REVELATIONS

17th-18th of Johannar, 1197 SA

Buerrenstadt/Eisehafen

There are few stories as universal as the fly stuck in the corner of the room. A lone fly, far from the rest of its fly kin, somehow finding a way to evade the open window. Every so often, the fly will venture down to an interior sill and rub its tiny legs together, as if plotting its escape. But even with the route available to it, the fly will always end up back in the corner.

Nearly two months ago, Ada found herself with a front-row seat to this story. She was... not amused by it, intending to kill the pest as quickly as possible; her side office housed plenty of fat binders, perfect for crushing tiny insects against walls. But tiny it was, tiny and helpless. Irritating, to be sure, but perhaps deserving of mercy. And so she let it be, doing her best to work around it.

Unfortunately for the fly, Ada's mercy only lasted so long. The buzzing noise it made was grating but permissible, as was the sight of it repeatedly bumping against the wall. In the end, it was the fly's failed attempts to escape that got to her. The first was endearing, while the second induced the slightest wince. Every subsequent attempt felt increasingly pathetic until eventually, she had seen enough.

On the morning of the 7th of Antonum, Ada entered the Eigner Parliamentary Office and crushed the fly against the wall. She looked at the smear, then outside her side office window towards her boss. He was leaning back in his chair, glaring at the wall as he thumbed at his inner pocket. She looked back at the smear, then back at Herr Eigner. Move... do something, she thought. Start writing, start anything. Or ask it of me. Ask it of Kostas. Yet he did nothing.

At that moment, a fire began to burn within Ada, one which fuelled her through six days of staring at population graphs and foreign policy polls. As she scratched away at her notes, crafting the beginnings of what would become the Southern Vanguard Act, the smear remained fixed in her periphery. The arduous work eventually came to an end, and on the 14th of the month, she presented her plan to Herr Eigner and Kostas; twenty-seven days later, the plan was announced to Parliament.

Ada returned to the office after the speech, intending to book Herr Eigner's train ticket to Eisehafen. Instead, her attention was caught by the smear. It was still there, over a month later. She'd cleaned the office in the time between, but some voice in her head had spurned her to leave the smear be. It had proven to be a helpful symbol, additional fuel for her hard work. But that work was over now; the fly had escaped the room. It now had the whole world to contend with, a world that would not stay as patient as she had.

Night had fallen by that point, and the shadows between the austere concrete pillars of the Kapital Row district had grown long against Meris' light. It was a disquieting sight, even from the third floor of the Silberhaus, the opposition party building where Herr Eigner's office was located. Across the street, the darkened windows of the Smaragdhaus, the majority party complex, only deepened the pit in Ada's stomach. It was much too easy to observe them in their totality, which meant the opposite was also true. Every dark corner cloaked a pair of eyes, piercing through the thin veil between her and a merciless world. Slowly, in the eerie solitude of that night, Ada began to realize why the fly had stayed inside.

- \\//\\//\\// -

Herr Eigner eventually left for Eisehafen, leaving Ada and Kostas alone to fend for themselves. Since then, the two had feverishly boarded themselves up in the office, surviving only off of canned beans and stale bread. The reaction was an extreme one, but a necessary precaution; there were already suits loitering outside the building, waiting for the two to come out. Kostas called them 'Bowlers' because of their hats, a nickname that would've made Ada chuckle if she wasn't so scared of them.

Leaving town completely had also been an option, but there was too much information stored here to leave unattended. That, and the large radiotelegraph interception apparatus that Herr Eigner had helped Kostas smuggle into the office when he'd joined the team six months ago. Leaving it behind was far too incriminating, should someone attempt to raid the office. But more than that, the three of them had grown fond of the bulky thing, which also had a nickname: Meglaftí. The word meant 'Big-Ears' in Kostas' native Orahni, an apt translation for its function. He sat by it now, as Ada peeked out the window blinds.

"Are they still there?" Kostas asked over his shoulder as he diligently dusted Meglaftí's vacuum tubes.

"Yes. Just the one today, thankfully," Ada replied, eyeing the Bowler leaning against an incandescent streetlight outside the building. This one in particular had been there since the morning after the Southern Vanguard speech, and they hadn't left in the six days since. More Bowlers came and went occasionally, but this one was especially persistent.

Ada closed the blinds and made her way towards the pantry (a multipurpose desk cabinet full of old groceries), her stomach starting to grumble as the midday sun began its descent.

The office interior was cramped, probably the smallest in the Silberhaus. The central room was a four-by-four metre box, while the two annexe offices were each only half the size. Cluttered desks zig-zagged across the space, full to the brim with briefing papers, news clippings, and research reports. Boxes covered the spaces between, still left unpacked even after six months. Shuffling around them was a chore, but they did help cover up Meglaftí, which was pressed against the far wall. The long wire antenna that fed out of it was the only indication of its presence, snaking under desks and out the back window.

The mess had taken some getting used to for Ada. When she'd worked for Anika Velhaas, she'd enjoyed an office space larger than the central room they had now. Even after she'd joined Herr Eigner's team, the two had mostly operated out of his larger office in the Naógora Protectorate. They had come to Buerrenstadt occasionally- during the months that Parliament was in session- but the Protectorate had always remained at the centre of his operation. That had all changed after Kostas' arrival and his grand revelation.

The details of it were still unclear to her... some perverse sex scandal that involved top executives at Senheisen and a handful of Parliament members. Kostas and Herr Eigner had kept it mostly between themselves, a decision that didn't frustrate her so much as it drew out her anxiety. Secrets between echelons of government was not a new concept to her, and though Kostas was younger than her, the information had come from him. Still, with Bowlers showing up at their door, she was in the market to learn at least enough to protect herself, something beyond the two dog whistles she'd tucked into the end of the Parliament speech.

"Kostas, what happened to the rye bread?" Ada yelled, picking away at the increasingly sparse pantry offerings.

"It's done! I ate it all this morning!" he yelled back, no remorse in his voice. Ada grumbled under her breath, tentatively reaching for an apple covered in pockmarks. The fruit was horribly misshapen, swollen in some parts and dented in others. If she chucked it at Kostas' peach-fuzz-covered head, the two would be a matching pair. It would certainly keep with her big sister instincts, which had come out in full force since Bennet's departure. Fortunately for Kostas, the fragile Meglaftí was directly behind him, and Ada didn't trust her aim enough to avoid it. So she settled for the next best thing, walking up behind Kostas and pulling on his right ear with all her strength.

"A-ah-aaaah! Ada- I'm sorry! I was hungry!" he shouted in protest, raising his hands in surrender.

"Ration, du Arschgeige! The two of us are stuck here until Herr Eigner returns, and I mean to survive until that happens! And Kostas, you call me 'Frau Herschlag' in this office, understood?"

Kostas looked up at Ada with a grin, one that made it plainly clear that those words would never come out of his mouth. After a pause, she rolled her eyes with a groan, pinching the top of her nose in frustration.

"Fine, Frau Ada at the very least."

"The only Frau I see is right here," he cooed, stroking Meglaftí steel chassis.

"You are a singularly evil child, Kostas."

"I try my best," he replied, turning his attention back to the vacuum pipes.

"I'm going back to my office," Ada sighed, gingerly stepping over boxes as she attempted to cross the room. "Knock if you need anything."

Kostas raised a thumbs-up over his head, then returned to his dusting.

At least he's here, Ada thought to herself as she closed the door behind her. Nineteen years old and already diving head-first into capital politics. Proper procedure, proper decorum... it can come later.

A part of her was jealous of his early start. Her own political career had begun at twenty-two, and that was only an entry position in her local municipality. It had taken her five more years to reach the capital as a junior aide under Frau Velhaas. Now she was twenty-nine... thirty in just a month. She wasn't old, she knew that. But Ada felt old. Worse than that, there were still so many things she didn't know; aspects of the state of polity that remained obscure to her, ever out of reach. It was infuriating, but she did her best to push through it. Living vicariously through Kostas had also been a saving grace in recent months, as annoying as he could be.

Ada lay her head on a small clear spot on her desk. The apple was still in her hand, half-rotten and oozing sticky fruit juice onto the desk. Nearly thirty, huh? One year closer to the end of it all. The ambient warmth of the sun pulsated across her back, pushing the anxious thoughts away as it lulled her to sleep.

- \\//\\//\\// -

The warmth was gone when Ada awoke to the sound of shouting. With a jolt, she stood from her chair and snapped her gaze towards her office door.

"Kostas!?" she yelled, swinging the door open.

"It's me!" he replied, hunched over Meglaftí with his journal in one hand. He beckoned Ada with his other hand, then cleared a small space for her to sit beside him. She obliged, dashing across the room to join him. As she did, she began to hear faint clicks sounding through Meglaftí's speakers.

"Wait one second," he muttered, turning up the volume dial as he transcribed the clicks into his journal. Ada could do nothing but watch, not sure if she should be excited or worried. Kostas' expression gave nothing away, only that he was in deep focus. The scribbles flowing from his pencil were equally unreadable, just a series of numbers and dashes.

Eventually, the clicking stopped, leaving the room in silence. Kostas looked out of breath, staring at his journal as he translated the code into Feldan, the common tongue of the Feldelands region that the Republic occupied.

"Do we know who sent it?" Ada asked.

"The bearing of the signal origin is 2 degrees; almost due north."

"What does that mean? Is it Senheisen?"

"Well, the Terell transmission that I intercepted last week had a different bearing, about 115 degrees. That'd be southwest of us."

"Central Headquarters, sure," Ada thought aloud. "Then this is someone else?"

"No, no, it's them. This code language is proprietary," Kostas answered, flipping the journal towards her.

"May I?"

"Go ahead," he said, placing it in her hands. He'd finished the translation, and from a cursory glance, even Ada could tell it was Senheisen. Proprietary code or not, the corporate lingo was instantly recognisable:

// BLACKHOLDE CORRESPONDENCE PDB-1803 //

// [Neonatal Apokhrysis] has transitioned into the final developmental phase // The expected timeframe for project completion is approximately 35 days // Test contingents stationed at Forte Orino and Cottesloe should initiate preparations for the reception of testing kits and subsequent deployment // Adhere to the overarching public relations directive for sanctioned extraction and handling protocols // Await additional directives concerning [Neonatal Apokhrysis] beginning 04-11-97 //

// END OF CORRESPONDENCE //

Ada read over it again, then once more. The language was dense, but she understood just enough to be concerned.

"Okay, Kostas, here's what we're going to do. We're turning this into a- a learning opportunity of sorts."

Kostas flashed Ada a quizzical glance. "A learning opportunity? Really?"

"Yes, really. I want you to take this correspondence and dictate an appropriate backgrounder to me. I know you've only just read it yourself, but radiotelegraph correspondences are your area of expertise. Do the best with what you can, and we'll figure the rest out afterwards. And remember, keep it simple, concise, and informative."

Kostas took the journal back and scanned the page carefully. "Okay... I'll do my best. Uhm, the following correspondence was sent by an entity called 'Blackholde.' We can assume this is a subsidiary or facility under Senheisen, given that the code language was developed by them and is only used in-house. The signal origin bearing suggests that the location of 'Blackholde' is somewhere north of the city. If it's a classified entity, it may be subterranean or shielded within the Arborous.

"The correspondence is designated as 'PDB-1803.' 'PDB' is a pretty common designation term within Senheisen, meaning 'Project Development Briefing.' '1803' is just today's date, the eighteenth day of the third month. Ehmm, standard procedure in PDB correspondences is to use square brackets to denote the project name, which in this case is 'Neonatal Apokhrysis.' I- I'm not sure what that first word means-"

"'Neonatal,' it's a stage of child infancy. The first month after birth."

"Ah, okay. That's... strange," Kostas murmured, his focus drifting to the following word.

"Keep going," Ada urged gently.

"I- I don't know if I should. Ben-"

"Herr Eigner," she interrupted instinctively.

"Sorry. Herr Eigner, he told me not to drag you into any of the weirder stuff."

Ada narrowed her eyes at Kostas. "What is that supposed to mean? Is this about that Senheisen sex cult you two have been whispering about?"

"That's- oh I really shouldn't say. He said you were 'too mired in political pragmatism' to wrap your brain around it."

To that, she took offense. Yes, she was pragmatic, but that was supposed to be helpful in the face of the bizarre. Her logical mind was built to drag such things back down to normalcy so that they could be dealt with properly. "Kostas, I don't mind being left out of the loop, but when scary men in suits become involved... well."

Kostas considered the point, then nodded. "Fine. Just- just don't blame me when you start panicking." With a long sigh, he flipped back to the beginning of his journal and began to read.

- \\//\\//\\// -

Rarely did cities sleep, especially not on the continent of Kharne. There was far too much salacious business to attend to, deals that could only be struck in the cover of darkness. Still, three hours past midnight was close enough, quiet enough, for Marie to slip out of the hotel and have a walk to herself.

Lydia and Tom were long asleep, though the hours before had taken a toll. She wondered now, as she slipped between alleys and under fire escapes, how Tom could enter a character for as long as he did. Playing content for those few hours after the meeting had been painful. At least now, the charade was over. She could be left with her thoughts, left to figure out why Sibylle Lang had made her feel so... unpleasant.

Through grim and grime Marie meandered, the hands of beggars reaching at her ankles. Eisehafen, she quickly realised, was a very different place at night. Alongside the many dark dealings were the victims it took, those unlucky souls who served as collateral in the Republic's unyielding march of progress. Marie felt some sympathy for their plight but had seen such things many times before. Despite what good in her heart she knew to exist, there was simply no room left to serve those she did not know. Still, the overexposure to it was eroding any sense of focus this walk was supposed to give.

Looking ahead, Marie spotted a fire escape ladder that had been left hanging. It was still some seven feet off the ground, but with a running start and a kick off the adjacent wall, she grabbed it with ease. Pulling herself up, she made her way from platform to platform, eventually reaching the top of the building. It was another brick cube, only three stories tall. Every structure in the area was about the same, all built rapidly during this era of mass industrialisation. Still, for however boring it was, it at least provided some seclusion. Nearly.

"You've been following me since I left the hotel," Marie said, whipping around to face the edge of the roof. She saw no one but could hear the soft breathing of a figure hiding just out of view. Her hand reached for her dagger, sheathed on a strap around her thigh. As her fingers hovered over it, two hands slowly rose above the building's edge.

"Guilty as charged," said a smooth voice, full of the same precise charisma as Tom's Huntsman persona. "I'm no thief, nor a stalker. Just a man with a job offer, if you'd indulge me." The surrendering hands rose further, as did a familiar face.

Marie stepped back, surprised. "You're the man from earlier, the one outside the gate!" Indeed he was, still sporting his fedora and scraggly beard. This time, however, she could see his eyes more clearly; stalwart eyes, irises inked with a light puckishness.

"I knew you and your sister would be in the city today, meeting with Senheisen. I figured the gate was as good a place as any to find you. Seems I was right." The man climbed over the edge, taking a step towards her before stopping. "Bennet Eigner, MP," he said, pulling out a lanyard with his Parliamentary Pass, an ID that allowed him access to the Oberhaus and the Silberhaus. He reached out with his other hand, offering a handshake.

"Lydia doesn't like it when I talk to strange men," Marie replied, ignoring the gesture.

"Normally, I try not to take her advice- feeds into her big sister complex- but it seems quite prudent from where I'm standing."

Bennet put his hand back down and nodded. "It is prudent advice. In fact, I'd probably regret speaking to you if you didn't take it. It's your caution that I'm in the market for, after all."

"The way you're sneaking about, following me in the dark... I'd say you have an excess of caution, even for a Member of Parliament."

"Ah, but I'm not like my fellow MPs. The position I find myself in is much more precarious."

"And what position is that, exactly?"

Bennet grinned. "I make mischief, Marie," he said, taking a seat on the raised edge of the roof. "I poke and prod at people who don't like being poked and prodded at. Not for fun, of course; these are vile manipulators who use their power to game the economy at the expense of the working poor. I see it as a necessary aspect of my civil service to target them, but that doesn't mean I can't have fun doing it," he chuckled. "But it's put me in a dangerous position, having so many enemies. The thing is, I've usually been quite good at conducting my business without heavy repercussions, making just enough noise to irritate but not enough to warrant any violence against my office..."

His words felt familiar, conjuring up images of the tavern in Hranost.

"...but that's changed recently. My office has graduated, in a sense, from petty pebble-throwing to probing attacks on these bad actors. We're no longer content to cry foul from the sidelines without getting our hands dirty."

"And this is where your job offer comes in?"

Bennet nodded. "My office is small, just a three-person team, including myself. This new phase of our disruption requires a deft hand that we don't have, given all our prior noisemaking. We need slyness, fresh faces capable of persuasion. Excess caution, as you put it."

"You're still speaking in very vague terms, Herr Eigner-"

"Call me Bennet, Marie. And yes, yes I am. Getting our hands dirty means dealing in secrets that are too sensitive to share outright. But I'll tell you this much," he grinned. "The target is Senheisen, and we're aiming for the very top."

Marie's eyes widened. "I- I thought you were talking about corrupt politicians or something."

"No, no," he laughed, "we're working on a much larger scale. Targeting politicians is fine and all, but they don't hold much power in the Republic, not really. The ones that do buy it from corporate sponsors, Senheisen being the largest among them. So we've set our sights on the source."

Marie paused, considering the implication. "But we're already working with Senheisen. Wouldn't we have a conflict of interest?"

It's a fair question, but there's something there. The way she says 'we,' it's strained. Think, Ben. Just start with what you know.

The company sent them to Sybille Lang directly, which means they've been offered immediate work. Otherwise, Senheisen would've severed ties right after their Hranost job. I know Lydia Terell is the powerhouse, at least within the corporate-political sphere. They'll find a use for her, but they can afford a much better class of mercenary than Marie Terell. Then... they must have left her out to dry. Good, good, I can use that. But I need to be careful... I want Lydia too. If I'm going to leverage any of Marie's frustration, it has to be directed towards Senheisen. The logic rushed through Bennet's mind within a fraction of a second, giving him more than enough time to think of something to say.

"Did Sybille Lang offer you a job?"

Marie's face fell slightly. "She- it's complicated," she muttered.

"Marie, be honest," Bennet said softly. "Did Lang offer you a job?"

She matched his gaze and pursed her lips. "No, no she didn't."

"But she offered your sister a job, didn't she?"

Marie's expression darkened. "I don't like what you're implying, Bennet."

"I'm merely pointing out the latest addition to a pattern that I know you're well aware of." Slowly, Ben. A harsh truth is nonetheless harsh, and ears unready are quick to antagonize. Kind your eyes. Be not a mirror, but a path forward. "Let me help you break the pattern, Marie. Let me give you both an opportunity to work alongside each other."

Marie could feel her fists closing, a tremor in her gut growing steadily. She felt sick, but only because she recognized the truth in his words. Much like earlier, she felt the instinct to deflect; to fly a false flag of invulnerability. Yet again, she suppressed it, for the puckish eyes upon her offered not belittlement, but opportunity. As the emotions quelled, logic returned to piece his words together. "You're trying to appeal to me, but you're offering this job to the both of us. I know my worth well enough to intuit that. So how would you convince her to reject the Senheisen offer?"

"I have no intention of convincing her to do that. Honestly, having her on the inside only makes her more valuable to me."

The image of the tavern flashed once more, this time for long enough that Marie began to understand the nature of his offer. "Then... you're asking us to join a rebellion."

"I'm asking two skilled people to help me dismantle a deeply corrupt entity. If that's a rebellion, then yes. I'm asking you to rebel."

Marie began to pace back and forth, contemplating the logic of his proposition. "In every story of rebellion I've seen, the ones that lead the charge always have some sort of deep-set vendetta against their oppressor. That's what makes them so... persistent. Lydia and I don't have a vendetta. If anything, we're happy collaborators."

Another good question. She's not wrong, of course. I'm here because of a recommendation, a two-year-old speech, and two faces that look nearly identical. But... it's more than that. "That's what interests me, Marie. Sure, I could find some disgruntled duo to help me, but you two rest within their good graces, making you much more valuable."

"So the question isn't why you're asking us. It's why we should say yes."

That's number three. I have very little leverage here, but her spiel on rebellion means she's thinking critically about this... she's open to the possibility, as long as I give her a good hook. If I tell her what I know, there's a chance I could sway her. But I have to commit. She'll only believe in me if I fully believe in her.

Bennet stood up, taking his hat off to reveal a head of dishevelled chestnut-brown hair. "I can't offer you money, at least not as much as Senheisen. I can tell you that working with me is the moral choice, but I don't see that having the effect I'd like it to. That leaves me with one option: telling you what I've uncovered about Senheisen."

Marie stopped pacing and turned to face him. "You really think that'll work?"

Her eyes, her tone of voice... It's a genuine question. "What I know is worth billions, and I'm prepared to give it to you for free. Hear me out, then decide whether you want to join me, reject the offer, or gut me like a fish and toss me into the harbour." Bennet raised his hand once more, gazing intently at her. "Deal?"

Marie hesitated at first. The draw of opportunity returned, as did the realization of its juxtaposition against all that she'd experienced before.

Lang had made her uncomfortable... angry. And it wasn't the brief look of disgust, as piercing as that was. She acted like I wasn't there, like anything I had to say meant absolutely nothing. Like I was worthless. So did Ulmer, even if he was better at hiding it. Now she was here, on this rooftop, and she couldn't help but feel good. Good to be talking, to be talked to. The dark dealings of the night were happening as they always do, but now she was a part of the conversation. That had to count for something. "Deal," Marie said, meeting Bennet's gaze and shaking his hand.

He smiled, leading her to sit on another edge of the building, one that overlooked Eisehafen's southern harbour. He pointed out towards the dark horizon, tree-tops barely illuminated by Meris' light. "If you follow my finger for around a thousand kilometres, you'll reach my city, the Naógora Protectorate. Have you heard of it?"

Marie racked her brain for a moment. "The City of Temples? We made a pit stop there once, travelling the long way 'round from Porto Mirale back to the Republic. I- I like your city. Good food," she admitted, before turning to get a better look at Bennet. "Are you Orahni?" she asked.

"No, no. My parents were Buerrenan, but they were well-known Orahni sympathizers, so I spent most of my childhood in Orahnos."

Past tense... probably best not to pry, she thought.

"Anyway," he continued, "the history of my city is quite fascinating. You see, Naógora wasn't always a protectorate, Marie. Only since the Republic's occupation of Orahnos began in the year 1040 has it gone by that name. For the millennia that came before, it was as you said: A city of temples, of monks and old scholars. Are you aware of why?"

"It's been some time since we passed through, but I do remember how old it was-"

"Not old...," he interrupted, "...ancient. As far as we know, Naógora is the oldest city on Halrin. More than that, it may be the last surviving city from the First Age of this world. So you can understand why academics from every nation have long been interested in it. They come, every single year, hoping to uncover some great truth about our history. And every single year, without fail, they leave empty-handed."

"But how? Surely after a thousand years-"

"I'll tell you this much, it's not for lack of trying. You see, the history of Orahnos, and by extension the rest of the world, exists only in the minds of a select few Orahni monks. It's an oral tradition they possess, a passing of history from one generation to another. Attempts have been made, of course, to coerce these monks into giving up their secrets. A few of these attempts even succeeded, back when the Orahni weren't so guarded. Words like 'Halrin,' our planet, and 'Meris,' our moon, came from these early successes. There were some others, but nothing substantial within the last few centuries. Not until very recently, that is."

"But why now? What changed?" Marie asked, her brain engaged in a way it hadn't been in a long while. "If I were Orahni, the Republic's occupation would just shut me up more."

"A fair assumption. But you must consider the history of my office. When I ran, two years ago, I unseated a sixteen-year incumbent. A foul man named David Eisen."

"Eisen... as in Eisehafen?" Marie wondered.

"One and the same, yes. His is a powerful family, one that dates back to the days of the Königsfälle Revolution that founded the Republic. It's how he survived the parliamentary elections for so long, four straight terms through horrid approval ratings. Having a father as the majority leader also helped quite a bit." Bennet instinctively rolled his eyes as he pictured Hannes Eisen's infuriating grin.

"Luckily," he continued, "by the 1195 Parliamentary Election, he'd done a truly outstanding amount of damage to his name. I won that year, took his seat. And then I proceeded to do something that no MP in Naógora had done for 150 years. I was kind to my constituents. I was lenient, fair, responsible. I listened to them, brought their concerns to Parliament. Did I succeed in passing many of those motions? Not- not really. But I tried. And that was enough. After sixteen years of David Eisen, that was more than enough.

"Now, I do want to rectify one small thing. As I said, most of what we know about the Orahni's oral history has come from coercion, but the revelatory information I received six months ago was different. The young man who offered it, Kostas, came of his own volition. I mention that because he offered it at a great personal cost, becoming a pariah to his community by breaking their oath of silence."

"What- what happened to him? Did they kill him!? Do they do that!?"

"Oh, no, no," Bennet laughed. "He works in my office now! He's a very bright kid, and very funny. You can meet him if you'd like, though you'd have to accept my offer."

Marie rolled her eyes. "Just get to your grand revelation, would you?"

"Right, of course. The revelation... a grand revelation indeed... as terrifying as it is incredible..." He trailed off, his eyes losing focus for a moment as they receded inwards.

"Bennet?"

"I- yes... I'm here! I'm sorry. It's just... what I know now, Marie Terell. A truth that would bring you to your knees."

"Well, what is it!? I'm not a fan of cliffhangers," she urged.

Bennet squinted at her, pursing his lips in indecision. Despite his prior commitment to being fully honest with Marie, he still had a bad feeling about this. The revelation was something he hadn't even told Ada, after all. The woman in front of him was still a mystery in many ways. For him to just say it out loud, on this random rooftop in a city he did not call home. To a stranger...

"I'm sorry to do this Marie, but I'd like you to tell me what Senheisen offered your sister. Only to be sure of its potential relationship to what I'm about to tell you. You do that, and my information is yours."

Marie groaned, though she didn't feel the price was too steep. It just pushed this novel revelation of his further away. "I don't know the exact details; we weren't told much. It's some sort of peace initiative they want Lydia to consult on-"

"Peace initiative?" Bennet questioned, leaning forward.

"Lang called it 'A Century of Peace.' Apparently, Senheisen is heavily cutting back on arms production and their private military division. A bit ironic for an arms company, at least that's what I thought. Of course, I didn't say that-"

"Marie, Marie, stop. It's not 'ironic.' This is... unprecedented." His expressions had entered a state of flux as his brain attempted to make sense of this. It was bizarre, completely bizarre. When something like this happened, it was usually because of public pushback, a last-ditch effort to win back the graces of the market. But fervour towards the Arboreal War was at an all-time high. Military was, at this moment, Senheisen's most profitable and publicly supported sector. So why? Why throw it all away? Why, Senin?

Bennet's foot began to tap restlessly, a wild smile growing across his face. "The plot thickens, Marie Terell!" he exclaimed.

"Hey, I said my piece! Now it's your turn!"

Bennet nodded, though half his brain seemed preoccupied by this new piece of the puzzle. "Senheisen is a tangle of bureaucracy," he said absentmindedly, "so much so that we often forget there is a man at the top, a man running the show."

His foot paused suddenly, as his smile vanished. "But the man at the top... he is no man. He is something more, something that has existed since long before the Republic... before even the founding of Naógora..."

Marie squinted, running the words through her head to figure out the implication. After a few moments, she realised that her jaw had dropped. Her eyes, too, were fixed wide, no matter how hard she tried to narrow them. More than a man... older than Naógora? Surely he's not implying what I think he is...

- \\//\\//\\// -

"Immortal!?"

"Not so loud!" Kostas hissed. "Ben- Herr Eigner said you'd react like this, shouting and screaming-"

"I'm not shouting!" she shouted. "Now hush! Give me a moment to think." Ada stood up and slowly began spinning in circles in lieu of attempting to pace across the cluttered floor. Focus, Ada, focus. Be pragmatic, be logical. Pull this down to your level. 

"So... there is no secret sex cult; you fabricated that story to trick me. No, they're immortal beings-"

"Paradigms," Kostas interjected. "That's the word the Orahni use."

"That's what that word was!? All this time, I…"

"We- we shouldn't have lied to you. I'm sorry."

Ada shook her head. "Don't get ahead of yourself, Kostas. You've certainly said a great deal…"

- \\//\\//\\// -

"But where's the proof, Bennet?" Marie asked, the shock immediately replaced by harsh scepticism. "It's easy enough to say something so outlandish without anything to back it up."

Bennet nodded, pulling out a small piece of paper from his pocket and handing it to her:

TRANSCRIPT:

Jackal: Good evening, Leader. I was under the impression this would be a full chapter meeting.

Leader: Sit down.

Jackal: Yes, yes, I was about to. What's going on?

Leader: Your tithe is due, Jackal.

Jackal: Sorry?

Leader: You heard me.

Jackal: But... it's only been six months since the last! I don't have enough to deliver anything worthwhile!

Leader: You're lying.

Jackal: I- I'm not lying, Leader.

Leader: He's appraised your assets personally. You have more than enough.

Jackal: If he's appraised them, then he'll know they're completely illiquid! I can't deliver what he wants within any meaningful time frame!

Leader: Your inability to deliver does not reflect poorly on the task, but on your loyalty to him. As it stands, that loyalty is being called into question. He sincerely hopes that you will rectify his doubts.

Jackal: Let him doubt! Löwe knows my family has tried to assuage such things before, to no avail! My father, my father's father, even his father before him! Each has given their pound of flesh, yet he continues this tirade against my family! I'm tired of it, Leader. I don't know what more he wants from us!

Leader: You will deliver your tithe personally by the end of the week or face permanent expulsion from the Iron Circle. That is all, Jackal.

Jackal: Let me see him, Leader. Allow me the dignity of a proper discussion!

Leader: Goodbye, Jackal.

END OF TRANSCRIPT

"There's quite a bit of context surrounding this, too much for me to explain tonight. All you need to know is that Jackal is a Member of Parliament, which means he's at least fifty-seven years old."

Marie absorbed his words, then scanned the page once more. "'My father, my father's father, even his father before him...'"

Bennet nodded. "He's speaking of a man who once did business with his great-grandfather. A man who is now doing business with him. If such a thing were to happen within the confines of our mortal rules, this man would be around one hundred and fifteen years old... at the youngest. A near impossibility."

There it was, right in front of her. Sure, Bennet could have fabricated the whole thing, but surely he could have conjured a much better story if his goal was simply to employ her. No, this was real... real enough for now. "We're departing from the Eisenbahnhof tomorrow at noon," she said, handing the transcript back to Bennet. "The PanFeldan-04 to Audemeer."

"I know it well."

"Good, be there. You're going to tell Lydia everything you told me."

"I'm happy to meet her, Marie, but it can't be out in the open." Bennet paused, thinking back on the numerous times he'd travelled the 04. "There's a restroom car between the Standard and Business sections. It's usually busy, but there's a fifteen-minute period where the hills get steep, during which the attendants prohibit restroom use. If she enters just before, we'll have fifteen minutes to ourselves. But make sure she times it right. Leave as the train passes the black water tower on the right-hand side. Is that clear?"

Marie stood up, looking out over the southern harbour once more. The eastern skies were beginning to glow, heralding the day's arrival. I've been here too long. Away from her, from reason. He's earned the right to deal with her harsher judgement, but I'll take him no farther on my own.

"Don't follow me back," she said, before walking towards the fire escape.

Bennet sighed, pocketing the transcript. The resolution he had wanted was absent, but he'd made the first step. He'd have to be content with that for now.

- \\//\\//\\// -

"Immortality and the acquisition of capital... it's a fascinating intersection, Kostas. We often say that the worst practices of Neo-Löweism come from its enablement of human selfishness, a trait that's inextricably tied to human mortality. To be rid of that mortality and still see a being in this position... it calls into question everything that we know about society, about the economy, about-"

"Ada, what are you doing-"

"Frau Ada, Kostas. And I'm being pragmatic. I'm taking this drastic shift in my understanding and creating a new baseline."

"That's all well and good, but we haven't even gotten through half of what I have to explain."

Ada stopped spinning and stared directly into Kostas' eyes. "How much weirder does this get? Because I really don't think I can contend with another revelatory spiel."

"Well, that first bit is what I told B- Herr Eigner six months ago. The next part is this correspondence which, if I'm right, might be even weirder. But this new stuff is news to me too! So maybe it's just weirder for me and equally as weird for you! That's reassuring, right?"

"No!"

"Okay... so should we stop?"

"No!" Ada repeated, promptly sitting back down and flipping the journal back to the correspondence. "That word, apokhrysis. How does that relate to this Paradigm business?"

Kostas sighed, taking the journal back and laying out an empty page for Ada to see. "The first thing, I guess, is to understand the difference between Orahni theology and mysticism." He drew a horizontal line across the page, dividing it in half with a smaller vertical line. "The First and Second Ages of Halrin's history, yes? The little line in the middle is the Palikardiá, the Turning of Ages."

"Go on."

"So, Orahni theology is basically a very rough collection of stories that predate the Palikardiá, all of which involve the Paradigms. There are a ton of stories, fables for the children and great epics for the adults, but the Paradigms are always present. And that's it. As far as the Diani- the monks- are concerned, that's the extent of the theological canon." Kostas drew a check mark over the first half of the line, then began scribbling a strange series of symbols over the second.

"Things got really weird after the Palikardiá. The Paradigms pretty much disappeared, which is why no one outside the Diani knows about them anymore. They were left to contend without their religion's pillars, and what followed was this mass upheaval of the theology. We call it the Orahni Reformation. Splinter sects formed, moving away from Naógora as they tried to breathe life back into what was basically a dying religion. It's at this point that we started to see Orahni mysticism cropping up within certain sects. But what made the mysticism strange was its lack of reliance on the original Paradigms as a part of the theology. This stuff, it was all centred around these new beings who, while not immortal, were said to be reincarnations of the Paradigms. People who were able to manipulate those around them by touching them. You know... like magic."

"M- magic?" Ada questioned hesitantly.

"Sorcery, enchantment, whatever you want to call-"

In a flash, Ada grabbed the notebook and flipped back to the Blackholde correspondence. "This word means 'magic,' Kostas?" she probed, pointing intensely at the project name.

"Uh, the word is 'Apokhrysis,' so I guess it's more referring to a transitory phase where the tetrimys, the mundane, becomes the apokhrys, the arcane-"

"KOSTAS!" Ada shouted.

"What?" he replied softly. "I'm panicking too, if that's what you're wondering. I just tend to do it on the inside. Scream internally, that sort of thing."

Ada's mouth was agape, her head reeling at a breakneck speed once more. New baseline, new parameters, new rules. Adjust, adjust, adjust! But there wasn't enough information yet. She needed to know more. "Neonatal Apokhrysis, Kostas... talk to me."

"Well, if you translate it directly, it's something along the lines of 'infant arcane...ification?' Not the best one-to-one but you get the point. My first instinct was some procedure that would allow Senheisen to turn normal infants into arcane ones. There's a chance that is the case, but the rest of the correspondence makes it seem doubtful."

"Why?"

"Well, it shouldn't really matter who the infants are if the focus is on some technology that alters them, right? But the correspondence refers to specific locations: Forte Orino, the military city in Northern Bellariva, and Cottesloe, another military city in Northwest Rendain. That, and they use the words 'testing kits' and 'extraction.'"

"So there's already something special about these kids."

Kostas nodded. "Either they're more receptive to some process Senheisen's developed, or they're coming out of the womb already arcane. That's my guess, at least. And the use of the transitive 'apokhrysis' might just be referencing a natural transition from mundane to arcane that Senheisen is interested in, rather than a process they're enacting themselves."

"Then... they're sending teams to these cities to test newborns and take them away if they exhibit some sign of arcane sensitivity or ability?"

"Test and extract, Ada," Kostas replied, a grave look on his face.

There was still something that was puzzling Ada, something rooted in the fundamental premise of this revelation. "You said Orahni mysticism has existed since at least after the Palikardiá. That still covers over a thousand years of history up to the present day. If they were talking about arcane beings back then, and we're still hearing about them now, does that mean the arcane have existed this whole time?"

Kostas shrugged. "The mystic stories only ever refer to one or two arcane beings existing at a given time, at least within their sects of Orahni society. Even if we extrapolate that number to consider Halrin as a whole, it's still only a handful of magic infants that are being born every generation. With a number that small... it's plausible that they could've existed this whole time without anyone finding out. Still, I doubt that's the case."

"What do you mean?" Ada asked, her eyes narrowed at Kostas with intense concentration.

"I mean... we're a world at war, right? Every century is marked with another large-scale conflict that's magnitudes worse than the last. If that's Halrin's permanent state of polity, then everyone's constantly going to be looking for the next best weapon. The spear, the bow, the musket, the bolt-action. If I'm some feudal lord from centuries ago, and the people in one of my villages started yelling about one of their kids being able to read minds, that's going to get my attention. Pretty soon, that kid is going to become a spy in my army, fighting far from anyone who knows or cares about him."

"So the reason we've never heard of them-"

"-is because they've been sending these kids to fight and die before we've even had a chance."