2.11 Illicium
Naron
I trust you know where the happy button is?
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Salem was deeply confused by recent events. Pleased, yes, but also confused.
It appeared that Ozma finally made enemies capable of circumventing the vaults; Salem could not fathom how they did so, but it certainly happened. She did not know who took the Lamp, but her Hound and Leonardo were both gone. Had it been the wizard's doing, her newest pawn would have alerted her.
A conundrum, truly; that Hound was reinforcements for the lion. With Tyrian gone, Salem needed to conserve her human agents. In hindsight, she should have sent more than one, or Hazel as well. Capturing Ruby Rose for processing would be an even greater exertion now, assuming the girl knew she was being targeted.
Then again, everything Salem knew about this young Huntress told her that it could not have been her who broke into the vault at Haven. She had no reason to want the Relic, or to go behind the venerable Ozpin's back. Or Leonardo, for that matter; his last report clearly stated that she seemed to have taken a liking to him.
Her thoughts were going in circles by now. Salem disregarded them with a frown, all but glaring out of the window; her preferred conference room allowed the witch to look out onto a majority of the Grimm pools dotting the land around her castle. One of them had shifted oddly, its colouration ever so slightly off. A faint orange sheen became visible in the bubbling surface from time to time. It was a curious development, but the emerging Grimm were no different from the rest; Salem reasoned that examining this could wait until later. She always had time on her side after all.
She may have reconsidered that decision if she remembered that this particular pool was the one a radiant moth's corpse was thrown into. Although Lumina remained in her memory still, she did not make the connection.
While Salem pondered the circular logic she kept getting back to, an echo of footsteps reached her ears. They swiftly grew louder until her remaining retainers entered. She could tell each by their gait alone; Cinder limped front and center, flanked by Hazel's surprisingly quiet steps to the left and Arthur's even rhythm, like clockwork, to the right.
"I found our culprits," Cinder announced victoriously before Salem even turned around. "They have the Lamp, the Crown, and the Staff."
Her previous, cocky smirk was back in place, the witch noted upon turning. Although it could not hide how weak the girl's body had become; not quite frail, but pale and thin much like when they first met. Cinder remained unconcerned with her condition, though. She continued once she knew she had the queen's attention.
"They're currently hiding in Mt. Glenn. I imagine they will go for Shade Academy next."
"Unlikely," Arthur cut off that line of argument at once. His gaze rested on Salem, calm as always. A vaguely pleased smirk played around his features. "Shade is subtly arming itself inside and out. Whatever they want all four Relics for, the Sword remains out of their grasp for now."
The correction was accepted with grace. Cinder had mellowed out of late. Salem offered her protegè a nod and motioned for everyone to get seated. The girl's recent showings were pitiful, but she did put together a good network of informants to make up for them.
Once settled down, Arthur threw Cinder a look oozing faux concern. "Are you sure you're feeling alright? Not a single bit of bravado, nothing? You haven't even 'suggested' you go yourself to take the Relics."
To even his own surprise, Cinder had no more than a bored look for him. Her growth was appreciated but also worrisome to an extent; Cinder's naked ambition was what allowed her to be led around so well. Nobody missed that she changed in that regard, yet her conduct was exemplary.
"Our experiences change us," Hazel murmured, once again attempting to pacify the warring groups.
Cinder huffed in response, offering the large and scarred man a nod. "That they do," she agreed. "I was humbled, so I needed to reconsider a few things. That aside, I need not ask to join this endeavour."
So saying her gaze went to Salem, who in turn watched her impassively. "If you spent just a moment to imagine our Queen's wishes, you would already know that."
The queen herself arched a brow imperiously.
"Oh? And what, pray tell, do you imagine I want?"
The subtle rebuke immediately had Cinder grow more demure; she bowed her head, but spoke regardless: "To claim the Relics. Three out of four in one place, of course we will all go to ensure success."
"Yet we do not know who they are," Arthur argued. "Or why they came for the Relics. It could be a ruse."
He spoke with calm logic instead of passion, as always in opposition to Cinder's fiery demeanour. The girl herself scoffed.
"Please. What goal would Ozpin have in removing the Relics from their vaults where they are safest? Weren't you the one who confirmed the old man is still sitting pretty in his tower? He has no idea and anyone else is nothing but a fool. Even if they knew about us, they will never anticipate their failure before they fall."
That was all Salem needed to realise her protegè's confidence yet remained; it was merely tempered by bitter defeat. Admirable.
"She is not wrong," Hazel agreed. His deep voice almost reverberated across the room. "But I don't like going in blind."
Arthur rubbed his chin in thought at that; he knew as well as the rest of them that Cinder had a point.
Salem steepled her fingers to rest her chin on them, addressing the room calmly: "You are correct, but so is Cinder. Perhaps we deal with a band of aspiring thieves. Perhaps a new group that heard tell of me and decided to take matters into their own hands. Regardless, they will learn their folly in time."
Of course this was just a middling success. In truth such brazenness intrigued her. "And perhaps," she decided to add idly, "we can even make them join us."
Salem's lips curled into a faint smile in the silence that followed, a motion devoid of warmth. Nobody else spoke, waiting for her.
"Yes," she decided. "We will confront these thieves and give them the chance to become a part of something greater. Should they refuse, well."
She left the sentence unfinished, but everyone got her meaning just fine.
After an appropriately long pause, Salem moved on to a related matter: "And while we are there, we may as well pressure Vale afterward."
Plans were to be set in motion now; an army of Grimm right at Ozma's doorstep was just the perfect icing on this cake. If she could obtain three Relics in one fell swoop and put Vale to the torch, her desires would soon be fulfilled.
Cinder was pleased at the announcement. Arthur frowned. Hazel remained stoic. It was a characteristic response from all of them.
Once the queen concluded their meeting and left to begin her own preparations however, the two men did something distinctly unusual: they confronted Cinder.
Hazel was a little surprised that Arthur would be concerned, but let him take the lead to see what would happen.
"What was that?" Arthur demanded of the younger woman. "What games are you playing now, you insufferable girl?"
It was uncalled for, but those two never got along. Suspicion fit Arthur's motives better than concern anyhow. For her part, Cinder only offered a serene smile in response. Hazel may not be the smartest man in the world, but even he could tell something must have happened to her. The young woman lost much of her bluster and ego. Perhaps too much.
"I do not know what you mean, Arthur," she deflected. "Everything is going perfectly for me."
"Oh? Despite your fall from grace?"
Where Arthur's taunts would normally rile her up, today Cinder just chuckled. It had been like this for a while, but he clearly still disliked that his taunts stopped working. The scientist walked off shaking his head.
Hazel was less easy to shake, though; today just cemented that something was very wrong with Cinder. He fell into step with her, once again taking note of how she favoured one leg. The limp became more pronounced over time; Cinder's body was failing her ever so slowly. He doubted the others noticed, even if they paid as much attention to their surroundings as he did.
"Are you sure you're alright?" Hazel could not help but ask. They may be rebels against Remnant, but he never took this to mean he should not care for others.
Yet all the question earned him was an idle look, followed by a scrunched brow. Hazel was never good at reading women; Cinder was an even greater enigma than most, he had no idea what she thought.
In the end she stopped to face him. The sight was almost comical with their height difference, but Cinder was not the slightest bit intimidated.
"Hazel Rainard," she mused idly. "I realise we never spoke much before. But now I am curious: what brought you to Salem in the first place?"
That was definitely not where he expected the conversation to go. Not that it was a secret, the entire group just made little effort to talk about their pasts. Hazel suspected that Arthur already knew about them all; he himself decided not to poke whatever darkness may lie in his allies' past. Cinder never quite seemed to care and Tyrian had been insane...ly obvious. It did not do to think ill of the dead.
Then again, this did not mean he liked talking about it. Although it was curious enough that Cinder even thought to ask.
After mulling it over for a moment, Hazel decided to explain: "My sister was a Huntress. Died against Salem in a fight she couldn't win. Ozpin set her up to this, sets all of them up." A familiar flash of rage turned his expression into a vicious snarl. "I'm going to kill him," Hazel vowed. "However often I can get my hands on him after he reincarnates."
Cinder listened patiently, once again unaffected even when his voice turned into a low growl. In the end she nodded.
"Revenge, then. I understand that quite well. But why with Salem?"
He barked a quiet laugh at that, all anger forgotten. "She made it clear to me there is no defeating her. I tried and tried and tried to kill her, but she always came back. Why should I not when I don't care what happens after?"
It was a sound logic; if he could not beat them, he would join them. As distasteful as some of Salem's tasks may be, resistance was futile.
Cinder, however, huffed. She even offered him a faint smile. "Now this I disagree with."
"How do you mean?" he asked back, intrigued despite himself.
She walked past him then, absently patting his broad shoulder. "Your sister," she began. "Did she not care for the future, either? You say you want to avenge her meaningless death, but don't they all go into this pursuing a brighter future?"
His low growl did not deter her. She dared talk about Gretchen like she ever met her. Hazel roughly yanked Cinder back by the arm, but she only bore that same smile.
"You do not scare me," she said. And she meant it. These hands that killed dozens, perhaps even hundreds, could not elicit even a simple twitch from her. It only made Hazel angrier, so much so that he had to fight for composure. Her sheer disrespect toward the dead tested his temper; to pretend like they were told the truth before they fell.
"You think I won't hurt you for what you just said?" he growled, grip tightening. A golden aura like sunlight sprung up to protect Cinder, whose brow arched much like Salem's did earlier.
"No," she responded, the first in a long time to remain serene in the fact of his wrath. "I don't care one bit. Salem may just throw you away for being a liability, but that is fine too. I am already getting what I want, even if you kill me here and now."
Then she giggled. A soft, cruel sound that sent a chill down Hazel's spine. It was as if someone emptied a bucket of ice-cold water over him, dousing the flames of wrath. He reluctantly let go, but Cinder did not retreat even now that she could. Rather, she slowly placed a hand on his shoulder.
"For what it's worth, I apologise. I can not say I care much for your rhetoric, but it is dear to you. And yet... if you were to die before your revenge can be completed, would you still be content? Is this truly where you want to end?"
"Yes."
Cinder looked him in the eyes then, as if searching for something. She only found conviction and inclined her head. "Very well. Thank you for the conversation."
She made to leave, but was stopped when Hazel grasped her arm again. This time more gently. "Where are you going with this?" he asked, unable to make sense of this entire situation.
In turn Cinder glanced back one last time. The serenity, the vindictive glee, it was all gone; only calm remained.
"Revenge is a worthy goal," she told him. "Throwing your own life away in the process is fine, it's yours to do with as you please. But throwing away the lives of others?"
He took a deep breath and let go. Cinder walked away without another word, though no more were needed. She had a point, even.
Hazel's brows furrowed and he walked away in another direction to think.
Meanwhile, Arthur Watts sat in his little lab.
Partly completed prosthetics lined the walls, neatly organised. Cables were orderly bunched together, running between a powerful computer setup and six screens. Three contained reference files, two his current projects, and one a mildly interesting video that served as background noise.
The erstwhile atlesean scientist's expression was relaxed as he typed away on the keyboard. This new worm would exploit loopholes in the code base he himself helped build; how ironic, really. To tear down what he raised up. Alas, they brought it on themselves. He just needed to be careful not to point them toward those holes, but Arthur was a professional for a reason.
He was also interrupted by a knock on the door. Arthur's fingers paused, a soft frown marring his features. The rest usually left him alone and Salem called for him instead of seeking him out.
"Who is it?"
The handle was pushed down in lieu of a response. Arthur turned in his chair just in time to see Cinder revealed on the other side. His hackles rose at her presence, but she simply strode inside. The girl studied his setup with a smattering of curiousity.
Arthur heaved a sigh at that. Cinder was the last person he wanted to deal with in his free time.
"Ah. You. Kindly see yourself out."
He then turned back to his work, switching through various security feeds of areas his viruses already infiltrated. There was no real reason, Arthur just tried to look busy so Cinder took the hint.
Unfortunately, the impudent child rather continued with that irritating habit of doing the opposite of what he wanted; she walked up and came to stand behind him, watching over his shoulder. Her presence made Arthur tense up bit by bit as the seconds ticked by; having Cinder Fall where he could not see her was a recipe for disaster.
But with her being adamant to stay, he had no real choice, now did he? Arthur was not a fighter, he could not bodily remove the damned girl.
"Isn't it amazing?" she finally said. Her words held no malice and that gave him pause. Arthur glanced at Cinder's reflection on the screen, only to find the girl still studying his computer.
"Once you consider how many moving bits are needed for these electronics," she elaborated. "Electricity, a slew of microscopic components, and the patterns needed to manipulate them. To the point a hunk of silicon can be trained to sapience."
She was buttering him up, he knew that. But at the same time Arthur knew it worked. He always thought similarly.
"It shows the heights of human ingenuity," he agreed, pleasantly surprised if cautious. He had no idea what her game was.
Cinder continued to muse, but she finally gave him something concrete: "And yet you are here, acting to tear it all down. I wonder what pushed you this far?"
So she was testing him, perhaps on the queen's order. Arthur barely stopped himself from sneering and went back to appearing busy. "None of your business, girl."
A hand came to rest on the back of his chair, making Arthur freeze up. But the expected attack did not come, Cinder merely huffed.
"Is it vengeance," she ventured, "like with Hazel?"
His scowl at the reminder was apparently answer enough. The girl's reflection nodded. "It seems to be a unifying theme. Salem seeks out those too angry to care what happens next. But I am curious: what will you do when your actions made it all crash down to the ground? There will be no more machines. No more computers."
Now it was for him to huff. Her logic was too short-sighted, as always.
"How naive. You always expected results in weeks and months. These things take time. Humans are resilient creatures, I will not live long enough to see the end."
"With this attitude you won't, no."
That flippant response was the final straw, no matter how serious she acted about it. Arthur turned his chair and dislodged Cinder's hand in the process. He had enough.
"What do you want?"
"Understanding," she answered evenly, "no more and no less. You are an atlesean elite, could have had a wonderful career. Yet you rather faked your death and joined Salem."
Arthur exhaled slowly, scowling. This girl had no idea the commitments he made, the promises he was given, the indignity of having well-off fools walk all over his well-earned reputation.
"Some things are not worth wasting my life for. Atlas is one of them."
For some reason Cinder nodded. She had taken something from his words; perhaps her recent change in attitude allowed her to sniff out the years of Arthur's work wasted by the sudden promotion of robotics over all other fields. An army of soulless automatons to preserve human lives. So much money wasted on AI that could be better used elsewhere, but no.
"Spite, then," Cinder cut off his dark thoughts. "Revenge."
Her words hit surprisingly close to home. Arthur's eyes narrowed, but she continued before he could offer any sort of scathing remark: "Believe you me, I get that. But have you considered that the best revenge is a life well lived? Go to another kingdom, start anew with your credentials? Anyone would have taken you."
The worst thing about it was that she had a point. No matter how grudgingly Arthur had to admit it, the fact did not change. He himself considered it more than once.
In the end he stood. His rather lanky frame had a full head of height over Cinder, who was not the least bit intimidated. He did not expect her to, truth be told. Arthur merely looked at her, more tired than annoyed now.
"Salem has a gift for finding us in our darkest hour. Promising us that which we desire the most, just then. And once we are in her grasp, we can no longer leave. So asking 'what if' is a waste of breath."
Seeing the way she peered at him, as if genuinely curious about something, Arthur's glare returned. "How about you finally tell me what this is about, hm?"
Seconds ticked by as the two stared at each other. Though Arthur would have loved to set her on fire with his mind, he did not have such a power. This quiet intensity she had to herself began to upset him again, too; was she planning to kill him? Was this a setup?
Then a hand came to rest on his chest. It lay there ever so softly, almost innocent. Her words were anything but.
"Destroy evidence of your involvement in this. All of it. And be ready to vanish."
His eyes widened in surprise. She could not seriously be insinuating what he thought she was. Not Cinder.
Then it clicked. Arthur's breath hitched. He finally realised that yes, the thing wearing Cinder's skin said exactly what he thought. The failing body, her change in behaviour, it all suddenly made sense.
"What are you?"
'Cinder' grinned, an ugly sight that revealed a missing canine. A flicker of orange gleamed from her eyes for but a moment, gone with a blink.
"Someone who, just like you, exists by spiting those that want to bring them down. Dawn will break soon."
The hand on his chest began to glow as if on cue. It was ever so faint, yet doubtlessly pure sunlight. Brighter than anything that shone on these lands in centuries.
Her expression mellowed out, becoming more benign. "Tonight you will have a pleasant dream of what could be. We will not speak of this again. It is ultimately your choice if you live to see the end."
So saying, 'Cinder' walked away. Arthur stood where he was for long minutes, trying to feel any differences with himself. Nothing seemed changed yet he knew something had happened.
In the end he slowly sank back into the chair, face buried in his hands. Just what had he gotten himself into? If he kept this quiet and the thing's plot failed, Salem would have him killed once she found out.
But if this plot succeeded....
His gaze slowly turned to his bed, the only bit of luxury he afforded himself beside his workstation. It was late. Perhaps he could think more clearly about this after a good sleep?
It appeared that Ozma finally made enemies capable of circumventing the vaults; Salem could not fathom how they did so, but it certainly happened. She did not know who took the Lamp, but her Hound and Leonardo were both gone. Had it been the wizard's doing, her newest pawn would have alerted her.
A conundrum, truly; that Hound was reinforcements for the lion. With Tyrian gone, Salem needed to conserve her human agents. In hindsight, she should have sent more than one, or Hazel as well. Capturing Ruby Rose for processing would be an even greater exertion now, assuming the girl knew she was being targeted.
Then again, everything Salem knew about this young Huntress told her that it could not have been her who broke into the vault at Haven. She had no reason to want the Relic, or to go behind the venerable Ozpin's back. Or Leonardo, for that matter; his last report clearly stated that she seemed to have taken a liking to him.
Her thoughts were going in circles by now. Salem disregarded them with a frown, all but glaring out of the window; her preferred conference room allowed the witch to look out onto a majority of the Grimm pools dotting the land around her castle. One of them had shifted oddly, its colouration ever so slightly off. A faint orange sheen became visible in the bubbling surface from time to time. It was a curious development, but the emerging Grimm were no different from the rest; Salem reasoned that examining this could wait until later. She always had time on her side after all.
She may have reconsidered that decision if she remembered that this particular pool was the one a radiant moth's corpse was thrown into. Although Lumina remained in her memory still, she did not make the connection.
While Salem pondered the circular logic she kept getting back to, an echo of footsteps reached her ears. They swiftly grew louder until her remaining retainers entered. She could tell each by their gait alone; Cinder limped front and center, flanked by Hazel's surprisingly quiet steps to the left and Arthur's even rhythm, like clockwork, to the right.
"I found our culprits," Cinder announced victoriously before Salem even turned around. "They have the Lamp, the Crown, and the Staff."
Her previous, cocky smirk was back in place, the witch noted upon turning. Although it could not hide how weak the girl's body had become; not quite frail, but pale and thin much like when they first met. Cinder remained unconcerned with her condition, though. She continued once she knew she had the queen's attention.
"They're currently hiding in Mt. Glenn. I imagine they will go for Shade Academy next."
"Unlikely," Arthur cut off that line of argument at once. His gaze rested on Salem, calm as always. A vaguely pleased smirk played around his features. "Shade is subtly arming itself inside and out. Whatever they want all four Relics for, the Sword remains out of their grasp for now."
The correction was accepted with grace. Cinder had mellowed out of late. Salem offered her protegè a nod and motioned for everyone to get seated. The girl's recent showings were pitiful, but she did put together a good network of informants to make up for them.
Once settled down, Arthur threw Cinder a look oozing faux concern. "Are you sure you're feeling alright? Not a single bit of bravado, nothing? You haven't even 'suggested' you go yourself to take the Relics."
To even his own surprise, Cinder had no more than a bored look for him. Her growth was appreciated but also worrisome to an extent; Cinder's naked ambition was what allowed her to be led around so well. Nobody missed that she changed in that regard, yet her conduct was exemplary.
"Our experiences change us," Hazel murmured, once again attempting to pacify the warring groups.
Cinder huffed in response, offering the large and scarred man a nod. "That they do," she agreed. "I was humbled, so I needed to reconsider a few things. That aside, I need not ask to join this endeavour."
So saying her gaze went to Salem, who in turn watched her impassively. "If you spent just a moment to imagine our Queen's wishes, you would already know that."
The queen herself arched a brow imperiously.
"Oh? And what, pray tell, do you imagine I want?"
The subtle rebuke immediately had Cinder grow more demure; she bowed her head, but spoke regardless: "To claim the Relics. Three out of four in one place, of course we will all go to ensure success."
"Yet we do not know who they are," Arthur argued. "Or why they came for the Relics. It could be a ruse."
He spoke with calm logic instead of passion, as always in opposition to Cinder's fiery demeanour. The girl herself scoffed.
"Please. What goal would Ozpin have in removing the Relics from their vaults where they are safest? Weren't you the one who confirmed the old man is still sitting pretty in his tower? He has no idea and anyone else is nothing but a fool. Even if they knew about us, they will never anticipate their failure before they fall."
That was all Salem needed to realise her protegè's confidence yet remained; it was merely tempered by bitter defeat. Admirable.
"She is not wrong," Hazel agreed. His deep voice almost reverberated across the room. "But I don't like going in blind."
Arthur rubbed his chin in thought at that; he knew as well as the rest of them that Cinder had a point.
Salem steepled her fingers to rest her chin on them, addressing the room calmly: "You are correct, but so is Cinder. Perhaps we deal with a band of aspiring thieves. Perhaps a new group that heard tell of me and decided to take matters into their own hands. Regardless, they will learn their folly in time."
Of course this was just a middling success. In truth such brazenness intrigued her. "And perhaps," she decided to add idly, "we can even make them join us."
Salem's lips curled into a faint smile in the silence that followed, a motion devoid of warmth. Nobody else spoke, waiting for her.
"Yes," she decided. "We will confront these thieves and give them the chance to become a part of something greater. Should they refuse, well."
She left the sentence unfinished, but everyone got her meaning just fine.
After an appropriately long pause, Salem moved on to a related matter: "And while we are there, we may as well pressure Vale afterward."
Plans were to be set in motion now; an army of Grimm right at Ozma's doorstep was just the perfect icing on this cake. If she could obtain three Relics in one fell swoop and put Vale to the torch, her desires would soon be fulfilled.
Cinder was pleased at the announcement. Arthur frowned. Hazel remained stoic. It was a characteristic response from all of them.
Once the queen concluded their meeting and left to begin her own preparations however, the two men did something distinctly unusual: they confronted Cinder.
Hazel was a little surprised that Arthur would be concerned, but let him take the lead to see what would happen.
"What was that?" Arthur demanded of the younger woman. "What games are you playing now, you insufferable girl?"
It was uncalled for, but those two never got along. Suspicion fit Arthur's motives better than concern anyhow. For her part, Cinder only offered a serene smile in response. Hazel may not be the smartest man in the world, but even he could tell something must have happened to her. The young woman lost much of her bluster and ego. Perhaps too much.
"I do not know what you mean, Arthur," she deflected. "Everything is going perfectly for me."
"Oh? Despite your fall from grace?"
Where Arthur's taunts would normally rile her up, today Cinder just chuckled. It had been like this for a while, but he clearly still disliked that his taunts stopped working. The scientist walked off shaking his head.
Hazel was less easy to shake, though; today just cemented that something was very wrong with Cinder. He fell into step with her, once again taking note of how she favoured one leg. The limp became more pronounced over time; Cinder's body was failing her ever so slowly. He doubted the others noticed, even if they paid as much attention to their surroundings as he did.
"Are you sure you're alright?" Hazel could not help but ask. They may be rebels against Remnant, but he never took this to mean he should not care for others.
Yet all the question earned him was an idle look, followed by a scrunched brow. Hazel was never good at reading women; Cinder was an even greater enigma than most, he had no idea what she thought.
In the end she stopped to face him. The sight was almost comical with their height difference, but Cinder was not the slightest bit intimidated.
"Hazel Rainard," she mused idly. "I realise we never spoke much before. But now I am curious: what brought you to Salem in the first place?"
That was definitely not where he expected the conversation to go. Not that it was a secret, the entire group just made little effort to talk about their pasts. Hazel suspected that Arthur already knew about them all; he himself decided not to poke whatever darkness may lie in his allies' past. Cinder never quite seemed to care and Tyrian had been insane...ly obvious. It did not do to think ill of the dead.
Then again, this did not mean he liked talking about it. Although it was curious enough that Cinder even thought to ask.
After mulling it over for a moment, Hazel decided to explain: "My sister was a Huntress. Died against Salem in a fight she couldn't win. Ozpin set her up to this, sets all of them up." A familiar flash of rage turned his expression into a vicious snarl. "I'm going to kill him," Hazel vowed. "However often I can get my hands on him after he reincarnates."
Cinder listened patiently, once again unaffected even when his voice turned into a low growl. In the end she nodded.
"Revenge, then. I understand that quite well. But why with Salem?"
He barked a quiet laugh at that, all anger forgotten. "She made it clear to me there is no defeating her. I tried and tried and tried to kill her, but she always came back. Why should I not when I don't care what happens after?"
It was a sound logic; if he could not beat them, he would join them. As distasteful as some of Salem's tasks may be, resistance was futile.
Cinder, however, huffed. She even offered him a faint smile. "Now this I disagree with."
"How do you mean?" he asked back, intrigued despite himself.
She walked past him then, absently patting his broad shoulder. "Your sister," she began. "Did she not care for the future, either? You say you want to avenge her meaningless death, but don't they all go into this pursuing a brighter future?"
His low growl did not deter her. She dared talk about Gretchen like she ever met her. Hazel roughly yanked Cinder back by the arm, but she only bore that same smile.
"You do not scare me," she said. And she meant it. These hands that killed dozens, perhaps even hundreds, could not elicit even a simple twitch from her. It only made Hazel angrier, so much so that he had to fight for composure. Her sheer disrespect toward the dead tested his temper; to pretend like they were told the truth before they fell.
"You think I won't hurt you for what you just said?" he growled, grip tightening. A golden aura like sunlight sprung up to protect Cinder, whose brow arched much like Salem's did earlier.
"No," she responded, the first in a long time to remain serene in the fact of his wrath. "I don't care one bit. Salem may just throw you away for being a liability, but that is fine too. I am already getting what I want, even if you kill me here and now."
Then she giggled. A soft, cruel sound that sent a chill down Hazel's spine. It was as if someone emptied a bucket of ice-cold water over him, dousing the flames of wrath. He reluctantly let go, but Cinder did not retreat even now that she could. Rather, she slowly placed a hand on his shoulder.
"For what it's worth, I apologise. I can not say I care much for your rhetoric, but it is dear to you. And yet... if you were to die before your revenge can be completed, would you still be content? Is this truly where you want to end?"
"Yes."
Cinder looked him in the eyes then, as if searching for something. She only found conviction and inclined her head. "Very well. Thank you for the conversation."
She made to leave, but was stopped when Hazel grasped her arm again. This time more gently. "Where are you going with this?" he asked, unable to make sense of this entire situation.
In turn Cinder glanced back one last time. The serenity, the vindictive glee, it was all gone; only calm remained.
"Revenge is a worthy goal," she told him. "Throwing your own life away in the process is fine, it's yours to do with as you please. But throwing away the lives of others?"
He took a deep breath and let go. Cinder walked away without another word, though no more were needed. She had a point, even.
Hazel's brows furrowed and he walked away in another direction to think.
Meanwhile, Arthur Watts sat in his little lab.
Partly completed prosthetics lined the walls, neatly organised. Cables were orderly bunched together, running between a powerful computer setup and six screens. Three contained reference files, two his current projects, and one a mildly interesting video that served as background noise.
The erstwhile atlesean scientist's expression was relaxed as he typed away on the keyboard. This new worm would exploit loopholes in the code base he himself helped build; how ironic, really. To tear down what he raised up. Alas, they brought it on themselves. He just needed to be careful not to point them toward those holes, but Arthur was a professional for a reason.
He was also interrupted by a knock on the door. Arthur's fingers paused, a soft frown marring his features. The rest usually left him alone and Salem called for him instead of seeking him out.
"Who is it?"
The handle was pushed down in lieu of a response. Arthur turned in his chair just in time to see Cinder revealed on the other side. His hackles rose at her presence, but she simply strode inside. The girl studied his setup with a smattering of curiousity.
Arthur heaved a sigh at that. Cinder was the last person he wanted to deal with in his free time.
"Ah. You. Kindly see yourself out."
He then turned back to his work, switching through various security feeds of areas his viruses already infiltrated. There was no real reason, Arthur just tried to look busy so Cinder took the hint.
Unfortunately, the impudent child rather continued with that irritating habit of doing the opposite of what he wanted; she walked up and came to stand behind him, watching over his shoulder. Her presence made Arthur tense up bit by bit as the seconds ticked by; having Cinder Fall where he could not see her was a recipe for disaster.
But with her being adamant to stay, he had no real choice, now did he? Arthur was not a fighter, he could not bodily remove the damned girl.
"Isn't it amazing?" she finally said. Her words held no malice and that gave him pause. Arthur glanced at Cinder's reflection on the screen, only to find the girl still studying his computer.
"Once you consider how many moving bits are needed for these electronics," she elaborated. "Electricity, a slew of microscopic components, and the patterns needed to manipulate them. To the point a hunk of silicon can be trained to sapience."
She was buttering him up, he knew that. But at the same time Arthur knew it worked. He always thought similarly.
"It shows the heights of human ingenuity," he agreed, pleasantly surprised if cautious. He had no idea what her game was.
Cinder continued to muse, but she finally gave him something concrete: "And yet you are here, acting to tear it all down. I wonder what pushed you this far?"
So she was testing him, perhaps on the queen's order. Arthur barely stopped himself from sneering and went back to appearing busy. "None of your business, girl."
A hand came to rest on the back of his chair, making Arthur freeze up. But the expected attack did not come, Cinder merely huffed.
"Is it vengeance," she ventured, "like with Hazel?"
His scowl at the reminder was apparently answer enough. The girl's reflection nodded. "It seems to be a unifying theme. Salem seeks out those too angry to care what happens next. But I am curious: what will you do when your actions made it all crash down to the ground? There will be no more machines. No more computers."
Now it was for him to huff. Her logic was too short-sighted, as always.
"How naive. You always expected results in weeks and months. These things take time. Humans are resilient creatures, I will not live long enough to see the end."
"With this attitude you won't, no."
That flippant response was the final straw, no matter how serious she acted about it. Arthur turned his chair and dislodged Cinder's hand in the process. He had enough.
"What do you want?"
"Understanding," she answered evenly, "no more and no less. You are an atlesean elite, could have had a wonderful career. Yet you rather faked your death and joined Salem."
Arthur exhaled slowly, scowling. This girl had no idea the commitments he made, the promises he was given, the indignity of having well-off fools walk all over his well-earned reputation.
"Some things are not worth wasting my life for. Atlas is one of them."
For some reason Cinder nodded. She had taken something from his words; perhaps her recent change in attitude allowed her to sniff out the years of Arthur's work wasted by the sudden promotion of robotics over all other fields. An army of soulless automatons to preserve human lives. So much money wasted on AI that could be better used elsewhere, but no.
"Spite, then," Cinder cut off his dark thoughts. "Revenge."
Her words hit surprisingly close to home. Arthur's eyes narrowed, but she continued before he could offer any sort of scathing remark: "Believe you me, I get that. But have you considered that the best revenge is a life well lived? Go to another kingdom, start anew with your credentials? Anyone would have taken you."
The worst thing about it was that she had a point. No matter how grudgingly Arthur had to admit it, the fact did not change. He himself considered it more than once.
In the end he stood. His rather lanky frame had a full head of height over Cinder, who was not the least bit intimidated. He did not expect her to, truth be told. Arthur merely looked at her, more tired than annoyed now.
"Salem has a gift for finding us in our darkest hour. Promising us that which we desire the most, just then. And once we are in her grasp, we can no longer leave. So asking 'what if' is a waste of breath."
Seeing the way she peered at him, as if genuinely curious about something, Arthur's glare returned. "How about you finally tell me what this is about, hm?"
Seconds ticked by as the two stared at each other. Though Arthur would have loved to set her on fire with his mind, he did not have such a power. This quiet intensity she had to herself began to upset him again, too; was she planning to kill him? Was this a setup?
Then a hand came to rest on his chest. It lay there ever so softly, almost innocent. Her words were anything but.
"Destroy evidence of your involvement in this. All of it. And be ready to vanish."
His eyes widened in surprise. She could not seriously be insinuating what he thought she was. Not Cinder.
Then it clicked. Arthur's breath hitched. He finally realised that yes, the thing wearing Cinder's skin said exactly what he thought. The failing body, her change in behaviour, it all suddenly made sense.
"What are you?"
'Cinder' grinned, an ugly sight that revealed a missing canine. A flicker of orange gleamed from her eyes for but a moment, gone with a blink.
"Someone who, just like you, exists by spiting those that want to bring them down. Dawn will break soon."
The hand on his chest began to glow as if on cue. It was ever so faint, yet doubtlessly pure sunlight. Brighter than anything that shone on these lands in centuries.
Her expression mellowed out, becoming more benign. "Tonight you will have a pleasant dream of what could be. We will not speak of this again. It is ultimately your choice if you live to see the end."
So saying, 'Cinder' walked away. Arthur stood where he was for long minutes, trying to feel any differences with himself. Nothing seemed changed yet he knew something had happened.
In the end he slowly sank back into the chair, face buried in his hands. Just what had he gotten himself into? If he kept this quiet and the thing's plot failed, Salem would have him killed once she found out.
But if this plot succeeded....
His gaze slowly turned to his bed, the only bit of luxury he afforded himself beside his workstation. It was late. Perhaps he could think more clearly about this after a good sleep?