The Art of Vulnerability

Patience.

While Mercury certainly had her lines of frustration and temperament, she liked to think that her ability to be painstakingly patient was one of her best honed skills. She knew how to wait, how to sew seeds, how to misdirect and play the game without tipping her hand. However, it had been some time since she’d ever tested such skills against an opponent like Maker, if she ever had before; one who could keep up with her in nearly every aspect. Every move she made had to be done with careful precision in order to not lead him on to the fact that she wasn’t quite who she said she was.

Thankfully, she was fairly confident in the behavior that Maker expected of her. That was to say, she knew that he expected her to get into some trouble and to test her limits, and he also expected her to be able to pull the occasional fast one over him sooner or later. The hardest part about her mission was keeping him feeling like he was the one in control and finding subtle ways to let him believe that he had been able to keep track of everything she was doing at any given time, while also believing that she was completely unaware he was doing so.

Mercury knew that he had ways of monitoring her clone while she was in his bunker. He had several layers of security throughout the building, some of which were rather elementary – at least by their standards. The average Earthlander would likely have a hard time finding all of them, but someone with the technological aptitude of Maker and Mercury could track them down in their sleep, and as such she knew he expected her to be aware of those. However, he had several other measures of security that were hidden behind many other layers of encryptions, ones that were so heavily protected that she was confident he felt she would never find them.

And it was with this platform from which she started laying the groundwork for earning his trust. Or rather, letting his trust in his ability to control her completely solidify. Mercury had played along thus far with the errands and tasks he asked her to run, collecting this and that at his behest or assisting with projects here and there under his watchful eye. However, as the months went on he continued to loosen the slack on her leash more and more, at least in terms of while she was inside the hideout. He knew she would snoop; in fact, she knew he was counting on her to do so, wanting to see where she would poke around and likely not altogether concerned with what she might find. As she came to understand as time moved along, anything that he truly wished to hide he simply had not kept at this particular location, especially Knowhere and any evidence of the mysterious power he had used to destroy Vandrad’s magical core.

But, that didn’t stop her from looking. If anything, he would likely be more suspicious of her not snooping for such things. Thus did she allow herself to test the limits of what she could get away with further and further as the days went by, seemingly growing more confident in her ability to peek around when she supposedly thought he wasn’t looking. Before long there were even times that he would leave her within the confines of the bunker by herself for extended periods, and it was during these times that she laid the heaviest ground work: there were times he would observe her poking around and being pleased or even smug about her results… however, there were also times where she allowed herself to be seen as frustrated, angry… even morose. She needed to help him build an idea of who she was when she felt he wasn’t looking, and if she was going to take steps at all to convince him that he was in complete control, then more than anything he needed to see her vulnerable – something she allowed herself to be with increasing frequency, to the point that when she was alone she would seem to be… disinterested in most things. Hopeless. Resigned.

It had been going well enough for a while now, or so she felt, but the time had come to take another step, to shake the cage just the smallest bit to see what the fruits of her labor would loosen. Maker – or rather Eriladar, as she had recently come to learn – had left her unsupervised for a while that day, and it would be the first day that Mercury simply didn’t even attempt to poke around while he was gone. Instead, once she had finished up with the small handful of tasks he’d given her, she passed the time on a couch in one of the few lounging areas of the bunker that was designed for at least mild comfort rather than work, where there was a television that had access to a small selection of movies and shows. She spent an hour or two flipping through streams, never staying on one long enough to fully get invested.

Finally, with a sigh, she simply turned the device off and sat there for a while. After a few moments of uneventful silence, Mercury stirred once more and this time she did something she hadn’t done since being brought back to life: she used her magic. Maker had never removed the wristbands that had supposedly kept her magical abilities suppressed, and she’d never shown any signs of removing them or canceling out their abilities. Today, however, she stood to her feet and moved to an area of the room that had a bit of open space. With the flick of her wrist she conjured an electric keyboard piano, the instrument materializing along with a metal bench for her to sit on and a small floor speaker for the sound to play from.

She sat at the bench and idly played a few keys, not really creating any kind of tune rather than just hearing the instrument’s sound. It had been close to half a year since she’d played. Technically longer than that, if one counted the near year that she had been dead before her resurrection at Maker’s hands, so she allowed herself an almost tender moment to reacquaint herself with the musical device. After a moment, she straightened herself out and began to play for real, pulling out a song at random and playing, the tune rather orchestral in design and of intermediate complexity.

It was only after she’d been playing a couple of songs for several minutes that she shifted gears. Picking a single note, she began to play it in a steady rhythm until her voice finally joined the ensemble.

♫“I will have to die for this, I fear
There's rage and terror and there's sickness here
I fight because I have to
I fight for us to know the truth

There's not enough rope to tie me down
There's not enough tape to shut this mouth
The stones you throw can make me bleed
But I won't stop until we're free
Wild hearts can't be broken
No, wild hearts can't be broken

This is my rally cry
I know it's hard, we have to try
This is a battle I must win
To want my share is not a sin

There's not enough rope to tie me down
There's not enough tape to shut this mouth
The stones you throw can make me bleed
But I won't stop until we're free
Wild hearts can't be broken
No, wild hearts can't be broken

You beat me, betray me
You're losing, we're winning
My spirit above me
You cannot deny me
My freedom is burning
This broken world keeps turning
I'll never surrender
There's nothing, but a victory

There's not enough rope to tie me down
There's not enough tape to shut this mouth
The stones you throw can make me bleed
But I won't stop until we're free
Wild hearts can't be broken
Wild hearts can't be broken
This wild heart can't be broken”♫

As the song continued on, the passion in her playing and singing increased. Yet, despite the determined words of the chorus, there was a melancholy to the way she sang. And as the piano’s notes faded, however, Mercury’s expression drifted into something more neutral, perhaps even stony. Her internal sensors had picked up the moment that Maker had walked into the room, though she had not stopped playing, nor did she now turn to look at him. “Did you need something?” she asked, the slightest touch of irritation in her voice.

She questioned his presence, asking in not so many words if he had interrupted her session for a reason, her tone not aggressive but not friendly either. Even as he took the time to approach and formulate an answer Mercury continued to play idly on the keyboard, seemingly disinterested in giving him any kind of attention. His compliments were met with similar apathy, the Xocili not altogether moved by his words, despite their surprising authenticity. She barely cast him a sidelong glance, her eyes briefly taking in his state of dress. His current attire was not dissimilar to what Cillian nearly always wore: a pair of pants and an open faced button up shirt that left his chiseled torso exposed.

Normally, Mercury wouldn’t have missed an opportunity to make a comment. She had a reputation for being flirtatious, and she wasn’t exactly shy about admitting when she found someone attractive, even an enemy such as himself. Yet instead of any kind of playful commentary that he would have come to expect from her at this point, she did little more than take a brief stock of his presence before going back to keeping her eyes on the keys in front of her. He praised the song and remarked upon the emotional place from which she sang it before expressing his thoughts that she had written it for him, even going so far as to ask how long she had been working on her little expression of rebelliousness.

Her first response was a dry snort, a short laugh that lacked any true amusement. “If these lyrics were meant for you, I would have simply invited you to listen. Despite what you seem to believe, Maker, you are not the center of the universe. That song was written well before I met you… but I suppose it was overreaching to hope that I might have a moment of privacy – whether genuine or fabricated." As he likely could have guessed, her coldness toward him in that moment was stemming from a place of having been caught, or at least approached, in a moment where she had let her guard down, pretending she was alone enough to simply be herself for a minute without having to constantly keep up the facade of confidence that she used to mask her insecurities.

And it seemed she was content to let her explanation end there. Lifting one of her hands from the piano, she snapped her fingers and a small electrical implant materialized in the air. It hovered before Maker within arm’s reach, her first such time displaying that her magic was much more than simply being able to requip herself with pre-built electronics and mechanical gadgets. It was the chip he had tasked her to help him perfect, or at least a copy of it. If he had means of checking the lab from where he stood he would see the original still sitting in the spot where she had last worked on it, meaning that she had fabricated an exact replica out of thin air.

“Your prototype is complete.” As she lowered her hand back down toward the keyboard, the bands around her wrist caught her attention. Rolling her eyes slightly, she unclasped the devices entirely with very little effort, tossing them carelessly off to the side of the room. He’d clearly already seen her utilize her magic to conjure the piano, so there was no point in pretending anymore that her abilities were suppressed. She returned to mindlessly, if quietly, plunking away at the keys. “Go ahead and run your diagnostics or whatever. Let me know if anything’s not syncing.”

“So. Did you at least bring me something else to work on? I’m caught up on all the projects you assigned me, as well as several that you didn’t, so having something else to keep me occupied would be welcome.” It was obvious that she was deflecting, hoping to lure him away from the original topic of conversation with another that he might find more tempting.

The stage had been set, almost literally considering her placement behind the large musical organ. She was acting outside of her norm, and a man like Maker was far too curious to ignore such behavior. And, as she suspected, he was also far too curious to let the matter pass. Mercury fed her line about getting into several other projects that he was unaware of, seemingly in the hope that he would be more concerned with that than with continuing his line of questioning, and instead he elected to table the matter in order to stay focused on the current subject, calling her outright on her dismissive attitude.

Maker questioned the seeming inaccuracy of her claim, stating that if she truly wished for him to not receive the song then she could have gone to a room where she wasn’t under observation. He had been inside her brain, physically, and knew the extent of her scanners and radars, not including her magic. He insisted that he knew he was not the end all be all of the universe, but the supposed evidence was nonetheless conclusive in his mind that she had meant for him to hear it. “And if I still believed that such a place existed in this dreary, dank old bunker then I would have. These days, I find it safer to assume that you have means of keeping an eye on me no matter what room I am in, in which case it doesn’t really matter where I try to hide, does it?”

She clearly wasn’t expecting an answer, the question more rhetorical than anything else as she did her best to ignore him and carry on with her selected distraction. While his words were blunt his mannerism was gentle. Maker strolled around the piano and took a seat on the couch that Mercury had vacated not long ago, the emerald skinned man just visible out of her peripheral vision as he made himself comfortable, his fingers trailing along the scar on his chest. He invited her to be honest with him, patting the empty space beside him. Mercury’s gaze flicked in his direction briefly but she seemed disinclined to join him, instead continuing to play on the keyboard at a lowered volume. After a moment of stony silence from her, he asked outright about the song’s origins, curious about what might have inspired its creation.

She scoffed out a humorless laugh. “I’ll believe a lot of things, Maker, but I refuse to believe you are that ignorant,” Mercury told him as her fingers moved gracefully across the board. “Or do you actually believe that the Nazru would employ me – a Xocili – under any kind of willing and mutually beneficial arrangement?” Presuming he gave some kind of response of shock, or at least a very pregnant pause that might betray his surprise, her playing would slow to a stop as she turned her hardened gaze to him, the truth of her station in life all too evident on her face. There was a toughness to her expression, but it was a mask, and any deeper look would reveal the lifelong exhaustion, weariness, and hopelessness hiding behind the cleverly crafted defiance in her eyes. It was the look of a woman who had needed to fight and scrape and claw through her entire life, who could never truly trust anyone, always ready to act at a moment’s notice out of self preservation.

Eventually she would turn away, her attention once more on the keyboard though she did not start playing again. She seemed to be struggling with an internal war of some kind before finally her shoulders would droop in resignation. Her expression settled into something more apathetic and dismissive, accepting that he wasn’t going to let this go but refusing to let herself look vulnerable, even if they both knew she felt it. “My people had already been fighting for their lives against the Nazru for nearly a full decade before I was born. My mother was a refugee on a ship full of other refugees trying to survive. I was nearly two by the time they finally found us. They didn’t kill us all right away, but over time…” Her voice trailed off and she shook her head. “Eventually it was just me left. You are not the first person to hold my leash, Maker. You’re not even the true owner of it. This is not unfamiliar territory for me… though the Nazru at least had decency enough to give me a window.”

She gave him a falsely sweet smile and turned back to the piano, her fingers once more plucking away at the keys as an air of frustration practically vibrated around her. “Satisfied?”

She wove her tale of woe, if not with as much outright self-pity. Mercury was complying with his wish for more information for the time being, but clearly she did not expect any empathy from him. He wasted no time in admitting that he held little satisfaction out of her story, finding himself armed only with more questions. Maker explained his understanding of what the Nazru had done to her people, what their entire purpose and goal was, and as such he was sure that they purged her people with extreme prejudice, which begged the question: Why was she the sole Xocili that they had kept in their arsenal.

“Because I was the only one with potential.” It was a slow and bitter statement, each word more deeply emphasized with simmering contempt and resentment as the sentence came to an end, her fingers hitting the keys of the piano with noticeably more force.

He continued, claiming that she didn’t correctly grasp what it was he truly wanted from her. He only had her under a vice grip because he knew that she hated him, and that if he did not keep her under constant guard that he would quickly pay for it with his life. But the only thing he wanted was a business partnership with her, a joint venture where together they could join the brilliance of both of their minds to see what wonders they could craft alongside one another. To him, she was a wonder, a miracle unlike anything found in the entire universe.

Mercury said nothing in response to his pretty words, listening but letting her stubbornness to not be entirely complicit win out. After a moment of silence he offered his condolences about her people, though he admitted his understanding that she might be skeptical of his sympathies – which were genuine, if not from a place of empathy. Still, she was silent. Another beat later and he posed a personal question, hoping that he would indulge her. What he wanted to know was what she would do if she could be freed from the Nazru’s control. Would she do as she did with Zifu, going out of her way to wipe them out as they had done her people? Or would she simply do her best to stay out of sight?

“I don’t care what the Nazru do,” was her authentic, if flat, reply. “If the opportunity presented itself for me to feasibly dispose of them I can’t say I wouldn’t take it… but I know my limits. I don’t have that kind of power, and I’ve already learned my lesson on the dangers of thinking that I – or anyone – does.”

For a moment it seemed like she might leave her commentary there, but there was the barest of struggles on her face that betrayed her contemplating mind. Soon enough, she was speaking again. “You know, for all my contempt of her, Sabine and I weren’t all that different. She was obsessed with trying to win Vandrad over because she saw his strength, knew that he had what she needed to secure her family’s place in the world, to crush their enemies and raise her to the station she believed herself worthy of. She didn’t love him; he was merely an effective tool to make her ends meet. Likewise, I suffered through his insufferable mannerisms because he was the first and only person who ever made me believe that maybe, just maybe, if I played my cards right, I could eek out a little corner of independence for myself among people that actually had the power to protect me whenever the Nazru eventually came calling.”

It was a weighty confession, that her feelings for Vandrad – and by extension, his family – might not have run quite so deep as appearances would lead one to believe. Surely she cared for him in her own way, but for a woman that had grown up in the circumstances she had, trust was hard to find and authentic love difficult to believe in. “You want to know the real reason I hate you?” she finally asked, still playing thoughtlessly on the piano, her voice quiet and without any overabundance of anger. “Yeah, you tried to kill Vandrad, but that wasn’t what really bothered me. He was my way out. Or at least, I allowed myself to believe that he was. Sabine almost robbed me of that, and she paid the price, but you were the one pulling the strings, threatening everything that I was working toward…”

“But the truth is, that was never going to last. I knew that from the start. I was just tired of… everything. So I clung to a delusion, told myself there was no harm in playing out a fantasy for a while. I can’t deny that a part of me was curious to explore the more mundane and pedestrian, even romantic, aspects of life that everyone else in the universe takes for granted. I can’t deny that it felt… nice… to feel like someone cared enough to put me first, to fight for me and take care of me, even if it was only temporarily.”

“I told you once that, had we met under different circumstances, it is highly likely that I wouldn’t have taken as much of a position of opposition against you. Outside of the people that I had collected to shield me, I really couldn’t have cared less what you did with everyone else on this backwater planet; between you and the Nazru, it’s slated for destruction no matter what. I find my small joys here and there, but to be perfectly fucking honest with you, all I ever wanted was a way out, and I didn’t particularly care about the how.”

It was a startling and humbling revelation of suicidal ideation, but the Xocili didn’t stop there. “I don’t hate you because you tried to kill Vandrad, or his family. I don’t give a fuck what you do on this planet, Maker. But you had me killed… And then you elected to feed your selfish ambition and brought me back.” Her anger finally rose to the surface and she stood to her feet in a swift and impassioned movement, flinging the keyboard across the room in a fit of fury unlike anything he would have seen from her before.

When she finally turned to look at him, she seemed to be unaware of the moisture in her eyes as she let him see the raw emotions that had been steadily building within her for a very long time, without the filter of her mask. “You robbed me of my freedom twice over: The freedom I was pretending I could have in life, and then the freedom that I had finally achieved in death.”

The tears began to leak down her cheeks as a false smile tugged on her lips, the Xocili laughing quietly and mirthlessly at her own unamusing situation. “You want to know why the Nazru let me live? Why they kept me around? Because it’s really, really stupid. They took delight in the oppression of my people, killing most of us outright, but by the time they came toward the end of our genocide they decided they would reward themselves with a little fun by taking their time in completing the last leg of their mission. They cut us open and installed some organic mass inside of us that they could use to track us, just in case any of us ever got lucky and escaped. They hated a lot of things about us, but one of our biggest crimes was the fact that Xocili bodies can’t scar. Our skin will always, always, heal itself completely of any blemishes after enough time. Every single one of us… except for me. My wound from their little surgery on me never faded… and that made me beautiful.”

“And the truly best part of that is that to this day I have absolutely no idea why I have that scar. It should be genetically impossible. But for a culture that treats such blemishes as a symbol of status, it was all they needed to decide that someday I alone, of all Xocili, could be redeemed. So they kept me alive, raised me and fashioned me into a tool and a weapon, and sent me out into the universe to spread their influence. And until I came here, that was the only existence I knew; until I was stupid enough to let myself believe that I could have more.”

Shaking her head, she peeled her eyes away from him and sank back onto the piano bench where she finally broke down in earnest. Resting her elbows on her knees and her face in her hands, her anger finally gave way to sorrow as she openly wept. “Why did you have to bring me back..?”

It had been a quiet couple of days. Mercury had cast her lure and like a fish Maker hadn't hesitated to be ensnared by it, watching her emotional state crumble and decay before his eyes and jumping at the chance to find opportunity in her seeming moment of weakness. Mercury wasn't an idiot, of course. She had allowed for the possibility that he was more aware of her actions than she wanted. However, she was extremely confident that she had him entirely fooled.

And oh, how he had played the game. Mercury couldn't help but be impressed at how smoothly he had transitioned into a mostly benevolent individual that was all care and tenderness and attentiveness. And despite everything, Mercury couldn't help but feel that not all of his words and actions were truly a front. Sure he was playing up certain things for her benefit, trying to coax her into his corner like a wounded animal, but despite everything she did truly believe that he cared about her in his own selfish, twisted, non-romantic way. Not really for her as an individual, but rather the value she represented in the scientific world. And so he went the extra mile in her moment of depression, reaching out to her both emotionally and physically, even having a brief minute where she had been caught off guard by an astonishingly genuine expression from him that she couldn't describe.

But he had since more or less left her to her own devices, giving her some time with her thoughts to ponder his offer. She still saw him daily and they still worked together on various assignments that he made available, but Mercury had been abnormally quiet. She never spoke unless it was directly related to a project or out of some sort of necessity, though that wasn’t out of any attempt to give him the cold shoulder. If anything, she was a melancholy about her. Sure she performed her work with exemplary results, but the passion and the interest wasn’t really there. It was more like she was going through the motions because there was nothing else she could do, but everything she did and said felt empty. Hollow. Even in the times that she was by herself and he was able to view her through his security set up, the Xocili was consistent in her state of disinterest with… well, everything.

And she wasn’t the only one. Maker had been quiet, too. Not just quiet, but also not quite as… invested in his work as he usually was. She had yet to piece together if that was a show he was putting on for her benefit or if he was genuinely affected by her own mood and the emotional interaction they’d last had. Either way, he did not pressure her about making any kind of decision, carrying on with a semblance of relative normalcy, despite the obvious air of tension and rawness that she was carrying with her.

There had been one major change, however, that he had not picked up on as far as she was aware. For the last two days, it had not been the clone within the bunker but Mercury herself, real and true. Now that he was aware that she was capable of wielding her magic unimpeded – a fact that, if he had questioned at all, she would have admitted had been the case for the vast majority of her months with him since her awakening – there was little reason in not using it from time to time as needed for various work or passing of time. Soon enough, it was no longer necessarily a point of concern if he felt or observed her casting a spell. Sure, there was always the possibility that she could surprise him with a sneak attack of some kind, but that never came to fruition. As such it had made it a fairly simple task for her to swap herself in for her own body double, masking the effort under the guise of another mundane spell that wouldn’t draw too much of his attention.

Vandrad hadn’t been thrilled about the plan, of course. He trusted her and her skills, certainly. This was the kind of work that she had literally been bred for and doing all her life. But they both understood that Maker was still largely an unknown, and by far their biggest threat outside of anything related to Faera and the gods and demons. However, things with the Terran were in a delicate balance now, and the time had come to give it her complete focus, without distraction. She needed to be entirely certain that she had Maker wrapped up in her game and not the other way around.

Her day started as it always did, with the Xocili woken by an internal alarm that helped her keep track of the time, seeing as how there weren’t any windows to allow for real sunlight to judge the passing of time. She was slow to get up and moving, which had become increasingly more common as the months had drawn on, particularly since her little outburst, laying in the bed he’d provided her and simply staring up at the ceiling, though he’d know that she was capable of performing certain functions in her head without the need of a handheld device. Eventually she dragged herself out and to her feet, doffing the tank top of shorts that she typically slept in and changing into a fresh set of clothes for the day. With very little energy, she moved into the bathroom she had been afforded and cleaned herself up, utilizing the facilities and brushing her teeth and hair.

As the strokes of her hairbrush slowed to a stop, she set the tool down and seemed to find herself staring at her reflection in the mirror. Mercury’s expression didn’t change, but after a moment she would turn her head slightly, lifting a hand and running it slowly through her short purple locks with neutral consideration. Her fingers lingered momentarily on the side of her face where Maker had stroked the lavender strands several days prior. Then there was the slightest of shifts, not so much an uplifting of her spirit but it was… something. Through the use of her genetic abilities, her hair began to visibly grow until it was long and lucious, reaching down to her waist. Mercury played with it for a couple minutes in the mirror, fashioning the strands until she was satisfied with the outcome.

Then, she moved on and made her way into the kitchen to grab a cup of coffee and some breakfast, bringing both with her into the lab so she could begin her day. Maker hadn’t arrived yet, though she was sure he was aware she was up and about. He didn’t stay in the bunker, usually retreating at the end of each day to whatever location he had set up as his primary residence and leaving her to her devices for the evenings, but she was certain that he typically woke up earlier than she did and started working on the things that he was keeping out of her reach. Inserting consciousness into the local network, Mercury pulled up some music and turned on the speakers until a track of instrumental soft rock songs filled the room at a medium volume.

With the sound breaking up the silence of the room and providing some relaxing ambiance, she pulled up the new prototype he had her working on and began tinkering away. When Maker did finally join her, she didn’t turn to him or say anything, or even really stop what she was doing, as had been her habit the last few days. However, she did gently switch off the music with a thought, so as to not disturb or distract him.

She didn’t say anything in response to his greeting, the only acknowledgement of his presence being her lowering the volume of the music. His invitation for her to keep it on, however, did at least earn him a small pause, her head shifting just the tiniest bit in his direction without actually looking at him outright. Mercury nodded her understanding when he glanced at her and she turned it back on, though the volume was marginally quieter than it had been. Still loud enough to hear clearly but lower than it was before.

In turning her head, however, she did notice the image he had pulled up on his holographic terminal. Whether out of a sense of curiosity or simply assuming that he’d want a hand, Mercury abandoned the prototype she was working on for the moment. She collected her coffee, the dark liquid still steaming as the rich aroma wafted up to caress her nostrils, and quietly came over to stand near him at the table so she could get a better look. It appeared to be some fragment of metal, as of yet unidentified.

“Earthland?” she asked, her voice finally breaking the air to inquire as to the origins of the item, or at least where he had discovered it. Mercury was already scanning the image with her eyes, visually downloading all the data and running it through her immense databases and universal access for any hits. Whether he knew where the metal was from or not, she would nod again in quiet understanding. “I don’t recognize it offhand. I’m running it through some searches, but it will take some time. Any theories..?” Even for her, swimming through so much universal data wouldn’t result in a snap answer, though she could certainly process the information much faster than just about any computer known to mankind.

She lifted the cup to her face and blew softly on the surface of the dark liquid inside before pressing it to her lips and taking a sip. Her eyes glanced idly around and settled briefly on the reflective surface of a nearby monitor that had yet to be turned on, where she caught a more full look at his face. He was wearing a white lab coat, which was not unlike him, but the glasses were new. Did they serve some kind of purpose, she wondered, or was this simply a fashion choice like Vandrad occasionally made? Not that she would complain either way. Much like her fiance, Maker was all the more attractive with the thin spectacles and she found her attention lingering on his reflection perhaps a touch longer than she’d really meant. That, and the nice business-like attire that he wore beneath. Stars, she was a sucker for a well dressed person.

Setting her hormones and side and keeping herself focused, Mercury cradled the mug gently against her chest. “This is good.” It was the first non-work related comment she’d made in days, the Xocili indicating quietly to the liquid in her hands. She’d recently be running low on her stocks of the stuff and, given that she relied on Maker to supply her with sustenance, had humbly asked him to bring some. He hadn’t skimped on the request, getting a hold of some higher quality beans for her instead of just the basic stuff, though she hadn’t really asked him to go that far. “Thank you.”

There was a pregnant silence as she lingered next to him, despite the fact that there was little she could do to help with the shard he was examining until her search had run its course. Then, after a moment of weighted silence, she spoke again. “Hey, can I… ask you a question? I’ve been wondering something for a while and hadn’t really been able to reach my own conclusion on my own. At this point it just… seems simpler to ask you outright and hope you’ll be honest with me. You’re not… planning on turning me into some weird, bio-synthetic, alchemical hermaphrodite, are you?”

With her question posed, she finally turned just enough to look at him, really the first time she’d made direct eye contact for longer than a second or two in some time, her face not on him fully but her emerald eyes lifted enough to establish the connection. While it was certainly a comical question objectively, the straightness of her expression conveyed that she wasn’t asking for comedic purposes.

He answered her question about the shard with… well, a whole lot of non-information, confirming he had brought the artifact to Earthland and had a theory that he wasn’t beholden to just yet without actually telling her what the theory was. While her expression remained stoic she couldn’t help the internal amused eye roll that went through her mind. Keeping her thoughts to herself on the matter for now, she instead turned the attention briefly to the coffee, allowing herself a moment to catch him a little off guard with a non-essential related topic, the first such she’d made in some time. Mercury thanked him for the items he’d provided, maintaining her low energy despite the fact that, in truth, he’d brought her some really good shit that she was going to want to take home after her time in the bunker was over.

He accepted her gratitude graciously, turning to look at her almost at the same time that she was viewing his reflection in the monitor. Maker was only just noticing the change she’d made to her hair, it seemed. He studied the follicles briefly with no indication as to if he was doing so from a scientific standpoint or a more base one. It was possible it was both. But, after a couple moments of staring at it he made no comments and asked no questions, instead turning his attention back to the table, only for her to draw his attention back with her odd question.

It took a moment for the Terran to have a response, his mind likely scrambling to figure out what in the hell she was talking about until he finally turned to meet her gaze. With a completely straight face he remarked that he wouldn’t be anymore, not now that she had ruined the surprise. It took everything in Mercury’s power to hold her tongue and not make a joke back, reminding herself that she needed to be playing a part. But boy was it funny. Using the moment as a means to help break the ice a little more, she turned away only a beat after he did. “Yeah, I gathered as much, thanks,” was her dry remark to his admission that it was a joke. She had the barest of wry smirks on her lips, the first such expression of any kind of positive emotion she’d show in days, even if it only lasted for a second or two before disappearing as quickly as it had come.

He reiterated his prior statements from their previous conversation about his viewpoint on her as a species and an evolutionary wonder, claiming in not so many words that Project Rebis had been a former attempt of his to create a being such as herself in the past. Or at least, as much as one could create a living creature without the ability to fabricate a soul. However, ever since she’d entered the picture the project had fallen to the wayside as she was a far more complex, harmonious, and naturally existing individual that was far superior to what he was attempting to create. Doubling down, he assured her that he had no place to perform any weird surgeries involving her genitals, remarking that if she really wanted a phallus of some kind she could likely craft one herself using her magic. Which was entirely correct, of course, but in the interest of presenting herself as a woman struggling to come out of the shell she had hidden herself into, she elected not to comment.

Mercury was mid sip when he finally chose to remark upon her hair, complimenting the change. Seemingly without thought, she reached up a freehand and brushed some of it back from her face without looking at him. “Thanks…”

That would seem to be the end of it, though in truth this was all just a lead-in to open up other topics of dialogue. The Terran opened up a few other pages of research even as he asked if her question was an example of the projects that she had gotten into without his permission, clearly more amused than upset with her. He admitted his understanding toward her concern about that, asking outright if she was willing to relay what other things she had gotten into. Maker was being playful with her, if gently, likely trying to do his part to coax her out and honestly looking a bit more lively than he had the last few days. Mercury looked up at him for a couple long seconds, meeting his eyes with her emerald ones in quiet contemplation and consideration.

Eventually, she looked back down at the cup of coffee in her hands. “I don’t think you can really consider that one peer reviewed. I wasn’t able to access anything but the project name. The name itself was just niche enough to make an educated guess as to the contents.” Another beat of silence went by before she let out a soft exhale of a sigh from her nostrils. Relenting, Mercury summoned a tablet and offered it to him. There, he would be able to review exactly what projects she had gotten into without his knowledge, and how far into them she had gone. Not only that, but he would see that the vast majority of them were ones that she had completed on her own, the time stamps showing that many of the problems and solutions had been solved for several months and just not shared with him – including one where he had been trying to make changes to his personal mainframe that would make it almost ironclad against being hacked, even by herself.

Turning around, she stayed nearby but leaned back against the edge of the table, still holding the warm mug in her hands as she waited for him to review everything. “I can fabricate more of that metal shard, too, if you want extra pieces to play with. As long as you have the molecular composition of it for me to download, I can use my magic to make as many authentic pieces as you want.”

Whether he provided any commentary or questions about her work or not, there would be several long beats of silence before she spoke again. “How would you do it..?” Mercury asked him quietly, almost timidly. “The Nazru are… nigh invulnerable. And there’s billions of them. Your offer is a lot of really pretty words, but I don’t see how any one person is capable of taking them all out once and for all…” It was her attempt at revisiting their prior conversation, starting with what was honestly the biggest question. He had put himself on the table as a solution, but she had been under the thumb and control of the Nazru for a very long time. Like any slave, she had been raised and conditioned to not question her place in life, to accept her circumstances as they were, and to believe that her handlers were so far above her that they were untouchable. If she was going to truly consider him as a viable option for freedom, she needed some kind of reassurance that he could do as he said he could.

He gave her a curious look as she summoned a tablet for him, the device giving him a full list of exactly how much trouble she’d been getting into behind his back, which was significantly more than he’d been giving her credit for. Mercury didn’t meet his gaze when he looked back to her and remarked upon how busy she’d been, nor did she say anything in response. Instead, she briefly turned her attention to his current project, offering to recreate the material for his use if he needed more samples to work with. Maker assured her he didn’t need any more pieces, stating that it was part of a larger whole of which he was trying to puzzle out. The artifact was one of a kind, as he put it, something that he self admitted that he seemed to be a collector of. There was perhaps a sideways glance at the statement, but no other response from her.

Instead, after giving him a few minutes to poke around through the work she’d been doing, Mercury finally asked him about what plan he had, if any, for dealing with the Nazru. Once more the Terran gave her his attention as she elaborated, uncertain what he could really do to help her with the issue. Maker considered her quietly for a moment before offering her tablet back, the Xocili taking it gently with her free hand. Then, he turned back to the table and dismissed the prior display, replacing it with what appeared to be some type of statistical or mathematical chart. Mercury stayed leaning as she was against the table but did adjust her position so she could turn more comfortably to view the information.

Magic seemed to be his baseline solution. He explained that he had actively avoided the Nazru in his romps through the universe, but that didn’t mean he had ignored them entirely. He had a rough idea of their numbers, though how accurate the information was was anyone’s guess, but the Nazru had left a trail enough in the wake of their constant destruction that he had found plenty to study and analyze. And while their reputation was certainly nothing to scoff at, their egoism could easily become their downfall.

Her attention was drawn to his hand as he flicked a wrist and summoned a miniature electrical storm in his palm. It was Mercury’s turn to tilt her head with a slight if curious frown as he manipulated the energy to different elements. It dawned on her that it was Energy Monarch magic. It wasn’t too surprising. After all, if he could temporarily transfer such magic to Patricia then he could certainly transfer it to himself for a longer term. It was obvious from her expression that she recognized it, even if it was a different color than what she was used to with Vandrad and Scourge, but otherwise her expression was unreadable.

She remained quiet as he dismissed the power and informed her that he wouldn’t do it alone. He said that he was able to transmit his magical abilities into the fabricated clones that she’d helped him with. With enough time and work, as well as her assistance, he could create an entire army of his own doubles and use the duplicates to launch a war against the Nazru the likes of which they’d never recover from. And in the process, if they found any other remnants of her people they could rescue and rehabilitate them, find another world to call home where she could live amongst her kin. Or, she also had the option of staying with him.

Mercury looked up at him again, her eyes locked on his with a questioning, searching expression as if trying to deduce what exactly he had meant by that. She held the gaze for a couple seconds before it dropped once more, and she said nothing for a moment as she seemingly struggled to process her thoughts.

“They do have access to magic.” She dropped the news as softly as she could. Mercury set her tablet down and crossed her free arm over the other that held her cup of coffee, a guilty demeanor swallowing up her body language. “Part of my job is to help them determine if a world will be left alone or slated for invasion. They were curious about magic and wanted me to determine if it was organic or synthetic. Naturally, the answer was both. They acquired a number of artifacts through me for study… including flesh peeled from magic users. It’s entirely possible they’ve already learned to graft magic into themselves. Naturally as a slave they wouldn’t tell me any of that, but… I’ve run the numbers several times. I would be surprised if a few of them hadn’t taken the chance.”

It was a slight alteration to the truth, perhaps, but technically everything she had told him was factual, even if it was now more of a historical event rather than a current one. “I have not told them that I have magic, of course. I’ve tried very hard to hide that ever since I acquired my abilities, masking my magic use with tools so that people assume I am a holder or summoner mage rather than a caster. It was a tactic I used both to throw off my enemies here on Earthland as well as to protect myself from the Nazru; I stopped sending in reports to them a long time ago. They’ll send someone for me eventually, if they haven’t already. If I’m lucky, they’ll have heard that I’m dead and moved on without me… but luck is a rarity for me.”

The last statement wasn’t so much a pity party as it was an even statement of fact, Mercury taking another long swig from her coffee to try and cover the insecurity that she felt was written all over her face. When she finished, she held the mug low, gently swirling its contents in an idle circular motion as she seemed to stare off at the floor. “Honestly, Maker, I just… I don’t know what you’re trying to accomplish here. You’re not stupid. You have to understand that this… all of this… it’s too good to be true. I mean, eradicating the Nazru? Forming some kind of equal partnership? I’ve lived long enough to know that’s just… not how the universe works. And I mean this as respectfully as possible, but it’s all bit altruistic coming from someone that…” Her voice trailed off for a moment, before finished her sentence. “Coming from you.”

Mercury met his eyes again. There was a complete lack of enmity as she truly wasn’t trying to take a jab at him, but he himself had already expressed that he wasn’t the empathic sort. Pretty much the only reason she was willing to buy it at all was because he had, at the very least, made it clear that he valued her highly for what she represented to the evolutionary world, but even that knowledge would only prove her point: His respect for her was still more of her as a thing, not necessarily as a thinking, feeling person. And while she was certainly morally gray at best and not exactly the most law abiding or life respecting person in the universe, she did possess at least some range of emotion that he claimed he didn’t have.

Shaking her head slightly, she looked away again. “I guess I just don’t know what you want me to say. I don’t know what I want to do with my life. I’ve never had one before. Never truly had the luxury of even thinking about it. Even in all my time with Vandrad I tried not to think about it too much because in the back of my mind I always knew it was a long shot at best, and I didn’t want to get my hopes up too far. I just… want to live without the constant threat of death looming over me every second, without feeling like my every move is being watched… and being able to make my own choices as they happen. And unless you’re planning on telling me there’s some big gesture I can do to earn your trust – or you, mine – I just don’t see how any of this would work out the way you’re pitching it to me.”

He took the news that the Nazru had gained access to magic relatively well, all things considered. It certainly would have been a concern had her slavers not already been dealt with. Maker admitted the news was troubling but that he could still work with it. Already he was off, plunking away at his calculations and trying to swerve with the new information, factoring it into his plans.

However, his train of thought was derailed by Mercury speaking up once more, asking him outright what exactly he was trying to accomplish in this sale to her. Maker was silent as she spoke her piece, practically frozen over his keyboard and unable to even really turn to look at her. Ultimately she expressed how she was just having trouble seeing this all working out the way he claimed he wanted it to, and Maker didn’t have much hesitation in his response as he reminded her that up until this point she had been viewing his actions from the perspective of someone allied with Vandrad.

As he put it, he was aware of the unfairness of life, claiming that his own people put him up on a pedestal of expectation and treated him like a tool for their benefit. His siblings were given free choice to do what they wished with their lives, but his path had been determined for him and he had not been given any alternatives. He admitted it likely sounded ridiculous to her, doing his best to assure her that he wasn’t attempting to compare their respective origins or put himself on the same level of abuse as what she’d endured with slavery, but to him it felt very similar to what he imagined slavery to be. And truthfully, Mercury wasn’t offended. She could understand where he was coming from, if it was the truth and not some tale he was spinning merely to paint himself as the victim in an attempt to win her over. A gilded cage was still a cage. She didn’t think that was any excuse to sacrifice his entire world full of people…

But that was not a conversation she could have at present.

So instead she continued to listen quietly, giving him her gentle attention as he admitted that he hadn’t wanted to cage her. Maker’s voice was halting and almost unsure of himself as he explained that he’d simply held her in such high respect, finding her to be an equal match for him, finding challenges in her that he’d never gotten from anyone else. Honestly, it was starting to feel a lot like what Vandrad had told her long ago when he’d first started opening up about his real feelings for her. And while Mercury couldn’t say that it was doing anything to truly sway her toward Maker, she… had to admit to herself that she was having trouble ascertaining how much of this was fiction. While she couldn’t claim to outright be able to catch someone in a falsehood like Mythal could, she was capable of reading a person’s vitals to make an extremely accurate guess, and a lot of this was feeling much more authentic than she had originally been banking on.

Because of that she was returning his look with an expression of confusion, surprise, and uncertainty that was quite genuine. He apologized for having lied to her and informed her that the truth was it was more than just her race that had amazed him, but rather she herself. Mercury had left her mark on him, and he just wanted to do right by her. The Xocili was increasingly aware of the slight but noticeable blush that had rushed to her cheeks, finding herself having trouble keeping her eyes on his as he finally turned to look at her face on, both standing there awkwardly like two teenagers on a doorstep trying to say goodnight.

Maker reiterated her desire for freedom, as well as his desire to help her achieve it. He said there were still kinks to iron out, but he had faith that the two of them putting their heads together would result in a solution as long as they could both at least try to work toward a better understanding and trust of one another. Furthermore, he was willing to take steps to prove himself, the Terran reaching down to fuss with a couple settings on his wrist band before holding his hand out for her to take. Mercury’s emerald gaze flicked down to the offered limb hesitantly, even as he asked that she at least trust him for a few seconds longer to give him a chance.

She studied him briefly, truly overwhelmed by the mixture of emotions that were assailing her in that moment. Finally, Mercury quietly set down her coffee and took his hand timidly. When she did so, he pressed one more button on his wristband and they were teleported to a new location. She looked around to take stock of her new surroundings, her sensors scrambling to try and ascertain just how far they had gone from the bunker. They stood in a cave of some sort, and it wouldn’t take long for her attention to be captivated by the sight of a truly awe-inspiring looking castle. It was extremely old, with multiple levels and jagged peaks, all of which were in an obvious state of disrepair. Was this his main base of operation, she wondered?

Before her thoughts could even get too far ahead, he once more started fussing with his device, talking about some camouflage setting that it had taken him the better part of a year to override. The metal he had been analyzing had come from this structure, which he referred to as a race. It drew a frown of confusion from her, Maker admitting that what he was studying was not necessarily metal, but more like a scale, hitting one more setting on his wristband to allow her to see the thing in its true form.

A shift in her peripheral vision drew her attention back to the castle, only to find it missing. In its place was an incalculably large ship that appeared to be organic in nature, covered in scales and emanating a warm orange light from within. Mercury’s breath audibly caught in her throat as she gasped softly in authentic wonder. She took a step closer out of instinct, zooming her gaze in as far as it could go to try and get a better look. Her mind and sensor were racing, trying to collect as much information as she could from where she stood while Maker explained that this thing, whatever it was, had called to him from space. He was certain that it was dead, or at least brain dead, but it was still operable. The best comparison he could make was that it was a living ship, which drew mixed feelings from Mercury. The Nazru utilized similar such ships.. But while the Nazru’s ships had been organic, they had not been sentient. This was something else entirely.

But the true show of her acting skills was when he asked her if she knew what an Ancient One was. Her brain came to a screeching halt, a number of uncomfortable and recent memories trying to claw their way up to her head. The barest flickering of red and black eyes tickled the back of her mind… but she stubborning and firmly stamped it all down, somehow keeping her cool and not allowing her inner thoughts to show on her face. Instead, she frowned curiously and forced herself to pull her gaze away from the breathtaking view to look at Maker. “Ancient Ones..?” Mercury shook her head softly. “No, never. What are they..?”

Mercury simply had no idea the length and depth of the answer that Maker was about to give her, nor just exactly how complicated her position was about to become on… well, everything. Maker explained a bit about some of the things that Genesis had already revealed to her some time ago, about how Maker had increased his knowledge to the point where his mortal, non-mechanical brain simply could not bear the weight of it. During this period of time he had become aware of the Time Before. Mercury listened to his explanation quietly, carefully playing the part of ignorance up until he got to parts that she did not know. As he explained his people had warred and split into two separate factions, one of which delved into the depths of the planet’s surface where they discovered traces of the Ancient Ones.

Similarly, he claimed that he had been made aware of the lingering presence as well and that was when he had found the ship that now rested before them. At this point his mind was on the verge of imploding within itself from all the knowledge he couldn’t contain, and Maker claimed that the ship – while no longer sentient – seemed to sense his struggle and provided a means to assist him so he wouldn’t perish. It did so by creating a receptacle of some kind that he could funnel his excess knowledge into, bearing the weight that he could not. He spent a year studying the ship and learning as much as he could from its degraded mainframes.

What he had discovered was a hauntingly familiar tale. In their former life, these creatures had existed in a completely different form, but the Ancient Ones had culled them to near extinction. The ones they had let live were turned into these living vessels, forced to do much the same type of work as Mercury herself had done at the hands of the Nazru. The Xocili watched him carefully, her expression neutral but in her mind she was scrutinizing him for any sign that any of this could be some falsehood fabricated to gather pity and empathy out of her. It was almost too on the nose, but at the same time… it wasn’t necessarily impossible. She certainly didn’t claim to be the only oppressed individual in the universe, and at this point she was more than well aware of the Time Before and the existence of the Ancient Ones.

Maker turned his gaze to her and explained that when the Time Before ended, nearly everything in its reality had been destroyed. However, according to the information he found on the ship, the remnants of their race joined forces to ensure that at least one of them survived, even if it was broken and degraded. He wasn’t sure what their reasons behind doing so were, but he did know that it had seen him when he most needed help and provided the resources he required to save his life, and probably his sanity. As far as he could tell, that was simply what the ship was designed to do: meet necessity, whatever that may be.

There was a shift then as Maker acknowledged how similar much of this was to Mercury’s own history, admitting that this was likely an uncomfortable position for her to be in. But it was his honesty about it that he was hoping would help to earn her trust. For her part, she didn’t respond in regard to the comparison, though her gaze flicked away briefly in seeming discomfort over the topic before meeting his again.

Continuing on, he explained how he had come into possession of all the exterior knowledge in the first place, a feat he claimed to not be proud of: the All-Knowing. Truthfully, Mercury was surprised that he was bringing it up at all. She figured it was a topic she’d have to work for some time to coax him into talking to her about. But as they were both apparently discovering, things were not working out the way she had been planning for. The All-Knowing, as he described, was a way of increasing the mental processing power of one or more individuals. However, it required a significant sacrifice to achieve. He had informed the government and his superiors about the discovery, supposedly in an interest to avoid its use by anyone in the future, but according to him his superiors had gone worst case scenario and decided that they wanted to use it for themselves. What they specifically wanted to do was use the races of other worlds as the sacrifices, publicly claiming that Maker would help raise their civilizations as a universal world power.

Mercury was surprised by the display of anger on his face at this point in his tale, but even more surprised that it appeared to be authentic. It was only his brothers that were outspoken against the plan alongside him, even the rest of his family in support of utilizing the All-Knowing to their own benefit. Halcyon had taken steps to try and prevent it and paid for his crime with exile. Minotia – Blade – had been too afraid to intervene directly until nearly the very end, something that Blade himself had admitted when he’d told his own version of things… though it was here that Mercury found a rather odd discrepancy. Maker called his brother Minotia, but when Genesis had greeted the other brother he’d called him Raeran. There was always the possibility that Raeran was more of a respectful title than anything else, but Blade’s response had been very clear that he no longer “went by that name”. While Mercury hadn’t been able to understand most of Genesis’ greeting to Blade, since it had been in a language she didn’t speak, she was certain that nothing in the statement had even remotely resembled Minotia.

It was a curious piece of information that she tucked away for the time being and, at least for the moment, didn’t turn it into anything bigger. Little would come from trying to extrapolate her own guesses and fill in information without proof. So instead she kept listening in attentive silence as he explained that his government had taken the project into their own hands, making adjustments and doing everything in their power to keep him from interfering. He responded by doing the only thing he could think to do: trying to force the All-Knowing to absorb itself.

The result, according to him, was the catastrophe of the entire planet being targeted instead, something he had not calculated as a possibility. All life on the planet was consumed in one fell swoop, and he had been the sole survivor to receive the knowledge. While he continued to admit that he wasn’t much for empathy, he still knew the difference between right and wrong. What his government had been attempting was unforgivable, but he claimed to recognize his part in everything being allowed to happen, accepting responsibility for it. He couldn’t change it, either. All the knowledge he had been granted was more than enough to confirm that it was impossible, and as a result he had disowned himself. Minotia, who had survived, did eventually return to confront him and Maker claimed that he lied and cast himself as a knowing and purposeful villain as Blade had considered him to already be, foregoing his birth name and taking on the moniker of Maker.

There were some things that still didn’t quite measure up, and Mercury would address them eventually, but she was distracted by something completely unexpected: Maker was crying. His face was relatively neutral, but there was a passion in his eyes that betrayed the validity of the emotions that he couldn’t keep at bay, and it put Mercury at a loss. There again was always the possibility that he was just an extremely capable liar, but if he was anything like her – and more than anything, Mercury was frighteningly aware of how similar they truly were – he would be peppering his lies into greater truths. She couldn’t help but conclude that while she had no idea how close to reality his tale was… it was obvious that he believed it.

Mercury looked at him in wary silence for a long moment, struggling with how to respond. Even with people that she knew and trusted, she wasn’t always great at handling these kinds of situations, despite how much she’d grown in the last few years. After collecting her thoughts enough to center herself, she finally acted. Reaching out, and assuming he didn’t stop her, she apprehensively took him by the hand. In the same motion, she materialized a metal bench that was just big enough for two people to sit side by side, drawing him gently over to it and taking a seat, kindly guiding him to take the spot next to her. “I’m sorry,” she told him softly. “For all the death I’ve caused… and there’s a great deal of that which I am responsible for, believe me… I can’t imagine what that experience must have been like, or the kind of scars it put on you.”

Presuming he hadn’t pulled it away, Mercury would continue to hold his hand gently, even rubbing the back of his palm in a soothing, if uncertain, manner in an attempt to be comforting. Allowing him another couple of beats to collect himself, she spoke up once more. “What happened to your brothers..? It sounds like Minotia survived at least. Any idea where he is now? What about Halcyon?”

Understandably, he was surprised by her physical gesture. However, he didn’t protest her leading him to a place to sit, the Xocili speaking what little words of comfort she could. She knew all too well what it felt like to be in his position, and there wasn’t anything she could say that would make him feel better. In a way, she didn’t want him to. Not out of any desire for him to hurt, but rather knowing that the pain was a meaningful and important process of healing and acceptance. Brushing it aside or trying to bury it under happier platitudes would be disrespectful to the tragedy that had taken place.

He offered brief words of consolation of his own toward her similar situation, faltering as he tried to assure her that he wasn’t trying to make it all about himself. He simply wasn’t very practiced at opening up. “I don’t think many people are good at it. Stars know I’m not… though I think I’ve had more opportunities to practice over the last couple years than you have.” Mercury smirked at him a little, the gesture more kind and reassuring than teasing.

Using his free hand, Maker wiped his face to dry it, and Mercury used the lull to ask about his brothers. Most of his story had more or less lined up with Blade’s, aside from the one glaring discrepancy, but he had been curiously silent on what fate had befallen Halcyon in particular whom Blade had said he’d found dead at Maker’s feet. Mercury was interested to know how Maker would explain his other brother’s death, if at all, and once again found his story didn’t necessarily conflict with Blade’s. He confirmed that Halcyon had returned to the planet to confront him and as a result had been swallowed up by the All Knowing, while Minotia had dedicated his life to hunting Maker, even here on Earthland.

The Engineer admitted that he held no ill will toward Blade for taking the stance that he had against him. He hoped to build enough of a reputation to scare his brother into doing something else with his life, but Blade had persisted. All Maker could do was his best to stay ahead of him, impressing upon her with unmistakable sincerity that he held zero desire to kill or even fight Minotia. He would imprison his brother if he had to, but he would not take his life.

Nodding toward the ship, Maker informed her that he had brought her here because he wanted to show her the inside in hopes that it would further help build trust with her… or at the very least give her more to look at than the empty, sunless walls of the bunker. He explained that they were in a pocket dimension, which he created using Earthland’s magic in order to have a true safehouse for him and the ship. It had taken him some time to craft a place where a living being could also survive, but the finished product was impressive and effective to say the least. He could also make it look however he wanted, and to demonstrate he snapped his fingers, causing the atmosphere to change to a starry night sky.

“Don’t you try to distract me with attempts to sweep me off my feet.” It was her first true tease in days, the closest return to form and seeming life she’d had since her outburst. The Xocili smirked in earnest before looking up at the sky very much like she hadn’t seen it for months, a gentle look of peace on her face. Her attention was only pulled away when he put his other hand on top of their conjoined ones. Maker admitted that he knew there was no sure gesture that would get her to let go of her suspicions. And truthfully, that worked both ways as she likely would have to work to belay his misgivings as well. It would take time and effort, but he was willing to put those miles in in order to see what good they could do for the universe if they put their minds together.

Their eyes met, and Mercury simply couldn’t help the warm shiver that went down her spine from the way he was looking at her. Once more he complimented her, reassuring her of his desire to help her attain her freedom. At this point if he was lying, Mercury almost didn’t care. If this was all just a complex game of manipulation between them it frankly only made him more attractive to her, and despite everything she really was a sucker for a man that actively tried to rise above his worser nature to express a gentler side to her, and the true blush on her face betrayed exactly what his look was doing to her. Unfortunately, they were on a roll and she didn’t want to waste the opportunity she had for him to be open with her.

“And… what about your own freedom..?” she asked him quietly, her gaze softening. “Is all of this really what you want?” Mercury nodded toward the ship, indicating that she was specifically referencing his work. “I’m sorry, I know you want to take my inside, and believe me I want few things more than to let you do that. But while we’re here and we’re talking, I just… I think I need to ask, because I’m not sure I can start to reconsider my trust in you until I hear your answer. You said that you weren’t given a choice in your place on your homeworld, that you began to call yourself Maker as a representation of choosing your destiny… but from what I can see, you are still living the life you say was chosen for you.”

With a gentle flick of her free wrist, she summoned a number of monitors and screens in front of them. Each held a news tabloid or galactic warrant of some kind depicting many of his more well known universal crimes, things he had done after Teras Prime had been destroyed. “You could stop. You could pick a different life for yourself. As far as I can see, you no longer have anyone keeping you under their thumb, telling you what to do and who to be. Why do you choose to continue to play the part Minotia and everyone else expects of you? To live an existence that, from what I gather, doesn’t necessarily make you happy?”

It was a weighty question, and one that surely would put him on the spot a bit, but Mercury meant it when she said that she needed an answer. He could paint pretty words and a heartbreaking story all day, but that didn’t put everything else she knew about him in a neat and tidy bow of understanding. And the way she looked at him, without judgment or suspicion, made it apparent that this was not any attempt to call him on any perceived hypocrisy but rather to give him a chance to explain the things that still weren’t adding up for her.

He seemed to be unaware of how his alteration to the atmosphere could be perceived, looking up in surprise as she remarked on his attempt to woo her under a starry night sky. His  revelation was quickly followed by the insinuation that the act appeared to be working, whether intentional or not. Mercury chuckled softly. “Well, don’t go patting yourself too hard on the back. I think it’s well established by this point that I’m not exactly the most difficult woman to bed.” It was a further teasing comment, but by her tone it wasn’t meant to dissuade him. Afterall, she hadn’t denied that she had been charmed. If anything, she’d confirmed it.

However, as curious as she was to see where that particular topic of conversation might go, she knew she had to stay on topic a bit longer, even if it risked killing the mood of the moment as the two of them shared a longing look with one another. If Mercury had noticed him start to lean closer to her there was no evidence of it on her face as she instead summoned her monitors and prompted him to explain the plethora of warrants and media stories that he’d collected over the years from various other planets. The way she saw it, he was still living the life that he detested, and she wanted to know why.

Maker was quiet for a long moment, picking up one of the screens and idly glancing over the article. He explained that he had attempted numerous times to create a different life for himself, even claiming that he’d once built a solitary home for himself on a moon in the hopes of staying off the grid. However, things had always wound up pulling him back into the system. According to him, he tried to fight it but at the same time he understood that he was good at what he did. Furthermore, he did enjoy enacting justice upon those that deserved it, even if it came at the unfortunate cost of innocents. His actions, he claimed, were always in an attempt to make the universe a better, safer place for as many people as possible, inserting himself into numerous criminal organizations and corrupt governments, trying to tear them down from the inside, including the Dread Masters.

He told her that he didn’t take any pride in it, but he did enjoy hurting people that have forced their influence on others; a remark he admitted was a bit contradictory, considering her current situation under his control, but at the end of the day Maker insisted that he just wanted everyone to experience freedom from oppression, and if he could achieve that then maybe he’d feel less empty. The Terran’s head dropped as he expressed that she had likely been hoping for a different answer, but assured her he was speaking the truth. “I wasn’t looking for any kind of answer except an honest one,” she replied kindly.

There was a beat or two of silence before she spoke up again. “It’s a noble pursuit, Maker. Truly. But realistically, it’s not attainable. I certainly don’t mean to say that the effort shouldn’t be made, because it’s important to try. I just… don’t think it’s fair to yourself to take on that kind of burden. No matter what bad things you’ve done in the past, it’s not your responsibility to try to fix the rest of the universe in an attempt to atone.”

Mercury glanced away for a moment, her gaze turning up to the stars. The look on her face was sad and solemn, yes, but there was also a peaceful acceptance in her tone as she continued. “I have wrought the destruction of entire worlds six times over. For the longest time that didn’t really bother me, if only because I kept moving forward and refused to allow myself time to think about it. Plus, unlike you, I was never there when it happened. I did my part, gave my reports, and moved on when I was told to do so without ever looking back. I was able to detach myself from it for years. Unfortunately, even someone like me can only spend so much time with people such as the du Wolffs without changing to some degree. I won’t claim to be the most altruistic individual. My sense of morality is still more gray than anything else, and my empathy skills could certainly use a bit more work… "

“But I’ve been trying to learn how to forgive myself… because even if the Nazru are defeated I will never truly be free if I’m still controlled by my past. Not that it’s easy, mind you. But I guess the point I’m trying to make here is that if someone like me can learn to do it, then so can you… and I think you’re intelligent and talented and… strong enough… to learn how to fight your enemies without living as one of them. I’d even go so far to say there are few in the universe, if any, who would be as capable as you are at doing so.”

She finally looked back down at him with a soft, reassuring smile, her emerald eyes glistening with understanding. If anyone knew what it was like to be in his position it was her. Mercury still had no idea how much of this interaction between them was genuine, and how much of it was just… two crafty enemies circling each other, waiting for the right time to strike… but she hoped it was honest, and aside from certain lies that she had to maintain for the time being Mercury was earnestly doing her best to otherwise be as real and true with him as possible. She could only hope that he would take her words to heart and give them some thought.

Mercury drew in a deep breath to recenter herself. “So! Still want to show me the inside of your big, magnificent, brain dead space ship, or have you come to your senses and decided to throw me back in the bunker so you don’t have to put up with me for a while?”

“Yeah, he hates nothing more than complimenting me. Mostly because I lord it over his head.” Mercury smirked back at Maker.

He told her that he would give her musings some thought, of which he’d now have a lot to do. Frankly, Mercury still had lots more questions, but… she felt she’d pressed her luck enough for now. It was time to move on, if only because she really, really wanted to see the inside of that ship. She teased him about whether or not he was ready to dump her back in her windowless cell, only for him to retort that he was more likely to throw her in a bed now that he had the notion in his head. And, as luck would have it, there was a bed on the ship. She was grinning like a cheshire cat. “Promises, promises.”

But before they could take that topic any further, he pressed another button on his wristband and they were once again teleported, this time inside the ship. It appeared to be the bridge, and frankly it was breathtaking. It was an open space with a vaulted ceiling, perfectly symmetrical with elegant bars and a multilayer floor design, and a large window to the outside. Unable to resist, Mercury turned slowly where she stood, looking all around her and taking in the first sight of it before approaching the main console. Without touching any buttons, she gently ran her fingertips along the strange metallic surface of the central hub like it was made of fine porcelain, indeed finding that its composition was more akin to scales than anything else.

“Hello, beautiful…” she whispered to the ship, though not so quietly that Maker wouldn’t hear it. Maker remarked about the hum of the engine, the last vestiges of life of the creature it once was. He joined her up by the front, the ship sensing his approach and shifting to create a seat for him, a number of holographic screens flickering to life. “Would you… let me try to interface with it? I promise I won’t try to snoop on anything, I just…” Her voice trailed off for a second, the Xocili completely enraptured. “I want to see what it feels like.”

Presuming he wasn’t against her attempting to do so, Mercury came back around to the front of the console near where Maker was standing and placed her hand flat on the panel. Closing her eyes to focus, she wirelessly linked herself up to the system and dove in with her mind. It was unlike anything she had ever experienced before. Though its hardware and set up didn’t seem overly complicated, nothing was connected in any kind of biological or binary language that she could understand; a rarity for her. Given time she could probably unlock many of its secrets as Maker had, but that wasn’t what she was trying to do here. She just wanted to experience it, get a feel for its craftsmanship, and see if she could find any trace of its sentience in a way that perhaps Maker was incapable of as a non-synthetic person.

Unfortunately, it was well and truly deceased. It was still warm and operable, its heart still beating… but there was no intelligence in what life remained inside of it. Mercury wasn’t even aware of the saddened expression that touched her face for the briefest of moments, the disappointment in confirming that there was nothing buried beneath the surface that might recognize and stir at the presence of another being similar to itself.

Finally, she fluttered her eyes open once more, withdrawing from the connection. “What a tragic loss…” Mercury’s emotional center was cool and collected, but it was clear she had been moved by the understanding and wonder of the depths of knowledge and experience this creature could have offered to people like them during its time. With a soft sigh through her nostrils, she turned to look around once more, her eyes almost unable to keep still from how much there was to see. “Maker, this is stunning. I understand now why you choose to retreat here. If I were in your shoes, it would be difficult to convince me to leave. And hiding it in a pocket universe is genius, honestly. A perfect way to keep it safe… and also explains why we always had such an impossible time tracking you down.”

She cast him another wry smirk.