Despite how far apart we were, I was certain she heard me.
This street was quiet. The kind of quiet that clung to your skin and made your own breath sound intrusive. The loud tone I'd spoken in echoed out into that quiet with a resounding boom.
But she didn't give me a reply.
As I peered back toward where I'd just come from, I expected some sort of retort or sharp remark.
But no such remark came. Instead, the surging quiet came back like a thick fog falling onto a desolate valley.
I started walking back to where I'd left her, my footsteps dull against the concrete. Each step gave me time—too much time—to think. I tried to gather myself, to smooth over the frayed edge of my last words.
I wasn't mad at her. Not really. Not even frustrated. If anything, I wish I could be mad—anger would've given me direction. It would've been clean, simple. But instead, I was tangled up in something worse.
Panic.
A cold, creeping dread that kept whispering that I was out of my depth, that I didn't understand this world, that everything was spiraling, and I didn't have the tools to stop it. Like I was trying to catch falling glass with my bare hands.
And the Empress didn't even seem to be the least bit phased by any of the terror that our current situation should impose. Like this was somehow a casual event that didn't warrant panic.
And maybe that was what scared me the most.
Because if this wasn't out of the ordinary for her… if this level of horror was just another Tuesday in her world... then what did that say about where I'd ended up? What did that imply about the woman I was standing next to?
I wanted to ask her more. I wanted to scream and demand answers. I wanted her to break the silence, but that didn't seem likely.
In the end, I can only come to one conclusion.
Right now, I was trapped not only on this strange street but also in a high-stakes game between two devastating players.
One of which was right here next to me.
It was only once I re-entered the modest home through the screen door that I spoke again, quieter now, more for me than her.
"That's..."
I held the bridge of my nose, my breath catching in the back of my throat for an instant.
"...not what I meant. I mean, you're so... certain? Does none of this come as a shock or surprise?"
I stepped back onto the street and glanced up toward the red-haired beauty.
Cacophony gave me a sidelong glance. "You give me too much credit. I wasn't expecting a spatial spell on such a high tier. If anything, I'm even more shocked than you are."
Despite her words, she didn't display any of this 'shock' in any manner that I could see outwardly. She also didn't answer the question directly. Her answer may have related to the question, but it wasn't a real answer. Then again, it wasn't an outright lie either.
It's a common trick that people use to deflect... It's so see-through and obvious that it makes me wonder. Did the Empress want me to call her out on it? That would only lead to this confrontation getting more heated...
I'm overthinking this...
"Why didn't you say something earlier? When did you first notice that there was something off about this place?"
Cacophony ran her slender fingers through her crimson hair as she spoke. "From the first moment that we stepped outside of the graveyard. It was at that moment that the enemy's trap was activated. I wasn't sure what the ability was, its range, or any other details. I just knew that something had been activated. That's all."
My jaw tightened. It wasn't out of some feeling of anger. It was out of confusion. I didn't understand her actions.
"You're not making any sense... The enemy is one matter, but this should be something else entirely. Was there a reason you didn't tell me? Did you... not trust me?"
She chuckled lightly to herself, "Veri," She spoke in a softened tone, "You shouldn't feel so hurt over my actions. I didn't withhold information from you out of a sense of malice or because I didn't trust you. It was simply the best course of action."
I wanted to protest and say something clever, but I was still lost and confused. Sure, it may not have done her much good to tell me some hunch that she had, but that's not a reason not to tell me.
There was no reason for me to expect any trust from her, especially when I hardly trusted her myself. Still, it didn't sit right with me that she didn't tell me.
This whole time, she kept walking calmly beside me while I played the fool, thinking we were still in the real world.
She was watching me the whole time, wasn't she?
Cacophony turned toward me, the wind catching her hair just enough to veil part of her expression. Her eyes were unreadable behind that curtain of red, but her voice was steady.
"I understand your confusion," she said, "but don't mistake your feelings for fact. You're assuming I stood back and let you suffer in ignorance. That's not true."
Her words came gently, like silk drawn across the skin—but they didn't soothe. If anything, they grated.
I wanted to believe her. I really did. But my belief in the Empress was razor thin at best.
I didn't reply immediately. My throat was dry, and my thoughts were loud. Too loud.
'Best course of action? For whom exactly? For you, us, or some outcome that you've conjured up in your head? What's the deal with this enemy? Why is it better if I don't know who it is? Would something bad happen to me if I did, or is withholding the information just your preference? Is it really alright for me to be around her? What's the deal with this calming aura? Is it some kind of vampire ability meant to lure humans? Should I try and run away?'
They kept chasing each other in circles—accusations, questions, half-formed doubts—none of them solid enough to speak aloud.
I stood frozen in contemplation, unable to decide on any course of action.
In the end, Cacophony spoke first.
"If I had told you immediately, what would you have done?"
My brow furrowed. "I would've tried to help. I would've been on alert and tried to figure out what had changed."
She nodded slowly. "It's not that I don't believe you. You would've done your best to help, but you would've also panicked."
I hesitated for a moment. The spiraling thoughts in my mind came to an abrupt pause. "Huh?"
My brow furrowed, and my body straightened. My brain took a second to even process the answer that she'd given me.
"So, you didn't tell me... You didn't tell me because I would have panicked?"
She nodded again. "That's exactly correct."
"I didn't tell you," she said, "because you would've panicked. As I mentioned, I didn't have any knowledge of the actual mechanisms behind the trap that was activated or what it did. Telling you would've ruined all of your adorable enthusiasm and reactions. It would've been a waste, and as your Empress, I thought that path too regrettable to allow.
The words landed slowly. Not like a slap, but like a heavy coat being draped over my shoulders.
I didn't respond. I couldn't, not at first.
My mouth stayed shut, and the tension in my shoulders—tightly wound from walking through a dead world with no idea why—began to drain, molecule by molecule.
Was she lying... Or was she telling the truth... I couldn't tell.
Part of me wanted to argue. To tell her that I could have handled it, that I should have known. But even I wasn't convinced of that.
Still, another part of me hesitated.
I was just a walking, tangled mess of contradicting thoughts attempting to decide how to navigate an unprecedented new world.
My mouth opened, then closed again.
But then she kept speaking.
"Really, it was the perfect opportunity to observe you and your reactions. By taking this course of action, I was able to see many of your different facets and get a better idea of who you are. I must say, I'm not disappointed."
Her arms were folded, but not defensively. She wasn't bracing for a fight. She was just... explaining. Like this conversation, for once, didn't require calculation.
"You function better without pressure," she said after a pause. "That's something I've come to understand. You're the intuitive, reactive type. You think best when you're not thinking too much."
She turned her head slightly, the wind dying down, her eyes now fully visible—clear, unwavering.
"The raw materials are all there. Even if they're unrefined, I deem you an individual worthy of my attention."
I stood there, arms at my sides, unsure of what to say. My mind was still sprinting in circles, but something in her tone had made it trip—made it slow down.
"I didn't lie to you," she added. "I didn't manipulate you. I just... withheld what would've weighed you down. You needed space to breathe and to adapt, before the real pressure began."
My fingers twitched slightly at my sides. I didn't know what I was feeling.
Relieved, insulted, or... maybe thankful.
"Veri, I don't think you should discount yourself."
"What?"
"Your presence here is an asset. I'm not at full strength. I don't even have a fraction of the power that I possessed in my prime. If I were, we'd have been able to brute force our way out of this subspace, but that isn't the case, unfortunately."
"How do I come into play?"
"You're a second pair of hands and eyes. Even if you're going about things as a normal human, you present a new perspective. On top of that, you being here means that he can attempt solutions that wouldn't be possible with just one person."
Cacophony smirked. "Don't mistake yourself for being useless. You're a variable. A piece that the designer of this subspace never could've anticipated. Depending on how you're played. With all of that in mind, your role in all of this... is quite interesting."
I wouldn't say that she spoke those words with any fire or grand vision. It was cooler and more clinical than that. She was speaking freely, stating what she thought to be obvious facts.
My body was still somewhat tensed, but my heart skipped a beat.
My chest didn't swell with hope. My pulse didn't race. But her words settled somewhere, quiet, annoying, and hard to dismiss.
I knew that we weren't out of hot water yet and that it was stupid to waste any time on pointless things, but her words struck deep in my chest. There was an unbelievable power in them that seemed to flow through me.
Even if I couldn't fully believe it, the idea lodged itself in my chest like an ember, but it was akin to a flickering flame in a blizzard.
Still, I have to admire the Empress's ability to spur on this annoying feeling inside me.
Though I refuse to merely be swept along by it.
Her voice, low and melodic, brushed against my ears again. "You're trembling. Is it fear, or excitement?"
"Huh?"
I hadn't even noticed it myself, but when I looked down at my hands, they were shaking.
They weren't trembling like I was cold. It was subtler than that. A jitter, a twitch just beneath the surface, like my body couldn't decide if it wanted to flee or fight.
It pissed me off.
Because I didn't feel afraid. I didn't feel excited either. Not in the way people usually mean. There was no adrenaline rush. No thrill. Just this tightness in my chest and this stupid buzzing under my skin, like static clinging to the inside of my bones.
I balled my hands into fists, slowly, trying to will the shaking away.
I was trying to prove something to myself, or maybe to Cacophony.
But they kept shaking.
"Neither...", I whispered, but my voice lacked clarity.
Cacophony tilted her head. Her crimson eyes narrowed ever so slightly.
"There's no need to give me an answer. The body is often far more honest than the mouth."
A breath. Deep and cold. I drew it in, then forced it out through clenched teeth.
"Enough of that," I muttered.
It was obvious that attempting to point fingers and fight with the Empress wouldn't lead to any true solution. It would just waste time. She wasn't the kind of person who would let her hand show to someone that she'd met a short while ago.
But that didn't mean that my earlier thoughts were entirely correct either.
The Empress isn't some frightening creature that I needed to avoid getting close to. She was an enigmatic presence, something foreign and new.
Using logic that's been cultivated in mundane human society wouldn't be enough to judge a woman like this.
I already wasn't someone who had much experience with normal humans, but now I was face-to-face with something else entirely.
I looked up at her again. That crimson curtain that covered her face had disappeared, but I still couldn't determine what was going on behind the deep crimson of her eyes.
It was as if she could afford to be mysterious even now.
If I wanted to ever hope to understand the nonhuman that stood before, I would have to watch with open eyes. Just as she's done for me, I would have to observe her and come to my own conclusions.
"Alright then," I said, forcing some steel into my voice. "Let's stop dancing around it. How do we get out of here?"
Cacophony's smirk faded. Her eyes sharpened approvingly. "Finally asking the right question."
"That's good," she said, voice smooth, "because I don't intend to stay in this warped hellscape until the stars go cold either."