Amelia, Ch 349- Lily
Newter always has a way of showing when he's in a bad mood, I had come to notice. Mainly by acting like he was in a really good mood. I'd known a few people like that in my life, and for the most part it helped just to pretend like nothing was wrong and let them come to you if they wanted to. Or, in my case, tracking him down to a higher end club here on the outskirts of Amsterdam. Him in civilian clothes, me in the underlayer of my armor. Plenty of people recognized me, and I even signed a couple autographs and had to beg off some 'offers' on my way to the back.
Though that one redhead was pretty cute... maybe Sabah... no, Sabah's way too innocent for something like that.
I wasn't quite the gay rights status symbol here that I was in other parts of Europe. This area was already pretty accepting, and what issues it did still have would be solved with time, education, and other gentle pressures. My method of in your face challenges to the status quo would only make me look reactionary and possibly unhinged here. Sure, the first time we made a portal here, we followed the same protocol we demanded of every nation receiving a portal. Which was simply a very public photo op where I shook hands with whatever highest leader that nation had.
An event that was sometimes boring, little more than a rote service by a politician happy enough to be seen being seen with an international celebrity. Sometimes it filled me with pride as the leaders of nations gave sincere thanks for my efforts, both on the battlefield and otherwise. And sometimes I was rewarded with sadistic glee, as my armor's combat systems told me just how much some asshole was imagining my execution even as he was forced to play nice with me. After all, if they didn't play ball, I could simply refuse to cut open the doorway to another world. Sure, most backpedaled on their niceties the moment my back was turned, but the message was sent all the same. They were humiliated, and I walked away untouched.
"Hey, Newt, how's things?" I asked casually as I walked in. A couple girls were draped over each other, unconscious. The armor's auto-diagnostics let me know they were under the influence of his poison, and while I wasn't exactly happy about that, I ignored it as I always did. Newter certainly charged enough to send these people on mini vacations, so it's not like they didn't want it.
"You know me," he answered with a smile, taking a drink of whatever concoction he was trying today. "Livin' the sweet life." Cultural foods and drinks were his personal vice, along with the occasional female companion.
"So I see," I sat down across from him, sinking into the truly luxurious couch.
I've never owned a bed as comfortable as this couch.
"Want a drink?" He asked.
"Trying to get me drunk?" I smirked.
"Hell no," he responded. "Your power's scary as balls enough when you're sober. There should be an international law against Endslayers getting drunk, especially so close to the next predicted attack. You can have some of what I'm having. It's called Jenever, and it took forever to find an alcohol free version."
"Sounds good," I agreed, taking a glass and holding it for him to pour, so I didn't risk contacting his secretions. My underarmor was able to protect against most poisons, but his was a power and broke a lot of rules, so cross contamination was a risk. I sipped it cautiously at first, and decided there wasn't anything I could compare it to. A weird pine flavor, plus a bunch of other stuff. It was good, but not something I'd miss if I never had it again.
"This is really good," I smiled politely as I swallowed more of the drink. "Glad you went through the effort of getting a version for us non-drinkers." Newter, for reasons he never shared with me, refused to drink alcoholic beverages. I had my speculations on why, maybe he his taste buds just didn't like the flavor... but my guess was it was specifically because he couldn't feel the effects of the alcohol and it was one more barrier between himself and normalcy. Pretending he was a teetotaler meant he could take ownership of the difference, make it a choice. And I played along because, well, he was right about keeping alcohol away from a power like mine. And if it made him feel better about his own condition, I was happy to do it.
"Took forever to find this stuff," he repeated. "You don't even know how many people I had to ask. One guy I looked like he was either going to cry or hit me. You'd think I was talking about jacking off with their national flag or something."
"Different cultures, different priorities," I shrugged. "So, Faultline said you stumbled across something from the neural regeneration tech."
"Ah, so that's why you're here," he sighed, looking less happy.
"Well, it is an important piece of tech and you've gone the longest using it," I stated. Gregor had quit months ago, for reasons he refused to speak of. "We do want to know if Cauldron was telling the truth about the Case 53s. Were you a volunteer?"
"In my case?" Newter looked down into his glass for a good minute. "Yeah. They were telling the truth. Or I think they were, I'm not absolutely certain and there are still a lot of gaps, memories I don't have back, and stuff I was never told in the first place. But, well... you know all those shitty alt reality stories where the Nazis win the Second World War? Well, turns out that's what happened to my home dimension."
"That... is pretty fucked up," I muttered. "Are we going to need to do something?"
That is the kind of reality that Pantheon might be provoked into staging an interdimensional attack on. I'd certainly advocate us doing so.
"They lost the Third," he added to the story, more or less negating my question. "And by the time the fourth came around... well, there were no winners. Even in our version of America, thirteen year olds were being sent off to war. Looking at it with what I know now, I don't think our science ever got to the point where we realized what nuclear fallout meant for the world. Or maybe things were so bad that no one cared anymore."
"Fuck," I muttered. "That's just... fuck..."
Cauldron certainly found a great place to harvest 'willing' test subjects in that world. They claimed that every test was done on volunteers, who knew and agreed to the risks. A planet torn by nuclear war would be full of people who'd agree to almost anything for the chance of a better future.
"So now... I don't know what to think," he sighed. "I had years to build up this... idea, y'know? About the people who turned me into a freak and stole my life from me. When I heard the name Cauldron, I finally had a name I could assign all of my hatred to. The source of all bad things in my life. The reason I had no parents, no history, not even a name... and now, well... I find out that I'd trade everything they stole from me just for the taste of Jenever." He lifted his glass and downed the rest of it. "Even like this I have a better life than anyone on my world could have hoped for.
"Which bothers you, I take it?" I prompted.
"Yeah, it bothers me," he agreed with an unhappy chuckle. "I feel let down, y'know? Disappointed. I sure as fuck ain't grateful to them for turning me into this." He gestured across his orange, amphibian like body. "And they did use me as a guinea pig so they could perfect a drug that granted powers, so it's not like they did it out of the kindness of their hearts. I owe them nothing."
Which they did as a desperate ploy to save the world from Scion, I added silently. At this moment, Faultline and her people were not aware of what Scion really was. Almost nobody had been told, only those who had the powers or resources to actually help prepare for that war.
"And I guess that's part of the problem," Newter continued. "I owe them nothing. I can't even do something crazy like swear eternal vengeance and hunt them down. They came along, did their thing, and left me to fend for myself just a little better off than how they found me."
I couldn't think of anything to say. The Empresses would be overjoyed at the news that our supposedly conditional alliance wasn't a metaphorical deal with the devil where we ignored horrible crimes just for something that was useful to us. They may be a group that fed off of human greed and suffering, but they weren't actively making the world a worse place. It was honestly a relief, but at the same time Newter was right, in a way it was disappointing. A let down, that the monolithic evil conspiracy wasn't quite as monolithic or evil as we had feared.
Oh well, we still had the Yangban.
"You got the answers you've been looking for, but they weren't nearly as cool as what you imagined it would be," I suggested.
"Yeah, that sounds about right," he agreed. "Speaking of boring answers, I don't think we've been properly introduced. My name is... was... Joshua. Or Josh, to my friends.
"Welcome to life, Josh," I responded. "It makes for a shitty story when you have all that buildup only to be met with an unsatisfying conclusion, but reality doesn't care about the story, only what does or doesn't happen."
He shrugged noncommittally.
"Hey, look at it this way," I smiled. "It means you're free to figure out what you actually want to do with your life. Your past is as settled as it's going to get, and there's nothing forcing you to choose one future over another. You can do whatever you like. You can choose to do absolutely nothing if you want. You're even rich, now, so you don't have to worry about how you'll pay for it."
"Yeah," he smiled back, halfheartedly. "I just don't know what to do with myself."
"Well, for me it's always been about causes," I responded with a shrug. "I kill Endbringers, I have a hot girlfriend, I promote equal rights while daring evil sacks of shit to even try doing something about it. Then either gloat at them when they chicken out, or shoot them if they take me up on the offer. But that's just what makes me happy. You'll have to find your own passions."
"Guess that's my new goal in life, then," Josh agreed. "Figure out what I want to do with my life."
"Hey, I can drink to that," I agreed, lifting my empty glass, shaking it in the universal gesture for a refill. Then the alarms went off.
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A/N- Pantheon vs Nazi World, coming to an Omake near you... whenever someone else writes it...
I'll be honest, I didn't feel like there was enough speculation or anticipation from the cliffhanger earlier, so I opted to write this instead.
Actually, I'd wanted to have this scene for a while now, portions of it were even written out months ago (with Gregor being in the other side of the conversation) but I never had the "right moment" to work it into the story. And then it finally fell in my lap! Huzzah!