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The City was busier than ever. Soldiers and civilians alike flooded the streets as everyone did their part in preparing for the biggest event in their recorded history. The plan was set. In two weeks, Ouroboros and their allies would launch their final attack against Moebius, storming ‘Origin’, an ark that rested within the great maelström of Aionios’ center that served as their opponent’s den. Nobody knew what to expect. Their enemy was a force beyond comprehension. But despite that, there was an unshakable determination among the ranks. The City stood as an embodiment of the human spirit, and nothing was going to stop humanity from giving their oppressors everything they had.
Shania was sitting on a bench. Resting a foot on her knee and leaning back, she watched as kids and adults walked and ran by. Next to her sat Miyabi, resting her eyes. The two had just finished eating dinner at a nearby restaurant and had gone for a subsequent walk through the park. It had been their final date. As an ally to Ouroboros, Miyabi had responsibilities to attend to, which meant gradually less and less time with her partner. It ate at them both, even if they both knew it was inevitable.
“I’m not ready.” Shania suddenly said. Miyabi, instantly comforting, rested her head on Shania’s shoulder and wrapped her hand around her partner’s.
“I don’t think anyone really is.” She said. “Even after experiencing oblivion myself, it’s not something one can prepare for. And now it’s the whole world we strive to end.” She sighed, internally lamenting the loss of all humanity had built as an affront to the endless now. But as the world was shaped by Moebius, it had to be torn down to release all from the grasp of its dictators.
But Shania shook her head.
“It’s not the world. It’s you.” She said, tightening the grip of her hand. She was angry. They had embraced. They had confided in each other. They had kissed, and they’d gone a little further. All unfathomably invaluable experiences to her, now on the precipice of being obliterated into nothing. She broke away from Miyabi, too upset to feel comfortable with herself.
“Just feels like the world fucking hates us. Either you die in 2 months or Ouroboros ends the world in 2 weeks. Regardless, I lose you.”
Miyabi’s face fell. It hurt to see Shania distressed and not knowing how to help her. It was an inevitable part of a relationship that remained painful regardless of experience. She looked to the pavement ahead of them, trying to rack her brain for what could be done. What usually cheered Shania up? Was there something they hadn’t done yet that Miyabi really wanted to do before time was up? Her eyes lit up, something came to mind.
“Could you paint me?” She asked. Shania turned to her with surprise. Miyabi blushed, a little nervous at the request.
“The way you use a brush to depict people with ink… I’ve always been amazed by it. It seems like such a difficult skill to perfect. A-and to see it be used to illustrate even the departed is incredible!” Miyabi elaborated with a sudden spurt of excitement. She then pulled out her Offseer flute, before looking to Shania with admiration.
“It’s like… A personal melody to make someone’s memories eternal. I was hoping you could make one for me. That way, even if I die, you can still see me every day.”
Shania was speechless. She had figured that everyone that had supported her affinity for art were now either dead or hated her. That her creativity was a cancer to her community. That it could only be used to harm, like she had done to the City as Moeius. It bewildered her to hear her abilities be wanted. Being wanted at all was a challenge to accept.
“I-I… Do you really want me to do that?” She asked.
“Of course! I could think of no bigger honor than to be immortalized by you, Shania.” Miyabi smiled. Shania’s face was red.
Miyabi had later told Monica of the idea, who then rented the two an empty studio in the City’s academy and told the Offseer to take another day off. It was weird for Shania to return to the halls of where she once studied, much less whilst being dragged through them by a girl so enthusiastic for Shania’s own craft. Inside the studio, they quickly found the essential tools needed. Shania couldn’t help herself though. It had been years since last she had been in this room, and everything in here was so fun to dig through and look at. So many different brushes and pencils and pens, tape and tapestry and shades of colors. Miyabi looked at her joy, it was nice to see Shania this enthused.
Eventually, they got Miyabi seated on a small stool and had a canvas placed nearby. Shania took a seat in front of it, leaning sideways to look at her model with a rare smile.
“I need you to sit perfectly still for a while. It’s easier to get the details right if I have a direct reference. That okay?”
“No worries.” Miyabi nodded. “Consul Y never gave me cues on how to bear my face, so you could say I’m quite experienced with maintaining the same expression.”
Shania peeked out of the side of the canvas with a perplexed face. “Unusually morbid joke for you, ‘Yabi.“ She said, dipping the brush in paint and drawing out the first line. “And you don’t have to refer to that fuckwit by title anymore. Bastards like them don’t deserve the respect.”
“Force of habit, I suppose.” Miyabi couldn’t help but smile a little wider. Shania would’ve gotten miffed at her for immediately breaking the rule, if it weren’t for how perfect her smile was.
30 minutes went by in a flash. It’s the best illustration Shania felt she’s ever done. Finishing the last few lines, Shania turned the canvas around to show off her masterpiece to her girlfriend. Miyabi gasped.
“My goodness! That’s me!” She exclaimed, unable to contain her voice, or enthusiasm. Shania cut out the painting from the canvas and tried handing it to Miyabi, but she declined, closing Shania’s hand, holding on to it and telling her to keep it. With several hours of the studio left to spare, Shania digs out an old record player and some classical music she can’t pronounce. From there, she teaches Miyabi how to dance, even though she has no idea how to do it either. And for a moment, the fun she was swept up in convinced Shania that everything might turn out alright.
When Queen Melia called the heroes of Aionios for aid, Miyabi took Shania with her.
----
Origin was faced with a conundrum. In a fraction of a nanosecond, its supremely advanced operating system had initialized the process of splitting Aionios apart and reconstructing the two original worlds it was composed of. Every cell, molecule and atom were neatly sorted and bundled together through countless subroutines. This included people. Billions of souls stored safely within millions of Data Cores, whose avatars now celebrated their final victory. One after the other, everyone was being accounted for.
But an anomaly had been detected. ID:38218362937 bore not merely a single identifying marker, but three of them. CITY, KEVES, and MOEBIUS. ID:38218362937 had been born in the City, integrated into Origin as a Kevesian Soldier, then turned into Moebius shortly after by ID:MB-X.
First, the MOEBIUS marker was erased, as it had been with the rest who bore it. Next came the complicated part. Those who bore the mark of the City were all automatically let go of Origin’s influence, but not without faith. Algorithms predicted that causality would ensure they all be reincarnated, eventually. The KEVES marker, however, requested ID:38218362937 to return to the world of the Bionis. Thousands of simulations were run for either scenario, all taking into account the stability of the worlds, expected causality and all the memories logged.
In the end, The Spirit of the Ark chose what it felt most appropriate.
----
Shania woke up under a tree. It took her a few seconds to adjust to even being awake at all. Then she furrowed her brow in confused concern. She was told she would cease to exist. Yet here she was, annoyingly existing. The rest of her senses then returned to her in tandem. She felt the grass she was sitting in pricking her hands and legs, took in the smell of gunpowder, listened to distant booms and cheerful laughter, and opened her eyes.
She blinked rapidly as she took in her surroundings. It looked like she was in a city, but not the one she was familiar with. The sky flashed in bright bursts of multicolored light from time to time, as kids and adults alike cheered on, conversed and ran through the streets. Some of the people had wings on their heads. Others had metal skin. Most were devoid of such features, like her.
Her eyes squinted at the sight, as her mouth hung slightly agape. She had no idea where this was. Looking down at her hands, she noticed she was still wearing her Lost Numbers gloves. Her hair was still tied up, and she still had military boots on. Moreover, she had her sister’s jacket back.
Rising from the ground, she looked to gauge where the hell to go. The plaza ahead of her seemed like a good place to start, but who knows where that went. Instinctively, she tapped the side of her head to bring up her map in her iris. Nothing happened. In fact, her iris seemed to be completely gone, somehow, along with all the minute, digital senses it brought. She suddenly felt particularly lost. Had she lost anything else? Tapping around her several pockets, she heard a particularly crunchy sound in her breast pocket. Unpacking the contents, she found a folded piece of paper. It was distressingly familiar to her, but the general haziness this whole situation had left her in made it difficult to remember what it was, so she unfolded it.
It was the painting of Miyabi’s adorable, smiling face.
Shania’s heart dropped. Then, it skipped several beats. Everything inside her felt ready to burst into a million pieces. Nothing about any of this made sense to her. She should be dead. Every trace of Aionios should be gone. So why was she now standing here with Miyabi’s beautiful smile in her hands? Another thought crossed Shania’s racing mind. If she was still alive, then could…
Swallowing a lump, she folded it again and put it back safely in her pocket. She looked ahead, turning towards the direction everyone around her was heading. A massive, shining building loomed in the distance. It looked weirdly familiar to her, somehow, but something told her the color was wrong. It was too bright. With no better lead, she let out a sigh before following the stream.
Then, things got a little weird. For a split second, Shania’s body couldn’t tell if it was standing, falling, walking on solid earth or walking through saltwater. A wind started blowing out of nowhere, and the air that whirled around her seemed a little thicker than what it just was. The temperature changed, ever so slightly, but noticeably to her. But just as quickly as these changes had appeared, she similarly, instantly felt accustomed to them. She flinched. Had she imagined that? She looked around, trying to gauge if there had really been any changes, or if anyone around her had felt the same.
Her scouting was cut short when the serene note of a flute flowed through the plaza. Her whole body shook. Paralyzed by the familiarity of the somber tune, Shania sharpened her ears and listened intently. She had heard that tune be played for countless departed, even for her own family, once.
Overwhelmed, she began to run towards the music. She pushed anyone in her way aside, barreling down the unfamiliar streets with unstoppable determination. Her urgency made her unaware of the change in architecture, much less the tears in her eyes. For every corner she rounded, she heard the music get closer and closer, until she finally came upon a populated clearing. In the middle was a large saffronia tree, lightly glowing in the twilight, surrounded by sitting children that spectated a flutist playing with closed eyes. She looked a little different, but there was no mistaking it. It was her.
It was Miyabi.
Her clothes were different. They had the same shade of white as her offseer’s garb, but the wide dress had been replaced by a shorter, frilly skirt. Her now exposed legs had white stripes of cloth wrapped tightly around them, but despite the coverings, her glowing ether lines were still visible. She was sitting on what looked like a huge cannon, decorated with a white pattern that looked like wind and flowers. It almost looked like the weapon was made to match the odd outfit. Or perhaps it was the other way around.
Next to her was a tall, impressively muscular woman, sitting with crossed arms and closed eyes. She was wearing… Well, barely anything, apart from a huge, similarly frilly skirt and a long white bag that somehow floated above her head in an arc. Similarly, her abundance of white hair stood tall, as if unbothered by gravity altogether. Oh, yeah and she had fuck-off massive battle axe on her back. That too.
The woman opened a single eye and looked at Shania nonchalantly. When she noticed how intensely Shania was staring at them, her brow furrowed and she gently nudged Miyabi’s side with her elbow. Miyabi stopped playing. She briefly looked confused at the woman, before following her line of sight and spotted their newest spectator. She paused for a moment. Stepping off her Ether cannon, she timidly walked towards the twin tailed newcomer with squinted eyes.
“Have we…” Miyabi spoke, trailing off at the mysticism of this strangely dressed, strangely familiar stranger. This girl evoked tinges of warmth within her, but she couldn’t quite parse where that came from.
Then, her eyes widened in shock. It was as if a million memories flooded her senses, overwhelming her with emotions that spanned years of lives that she didn’t know she had lived. At the epicenter of that rush were the feelings she felt for the girl in front of her. Love, both tangible and immaterial, filled her heart with potency only absence and relief could summon.
“Sh-Shania?!” Her voice cracked. Shania broke, tears stinging the corners of her eyes as she rushed forward and grabbed Miyabi in a tight hug. They both fell to their knees, sobbing on each other’s shoulders in a shared embrace. A confusing sense of liberation washed over Shania. With no fear of annihilation, she could weep freely, clutching the one person that wouldn’t leave her in her arms.