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Leksa, Heda the Reunifier of the Coalition of the Twelve Clans, wasn't panicking. She hadn't panicked a single time in her life, at least not since that long-past day that she had found the letter from Kostia, declaring her free of their love. Free to claim her destiny without Kostia 'holding her back', as if her most devoted, most stalwart, most loving supporter could be anything but her greatest source of strength. The prospect of losing Kostia had most certainly enough to drive a much younger Leksa into a panic, and though she had become a tad calmer about the thought of losing her love over several years of maturing, she still fiercely guarded the safety and proximity of those that she cared for most.
Which had most certainly come to include Clarke, for all the fact that they had known each other only a brief amount of time, and not just because she was making herself like her future wife and ruler either. Clarke was a genuinely good person, a kind and warm and loving person, and Lexa had little doubt that in a world without their fated marriage, she would have still come to love her. Likely with indecent haste, she had to admit with a wry smile that came and went in a flicker. How could it linger, when Clarke was missing, had been taken right out of her palace, and they had no way of finding her.
Well, that wasn't quite true, they knew exactly where she was, thanks to the coordinates attached to the sequence that had warned her about Clarke's departure to begin with. Unfortunately, those coordinates were utterly worthless, since they led to someplace over three hundred miles away. And Lexa's attempt to use her own tek and the information she had been provided by the notification to follow had proved fruitless, leaving she and her family to seethe in painful uncertainty, casting a pall over the celebration and leaving the whole of the palace on tenterhooks.
Which led back to Leksa's lack of panicking, because she most certainly wasn't, as she paced her suite chewing on her bottom lip -a habit she had picked up as a child, throttled into nonexistent as a Prospect, and now only display in the most private and intimate of stressful situations- while thinking furiously about what she could do…and agonizing feeling frustrated over the fact that she was coming up with nothing.
An unfortunate trait shared by her sisters and Costia.
They could hardly call out the army to search for Klark or Kassandra, after all, not least because no one had any idea where to start looking. Kassandra was known as The Wanderer for a reason, no one even knew what clan she was supposedly from. She came and went as she pleased, occasionally appearing from the mists to slaughter entire patrols of Mountain Men, or to leave the heads of an entire bandit clan at the gate of a military outpost, or to provide critical information about pauna or other dangers. That she was an ally was undisputed, and so her eccentricities had been written off as the oddities of a very helpful, very isolated hermit, never pursued any further out of an amused sort of affection and polite respect. A decision that they were all regretting now, because it meant that they had near enough to no information to go on.
"I have come to a conclusion." Caris suddenly announced, from where she had been sitting and staring in utter silence into the fireplace, watching the flames flicker and dance and snap with nary a movement for the last half-hour. Every pair of eyes turned to her, several eyebrows arching in invitation, as she rose to her feet and turned to face the suite at large. "Kassandra is a Sentinel, a Guardian of the Tombs. Perhaps even their leader."
Leksa couldn't bring herself to disagree with the incredulous, snorting-scoff that Ontari loosed in response, the Ice Nation Chosen planting her arms on the back of a high-backed chair by the dinner table so she could lean on it as she gave their newest sister a look that could at the most polite be called skeptical.
"And what, exactly, would make you think that? The Sentinels never act, they never leave their lands. They haven't done, not since they helped overthrow Sheidheda. We know nothing about them, so what is it that has you summoning this theory out of thin air?" she asked, her tone harsher than Leksa would approve of a fellow Chosen speaking with anyone, never mind a sister, but Caris seemed unperturbed.
"Hardly thin air, though I admit that I only have strong suppositions and speculations to support my argument." she responded, folding her hands at the small of her back as she took on a slightly lecturing tone. "We know, from their involvement in The Restoration, that the Sentinels seem to put particular interest in the health of the Coalition and it's adherence to Pramheda's Wisdoms. We know that they monitor the Coalition to ensure that we act appropriately, and we know that they will act if they deem that we are not. We know that their lands were guaranteed to them, inviolable and in perpetuity, when the Coalition was first created one-hundred years ago."
The room nodded together, because of course they knew that. Everyone knew that. The Sentinels were the one clan that had access to tek and fiyagons, though they near-never used them, and one of Pramheda's first decrees when she had established the Coalition was that the Tomblands belonged to them and only to them. As for their interference in the Coalition's state, well, they all knew that intimately. None of them had been alive during the reign of Sheidheda, but many of those closest to them -like Indra, or Gustus, or even Queen Nia- had been children during those days. They had all heard the stories, from both the Flamekeepers and from those same loved ones.
"Next, we know that the the Mausoleum of Aleksia Pramheda serves as a hidden entrance to a hidden room, one that somehow -and it must have been through some tek never-before-seen by us- took Klark three hundred miles away, far from any Coalition heartlands. We know that Kassandra was spotted in the gardens before Klark vanished, and we know that Kassandra was involved in this transportation. Therefore, Kassandra knew about the hidden room, and more importantly is aware of how to use it." Caris continued after a moment, and Leksa's lower lip popped out from between her teeth as she started to grasp where the Sangedakru girl was going with this. Kostia, Maker bless her, put it together even faster and spoke aloud.
"You're saying that the Sentinels have been waiting for Klark to arrive, that they saw the sky-metal fall and guess that the time had come, and that Kassandra came looking for her in order to, what, fulfill some sort of instructions left behind by Pramheda?" her crimson-haired lover asked, and Caris nodded with a small, pleased smile on her lips.
"Correct. However, upon her arrival here, Kassandra would have soon discovered that Klark was badly injured, and so would not have taken her away then. Likewise, it is only recently, according to your own words, that you have not accompanied Klark near-constantly, thus there would have been no clear opportunity." she confirmed, before shrugging slightly. "It is even possible that Klark let something slip, at some point, that would have led to Kassandra guessing her plans, or even spoke with her to arrange this ahead of time. They have met several times, have they not?"
"They have, but I don't think this was arranged ahead of time." Leksa was the one to speak this time, firmly and with surety. "I don't believe that she would have left without an explanation or some sort of notice for us or, more personally, for Niylah. Not after how close we, and especially they, have become with one another. I think Klark planned to enter the Mausoleum, rather than reach the ORACLE as we expected. That much I agree with. But I don't think she actually knew what was there. Perhaps she thought the ORACLE was there. There certainly seemed to be enough space for it in that room, so perhaps…?"
"Ah. Perhaps you are correct. They do seem to be quite close to one another, despite the brevity of their Companionship." Caris bobbed her head thoughtfully. "All the same, I wonder if perhaps…"
Leksa yelped and slapped a hand to her ears, an action mimicked by her sisters and lover, as her 'MERC' and 'Focus' -which were sitting on the dining room table a few seats down from where Ontari was standing- let out a shrieking wail. Almost in the same moment, shouting from the city below wafted up through the windows, sending Kostia bolting for the balcony even as Leksa hastned over to the two pieces of tek in an attempt to figure out what was going on. The moment that she touched them, the shrieking cut out, and the moment they were back in their positions of function she found herself scrambling to read a rapidly moving wall of text.
ALERT: Orbital Launch Detected.
ALERT: Atmospheric Breach Detected.
ALERT: Military Transponder Detected.
Querying IFF markers.
Analyzing…
Analyzing…
Transponder Ident Family: PROJECT ARK
Transponder Ident Type: EXODUS SHIP
Transponder Ident Serial #: 4/10
"Leksa! Leksa, sky-fire!" Kostia yelled from the balcony, and Leksa felt like she had flown, she moved outside so quickly, Caris and Ontari on her heels. All of them saw the burning object hurtling through the sky, so very like the fire that had brought Klark to them, and Leksa's breath caught in her throat as she put what she had read together with what she was watching now.
"Someone else is coming down. It's Klark's people." she breathed the words, but all three of her companions heard her, and the air was briefly colored blue by the curses that all of them, even Caris, let loose.
"Of all the bloody times for more of them to show up, it's when Klark is gone and we're on the verge of damaging our trust with her and hers with us!" Ontari hissed, slamming a hand down on the balcony railing with a harsh slapping sound, wincing at the feeling it induced in her palm. "The timing couldn't be worse."
"Not to mention we have no idea where they are going to land." Leksa agreed, despairing for a moment that Klark would return to find out a group of her people had come and died because Leksa's own couldn't find them in time, but fortunately for her the tek she was wearing took her comment as a question, just as it had in the ORACLE Room.
Projected Destination for Exodus ship is: 38.8764° N, 77.0722° W.
Destination Designation: Arlington National Cemetery, Tomb of the Unknown Soldier.
Leksa didn't even have time to smile in relief before things got worse.
ALERT: Increased network traffic detected.
ALERT: Exodus Ship course change detected.
ALERT: Exodus Ship navigation system compromised.
"Compromised how? What's happening?" Leksa bit out the words, now glaring at the invisible words, well aware of how her family was looking at her right now.
Signal hijacking of Exodus navigation system has caused adjustment of course.
ALERT: Exodus System is attempting to reject signal interference. Course Restored.
ALERT: Exodus System compromised. Course Altered.
ALERT: Exodus System is attempting to reject signal interference. Course Restored.
ALERT: Exodus System…
"Who is responsible? Where is the interference coming from?!" she was snarling now, she knew, as she cut off what was clearly going to be another repetition of the same handful of lines. She wasn't entirely sure what was going on, but she could guess: someone was trying to steer the sky-metal and it's inhabitants off course, and the people onboard were attempting to stop them.
Analyzing…
Analyzing…
Signal Interference Point of Origin: Mount Weather Emergency Operations Center, Command and Control.
"Fuck!" there was the despair, back again, because if she had to tell Klark that the Maunon got their hands on Sky People…she'd be lucky if the blonde she'd come to care for only treated her as a stranger at that point!
ALERT: Signal Interference.
ALERT: Mount Weather Signal Compromised.
ALERT: Mount Weather Signal Compromised.
ALERT: Mount Weather Signal Deactivated.
ALERT: Exodus System restored.
Projecting landing site…
…
…
Landing coordinates determined.
Exodus Ship 4/10 Landing Coordinates: 38.8501° N, 77.0392° W
Destination Designation: Ronald Reagan International Airport, Runway 01/19
Leksa stared hard at the information as the sky-fire vanished below the treeline, before spinning on her heel and rushing for her maps, her family once again following, though for the moment they were silent as they recognized that she was focused on something and that asking her questions would only slow things down. A few minutes of calculation later, and Leksa was putting a pin into one particular spot, south west of TonDC and south-east of the Tomblands.
"We're going. Kostia, send word to the Senate that my sisters and I are going on a little trip to build a closer bond. That will keep them off our backs. Inform Gustus and Indra that they are in charge in my absence, then join us at the stables. Go." she ordered, speaking quickly, and Kostia didn't even waste the time to acknowledge the command, near about flying from the room to obey. "Caris, the stables. Tell them to get their five fastest horses ready, and make sure they have food and aid supplies packed." Caris inclined her head and swept from the room as well. Finally, Leksa turned her attention to Ontari. "If Caris is right and Kassandra does lead the Sentinels, then she and Klark are fully aware of what has just happened. I expect we'll run into them at some point on this search. Go wake Niylah, get her ready to travel. Answer whatever questions you have to in order to get her moving, but don't waste any time with details. We can cover that on the road. Get going."
She obeyed, leaving Leksa alone, and the Steward of the Throne scowled down at her map for a long, long moment. Nearly fifty miles separated her from her objective. Two days of travel, pushing their horses to the brink. Less, if they were able to swap their mounts out at outposts or villages along the way. Not a great deal of time, on the grand scheme of things, but far less time than it would take Maunon tek to get there. Not to mention the Sky People could very well be injured or disoriented, and there were plenty of natural predators that could make a meal of them before any aid could arrive.
Why didn't she think to send out orders that any sky-metal was to be investigated once she had met Klark? Once Klark had explained everything to her? If she had, riders from TonDC would be on their way even now, and they truly might still be so, but it was only a chance, and that wasn't good enough!
Leksa growled low in her throat, grabbing her sword belt from its hook and buckling it around her waist smoothly. She snatched her dagger next, sliding it into its sheath at the small of her back, before reaching for her travel pack. The time for self-recrimination would come later, as would laying out plans to prevent this from happening again. Now was the time for action.
As she gathered her necessities and left her suite, her mind ticked through the implications of what they'd just witnessed, what information had just been given to her. The Maunon had attempted to redirect the 'Exodus Ship', iron-clad proof they were monitoring the skies and would try to interfere with the arrival of any further Sky People. Troubling, and potentially dangerous without plans or further information, but not entirely outlandish given the circumstances. What concerned her more was the counter-signal that had protected the Sky vessel. Something —or someone— had intervened, ensuring the ship landed safely away from Mount Weather's reach. And they had done it with tek.
She paused mid-stride, eyes narrowing slightly as a thought occurred, before she resumed walking. If Kassandra was a Sentinel, if she was leader of the Sentinels, and if she had access to Old World tek like that found in Pramheda's Mausoleum, she very well could have been behind that intervention, either of her own volition or because Klark had commanded it. That only made it even more likely that she would find the two missing women at the end of her journey, and that was a thought that put a bit more speed into her stride.
She had come too far, and was too close to what she had dreamed of and worked towards her entire life, to let anything or anyone take it from her now.
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Clarke awoke, warm and comfortable, lying on…something that was rocking gently back and forth. She blinked rapidly, disoriented by the softness beneath her and the gentle breeze carrying scents she couldn't immediately identify. Scents that she had never smelled before, but somehow…recognized?
"What the hell?" she murmured, pushing herself up from what appeared to be a porch swing with plush cushions, comfortable and richly colored. Her eyes traced over her surroundings and she froze, mouth falling open
Before her stretched a landscape that couldn't possibly exist. Rolling green hills dotted with grazing animals —horses and cattle, healthy and looking as though they had just stepped out of an old book or film— bordered by white wooden fences that showed no signs of decay, all beneath a brilliant, cloud-wisped cerulean sky that had none of the haze or storms of post-war Earth. The air itself seemed different, she could tell that with every single breath that she took. Cleaner, somehow impossibly pure, carrying the sweet fragrance of wildflowers and fresh grass, untainted by the war, and how could she even know what those smelled like?
"This has to be a dream, somehow I'm dreaming while Cassandra and ALIE are doing…whatever it is that they're doing." Clarke whispered, but even as she said it, she knew it wasn't true. Everything felt too real, too vivid. The cushions beneath her hands had texture and weight, the breeze moved through her hair with genuine sensation, and when she pinched herself—hard—it hurt exactly as much as it should have. Not to mention that drug-induced unconsciousness didn't really come with dreams as a matter of course.
"Not a dream, kiddo. A memory." The voice came from behind her, gentle and familiar in a way that made her heart skip. Clarke spun around to find a woman standing a few feet away, leaning against one of the support beams of the porch, arms crossed and smiling at her. She was beautiful and as starkly blonde-haired and green-eyed as Clarke herself was, wearing overalls and a red checkered shirt.
She was also…
"Great-grandmother?" Clarke breathed, and Alexia Griffin's smile grew, head dipping in a nod.
"Yeah. It's nice to meet you, Clarke. I've been waiting for a very long time. About a hundred years as a matter of fact." she confirmed, and Clarke shook her head in confusion.
"I…I don't understand. You're dead, and you said this is a memory, but I've never been to…wherever this is. Whenever this is. How can I be experiencing a memory that I never had." she asked, thoroughly bewildered.
"It's not your memory, Clarke. It's mine." Alexia pushed away from the post and moved to sit beside her on the swing. "And you're right, I am dead. Been dead for a long time now, resting at last after fighting the good fight. But part of me... lives on.
The swing creaked gently as Alexia settled in, and Clarke found herself staring at the woman's profile. There was something unsettling about seeing her own features mirrored in someone else's face so perfectly, someone who should have been dust and bones decades ago.
"This is my home. Or rather, it was. Before the bombs fell." Alexia gestured at the pastoral scene before them. "Virginia farmland. Been in the family for nineteen generations by the time the world ended. My father's pride and joy, and then mine, and it would have been yours in time. Still could be, with a bit of work."
"How is this possible?" Clarke whispered, tentatively reaching out to touch her great-grandmother's arm, sure her hand would pass right through. It didn't. "How are you here? How am I here?"
"ALIE and Cassandra told you that you would experience things you'd never known before, have abilities that you'd never had and be able to learn skills you were never taught. Even have memories that you never made and be able to interact with them. That's what this is." Alexia explained, making herself a bit more comfortable on the cushions. "And it all comes down to the fact that people like you and I aren't quite human anymore. And, quite frankly, you more than me."
"What do you mean? Cassandra and ALIE, they mentioned Precursor DND or something like that, but…?" Clarke let the question trail off, and Alexia nodded, taking on a more serious mien.
"Correct, yes. The story is a long one, especially in regards to the Precursors, but it ultimately boils down to this: millions of years ago, the first version of humanity was born, here on Earth. They evolved, advanced, and eventually reached the point where their technology and innate abilities would have them be considered lesser gods by any measure. At that point, they decided that they were going to…experiment. One of those experiments resulted in a 'lesser', or unevolved, version of their own race."
"Us." Clarke interjected, putting what few pieces she had together, and Alexia nodded.
"Yes. We, what you and I know as humanity, came to regard our 'parents' as gods, and started to worship them. Unfortunately, that…went to their heads. They began to act as gods, to think of themselves as gods, and they began to act cruelly towards humanity. Eventually, we rebelled, and a war broke out. They had technology, we had numbers, and it was…bloody."
Clarke could only nod numbly, trying to wrap her head around what she was being told. Which was virtually impossible, but she was starting to get used to dealing with impossible things. It was easy to see why a war between two races, one few in number but with superior technology versus inferior technology and far greater numbers, could be described as 'bloody'. And she was willing to bit that was a vast understatement.
"Eventually, as Cassandra and ALIE have told you, the Great Catastrophe happened, wiping out nearly all of the Isu, decimating humanity, and forcing us to interbreed to survive."
"Which is where our special bloodline or wherever comes from, this interbreeding? And they said something about specific families being cultivated to be stronger? I'm guessing we belong to one of them?"
"Exactly right, but there is more to it than that, at least for you. You see, while many Isu were willing to interbreed with humanity and accept that their people were dying out, there were some that weren't. Mostly from the pantheons, rival Isu factions, that…weren't as well-known for kindness towards their worshippers as others. But one particular pantheon specialized in foreknowledge, in determining the future. The Asgardians. Aesir and Vanir. They knew that the Great Catastrophe was coming,"
"Ragnarök." Clarke breathed, getting another nod.
"Exactly, and they knew it was coming, so some of them uploaded their consciousnesses into a supercomputer named Yggdrasil, as in the world tree, which would reincarnate them into humanity over and over again. Into the thickest of the bloodlines, those closest to their own race."
The implication was clear, and Clarke felt her blood run cold. "You're telling me I'm the reincarnation of an ancient alien god?"
"Not quite." Alexia held up a hand, forestalling Clarke's rising panic, smiling softly at her. "You're not a reincarnation, you're something far more unique. You see, the Asgardians made a mistake in their calculations. They assumed that their consciousness could simply be overlaid onto a human mind, that their personalities and memories would dominate and overwrite the mind of the human. What they didn't account for was the strength of human will, particularly in bloodlines like ours that had been specifically cultivated for resilience."
The swing continued its gentle motion as Clarke tried to process this information. "So what happened?"
"Instead of being reborn as Asgardians in human bodies, something new was created. A fusion. The Asgardian consciousness provided knowledge, abilities, and expanded mental capacity, while the human soul provided creativity, compassion, and most importantly, free will. The result was neither fully human nor fully Isu, but something entirely unprecedented." Alexia's eyes grew distant as she gazed out over the pastoral landscape. "So many of our line were reborn in this way, going all the way back to Eivor Varinsdottir of Norway, over a thousand years ago, though the Asgardian influence has grown stronger with each generation. But you, Clarke... you're the culmination of a century of careful preparation."
Clarke felt her hands trembling slightly, a voice in the back of her mind wondering in gibbering panic if it was possible to faint while unconscious already. "What do you mean, preparation?"
"The AI that's been helping you, ALIE, she's not just any artificial intelligence. She's not even made by humans. She's actually older than our entire race, an entity created by the Isu to help organize their efforts and affairs. Cassandra? She's…" here Alexia's expression took on a strange, complex sort of emotion. "She's an ancestor of ours, though I wonder sometimes if she is aware of it, after so long. If she even allows herself to be aware of it. She and Eivor were lovers for a time, you see, and though they were separated after only a few weeks together by their divergent paths, she…left Eivor with a piece of her."
Clarke blushed, understanding exactly what that meant, no matter how politely it was being phrased.
"But all of that aside, she has, as you are well aware, been around for thousands of years, and over the last hundred has made sure that Earth was ready for you to arrive. Stepping in when necessary to keep the Coalition relatively stable, things like that. She was supposed to be the one to help you sneak into the palace and into my Mausoleum to reach The Vault, but…well, you know what happened with that."
"Yes, I met Niylah, met Costia, got shot, and now I'm in the midst of learning how to be a dominatrix." Clarke acknowledged dryly, lips quirking despite the situation, the smile growing at her great-grandmother's delighted giggle.
"I wouldn't phrase it quite like that, dear." Alexia said, her laughter settling into a warm smile. "But I suppose there are worse ways to describe the process of learning to command an empire. Or how to make your lovers happy in bed."
Clarke shook her head, leaving that thought behind for the moment to focus on the real priority of this conversation. "So I'm some kind of... hybrid consciousness? Part human, part ancient alien god?"
"In the simplest terms, yes. Though the integration isn't complete yet. That's part of what this process is about." Alexia gestured to the idyllic surroundings. "Your consciousness is currently interfacing with memories and knowledge that have been dormant within you. The neural pathways are being established, connections forming that will allow you to access abilities and understanding that no purely human mind could contain."
"Which god?" Clarke asked suddenly, realizing that this was actually kind of a big deal, potentially would make quite the difference in what changes might be made to her. "If I'm carrying the consciousness of an Asgardian, which one am I supposed to be? And will my body be getting changed the way my mind is? Because I'm…still pretty squishy."
"Answering the second question first, not right away. With the proper genes activated and…reinforced by ALIE's efforts, your body will start to develop quickly until it's capable of performing the feats that your mind will be pushing for it to perform. You'll also…pick up a few things from your memories that will come in handy later on." Alexia responded, speaking delicately towards the end, which made Clarke's eyes narrow suspiciously, though her ancestor simply moved on without further comment rather than acknowledging her expression. "As for which Isu, well, you have a fair bit of Artemis in you, from Kassandra's side, and a bit of Zeus. There was a reason that she was called 'Eagle-Bearer' in her lifetime, after all. But the person you're a reincarnation of, or meant to be? Odin."
"…oh. I guess that's why ALIE recommended the names she did for my wolves." the younger of the pair mumbled to herself, before frowning unhappily. "Well, I certainly didn't feel like a reincarnation of Odin when the girls were kicking my ass up one side of the yard and down the other during spear training. Isn't that Odin's whole thing, using spears?"
"Interesting priorities for the first things that come to mind." the elder teased, clearly enjoying the way that Clarke pouted, and looked away. "You'll find yourself picking it up faster, now, amongst other things. But yes, you're something of a potent cocktail bloodline wise. Unusually so, even for people like us, but…things have a way of coming together when they're needed most."
The world flickered around them, distorting briefly, and Alexia sighed.
"Looks like we're out of time. You're waking up."
"What?! No, I can't!" Clarke blurted in protest, head snapping back around as her eyes widened in distress. "I have so many questions, about all of this, about you, about our family! I can't leave yet!"
"We'll meet again, Clarke, but you need to wake up. Something unexpected has happened. Your loved ones need you, soon."
Alexia's form began to shimmer like a mirage in desert heat, the pastoral scene around them fading at the edges. Clarke reached out desperately, trying to grasp her ancestor's hand.
"Wait! What's happening? Who needs me?"
"Your people, Clarke, your birth people." Alexia's voice was growing distant, starting to echo in the way that things did when sleep was imminent. "More have come down. They're in danger."
"The Ark? But it's too soon! They weren't supposed to—"
"Not all of it. Just one ship. But Mount Weather..." Alexia's image flickered like a faulty transmission. "They know. They're hunting. Lexa is already on her way to find them. Hurry, Clarke."
The world around Clarke began to dissolve, the colors bleeding together like paint under water. The last thing she saw was Alexia's serene smile, painfully similar to her own, before it all faded away.
Clarke awoke with a gasp, chilled and stiff, lying on the table with the gleaming metal and bright lights hanging over her.
"Welcome back, Clarke. Listen…" Cassandra started to say, only to fall silent as Clarke held up a hand to cut her off.
"I know, something's happened. Someone else has come down from the Ark." she finished, sitting up and shifting so that she was seated on the edge of the table, running a hand through her hair. "Find out where, and figure out how to get us there as quickly as possible. And Cassandra…"
Cassandra had nodded and started to turn away, only to pause and look back. Clarke lifted her eyes until they met, holding the millenia-old warrior's gaze fiercely.
"I need a weapon."
[1] https://www.patreon.com/c/astandupphilosopher
[2] https://discord.gg/3VKjmXBYY8
[3] https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Fanfic/NothingIsTrue