mental overload
"What do you mean Ben was captured?!" Vex's voice cracked like a whip through the warehouse, echoing off steel beams and empty crates as he levelled his sword at my throat.
Sathuna, ever graceful in her chaos, merely hummed and slid behind me, using my body as a shield. Her sly grin deepened with Vex's rising fury.
"Ben is our captain!" Vex growled, fists trembling around his blade's hilt. "You promised he'd make it out!"
"Easy, my friend!" I lifted my hands in surrender, throwing a desperate glance over my shoulder at the witch. "Sathuna, please tell me there's a reason this happened."
Feigning innocence, Sathuna batted her lashes beneath her blindfold and pouted theatrically. "Oh, but I'm just an innocent little witch who's good with fabric and divinations! Surely you don't think this is my fault. Heru, you're the schemer here."
She gave me a not-so-playful shove, keeping me firmly between her and Vex's sword. I could practically hear her grinning behind my back.
"Relax!" I said, even as Vex pressed the katana's tip against my neck. "If the kid's hurt, I'll... I'll personally cut off my hand. Isn't that what martial cultures do to apologise? Offer up a limb?"
Vex didn't flinch. "You'd better mean that, candy man."
Panicked, I shouted across the warehouse. "Traveler! A little backup, please? Before I have to sacrifice more of my organs!"
At the far end of the room, Strife sat unbothered atop a plastic lawn chair, arms crossed as he watched the unfolding chaos. Thorn lounged near his feet, bored, while Clara hunched over an old TV, elbow-deep in wires and broken circuits.
"Propheira gave her word," Strife said calmly, almost disinterested. "She's an empress. Breaking it would damage her reputation. Ben's safe—for now."
Vex scoffed. "And I'm just supposed to believe that? I'm going after him. Team, let's move."
No one moved.
Dante was the first to speak, deadpan. "Not an order from the captain. I don't see why I should listen to you."
Falice added gently, "Ben's tough. He'll hold out. Besides, we're supposed to wait for Quinella before making any decisions."
Vex cursed and slumped onto a nearby bench, frustration leaking out in every breath. "Fine. I'll wait for Quinella." He began tapping his foot rapidly—until a wrench came sailing through the air and clocked him in the head. "Ow! What the hell?!"
"Stop it!" Clara shouted, holding another wrench in her grease-stained hand. "I can't concentrate with you tap-dancing like that! Chew some gum or something!"
She snapped her fingers, and Strife casually tossed her a pack without looking.
With Vex momentarily subdued by Clara's fury, I yanked Sathuna into a shadowed corner of the warehouse.
"What the hell are you doing?" I hissed. "We were supposed to stay invisible until the festival! Now, thanks to Strife's little show with Corvus, everyone on this damn planet knows we're here!"
"The stars already knew," Sathuna said with a slow shrug, smirking. "Now the people do. Two exalted fought in broad daylight and flattened a city block. That's enough to make any government panic. And when kralscells fight over an Empyrean? Oh, trust me—they'll take notice."
Her logic, frustrating as it was, made a twisted sort of sense. Still, I pushed. "You couldn't have staged a terrorist threat? Or hacked their systems with Clara and Sifo Ren? Cleared out the city quietly?"
Sathuna giggled like I was a particularly dense child. "Words mean nothing to panicked fools. But action? Action gets results. How else do you think I convinced Clara to fix that antique TV?"
As if on cue, a loud metallic click echoed from across the room, followed by the static hum of old electronics and a shaky voice through the speakers.
"Breaking news," a reporter's voice said. "Earlier today, a confrontation between a member of
Sathuna's smirk bloomed. The crew drifted toward the now-functional screen.
Grainy footage flickered to life—Strife and Ben, side by side, moving like a single thought against Corvus. Their coordination was seamless. Deadly. Wukong gave a long, impressed whistle.
The next clip showed Sifo Ren's arsenal detonating, vaporizing entire blocks as it tried to pin Corvus down—collateral be damned.
The anchor looked visibly shaken, loosening his tie. "The unidentified man and android—believed to be
Everyone stiffened. Vex's jaw clenched. Falice's worry deepened.
"That's a foul twist," Thorn muttered, hopping down from Strife's shoulder and padding across the room. "Listen up. That lunatic"—he jabbed a clawed finger toward Strife—"doesn't abandon anyone once he's attached. If you think he left Ben out there alone, you don't know him."
Vex said nothing, his glare smouldering.
Strife's voice cut clean through the tension. "Propheira has Ben. He's safe. And this is far better than the alternative."
"Safe?!" Dante spat. "You let him get captured and now you're proud of it?"
Strife's tone dropped, colder than steel. "Would you rather I killed him? Because that's the other option. It wouldn't be difficult, killing a teenager as dumb as Ben."
"O~kay! Enough of that."
I stepped forward and shoved Thorn aside with my boot before he could escalate things further. Strife had already pushed the room to its limit.
"Let's not provoke the emotionally stunted homunculus, hm?" I said with a grin that was all teeth. "Here's an idea—how about we explain what we're doing on Idaten, hire you for the job, and add rescuing your captain as a bonus?"
I paused, letting the silence draw out.
"Deal?"
"I'd rather have some credits, if I'm being honest," Vex muttered flatly, arms crossed and eyes steeled.
I groaned, slumping in resignation. "Fine. Three hundred thousand credits in exchange for your help stealing an Empyrean. Deal?"
"Stealing a what?"
A voice, sharp and furious, sliced across the room. All heads turned as a dark-skinned girl stormed into the warehouse, her presence crackling with fury.
"I leave you all alone for five hours, and this is what happens?!" she snapped, her rage so palpable Wukong reflexively pulled Kimaris aside. The priestess, ever unbothered, sipped her tea with detached grace.
Vex flinched under her glare, avoiding eye contact. "We... do need the credits, Quinella," he admitted quietly. "We'll need them to get a new spaceship. Especially now that... our old one's been reduced to a glorified explosion site."
"You destroyed the ship?!" Quinella's voice rose in disbelief. "We came here to fix it!"
"That pile of junk was being held together by bubble-gum and blind faith before I even looked at it." Clara's voice rang out. She didn't flinch under Quinella's glare. "If your little circus had an actual pilot, maybe it wouldn't have nose-dived. That was just minor turbulence from a deflected explosion! I reinforced the shields, and patched the hull. You still managed to crash it."
Dante coughed, guilt blooming in his expression. Very intentionally studying a nearby wall.
Falice, ever the balm, stepped in with her usual softness. "Our funds are kind of dry after that... repair attempt. And we did come to Idaten looking for work, didn't we, big sis Quin?"
Quinella's eyes narrowed. "Why are you siding with them? Dante, back me up here."
The oni man gave no response. He was suddenly deaf.
"Am I seriously the only sane one here?" Quinella demanded. "Do you guys not—"
She stopped cold. Her gaze had finally landed on Strife.
"You two know each other?" Vex asked, confused.
"I-I met him at Doctor Istorija's seminar," Quinella said slowly, her expression slipping from indignation to something raw and haunted. "When I saw him on the news, I thought I was imagining it. But it really is you. Which means..."
She collapsed to her knees, gripping her scalp. "I sat next to one of the most wanted criminals in the galaxy. And I didn't even know?"
"Always a pleasure to meet a fan," Thorn said from atop Strife's pink beanie, preening smugly—until Strife calmly pinched his black beak shut.
"In our defence," Strife said quietly, voice low and edged, "half the charges the CGA pinned on me are propaganda. Most exalted I've thrown into walls like lawn darts are eager to make me their scapegoat."
"Name five," Dante said, arms crossed, clearly testing him.
Strife didn't blink. "The Tsire rebellion in the
Quinella stared. "The fact you know about them tells me you did them."
Strife's voice sharpened. "I never lie. I was there—but that's not the same thing. My sins are mine to admit to. When I choose to."
A heavy silence fell. Strife looked away. Something haunted flickered behind his silver gaze—one of the sins he hadn't spoken of, maybe one he never would.
"Let's take a breather," I muttered, massaging my temples. "Kimaris, take them and grab some food."
"I''m no babysitter, Heru." She glared at me, unmoved—until Thorn leapt to her hat, wiggling his tail feathers into her neck. "Fine!" she snapped, storming toward the exit. "You heard him. Move."
The mercenary crew reluctantly filed out, Kimaris herding the men like rebellious cattle. The door slammed behind them. Thorn rode her hat like a victorious tyrant.
Strife hadn't moved. He sat hunched, bandaged hand covering his eyes.
Then reality began to peel apart. The warehouse flickered, melting into a sterile, padded white room. The floor shimmered like paper soaked in bleach.
Clara, Wukong, and I took a cautious step back, trading panicked glances.
But Sathuna approached without hesitation. Kneeling before Strife, her voice was low, rhythmic. "Strife? Can you still hear me?"
His head snapped up. Golden insane dread filled his eyes, pulsing where silver should've been. His hand flew forward—grabbing Sathuna's puppet by the neck.
Around us, the world bent further. The walls transformed, quilted with the silence of a padded cell. Sathuna's garb shifted, now resembling a doctor's coat in a delusion.
"You're safe," she whispered, unshaken. "There are no enemies here. Just me. Just us."
Her fingers brushed his cheek, slow and steady. "You're not in that white room anymore."
The gold in his eyes flickered returning to their dull silver. The tremor in his grip faltered. Piece by piece, the world snapped back into place—walls reassembled into concrete, light bled back into dull reality.
[Skill: Horizon Chain – Calming Sanity]
Strife loosened his hold, regret crawling across his features. "I... I overloaded, didn't I?" His voice was paper-thin.
"Just a little," Sathuna murmured gently, combing her fingers through his dark-silver hair beneath the beanie. "The mention of 'false sins' sent your mind spiralling again. But it's over. Breathe. You're not alone anymore. This isn't the white room."
Strife gazed at her, something flickering behind the usual emptiness. For a breath, it wasn't detachment in his eyes. It was gratitude.
"...Thank you," he whispered. Clutching his head with one hand and sighing loudly.