41
Do you still remember… why you began this journey?
Three months after the death and disappearance of Colonel Tanya von Degurechaff, a highly professional, notably steady-handed junior researcher accidentally dropped a brick-sized ingot of inert magically active, radioactive material during the construction of a prototype dimensional phenomena-inducing device. Kruskos Army Air Corps Testing Lab officially went into lockdown for several weeks, with recovery of both equipment and bodies only possible via mages using protective shells underneath extensive protective gear. It was determined after the fact that five people had been killed from the supernatural explosion, including supervising mage officer Major Vooren Grantz.
As penance for a corrupt World, bereft of respect and love for its Creator. Those Worlds could have no purpose under rule of the Godhead. The Aeons elsewise may declare themselves self-righteous for their isolation, their passivity, their mercy, but I forged the Truth and gave it my Will.
Seven months after the death and disappearance of Colonel Tanya von Degurechaff, three men got into a heated argument with one other man in the middle of a crowded bar. None of the those involved were known for violence or heavy drinking, according to police investigation, yet witnesses report all three showing dangerous levels of aggression toward the fourth man. Eventually, the three men attacked the fourth, and after a brief scuffle, the fourth man was stabbed in the back several times. Despite numerous witnesses to the event, no local authorities were alerted until after Major Rhiner Neumann succumbed to his injuries on the bar floor.
The Worlds exist because of the Aeons. Who are you to admonish me? Who are you to disavow your Maker? The Cycle of Life, Death, and Rebirth does not bow to you. Under my Authority, I am the King of Kings of Kings. I am the I am.
One year, or twelve months after the death and disappearance of Colonel Tanya von Degurechaff, a violent car crash occurred just a block away from Imperial Strategic HQ. No pedestrians were harmed, yet the drivers of both cars, along with their passengers, were killed from either the initial crash or from the resulting flames that engulfed both vehicles. The first car was found to be the property of a well-known semi-professional race driver, lauded for his many victories on the local track. Later investigation determined him as a victim of the crash, alongside his wife, the driver of the taxi he'd crashed into, and the taxi's lone passenger Major Wilibald Koenig.
I am a jealous God. In my Worlds, there are no other Gods beside me. There are no other Authorities in these Worlds, declared as mine, created as mine. This is the Truth, and through the Truth, those Mortals under my purview would learn the natural order. This is the way. Time is yet a displacement alongside Space. In Time, of Free Will, all falls into place.
One year and six months, or eighteen months after the death and disappearance of Colonel Tanya von Degurechaff, a wave of Purple Death swept across Kruskos Army Air Corps Testing Lab. Fortunately, being one of the most advanced scientific testing facilities in the world and owing to great leadership, a lockdown and mask mandate were swiftly imposed, as were experimental treatments not available to the general public for those who had already been inflicted with illness. The vast majority, that is upwards of 99% of those on-base, survived without long-term complications. However, despite all the above, a healthy body, and a strong mana pool to bolster his immune system, Major Matheus Weiss became ill and died after seven days of pained struggle.
My Worlds are reflections of one another. Free Will creates novelties, enacts progress. They can be nudged, and influenced, but never forced. This is the way. Thus, willingly, they will grow, and they will follow. Thus, here, in a new Time and Space, I gave you the power of the Divine. I gave you Miracles. And, according to your Free Will, you defied me at every turn. You spurned the Truth and detested your Father. And you fulfilled your role exquisitely, driving those with whom you share Change into my arms.
One year and eight months after the death and disappearance of Colonel Tanya von Degurechaff, Doctor Adelheid von Schugel was court martialed. Despite many years of evidence showing his absolute loyalty to the Germanian Empire, he was determined to be guilty on eight counts of treasonous activity. His execution by a firing squad was carried out eight days later. A new Head of Experimental Phenomena Development at Kruskos Army Air Corps Testing Lab was appointed soon after, with their contract officially approved by the General of the Military, Hans von Zettour.
I hoped it would come to pass, that you would see the error of your ways. In leading them, you would be led to me. I never intended to punish you. I was angry, and I wanted you to understand your place. Perhaps, eventually, I as well could understand... then, you and another escaped the cage. And I realized I had made a grave mistake. You are a mere Mortal, a reflection of a reflection. But even a mirror image holds some semblance of the Original. Some may be content to allow Mortals free reign, but I am not so foolish. They must be contained. They must follow. They must be made to understand.
Two years and an unimportant number of days since the death and disappearance of Colonel Tanya von Degurechaff.
I am deservedly arrogant. I became trapped in justifiable superiority. And, upon your return, I came to understand the depths of my mistake. It can only be a miracle is you truly do not remember. Mortals are unexceptional in the vast majority. They have no impact on the greater cosmos. But, as an Engine of Change, they may one day become like a star in the night sky, shining bright against the harsh, blank backdrop. And further, if that star continues to develop…
She returned.
...will you still deny me, to the very end?
--
The warehouse is quiet when she slips inside.
Very little work has occurred here over the past couple days. Not since… well, they haven't named the incident yet. The situation is all very "hush hush", for obvious reasons. Orders from above.
"Are you familiar with Pascal's Wager?"
An old memory, returning unbidden but not unexpected. A moment in time, shared between them and no other.
Shall we make a wager, here and now?
She travels near the back wall, trailing away from the back entrance she'd made use of. Alongside her are towers of puffing pipes, slowly cranking gears, interconnected mechanical structures that line the entire warehouse in a circling inward shape. Like a whirlpool of technology, filling three-fourths of the available space of the utterly massive former aircraft hangar.
"It's a philosophical argument from the 17th century, poised by Blaise Pascal."
It's almost a modern-day Babel, though in a different direction. How else would you describe such disruptive machinery, other than as an attempt to supplant God? Or indeed, the opposite.
Her eyes glow a familiar hue. She makes her way through the industrial jungle, the towering engines and pipes and gears, hanging cables and damaged rubber insulation. Until she finds herself near the middle, and in relatively open space. Looking at it.
"If God exists, or if he does not exist, one should live as though he does regardless."
The center of this mechanical monstrosity. That which can reach into the void and return which was once thought lost. A great mechanical universe, defiant and alone and mighty.
Allegedly, that large upright ring in the center can act as a portal. A gateway. She wouldn't find it hard to believe. That structure as a whole is almost… alien, in its level of intricacy and design. As if the hand of some otherworldly thing reached down as inspiration.
"Otherwise, one is gambling with their soul. They risk their very existence in not believing."
Eight triangular pieces of gear-laden metal are attached around the ring on the back and, when folded in and silent as they are now, cover one side of the loop in entirety.
Detached computation cores strapped to panels, basically. Though, connected in one system and angled in such a way to direct energy in a circular, whirlpool-like manner.
These aren't the only computation cores for this device. But they are the most visible and most durable. As such, she glances over them, not touching but still closely observing to ensure they are in good condition. The large dais of yet more metal and pipes atop which the ring stands is waist-level to her. She nearly bumps into it twice just shuffling around to the side of the entire thing.
"Though the argument itself is flawed and not worth acknowledging, I will say, in response…"
There's a glass panel door, currently locked, covering a neat array of switches, mini-levers, and diagnostic meters. A more comprehensive array exists elsewhere in the facility, but given their proximity to the device itself, these are essentially the main controls.
Further, they can act as an override to the other array.
"…I've met the so-called God. And I found him lacking."
Visha unlocks the panel with the key she'd "borrowed" a couple of months before the late Schugel's execution. Her eyes glow a deep cobalt; only she can see in this place.
I still remember, Colonel. We soldiers will take God's place, right?
Her hands move with practiced motions, like her body isn't her own. And soon, practically indecipherable unless one is listening for it, a low hum rumbles underneath the concrete floor.
If only that were true.
--
It's been four days.
In the space between that early morning of a rather uneventful third day and the early morning of this one, her condition took a turn for the worse.
Tanya is tired. Inside the room she is sharing with her former adjutant, she is alone. That means there's no need to pretend right now.
Tired, tired, tired.
There's a heavy vice squeezing tight around what might very well be her brainstem. The top of her head is hot, and she blinks slowly, holding her eyes shut until she sees sparks of blue that aren't from the endless glow in her irises.
She sneezed once the other day, and it triggered a molten nerve in the back of her neck that shot electricity down both her arms. Her various scars, most especially the one over her collarbone, are cold to the touch.
It's true that she can heal the rough edges and irregular seams that exist between her soul and this ill-fitting replica of her actual body. But the energy she is required to use is fundamentally different from the mana this world and its inhabitants operate alongside. Quite simply, every time she heals herself it becomes less effective, as this body's mana circuits slowly burn out.
Healing her brain… she'd contemplated it. Attempted it. Refreshing herself mentally is possible, on a chance, as is the same chance of burning out.
The last thing she wants right now is a coma, or worse, another death.
Given the circumstances, this might be considered odd.
An easy assumption to make based on incomplete information is that she would want to die again, if only to escape this ill-suited body and return to the space the exists between Worlds. From there, you'd imagine she could find her way home.
Home.
Home is Tempest. Home is her house, with its large living room that connects to the kitchen. With two bedrooms on the left and right side respectively, with their futons and attached bathrooms and the porch she likes to sit on and watch the stars from.
Home is Shuna, and home is Mary, and Tanya misses them. She'd love to escape this underworld intact and whole again, with everything to show for it.
But it is only the rare occasion that Tanya will allow feelings to override her reason. Lately, this has come more often, but the point stands. Patience, much as many things, is a practice with which she has great experience.
She sighs, the glow in her eyes flickering. Underneath her bed, the half-completed glyphs carved on the underside of her wooden bedframe flicker on the same frequency. Not done yet, yet still exhausted.
Good.
It is her reason that stays Tanya's hand from anything further.
Let's consider the greater context. Somehow, Being X found her soul drifting in the, for lack of a better descriptor, "space between Worlds".
He had not, however, found her before this point. One might argue that the existence of the space-time anomalies discovered and recorded by her and Souei disproves this thought, and instead points to him knowing where she was already. The next logical conclusion, then, is that he'd simply pointed Schugel and whoever else worked at this facility in her cosmological or dimensional "direction", per se, and provided the inspiration or power to reach her.
This argument relies on two things: one, that Being X did in fact know where she was, and two, that he could not reach her. Whether this is because it is a World not under his influence or because of direct interference from another source, we can't say just yet.
A fair hypothesis, overall.
Either way, it is a fact that he could not reach her, or was otherwise stopped from doing so, whilst she was in the other World. Otherwise, he would have dragged her back much earlier. The evidence for this came straight from Being X himself.
"I suppose, since you were lost for so long, it makes sense. But don't worry. I've found you now."
Lost? That word specifically.
But why, exactly, did he go out of his way to find her? What reason is there? Surely, it's not the end result of a long-simmering grudge? You'd think that after all the trouble he went through to, he'd leave her alone after she'd died the second time. Unless he has truly fallen in with his own sunk-cost fallacy experiment.
Is it pride? The thought that he'd been bested, escaped?
Or, more likely, it has something to do with that term.
"Star."
A celestial body, most often with a great enough gravitational field to influence the universe around it. Put another way, they are some of the smallest objects that have the ability to affect both physical objects and space-time.
It can't be that he's… worried about her? Not as in, he's concerned for her, but rather, he's worried about something about her. A power or quality of some sort that she has.
Which is ridiculous. Never has she been able to do anything to stop or deter him. He does exactly what he likes, and Tanya simply has to work around that to the best of her ability. As great as her desire is to shoot him in the face, it's highly unlikely it will ever occur.
Even at her peak, in the other World, she's far from challenging the Divine.
…perhaps, not as far as to be infinitely away, however.
There's more to it than that. If the separation between Worlds was enough to keep her out of his reach, then perhaps…
Still, at this very moment, Tanya feels a little too fragile for anything else. It's a delicate balance to even maintain her current bedraggled and exhausted state. This body is enough trouble, and adding to that, her plan and backup plan both-
Ah, there we go.
He's watching. That presence is unmistakable.
"Look what has become of you. Ye Mighty, oh how even the legends may falter. After all her years of bluster and defiance, look what beside her remains. A lost soul perpetuating its own torment. Have you admitted to penance just yet?"
How insulting. Have you nothing better to do with your time than waste mine?
"Indeed, I am a busy and jealous god. There are many who require my Authority. There are few who enact it. Have you made a choice? Dear follower, rest your weary head and seek me, for I am the I am. And I am yours who sculpts mountains and carves rivers. And yet, I cannot make even this single paltry human admit their fault and pray for forgiveness."
My answer to you will never change. Don't think this is some tale to be written down and shared in the name of grace. You never had any grace to begin with.
"Your retorts are like stars in the night sky. They carry more weight than you could imagine, and yet, it seems all we can ever do as of late is insult one another. Is simple conversation so foreign to you? Have you truly changed so much in your time away? Little Star, will you not join me in my designs?"
I'm exactly the same as I was when I died, you should know. I wish I could remember this time you claim we were separated, because in my eyes I've been tormented by your presence for years now without respite. Don't you have any hobbies? I heard that "fate" and "destiny" you've talked about are a loom; perhaps you should take up weaving.
"Hm. You're telling the truth, as far as you know it. I do not understand you; you confound me, Tanya. I'd consider it impressive if it weren't so irritating. How can one be so close to the Truth, and so far away at the same time? Is it arrogance? Are you not tired of it?"
The feeling is mutual.
"Undoubtedly. I must commend you on your remarkable commitment to being a nuisance. I'd almost forgotten entirely the reason I'm here right now; your mere presence is like a poison leeching away at my thought process. There is an influence about you that startles me. I shall endeavor sway it."
Perhaps you can do everyone a favor then and die. Have you heard of a whalefall? I'm sure your divine corpse will continue that reincarnation business you're so proud of. Even better if it stops talking entirely. Thought I have my doubts.
"…ungrateful wretch. I look forward to the crumbling of that façade of yours. It won't be long now. What look will you show then? How will your composure stand up to utter despair? I never wanted to hurt you in sending you here, at first, and yet now after all these years, I find myself delighted wondering at the if and when. Goodbye for now. For the time being, I cannot and will not return as you are familiar with. Do make our afternoon's affair an entertaining one, if you please?"
Being X's presence vanishes from her mind.
After a few seconds, Tanya dares to think again.
How does he do it?
It's something she'd wondered for a while now, but how exactly does he come and go as he pleases? What are the mechanics behind it? Knowledge allows for exploitation.
As far as she can tell, there's different "levels" of observation and communication.
For example, the one that just occurred was a simple mind-mind connection. Arguably the least dangerous, it's specifically an exchange of words through thought. The Skill "Thought Communication" is similar enough. But there's also the layering of his presence – or is it his Authority? – alongside it.
More relevant in her eyes, though, is phenomena manipulation.
Or, more accurately, World manipulation.
These include stopping time, creating false images (a certain giant nutcracker comes to mind), and possessing people both alive and dead. He also has shown the ability to bestow "miracles", which Tanya has come to tentatively define as "endowments of divine energy that are themselves able to influence the world in some manner". To put it simply.
The question is, how? It's obviously an application of his energy in some manner. He is, reluctant as she is to admit it, the overseeing "God" of this world. And a few others, it seems.
But what is the structure of that energy? She's obviously not expecting him to calculate the exact 4th dimension mathematics of his own divine phenomena. The answer is likely that he simply wants it to happen, and it does.
That does not, however, mean that the things he does are simply made manifest as they are.
Even if the results are instantaneous, there is an order of events. Even if the order of events goes very simply from "have energy" to "use energy", there is still a process that is occurring.
Tanya knows this, because she's learned to feel it. Comprehending the structure of phenomena is exactly how her Tetra Breaker works. The reason she can protect herself from Being X at all right now is because she felt, and thus comprehended, that aforementioned energy.
It's a simple reasoning. If Being X couldn't find her in a World that isn't under his authority, then shouldn't the same be true on a smaller scale? That is to say, if Tanya is able to reverse engineer that divine energy of his for her own ends, then could she not create her own "authority" that cannot be trespassed upon?
She'd mimicked Spirit Magic using Tetra Breaker after only just learning its structure. If anything, her own repeated exposure to Being X's divine energy should make mimicry of it much, much easier.
The problem, then, is that of this World. At the risk of sounding redundant, the world is the world. That is, it's everything within this plane of existence in this particular patch of overarching cosmos. Furthermore, everything on this plane of existence is effectively under the authority of Being X. The minor exception is humanity and free will, and even that is less of an exception and more of a dismissive allowance from an arrogant overseer.
His ability to get under her skin is disturbing. It's expected, but disturbing.
But, if she can get under his skin, create a gap here where there should be none…
I wonder if Shuna figured it out already.
Tanya clicks her tongue, suppressing the urge to smile.
And as long as he's predictable, she'll be fine. She should be, but still…
It's a wager against someone who outmatches her in almost every way that matters.
This playing the odds, working the long con, it's not exactly favorable. She's not stronger, or faster, nor does she possess any real control.
But then, she's not one to bet without high odds in her favor. Especially when it's her own life on the line. And far be it for her to not make the best use of the cards she's been dealt…
…and, naturally, cheat under the table wherever and whenever possible. In lieu of strength, use deception.
It's not wrong to bet the odds. Not if you know you can win.
Not if you know you will win. In this case, anything greater than a 0% chance, no matter how infinitesimal, might as well be 100%.
Even if your opponent might be a god.
Eat your heart out, Blaise Pascal.
--
Near Noon
Kruskos Army Air Corps Testing Lab
Germanian Empire
There is a tenseness to his form that stems from decades of work. Even now, as he has become, there is yet more work to be done. Authority does not grant respite the way one with untainted naivety might imagine.
His gaze flickers to the familiar landscape rushing past.
It appears different now. That which looks is not the same, either.
The man can hardly remember the last time he'd been here.
Not, that is to say, that it had been a significant period of time. Nor is it that the man's mind or memory has deteriorated to such an extent that he would be unfamiliar with an area directly under his purview and within his interest.
It's merely that the, shall we say, circumstances are quite different.
The familiar rumble of a military vehicle traveling along gravel-laden roads is a background din compared to the humbling array of thoughts and memories he's traipsing through.
There is a certain level of distraction that comes with waiting. Despite himself, the edge of anticipation creeps up the man's shoulders, affecting him in an odd but not unwelcome way.
Tanya would claim, rightfully so, that Being X does not understand humans, or indeed mortal peoples. They are supposedly being made in his image – a necessary falsity, yet such a poignant cornerstone to many a religion – and yet so dreadfully misrepresentative of the actual thing.
Another falsity, that being a mirror image that hardly compares.
In other words, they're all fakes, poor and misaligned substitute images of the true glory of what Was, and Is, and Is To Come.
And yet, he cannot understand them. How?
Such feelings, like this man's anticipation, are vexing. Yet, intriguing.
The military vehicle turns a curve, rocks skittering off the side of the well-traveled, well-maintained backroad. The chill in the air is notable, with the window next to the man half open and trailing the faintest hint of smoke from inside.
The man holds up his cigar between too fingers, not abandoning the lung cancer companion but merely forgetting it for a moment. His head sways with the vehicle's movement.
The driver, an unnamed and unimportant Corporal, chances a nervous glance at him through the rearview mirror.
"We're almost there, sir."
"Hm."
"Why", likely, is a better question. Where does this vexation come from?
Change, and Beginning, and End. It is not the Aeons who represent them best.
It's been a long time since he's felt this was, and it's bemusing all the same.
Perhaps it's just that the current situation, the reasoning behind the visit this time around, far surpassed his previous visits in terms of interest and intrigue. The difference is between a boring, routine glance over the general ongoings of this particular military testing base and a dynamic, dare he say exciting, investigation into matters that have spiraled far beyond the previous two years' norm.
Finally, seems to be the general sense to the air. It's as if everything has, for the last two years, chugged along like a locomotive operated by somewhat inefficient yet experienced crew. Certainly, it's not perfect. Something is clearly missing, some essential component to prime locomotive operation. But at the end of the day, the locomotive still arrives.
That is no longer the case. Whether this change tends to the positive or negative has yet to be determined. Change it has, however. And with change comes that necessity which drives many an individual, organization, or country forward, ever forward: progress.
Finally.
Progress. Often sought, often scorned. Crucial, as well. When plans are made, one expects them to progress. There are few things worse in this man's mind than needless stagnation. It's impossible to reach the top of the Imperial military, with its famously touted meritocracy, without the sort of efficient proactive approach to progression he possesses.
Not even the man's late old friend, the good General von Rudersdorf, could keep up.
At this point, it's hard to believe anyone could. Too much has changed.
No. "He" narrows his eyes. Not enough has changed.
Ah, that makes sense. He almost gets it now. The issue of bemusement is one of Progress, which stems from Change.
Once, this man had believed in another. A protégé, or you might say, a proper replacement. A lone officer so dreadfully talented at her craft, a star in the making, that he suspected quite strongly that she would one day run the entire operation.
And at such a young age, too! If only he could understand her. Perhaps that is why she yet lives.
Not just a prodigy, but a once-in-a-generation, perhaps even once-in-a-millennia talent.
So, if we are to imagine a source of discontent, a reason for anticipation, a source of vexation and bemusement and amusement all the same… yes, putting it all together, it's easy to point at the culprit.
After all, his pet project has one too many things that speak to a… gravity, about her.
That is something they both can agree on.
The "man" in question drags from his cigar once, a deep inhale and smooth exhale. There is no way to tell where it ends and begins. There's not a single distinction to be made in this former reflection.
"Hm… perhaps he was onto something." A silent mutter. Smoke drifts past his lips, from the tip of his cigar, and trails out the open window. The base comes into view.
He takes another pull of tobacco smoke, exhaling once more, then glances out the window. Anticipation builds. His eyes glint, the cool sunlight reflecting off of his golden-glowing irises.
"Vices indeed feel best in the flesh."
--
This afternoon…
Tongue poking out, she forces her will into the intersecting runic circles. Carving the remaining sigils into the parallel beams of wooden framework that is the frame, they flash, and she winces at the difficult to describe prickling sensation that numbs her limbs further.
A deep breath. Tanya pulls herself out from underneath her bed, then gets up just enough to sit on the bed's edge. Nervous energy and growing discomfort distract her, until her leg is bouncing absentmindedly.
Inhale. Exhale.
Tanya hardens her resolve, softly thumping her closed fist atop her knee until the bouncing stops.
Inhale, hold…
It's getting harder to maintain control. She's hardly got any energy to spare for a tentative equilibrium of her current state, much less set up a backup plan. But if deterioration is inevitable, then it only makes sense for her to be prepared anyway.
No matter how much quicker the effort drains her, as is evident in her looks.
The bags under her eyes are as dark as ever, and her left arm buzzes like it'd been asleep. But her eyes flash a familiar blue, somewhat dimmed compared to the day prior. Down but not out.
Not dead yet. Still moving forward.
She stands from her bed in the shared sleeping quarters Visha had brought her to a couple days prior. Not that she'd used it for its intended purpose, given the danger of letting her guard down.
It's dangerous to do so even here. After all, had he not been here earlier that same day?
Looking over at the room's other bed, she can't help her small smile. The sheets are messy, one of the pillows halfway falling off the side, and the bedside stand is unorganized.
She never changes.
It's a comfort, as well as a pain. Visha is still that young woman who stood at her side for years on end, never once thinking to abandon her. Despite giving her many reasons to do so.
Despite abandoning Visha herself, even if she had no control over it. But then, their separation didn't only hurt herself, but them both. The look in Visha's eyes, the tears and joy they shared at seeing one another again. It was abrupt, and unwilling, as if they were taken with no chance of reaching the other worlds apart.
This is not a story with a happy ending. The tragedy is innate, as if the love underneath it. Even if they meet again, it is inevitable how it ends.
And yet, the time they spent apart wasn't enough to change what they were, nor what they are. At one point, they were two halves of the same whole. Sides of a coin, mage and wingman, commander and adjutant. Inseparable.
Which is why Tanya knows that she's being lied to.
But by whom?
As if summoned, the door opens.
"Tanya?"
"Visha." Tanya acknowledges her with a nod, as the other woman enters the room. "Busy morning?"
"Paperwork." Visha says, suppressing her grimace. "It only got worse after you- after the war ended. How does that make any sense?"
It's possible to stretch her sensibilities and take this as insensitive, though Tanya doesn't nor wouldn't. It's obviously meant in a humorous way. However, the fact of the matter is that, as far as they are both supposed to be aware of, Tanya herself never saw the end of the war that so defined their lives. Honestly, she'd have been quite happy doing paperwork for the rest of her life, but it's understandable where her former adjutant comes from.
After all, the lion's share of actual paperwork had once been the responsibility of the Head and Vice Commander.
"Well, it's better than being shot at."
"Sometimes, I think I'd rather take being shot over filling in another stack of forms."
With that reminder and joking reply in one, Visha responds with another of her own. This is the basic level of mutual exchange they have reached in their few days since reunion. That is to say, easy familiarity fills the both of them and allows them to communicate effectively and comfortably. Like stepping into well-worn shoes. Like holding hands among the dark Asphodel.
But at the same time, it's not perfect. It couldn't be, even if they did trust each other as implicitly as once upon a time. Tanya is keeping secrets, and with good reason. Meanwhile, she knows that Visha is also keeping secrets, for a reason or reasons unknown.
Of course, she wouldn't expect them to read each other's minds. From Visha's two years to Tanya's one, so much has happened. Too much to properly convey in one sitting, without much tears and alcohol and divine intervention.
With a tilted head and a quiet "Perhaps", Tanya waves a dismissive hand toward Visha's bed.
"Feel free to get some rest. Not that I have the authority to tell you to do so." She gets up and makes her way to the still open doorway where Visha stands. "You have dark circles under your eyes, you know. I'd recommend a nap." A quiet huff. "Honestly, such a luxury they can afford us these days. The ability to rest when needed is certainly nice."
"Are you going somewhere?" Visha steps aside, but only partially. She yawns, then gives Tanya a curious look. "You have dark circles too. I think you should need to rest before me."
"That's a familiar line. It seems like just a week ago I was being scolded for the very same thing."
She is referring to Shuna, though given how her memories should only acknowledge this World's time, it also cleverly refers to an argument with Visha from shortly before her second death.
Sidling by the other without pause, outside the room Tanya goes. Visha, naturally, steps back out with her and closes the door.
Kruskos Army Air Corps Testing Lab has grown noticeably since Tanya had last seen it.
Honestly, referring to it by that name should be incorrect at this point, but as she'd been given no other title for the updated facility, the original name is how she'll call it in her head.
Regardless, the difference in her memories to the Lab's current stage is negligible for her intended destination. Despite the expanded campus and greater technological implementation across, the bland corridors and grid-planned layout are a mirror to her, admittedly a bit dodgy after all this time, mental map of the innermost – and thus, oldest and most familiar – complex.
There's a certain saying about not changing what already works, which is undoubtedly why the Lab's most notable changes include outward expansion, rather than internal renovation.
Imperial efficiency at its finest.
Certain businesses and corporations in her first life could learn much from such a sentiment. For example, for all she'd heard about "Bluetooth" back then, there'd be little reason for anyone to fully switch over to it. Just because something is "new" or "the future" doesn't mean it should be adopted over older, consistently reliable methods.
Why, there's actually a sort of funny story from that life as a salaryman, when their boss at the time had-
Tanya stops walking rather abruptly.
Had… what?
"Tanya?" Visha says questioningly from beside her, also coming to a stop.
Tanya doesn't respond at first.
I know I have a good memory, even before thaumaturgic and esoteric abilities are involved. But, by now, it was technically over two decades ago, so it makes sense that certain anecdotes and less important moments would fade.
For a second, she spares a grateful thought for the person she once was, as he had led to her becoming the person she is now.
Before, I would have clung to those pieces of my old life in order to maintain some semblance of cohesion between my then-current and past self. Then, this is… is this letting go?
Not that such recognition is some violent upheaval in her character. But it cannot be undersold the fact that the current individual known as Tanya is not exactly Tanya von Degurechaff, just as Tanya von Degurechaff was never exactly that salaryman. That they are the same person in soul is obvious, sharing all the same-then-similar qualities and memories, but just as obvious is the fact that this person has died again and again, and been irrevocably altered by the experience.
"I'm fine." Tanya says the words out loud, and actually means it.
I wonder… if I'm alright with letting go, now.
If there's one thing she's come to realize over the years, it's that change is inevitable. And most often, trying to ignore or deny this fact only worsens the effect, if not eventually, then often incredibly and immediately.
And if there's one thing that's changed her more than anything, it could only be that tantalizing word she'd spent so much of her lives being unwilling to acknowledge or admit, until she had no choice in the matter lest it never be said at all.
Love.
It's waking up and looking forward to the day as a whole, rather than just the end. It's looking in the mirror and actually looking, feeling comfortable in your own body for the first time. It's finding someone you care about and wanting them in a way you'd never wanted anything before, more than food or water or even oxygen, because at least with those three things you can live without them for increasingly short period of time before it kills you.
And, if we wish to connect the "before" with the "now" of this perspective, then it should be stated that repression – in general and of this truth which turns her intentionally blackened and cold heart – and thus ignorance, and thus ultimately stagnation, are all qualities which she cannot stand in others, much less herself.
To stagnate is to die, and she's had enough of that.
If there is love, or was love, it is worth acknowledging.
"…Visha, actually, there is something. I have a question for you."
"What is it?"
"…Where are the others?" And what she really intends to say goes unsaid, for now.
For now is the operative phrase. Originally, she'd been content to allow events to play out semi-passively. That is, for the past few days since arriving here, Tanya had focused on her own plans whilst allowing everything else around her to proceed however it wished.
If she had interfered directly, asked specific questions at the wrong time or visited certain areas too earlier, it would undoubtedly draw the suspicion of Being X.
Looking at the expected actions and reactions of a Tanya von Degurechaff who had spent two years in limbo and then returned with no memories of the time lost, this sort of observational approach is expected. She would naturally wish to reintegrate herself within familiar power structures, as well as learn about the differences between 2 years ago and now. The best way to do so would be to comply, within reason, with the demands and whims of those who'd discovered her.
It just so happens that her former adjutant plays a prominent role in this, fortunately having been stationed on base at the time.
But ascribing such a thing to mere "fortune" is naïve at best. Judging by the facts Tanya had been presented with, she can ascertain enough about this "project" to draw a suitable conclusion.
Visha is not stationed here due to chance, but due to her connection with Tanya.
Similarly, other members of the 203rd were also stationed here in the past. The locker room and their short conversation about Lotte confirm this outright.
There is a good amount more Tanya's come to understand about the situation in this world following her abrupt and rather unintentional departure, but they are less relevant in the current situation.
Though, undoubtedly, she will expand on these thoughts further before the day is out, what with "this afternoon's affair" and all.
"I'm sorry?"
"The others, Visha." If we intend to enact change, then shunting the comfortable status quo is required. In order to make things right, she has to accept that she is letting them go. Such is the inevitable outcome of delving into the underworld and seeking amends.
But it's difficult to make amends with ghosts. Tanya turns to face her, more than a little grateful they share the same eye level now.
"The 203rd was stationed here after my… demise, we'll say. That much is obvious. But right now, the only one I've met is you."
It's right around this time that Visha seems to realize where Tanya's been walking them.
The two of them are completely alone, in the middle of a long and cramped side hallway. Despite never leaving the large building that serves as the personal quarters for mage officers living on base, they'd established themselves in a relatively private area that offered zero nearby corners and easy observation of either end of the hall, in case another officer happened to wander in.
Of course, Tanya's actual intent had been to head to a different building on base, that being one of the warehouses overlooking the testing fields. She'd set up another series of runic circles on a discarded wooden pallet – which she'd then hidden on the nearby warehouse's roof – and wanted to check on it.
But then again, she's no stranger to misunderstandings. And this one might as well be capitalized on, even if the conversation is one she'd intended to have later.
Being X's smug confidence from earlier, however, urged her to move things along. There's sour feeling at the edge of her intuition that's bothering her. Needless to say, the information she's gathered and interpreted so far has not painted the prettiest picture.
Before it can be pointed out, Visha schools her expression.
"Oh, but didn't we discuss this already?" The smile she gives is wonderful, and yet… so generic.
"We didn't. Don't give me half-assed deflections right now." Tanya dissects the attempt right away. "It's understandable to keep quiet, since I haven't asked until now, but I know I taught you better than to act dumb and pretend like I'm not owed a proper answer for once!"
"There's nothing that needs to be said right now." Visha insists, eyes narrowing. Her demeanor shifts, defensive, and there is a worry that she will descend into a depth that Tanya cannot reach. "You taught me enough to know that."
"Then what happens next, Visha? What happens here? What happened here? Should I treat us like we're in the past and order you to tell me?"
"I can't take orders from you anymore, Tanya. You don't have the authority, remember? You haven't been my superior in two years, which you'd know if you hadn't gotten yourself-!!"
And then, perhaps because of stress, the dangerous flood of her own recently acknowledged feelings, the exhaustion even now tugging at her joints and burning down her spine, Tanya just… lets go.
"I do know!" How dare you say that? Don't you know I never meant to come back? Don't you think I always knew I couldn't? "I'm the one who died; I know better than anyone what it's like to lose everything for nothing, to not be around the people you care about because you ended up somewhere else, where you can never go back!"
It takes Visha flinching for Tanya to realize she'd been yelling.
I can't let myself get worked up like this. But I can't stop myself now.
It's unlike her, but we can blame the avalanche that is her current situation piling on top of her. Alongside an unfamiliarity with this new surprising openness with her own emotions, it only makes sense that she's having trouble maintaining her usual level of self-control.
Tanya takes a deep breath and gathers her thoughts.
I didn't mean to say that much. I can't take it back. I wouldn't even if I could.
"Did you mourn me, Visha? Because I mourned you. Even when I ignored it, I was still looking for you. I took up a new student, I took a supervising role, I fell into bed with the first woman that had only the vaguest similarities to you."
"Wha-?" Visha's eyes widen, glimmering and becoming wet.
"I tried every single day to forget that I would never see you, Weiss, Koenig, Neumann, everyone I'd considered friends, partners, my family, ever again, and it worked. It worked for about as long as it took to find someone else and realize that, actually, I did care, and you know what, I really would never get to talk to any of you ever again."
Quietly, the brilliant blue glow in Tanya's eyes grows brighter. As if in resonance, Visha can feel her own mana responding to it… as if, almost, matching the frequency.
"And then, right as I was willing to accept that, too, I ended up back here. And I have a chance to make everything right for once. Don't you get how hard this is for me now? I loved, still love, all of you, and it's literally killing me just to be here. But no matter how bad it gets, I'm here and I'm staying here as long as I can because I need to tell you all the truth. I need to-" Tanya runs out of air and starts coughing, suddenly feeling all the weight of her deteriorating physical condition. "I-"
As abruptly as the fire inside her blazed, so too does warmth envelop her, cutting her off.
"I'm sorry!" Visha pulls Tanya in close, a suffocating hug, as tears stream silently down her cheeks. She sobs. "I didn't mean to say that. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
Tanya hugs her back, desperately. She doesn't know, can't know, if one of them is about to disappear for actually looking and touching. Maybe she's been worried this whole time about it. As if, were she to acknowledge them, they'd both fade into the Underworld. Like neither of them could be allowed to look back and hope.
But you have to look back. You have to know if they're still there, even if that's the end of it.
That's what love means.
"Why are you apologizing?" Tanya mutters exasperated, and a little sad and a little nostalgic all the same.
Visha just hugs her tighter.
"I couldn't mourn you." She admits to Tanya's shoulder. "I always knew you would come back. If anything, I know you. I know, you're not someone who just… dies. Especially not when she's expected to. I couldn't…"
They let the moment sit, understanding that this warmth cannot last. Yet, relishing that warmth all the same, as one loves a dwindling campfire in winter.
"…let you go." Visha finishes the thought with a shiver.
The words hang in the air, whispered as if a curse, or merely the air from a balloon and the end of something greater.
"You have to." Tanya says, and leaves it at that. "Visha… you know about him, don't you? Does he know?"
"…yes. He's…" She can't say it. There's too much to say. They need to… what, exactly? What can they do? What does it matter what she says?
"Tell me what happened. And we can figure out what to do next." A pause. "You still trust me, right?"
A longer pause. Then, Visha squeezes her once, before pulling back enough to look her in the eyes.
"I'll tell you."
Let me tell you how hopeless it all is.
Let me tell you of the pain that is inevitable, past present and future.
Let me tell you about the end he whispered in our ears as soon as he could, and how it cannot be stopped. How he always gets what he wants. How he ruined everything. How he killed them.
How we can't win, because he is-
No. There's always a way.
No. Even if it hurts, you still move forward.
In fact, let me tell you of the end, Visha.
And how there's always a way to win. Even if it's a wager.
As long as the chance isn't zero, I…
---
Known Skills List
Tanya:
<ERROR>
Mary:
Common Skill: Thought Communication
Extra Skill: Magic Sense
Extra Skill: Magic Aura
Extra/Intrinsic Skill: Physical Enhancement
Unique Skill: Ability Severance
Shuna:
Common Skill: Thought Communication
Extra Skill: Danger Sense
Extra Skill: Magic Sense
Extra Skill: Flames of Babylon
Unique Skill: Analyst
Notes:
Worth noting that Tanya and Being X often have different terms for the same things. Though, I'm not really going to go full "lore dump" on the in-canon universe btw, don't worry (maybe in Extra/Deleted). I just think it's cool to pull back the curtain a bit here and there.
"I fell into bed with the first woman that had only the vaguest similarities to you." - Just to be clear, this is technically referring to Treyni, but can be read as Shuna. Up to you really.
Also, welcome to the reveal that is "if Tanya never died against Mary, she and Visha would have gotten together". Shocking, I know. Never could have guessed. Do remember though that this is thoroughly a Tanya/Shuna pairing now.
Expect Tempest and YS perspectives next time, sometime before April is over.
See you then with "Declaration of War".
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone