Sefu stumbled forward more, this time stepping in front of Bachiru, his siblings, and Safiyah. He threw his hand out and stared daggers into Atienna.

Atienna averted her gaze but remained smiling. 

Renee hummed. “While that is rather unnerving, I’m more curious about your intentions given our unceremonious meeting the other night. I worry about grudges.”

Atienna smiled. “Ah, there’s no need to worry about that and I do apologize for the misunderstanding. I’m searching for roots, you see, since I’ve already taken care of the garden that I’ve come from.”

There was a beat of silence.

“Where… is Atienna?” Safiyah asked quietly, visibly tense. She studied Atienna for a moment. “The Atienna we… the one we know. Do you know…?”

Atienna lowered her eyes briefly. “She’s already gone to the Small Services District and cut the root that’s there.” She glanced over her shoulder. “I assume everything that’s unfolding now is a result of that. Ndoto is beginning to give way…”

 The sirens continued to scream.

Derik motioned Atienna and Nia to the side with his makeshift weapon. The two complied and the man made his way to the door.

Renee startled. “Derik! What are you doing?”

Derik stopped at the threshold. “I’m beating it. I was only here because we were supposed to get that root together. No point in me staying now. I don’t even know any of you.”

Renee sighed. “Where are you going?”

Derik peered out the room and down the hall. Bachiru could see nurses and doctors rushing back and forth there.

“She just said shit is hitting the fan because Atienna cut the root, right?” He paused and muttered, “Got to see if the brat is okay.” He departed without saying much else.

Atienna didn’t appear bothered by his departure and turned to Renee. “And you, Renee? I’m surprised to see you here of all places.”

“And why is that?”

“Ah, well, we didn’t leave off on the best foot, did we?” Atienna murmured. “And it doesn’t look like our relationship has improved much either.”

Renee smiled thinly. “I was working together with the other Atienna, was I not?”

Atienna chuckled lightly as if some sort of joke had been told before clasping her hands in front of her. “And what about now?”

Renee glanced at Bachiru and then the others in the room.

Atienna hummed. “Ah, I see… You’re very noble, Renee, but I assure you that you are more likely to hurt my family than I am.”

Kamaria squeezed Bachiru’s hand. 

Bachiru squeezed back.

Renee asked lightly, “Might I ask why you’ve come here then?”

“To see my family,” Atienna answered simply. “And the people I care for.” 

Sefu stiffened at this.

“To make sure they’re safe. To take them somewhere safe until this is over. ”

There was a beat of silence.

It squeezed Bachiru’s stomach.

“Why didn’t you come before then?” Bachiru asked.

Atienna looked at him, appearing mildly surprised. “Because the other Atienna was here.”

“What?” Safiyah recoiled. “Atienn—” She hesitated.  “None of this is making any sense. You—I—” She looked Atienna up and down. “Why are you so calm about this?” Her lips drew thin. “Oh, I know you are Atienna, alright, because you are revealing nothing again while expecting us to blindly follow you—”

“I’ve missed you, Safiyah,” Atienna said. “You as well, Sefu.” 

Sefu tensed.

Atienna’s gaze lingered on Bachiru, Kamaria, Kichea. “And of course I’ve missed you three.”

Bachiru could not tell if there was any earnestness in her words and that terrified him and worried him. 

Atienna—this one, the one who had told him to come here, the one he knew was his sister. What was she going through? What had happened to her? What could he do about it? Did she want him to do anything about it? Did she even need his help?

“You…” Sefu studied her, scanning her face then her body. His eyes widened. “You are not the fake… But… How?”

Atienna’s brows met curiously before they rose. “Ah, so there was another one.” She didn’t elaborate any further and instead gestured out the hall. “We should leave soon. This place isn’t safe anymore.”

“Where do you plan on taking them?” Renee asked lightly.

“Not ‘where’ but ‘who’,” Atienna responded lightly. “Ah, that’s right. You have met her before haven’t you, Renee? Through Hilton? Libra, that is.”

The breeze weaved its fingers through the golden fields of wheat. The sky, an unbelievable solid blue, seemed like a lid above Atienna’s head—sealing her in this field. Ironically oppressive for something cited in literature as freeing. 

Perhaps the oppressive atmosphere was due to the fact there was no sun at all in the sky. Or perhaps it was because of the expression that had been on Olive’s face just a minute ago when he had synchronized in with her for the first time in a long time.

It appeared as if cutting the root had led to a rather peculiar reaction in some of the Ndotoans. She had planned for something unexpected to happen which was why she had sent Safiyah and her siblings to Sefu, Renee, and Derik. Olive had Alexander and Eunji’s bodyguards at his aide, so she hadn’t been too concerned about anything terrible befalling him.

Now, however—

Atienna clenched her fists tight, tight, tight until she felt something wet beneath her fingertips. She let out a breath and put a hand to her mouth. 

How troublesome. What was also troublesome—and rather curious—was identifying where exactly she’d found herself.

Only a moment ago she’d been in that facility in the Small Services District. The proto-conducting blade had been in her hand and she had been driving into the tiles as Shion had cried her name. Now she stood here in this field empty-handed.

Perhaps this was another garden?

An unexpected destination.

Her plan had been to observe the results of cutting a root, confirm the safety of those she cared for, and then proceed with doing away with other roots with the new knowledge she’d have gained from observation. However, things never went as planned, did they?

Best to proceed with caution.

Atienna eyed the tree in the distance before beginning her quiet trek towards it. As she walked forward, the wheat grew taller and taller until it was almost above her eyeline. A bit worrisome. After a kilometer or so,  she broke into a small circular clearing. A small figure, back facing her, sat crouched at the center of the clearing. A child in a patterned dress. Perhaps a girl.

Atienna let out a breath.

The small figure slowly looked over their shoulder.

Atienna stiffened.

The child’s face was not a face. No, it was a bouquet of flowers. Camellias. Red, white, and yellow. Its petals rattled as a soft voice whispered out— “Do you want to see my dolls?” It turned forward again as if not expecting an answer.

Curious.

Keeping to the edges of the open field, Atienna walked forward cautiously while keeping her eyes trained on the flower child. The flower child was playing with dolls, she realized. They were all piled up in front of the child rather haphazardly. The dolls appeared to be modeled the same with all featuring button eyes, mouths drawn in straight lines,  heart-shaped patches sewn onto their chests, stubby arms, stubby legs. Several dolls came paired with unique accessories like purses, hats, crowns. Some had hair and others didn’t.

The girl picked up a doll from the top of the pile. 

The doll had a crown sewn to the top of its head—which the girl promptly ripped off and tossed to the side. The child then made the doll dance around before she shook its head with slumped shoulders. After some apparent pondering, the child proceeded to rip the heart-shaped patch off of the doll’s chest, exposing white stuffing. She reached into her dress pocket and pulled out a sewing kit before going to work with surprisingly nimble fingers to sew the gaping hole up. Once the work was done, the child nodded as if pleased and placed the doll gingerly to their side.

The second doll the child picked up from the pile had a rather large hat on its head. This one, unlike most of the others, was smiling. The girl held up the doll to the light before again shaking her head, sending petals scattering onto the ground. She then proceeded to effortlessly tear the doll’s arms off and sew up the damage done. Next she robbed other dolls of their accessories: necklaces, clothes, hats, earrings, jewelry, and so on, and expertly adorned the now armless with them. Again, the child nodded as if pleased and set the doll beside the other one.

The third doll wielded a cardboard pistol which the flower girl promptly ripped away and cast aside. The change did not appear to satisfy the girl as she again shook her head. After some pondering, the girl curled her fingers around the heart-patch on the doll’s chest but she hesitated. Then, she pulled her hand away and instead ripped the doll’s head off. She rifled through the pile of dolls before pulling out one that had a smile sewn onto its face. She ripped the head off of this one and surgically sewed the smiling head onto the initial doll.

The fourth doll wielded a sword which the girl did not remove. Instead the girl squeezed the doll into an ill-fitting suit she’d stolen from another doll. She made no other changes, but she did not nod her head pleased as she did all those other times before. No, she merely quietly and gingerly set the doll beside the other three.

The fifth doll the girl observed carefully before simply sewing over its button eyes. Gingerly, she set this one not beside the other four but in front of them.

The sixth doll plucked from the pile did not receive any modifications. 

Still holding the doll carefully in her hands, the flower-faced girl rose to a stand and took one, two, steps forward—aproaching Atienna.

Atienna tensed, gripping her fists, shifting her legs so she could strike or run if necessary. As the girl drew nearer and nearer, Atienna realized the flowers blooming from the girl’s head were going through a constant cycle of wilting and blooming. 

The petals on the girl’s face rattled as she stopped short a meter away.

Atienna said nothing, merely observing.

The girl abruptly raised both her hands. The sewing kit was in her left and the doll in her right. 

Atienna pondered for a moment before taking the sewing kit. 

The girl pulled the doll into a hug and skipped back to her spot at the center of the clearing. 

Atienna let out a breath. 

“You could take my advice with a grain of salt if you would like,” came a silky voice whispered, “but I wouldn’t spend too much time here if I were you.”

Atienna tensed and whipped around.

A shadow moved in the tall wheat grass. A sinewy figure with pale skin and obsidian eyes.

Shion…?

No.

Cvetka Akulova, holding a doll loosely in her hand.