Irwin Kwan's

"Heart"

ikwan06@home.com

[Author's Note: I don't like these, so I'll keep it short. This fiction contains spoilers for Disk 2. I'd also like to thank Amber Michelle for her continuing contriubtions and support.]

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Why must we feel pain to live?
Why cannot we feel just love and joy?
It would be easier that way.

You may love yourself, and others too.
But this kind of love gets you nowhere.
So how do we make all people happy?
How do we make it so love is right?

It's not the giving, nor the receiving.
Not the self, or others alone.
It is the sharing of love that matters,
The exchange between people that counts.

      Emeralda watched Elly embrace the fallen reaper. Blood flowed off of her wounded palm into the fallen Wels’ mouth, feeding him his few last moments of pleasure before his death. Her pale face looked over the Big Sulfural Mass. Elly’s blue eyes and dark eyelashes were stained with her tears.
      Elly was so merciful, Emeralda thought. But I feel bad. I helped kill him.
      Emeralda took a glance at the monster once more, trying not to recoil in disgust. The face was stretched tightly across the skull so tightly that it looked as if the skin was burned right off , revealing the muscles underneath. The creature emitted a horrible smell that instilled turmoil even in her nanomachine senses. But the lipless mouth smiled as its eyes closed. Elly’s thick crimson blood dripped from her hand and fell on the creature’s chin.
      The Big Sulfural Mass, his eyes closed and his face turned up in a slight smile of content, ceased to move.
      Citan offered the auburn-haired woman a cloth to patch her wounded hand. “Here, Elly,” he said.
      “Thank you, Citan,” Elly replied curtly in her soft, but assertive voice. She wrapped the cloth tightly around the wide gash on her hand, then handed his sword back to him with a bow. She turned around to address the other mutants who were infected with the mutation virus that Krelian had spread over the earth. Her blood dribbled slowly through the cloth. A drop fell, hitting the ground and splashing into a multitude of small, red spheres that stained the ground.
      Elly’s speech to the mutated humans was lost on Emeralda as she reflected upon the moments that she had just witnessed. She reached a hand up to her mouth, adjusting the scarf around her face. The scarf helped to hide her inner thoughts. Behind the white scarf, only her tanned nose and her brown eyes showed from under thick, emerald-coloured hair.
      Emeralda had tried wrestling the idea in her mind that killing the Wels was merciful and right, but something didn’t seem right about it in her mind.
      Elly’s voice droned in the background. “Come with us, and we’ll try our best. We won’t destroy you like Solaris will. We might not be able to help all of you. But I hope you will let us try.”
      ‘Try’ was the catch-word nowadays, Emeralda thought. There was only so much a human being could do. Even herself, a nanomachine colony, couldn’t solve all the problems of the world.
      She tried to relate to humans, but they were often intimidated by her perfect appearance or her ability to adjust her physical form at will. They stayed away from her when she visited towns with Elly and Fei.
      Emeralda did her best to try to let others accept her. She tried. But trying wasn’t good enough.
      But, as Maria had said once, “Sometimes, trying too hard is the problem.”

      She was thinking about this during the entire trip back to the Yggdrasil.
      After over half a year living closely with the crew of the ship, it was now quite obvious when Emeralda was bothered by something. Although Fei would have loved to help her, he found himself totally unable to relate with her; she had an uncomfortable habit of calling him ‘Kim’ and asking about his views about life. Fei was often overwhelmed by her questions and her outlook. More than once, Bart found Fei in his room, staring at the ceiling, trying to sort things out.
      Today didn’t seem to be much different.
      “I just feel as if I should be able to help her,” Fei said. “I sort of feel responsible, well, being, you know, her father. I told her I wouldn’t leave her, right?” He was lying on his bed, hands folded behind his bed, staring at the halogen lights that illuminated his quarters.
      “You shouldn’t make it so much your problem,” Bart replied. “She relates better with Old Masion and Maria and Elly better than with the rest of us anyway. Even Billy, who sorta has a way with the kids is sorta scared of her. If you ask me, that kid does more thinking than the rest of us combined.... minus Citan.” Bart glanced down at Fei, hoping, at least, for a slight smile at his little quip. “Geez, man, maybe I should put you up there in the ‘thinkers group’ with Citan! I haven’t seen you so disturbed by Emeralda’s questions before.”
      “She asked me about this mutating bit,” Fei said. “About how everyone loves, but yet, we fight each other. And, in addition, she asked me about trying. As in, isn’t it just an excuse for us to justify failure to other people?”
      Bart scratched his head and snapped the band on his eyepatch. “Those don’t sound so difficult. Umm, first one. We fight because we love. Those others are hurting the people on this earth, and as rough as it may be, we have to defend them... and... uhh...”
      “That’s what I said to her,” Fei replied, his eyes not moving from the ceiling. “But I’m not so sure that I really believe it. She asked me, ‘Why did we have to kill it? It had its feelings of love too.’”.
      Bart snapped the elastic band again. “Damn, man. I haven’t really thought of that myself. Sorry, Fei, I can’t just give you any old answer. Maybe we should ask Doc.”
      “Doc wouldn’t have an answer for us either,” Fei said “I think I’ll just lie here and think...”
      Bart shrugged. “Suits me. I’ll leave you alone. We have a long day ahead of us to get Nisan ready for the refugees.” Bart stepped toward the door and took a glance back at Fei, but he gave no indication of response, not moving from his position on his bed. He quietly left the room and let the door hiss shut behind him.

      “I don’t get it, Crescens,” Emeralda said, sitting on the silver-plated foot of her beloved gear. “You have wings, like an angel, well, just that they on your head. But angels don’t use wings to kill. Not like you. But maybe it be my own fault. You do what I tell you to, and I am the one who’s telling you to kill.”
      Emeralda felt the warmth that emanated from the gear and hugged herself. Only Seibzehn, Weltall, and Crescens generated heat even when powered down.
      “Elly said that... That love can be bad if it gets in the way of other’s love. But do I truly love? Elly loves. He in Nisan right now, caring for everyone. I afraid to go down there. The people scared of me on the earth.”
      She waited, almost hoping that Crescens would respond to her. As expected, her gear remained silent.
      A young girl’s voice interrupted her train of thought. “Emmy, you’re not going to learn anything just by sitting here,” Maria said, stepping from around the hanger wall.
      “How you know I was here?” Emeralda asked, lifting her head and sweeping strands of green hair from her face.
      “When you start getting in one of your thinking moods, the whole ship learns about it. Both Bart and Fei are nowhere to be seen. The rest of them are just sort of half-silent. Maison told me that I should look for you. Then we could talk about what’s wrong.”
      Emeralda liked Maison. He was intelligent and always seemed to be able to give her an answer without sounding all confused himself. He was the eldest member on the Yggdrasil, which was quite unlike her friend Maria. His confidence and maturity were quite different from Fei and Elly: both of them looked too young, though they should have had years of lifetimes behind them.
      That was another thing that bothered Emeralda: Elly was certainly the Elly that Kim married. She looked the same, talked the same, walked the same, and even ate her food in the same way. For some reason, Fei was different from Kim in terms of personality... Kim was very vocal and loud, while Fei was moody and withdrawn a lot of the time, as if he was only half a person.
      But Emeralda brushed it off as a coincidence that they looked alike.
      
      Maison was throwing darts in the Gun Room, playing in an intense competition with Sigurd and Citan, but when Emeralda and Maria walked in, he instantly stopped his game. “What’s up, you two?” he asked in his English accent. “Ahh, Maria, I see that you found Emeralda.”
      Maria nodded. “Yup.”
      Maison handed the rest of his darts to Sigurd. “Excuse me, gentlemen, I’ll be over by the bar if you need me.”
      “Sure thing, Mais,” Sigurd replied. He glanced at Citan as he helped up a dart. Citan nodded and let his old companion proceed to throw.
      Thunk.
      Maison stepped around the bar and immediately served the two girls their favourite sodas. Maria preferred the Tropical Aquvy fruit mix, while Emeralda usually had carbonated mineral water mixed with grape juice. Emeralda did not need to eat, and her sense of taste was not as keen as a regular human’s, but she felt awkward being the only one in the group without a drink. She liked mixing her own drinks (almost as a way to occupy herself), and therefore opted for the mineral water and grape juice instead of a simple soda.
      “So what’s on your mind, Miss Emeralda?”
      Another dart hit the board. Thunk.
      “We fight for love, right, Maison? But isn’t fighting against what love is about?”
      “You’re going to have to be clearer than that, Miss Emeralda,” Maison replied, sipping his drink. “I don’t think I quite understand you.”
      Emeralda did not hesitate. “If love is good but fighting is bad but we claim that we fight for love and kill people and stuff under the name of love then isn’t that not love?”
      Despite the rushed statement, Maison replied slowly, as if she had said her phrase perfectly. “Emeralda, have you ever considered that fighting is right, or that love is bad?”
      Emeralda just stared.
      Thunk.
      “You haven’t have you?”
      She shook her head.
      “Have you also considered that love and fighting can be only good or bad depending on what you use them for?”
      Emeralda shook her head again. “It always just seems that love is right and fighting is wrong...”
      “Love in itself, and fighting in itself, aren’t bad on their own. It’s how you use them, or what the feelings lead to. If your friend is in trouble, and you have to save them by fighting, would you?”
      “Yes!” Maria instantly exclaimed. “I would!”
      “How about you, Miss Emeralda?”
      She hesitated. “Yes... I... suppose...”
      “And is that wrong?”
      “The people you are fighting are letting their love get in the way of your own love!” Emeralda said brightly. “Even if they hurt your friend, it’s because of love... they love themselves, or their country, or family, or their ideals. So their loves now gets in the way of others... which is yours!”
      Maison refilled Maria’s glass and went to fill his own cup with juice. “That sounds like a finely recited speech, Miss Emeralda, but is that what you truly believe?”
      “I don’t know,” Emeralda replied blankly. “Can you tell me what the answer is?”
      Thunk.
      Maison began to chuckle. “Dear Emeralda, even if I did know the answer, I wouldn’t tell you. Do you know why? It’s because my answer... the answer may be totally perfect to me, but it might not work for you at all. The key, Emeralda, is to find the answer yourself. I wish I had as much time as you will have to find answers! I’m already fifty-nine. But you will live for thousands of years!”
      “But I want to know the answer now,” Emeralda replied evenly. Her tone contradicted the impatient nature of her remark.
      “Maybe you should go down to the surface with Elly the next day, Miss Emeralda,” Maison suggested. “She’s been starting to be recognized as a savior, and you might want to see how she acts around the people down there. Miss Maria, this might be an interesting experience for you too. Living in Shevat, I’m not sure if you’ve ever seen suffering and pain of many people. Believe it or not, people tend to learn the most when they experience suffering.”
      “Why?” Maria asked.
      “Why? I’m not quite sure myself, but I think it has something to do with the questions asked. You ask questions when you begin to doubt yourself or others around you. Doubting usually originates with a failure of some kind. And failure usually brings pain and suffering. If you don’t experience this pain, you won’t ask the questions.”
      “And you’ll never find answers!” Emeralda replied.
      “They say that ‘Ignorance is Bliss’,” said Maison. “So often, that’s more than true. But ignorance never lasts forever.” He hesitated, realising that silence had fallen over the Gun Room. Behind the two girls, sitting on the barstools, both Sigurd and Citan stood, listening to Maison’s words.
      “Well said,” Citan concurred. “Your words make me think about the humans on the earth, bred by Solaris, destined to be nothing but food for them.”
      “... Ignorance is bliss, but ignorance never lasts forever,” Sigurd repeated, slowly, striking his chin thoughtfully. “I like that.”
      Maison nodded. “I believe that you only learn through hardship. You may not believe it just like I do, but you’ll certainly agree that knowledge and answers aren’t gained by doing nothing.”
      Citan adjusted his glasses. “Very true.” He turned to address Maria and Emeralda. “Elly is supposed to be back in a few hours. I trust that you two will be going with her tomorrow?”
      Emeralda nodded. “Yes. I want my answers.”

      Elly did not return that night. She claimed that she needed to stay with the people, live their lives, share their pain, and not to be a blinking spirit that helped only when it suited her.
      Emeralda, although keen on finding the answers to her questions, was actually relieved. She feared going down to Nisan, where the people would look at her and be afraid, or worse, to be jealous of her flawlessness. Through Citan, she heard about the mutations that were among the humans due to the genetic limiter that was inserted in all humans. The party of the Yggdrasil was immune to the effects because they had their limiters removed, but she was different: she didn’t have any limiters to begin with.
      Maria was not nearly as worried. She had a hard time understanding Emeralda’s reluctance and tried her best to reassure her friend, but to no success. She had even suggested that they leave alone that night, but Emeralda was too conscientious and refused to sneak away.
      She wanted more time to think.

      The next day, it was clear that Elly was not returning to the Yggdrasil anytime soon. During their dilemma with the multiple mutations among humans, Elly had asked for the assistance of Taurus Melchoir and his nanotechnology. Since then, he had been working on ways to restore the original form to human beings. Now, since many of the mutants were congregating in Nisan, Elly had requested that he be called over.
      Citan had received a message from Taurus that morning, telling of his willingness to go to Nisan to help the humans. He immediately relayed this information to Elly and asked her to come up to the Yggdrasil to help them out, but she refused stubbornly, stating that she was needed more in the city where the people lived. Citan did not argue with her and instead saved the specific data to his personal palm-pad computer to bring it to the surface. He had to help locate proper facilities for Melchoir to set up a temporary lab. It was suggested that the Yggdrasil be used to move the people, instead of Melchoir moving his lab, but Elly said that it would be easier to move the Nanotechnology master; there were over half a million people in Nisan alone who were suffering from mutations, not to mention the additional one million in the surrounding area. Obviously, not everyone could be helped immediately, but it would be much easier to comfort the people if they knew that Melchoir had come to Nisan, rather than sending them over to his remote forest island.
      Maison immediately opted to come along with Citan, and Maria was right on his heels, steeling herself for the possibly revolting scene that was down below. Behind Maria was Emeralda, who, having run out of excuses, reluctantly agreed to head down with the others. She placed the white scarf around her neck and wrapped it around her head, taking care to hide her face.
      “It’s not a pretty sight,” Citan said on their way over the sloping hills toward the central city of Nisan. “Most of the people have been hideously deformed, and are now living on the streets, or in private. Because of the number of people that suddenly migrated to Nisan, there is a lack of fresh water, the streets have started to become disease-ridden, and people have been living homeless on the streets. It’s smelly and not very nice. Margie left early this morning with a lot of medical supplies, and Elly told me that she was sick for five minutes. She’s there to help the people clean up as well; for some reason, she seems to be extremely resistant to things like these.”
      “I can imagine it,” Maria said, chewing on her lower lip. She took deep breaths to keep her mind clear. Maria told herself not to be revolted by this sight; she was determined not to show her fear of the Nisan mutants.
      “We handle it okay,” Emeralda said, speaking up for the first time during the trip. “People no make other people sick. It is what people do to each other that do that.”
      “I’d disagree with that, but, whatever,” Maria replied. “Then again, you’re different than we are, so maybe things that affect us don’t affect you.”
      Although Maria’s words were casual and were not meant to injure, they stuck in Emeralda like a knife.
      You’re different than we are.
      She shook her head back and forth in an attempt to clear it.
      “It’s Nisan. We’re here,” Citan said.
      The four of them navigated through the cobblestone streets. The city had changed dramatically over the last half-year. Now, instead of a shining, beautiful holy city, the floor was grime covered and people sat on the streets, arms outstretched toward them desperately. Most of them were dressed in tattered, dirty rags. The piteous cries, from man, woman, and child alike, reverberated in Citan’s ears. The moans and their low shouts went to his head and stayed there to haunt him. He had to rub his eyes as they started to fill with moisture.
      The smell hit Maria, Citan, and Maison like rocks as they went farther into the city. It was a combination of feces, urine, and burned flesh. Maria had to lift a sleeve to her nose, and she shut her eyes in horror, burying her face into Maison’s coat. A thin, clawed hand grasped at the hem of Maria’s dress, and she jumped away, yelping in fear. One of the men’s face lacked eyes. Another one was scraped half-way off, revealing the muscles beneath. A third had a bird’s beak growing out of the top. Citan had to avoid claws, hands, and even hands without skin as they made their way toward what was the town hall. Citan wondered if Fei would approve of Elly being in such a filthy, horrid place. Then again, she wasn’t in any real danger... none that he knew of.
      As they walked through the town Citan noticed doors slamming, as some homeowners kicked out the other humans in the area. Among the peasants, fighting rose up often; he once saw them lash out at each other physically over a piece of soiled bread. Citan ran to break up the rabble, then fed them each a piece of jerky that he carried in his belt pouch. Maria gripped Maison’s black coat nervously as she watched Citan approach the men, who snarled at him, almost like animals.
      A few looked at Emeralda, trying to grab for her, as if she represented a beacon of light that would lead them to salvation. Emeralda simply looked down at them in return, not moving away from their grasps intentionally. Her brown eyes were still and cool. Of the four, only Emeralda seemed undisturbed by the entire scene. She scanned the surroundings, eyes wide, but emotionless.
      When the group reached the town hall, there was no one inside except for Elly. She was staring out of the back window. She was wearing casual clothing, not the Solaris Battle Uniform that the others were used to seeing her in. The white long shirt and the denim jeans that she wore were stained with dirt and other grime. Upon their entry, she turned her head, copper hair shining in the sunbeams that cascaded through the circular window.
      “Hello,” she said solemnly.
      As soon as everyone was inside, Maria immediately shut the door and sat down on the steps in the corner of the hall, shaking her head dejectedly, trying to sort out exactly what it was that she saw.
      Elly’s eyes went to Maria sitting in the corner, then back to Citan. “You’ve seen the people, haven’t you?”
      “Yes, we have,” Citan said, trying to keep his voice from shaking. “It’s sad.”
      “Sad is an understatement,” Elly replied, stepping away from the windowsill to sit in the single chair in the hall. “I don’t know what I can do to help these people. All I can do is just to be there for them. Sit with them, and let them know that there is someone out there who cares.”
      “However, we know someone who can help,” Citan replied factually. “Taurus Melchoir. He’s the master of nanotechnology and helped restore your right arm. I asked him if there was anything he could do to help minimize the effects of the mutations, even reverse them or prevent them.”
      “And?”
      “He says that he will try as hard as he can. We have to get the Yggdrasil to pick him up from his lab.”
      “Do it!” Elly exclaimed, leaping off of her seat. “Thank you, Citan!” She jumped around the desk and wrapped her arms tightly around Citan’s neck.
      “I will have to survey the area... but for the most part, it’s a go. Maison, if you don’t mind, I’d like you to contact the Yggdrasil and...”
      But Old Maison beat Citan; he had already removed his cellular phone and was speaking into it.
      “Young Master?” he asked.
      Bart’s cocky voice buzzed through the earpiece.. “Yo, it’s Young Master, at your service! What do you need, Old Maison?”
      “Young master, Citan has some news for you. Do you recall the message about Taurus Melchoir helping the people? Is he ready to arrive here?”
      “Yeah, I remember. He says that he’ll be done preparations in about ten hours. It’ll take approximately two days for us to make the trip there, then another two to make the trip back since his lab’s on the other side of the world.... that’s not counting the packing and stuff, either.”
      “Citan would like you to start moving immediately. Elly would want you to move too. We have to help the people as soon as possible.”
      “Before we’re gone, is there anything you need? Gears, supplies, stuff like that?”
      “Let me ask,” Maison replied. He addressed the rest of the group. “The Young Master is readying the Yggdrasil, but he wants to know if there is anything that you may need before he goes.
      “Medical supplies might come in handy,” Citan said, adjusting his glasses.
      “And clean beds and sheets!” Elly exclaimed.
      “Food might help,” Maria added quietly from her corner.
      “Do you think we need weapons, in case Solaris decides to attack again?” asked Citan.
      Elly frowned. “I don’t think it will...”
      “How about we get Seibzehn to airlift the stuff to us?” Maria suggested, standing and approaching the rest of the group. “Not only can we move more faster, but we also won’t be defenseless in case something does happen. Not that anything’s going to happen, right? But, I mean...”
      “I think that’s a good idea,” Citan said. Maria nodded and then retreated to her corner of the room, where Emeralda came over to sit beside her.
      Maison immediately started to recite the orders into the phone.
      “You okay?” Emeralda asked Maria quietly. “You no look so good when we walked through the town...”
      Maria nodded. “I was just feeling a bit sick, that’s all. Citan was right. I... I wasn’t prepared.” She glanced up at the doctor, but he was in a conversation with Elly. “But... but... it’s not going to be the last time I’m going to face it. I might as well face it now. I’m scared. But I also want to help them. But I don’t know what to do. I’m only a girl.”
      “You do lots of things. Help defend city in the sky, you also help us get into Solaris.”
      “Yeah, but those are only things dealing with fighting. Like, you know, war. Now, there’s no real enemy. I can’t look them in the eyes and tell Seibzehn to go forth. And that’s why I’m scared.”
      They could hear Maison talking on the phone. “Yes, I think it would be best if the things were loaded into crates. Maria will be able to control Seibzehn’s descent.” A pause. “Yes, that should be it. How long? Two hours?”
      “Get them to do it in one,” Elly said sternly.
      “Young Master, Miss Elly wants you to be ready in one hour.”
      The group could hear Bart’s surprised voice through the phone.
      “Tell him one hour!” Elly repeated. “We have to get these people help as soon as possible! The stuff that I brought yesterday’s already gone. If it’s even possible, we should get supplies from other cities.”
      “Young master, I don’t think Miss Elly is going to budge. Okay, one hour, then? She will be happy to know that. I’ll have Miss Maria at city limits in an hour as well. Good. All right. Thank you, Young Master. Bye-bye.” Maison clapped his phone shut and placed it in his coat pocket. “Miss Elly, Bart says that everything will be ready in an hour. We will have Miss Maria waiting outside for Seibzehn at that time.”
      Elly’s stern face broke into one of relief. “Thank you, Maison,” she breathed, dropping her forceful appearance. “Thank you. It was good for you guys to drop by. Right now, I think it’s most important to find a place for everyone to stay. I’m going to open this town hall up to the people so they can sleep indoors. We’re also going to need a clinic. Maybe the tool shop can help, since it has the basic facilities we need. Disease, mainly from unclean food and water, has been running rampart. We also need to clean up the streets so they’re not as dirty. Oh, and we also have to have someone cooking.”
      “We’ll need an entire army,” Maria said. “We can’t do all that, Elly.”
      Elly opened her mouth, a vehement retort on her lips, but then thought over her orders. “Yes, you’re right, Maria, I’m sorry. Okay, how about we start with the clinic? Citan, you know...”
      “I can do first aid easily,” he replied. “But I’m going to need tools. They’ll be with Seibzehn, but...”
      “Why not we start with cleaning, then?” Emeralda suggested. “If things dirty, we clean them.”
      Elly nodded. “Right. Okay, let’s start gathering equipment. We’re going to need to give people clean clothing, a place to bathe, and a place to sleep. Break into houses if you have to, guys.”
      “Right,” Citan said. “I’m going to need some help cleaning out the tool shop, though. I’ll start treating people as soon as I can. Who wants to help me?”
      Emeralda looked at Maria. “Why not you go?”
      Maria was about to argue, but she nodded. Her hand shot into the air. “Let me, Citan.”
      “Okay, Maria, let’s go. First of all, we’re going to have to find a basin and a water kettle...”
      “Miss Emeralda, let us go and start setting up shelters and baths for the people,” Maison suggested. “By the way, Miss Elly, where is Miss Marguerite right now?”
      “Margie’s over at the Cathedral. She went through the town, then went there and she hasn’t been back. How about you two start your work and I’ll get Margie. The Cathedral would be a good place to shelter people for the night too.”
      Maison nodded, then headed out the door, with Emeralda on his heels. He stopped at the next house and knocked. Seated around the house, there was a group of six people dressed in street clothes that were probably once clean, but were now soiled and stained beyond repair. They cried out in moaning, wailing tones as Maison passed, and he did his best to block out the sounds in order to save his sanity. When there was no response from inside the house, he tried turning the knob, but it wouldn’t open.
      Emeralda heard a hiss from a character dressed in brown rags on the ground. A black hood obscured his face. “Key... mine...” he hissed in a thick, Aveh accent. The others lay on the ground in various positions, the majority of them being either too weak or too unmotivated to move.
      “What you say?” Emeralda asked, kneeling next to him. “We want to get into the house to help people. Your house?”
      “Floor,” he said again. “Barrel.” The man coughed violently, twitching in pain.
      “Maison, the key behind barrel on floor,” Emeralda reported. “You stand? Or you hurt and cannot walk? We try to help. What your name? I Emeralda.”
      “Hassan is my name,” the man replied quietly.
      “You in pain,” Emeralda said, noticing the crimson stains on the cobblestones in front of him. “You bleeding?”
      “No... just hurts.”
      “I try to help. Where it hurt?”
      The man pointed to his face, but it was hidden by the hood. Emeralda slowly withdrew the hood from his face. She gasped at the gruesome appearance; it was not like a normal human being. His brown face, for the most part, was still relatively normal, but bulbous tumors protruded from his forehead, his temples, and his chin. Even on his skull, between black tufts of hair, they burst forth. They oozed puss and throbbed a bright shiny red. The man’s eyes were wide and were filled with moisture. They dominated his facial features, making his dark eyes and thick lips appear tiny in his head.
      “Don’t touch them, or else they bleed,” he warned.
      Emeralda ignored him and placed a finger on one of the outgrowths on his forehead out of pure curiosity. She felt a slight surge, but then nothing. She noticed that nothing happened to him. He did not wince in pain, nor did the outgrowth begin to bleed. In fact, his face relaxed slightly, as if he was suddenly relieved of a strong amount of stress.
      Immediately, the man started at her as if she were some sort of miracle worker. “Who are you?” he asked, awestruck.
      Emeralda’s mouth was slightly open in confusion. “I am Emeralda...”
      “No. You’re someone else.”
      “I not know what I do,” Emeralda said defensively, stepping back from him abruptly. She attempted to change the subject. “How about we get you into your house and clean you up? You can walk okay? How about the others there? They need help too, right?”
      Emeralda offered Hassan her hand, and he lifted his arms and placed them on her hands. She noticed that the same bulbous outgrowths grew on Hassan’s hands and arms as well. Within moments, the man was leaning on the small girl’s shoulder. At the sight of their comrade moving, the other mutants tried to rise so that they may be saved as well. Maison lifted the newly-discovered key off of the ground and opened the door. Emeralda led Hassan into his home, then seated him on the clean couch that was untouched ever since Nisan was evacuated. “I be back,” she said to him as she went outside again. “Maison will help care for you.”
      Within moments, Emeralda had led the six beggars into the house. Three were on the couch, one was on the single chair, and the other two were on the bed. When Maison prepared the bath upstairs, Emeralda led the healthiest man, named Jafar, upstairs. He had a fly’s leg instead of an arm, and two outcroppings on his back that resembled pupae just starting to grow insect’s wings. He constantly cried about the pains in his back, but he could walk effortlessly. As Old Maison helped bathe him, Emeralda sat downstairs with the others, looking over their wounds and mutations. Upon request, she would touch them, as Hassan’s outburst had suddenly summoned the interest of the others in this little girl.
      “Why are you trying to help us?” Hassan asked, the hissing in his voice subsiding. “I don’t understand. You are healthy. You can just run away and save yourselves.”
      “I not here to help myself,” Emeralda replied. “I here to help you. There no run away from Solaris and Krelian. My goal be to help you.”
      “But... why?”
      Emeralda opened her mouth to respond, but then shut it, confused. Why was she helping these people? It was because Maison and Citan were doing it. It was because Maria, Elly, and Margie were doing it too. Was she doing it for them, or was she doing it for herself? She had even told Maison that she wanted to find the answers to her questions, and that the best way to do that was to experience hardships and to witness suffering. But she wasn’t sure if she believed it herself “I do not know,” she replied honestly. “I just want to help you get better.”
      Hassan accepted that as an explanation and nodded at her. He smiled briefly, but he scrunched his face up as the stretching hurt. “Elhaym said that she was going to help us all, but then no one came. There were so many of us, and so few of her. We all wondered if we would be okay. I’m glad... that at least someone cares about us.”
      Care? Emeralda had never thought of it as her giving care to these people.
      “You happy?”
      “Happy? Far from it,” Hassan replied in his low accent. If he was in better condition, he probably would have chuckled, but he settled for his rough cough, as it hurt his face too much to laugh. “But I’m a lot more relaxed than I was yesterday. Or this morning. Or even an hour ago. It’s something to have my friends with me. Jafar and Jordan were with me, but we’re so burnt out that we can’t even help ourselves, let alone each other. But now that there’s a renewed hope...” He smiled again, then shut his eyes peacefully as his bony chest began to pace up and down in the rhythmic pattern of sleep.

      Things were a lot easier with the new shipment of tools, in addition to the additional personnel that Bart decided would be more useful on the ground. Billy, Fei, and Rico were among the members of the ground crew who rode with Seibzehn to the surface. As usual, Maria flawlessly guided the gigantic gear with her computer pad, with passengers and cargo, to a grassy plain just outside of Nisan. Citan and Elly wasted no time in their plan to start up a clinic to clean up simple wounds and to give people medication for their diseases. Pneumonia was a problem in Nisan; this could be remedied by lots of fluids and warm blankets. Margie showed up halfway through the unloading so she could set up the Nisan Cathedral as a place where people could stay overnight. At this moment, she cared nothing for the “sanctity” of the Holy Place; above all, the Nisan Sect was about helping others in any way possible, whether the assistance be mental or physical.
      Everyone appeared to be present for the unloading, but strangely enough, Emeralda was nowhere to be seen.

      “Emeralda!” Maison called out as he descended the stairs after helping Hassan with his bath. “We should be heading over to help unload the equipment now.” On the beds and the floor of Hassan’s house, the six mutants were now sleeping in clean clothes that they found in the drawers.
      “Emeralda, are you there?” he called out again, poking his head outside of the door and shouting down the street. The butler stepped outside, noticing some of the other battered, destroyed human beings. One had no arms, and there was even one who did not have a head on his shoulders, but yet managed to move around as if nothing was wrong.
      He saw Elly a few blocks away, administering care to the homeless. She had a cloth in her hands that was at one time white, but was now stained black with grime. She knelt down, cleaning the faces and wiping the hands of those who she came across. Behind her, Citan pulled a cart of towels and medical equipment; behind him was Margie, who had a basin of warm water.
      Maison could hear the cries of the people as he approached.
      “Help me.”
      “Cleanse my sins.”
      “Forgive my evil deeds. Tell God that I’m sorry.”
      Maison had to bite his lip to keep from crying.
      He watched as an old woman hobbled to Elly from a side alley. She stopped in front of Elly and nodded. “Mother Sophia,” she whispered in a raspy voice. “Mother Sophia has come back to us.”
      The gossip among the people picked up right in front of Elly, Citan, and Margie as the woman’s joyful shouts became louder and louder. Elly tried her best to keep her composure at being compared to such an important figure, the founder of the Nisan Church, but the widening of the eyes and the slight gasp that came from between her lips did not go past Old Maison. He saw her surprise, and heard the whispers. They were calling her Mother Sophia.
      He had seen pictures of the first Great Mother of Nisan; after all, he was the overseer of the Prince of Fatima and was quite knowledgeable in his history. When he first met Elly, he simply passed off the resemblance as coincidence. There was something that was very different between the Elly in front of him now and the portrait of the Great Mother painted by Lacan so long ago.
      As he drew closer to her, she caught his glance and turned to address him. In respect, or awe, or both, the mutants, quite surprisingly, stayed still and did not push or shove to get a glimpse of “Mother Sophia”. The most that the people did was lay a hand on her garments, but they did not fight over this privilege either.
      “Is anything the matter, Old Maison?” she asked.
      As Maison looked at Elly, cloth in one hand, lips curled up in a way that expressed peace and radiated comfort, he realised why Elly and Sophia had looked so different. Besides the way that they styled their hair, it was the way that they smiled; in fact, although he had seen Elly smile before, it was often forced and artificial.
      The smile she presented him with today was genuine. It was a real smile, a beacon of hope and an expression of love, not only for herself, but for those around her. It was exactly how Sophia’s smile was recorded in the portrait; a soft, light smile expressing warmth and comfort. Yet, the eyes of Mother Sophia told of sadness, of conflict, of turmoil.
      Maison’s eyes went to Elly’s blue ones. Her eyes were no different.
      “Miss Elhaym,” Maison started, having to consciously force himself not to call her “Sophia”. “I cannot locate Miss Emeralda. Fei and Maria wanted us to help them with the loading.”
      “I’m sure she’ll turn up,” Elly replied, the faint smile not leaving her lips. “She’s probably with the people. I find it hard to stay away from these people.”
      “But Miss Elhaym,” Old Maison began.
      Elly soaked a cloth in the tub of warm water and wiped the dried blood carefully from the face of a teenage girl who was growing an extra set of eyes from her temple. “Is that better?” Elly asked the girl softly. “Even if it’s not much, every little bit helps.” She turned back to Maison. “I think you worry about little Emeralda too much. She can take care of herself. She is four-thousand years old, after all!”
      Maison smiled at the jest, but could not bring himself to laugh. The Young Master was like his son, but he found that Bart was starting to grow up... and really did not need his help and guidance. But Emeralda....
      “Thank you, Miss Elhaym,” he said in his dignified accent, bowing slightly at his waist.
      He started to continue down the street as Citan and Elly continued to work their miracles. Behind them, Fei and Maria were going through alleys, picking up litter and refuse to make them more bearable. Old Maison lifted his hand in greeting as he passed.
      When Maison finally located Emeralda, she was inside a house laying out new bedsheets. She was talking amiably with some of the mutants in her broken Ignasian tongue as she was setting the beds up.
      “I not human,” she said in a slow, monotonous voice she always used when she was talking about herself. “I look human, but before, when I went to town, people treat me different because I have emerald hair. You said that you want to be just like me. But I not know why I think and act and feel. You human, so you know that you were born to think and have feelings.” Emeralda placed the pillow at the end of her makeshift bed, then stared distantly out of the window.
      “We’re not human anymore, Emeralda,” replied a woman who had steel-grey hair, but a young, high-pitched voice. She had extremely long arms that dragged on the ground, but yet, her hands looked young. Despite her aged appearance, it seemed that she was only a teenager. “We don’t know who we are, or what we’re going to be.” A pause. “In many ways, we’re just like you.”
      Emeralda stared at the woman, not saying a word.
      “Miss Emeralda,” Old Maison spoke up, breaking the brief silence.
      “Maison!” she exclaimed, eyes lighting up.
      “Hi, Miss Emeralda, how are things going?”
      “I okay. Jamie here,” -and she motioned to the steel-haired woman- “is happier. The people starting to feel better now too now that we start helping. It slow going but eventually we will help them all.”
      Maison was about to start off with a small lecture about how she should tell people where she plans to go before running off, but the scene of the young girl appearing as a heroine to so many disarmed him completely. “Do you need some help, Emeralda?”
      “I like all the help I can get for people here like Jamie and Richard and Abram...” She waved her hand to the humans that sat in front of her in a rough semicircle. They’ve been so hurt. I used to think my pain be hard, but...”
      “No, you’re wrong,” Jamie said in the voice that sounded too young for her appearance. “We all share pain. Even if it’s totally different from what I’m going through, we share the same pain. People say, often, ‘Oh, think about what blah blah blah people are going through! But does it make us better that we have suffered more misfortune than others? Pain is pain. Can it be quantified? Since you’re just as human as we are, your pain, Emeralda, is also mine...”

      That evening, Elly tiptoed inside the Nisan Cathedral, stepping gingerly between the sleeping bodies. They were wrapped up in white sheets found on the Yggdrasil and gathered from the city. the faint oil lamp light reflected off of their white sheets; some of them looked ghostly as they turned and tossed in their sleep. It had been two nights since the Cathedral was set up as a shelter.
      There were no choir voices, no organs, and no music. Elly looked up at the black window, which merely appeared to be a hole in the wall as no light shone through. The light from the lamps glittered off of the two bronze statues that were suspended above the alter. She sat down in the front pew to the left of the aisle, staring up at these two elegant figures.
      The candles were the only other light present besides the lamps of oil. The flickering, glowing flames twinkled brightly from the back of the room. A person stirred in their sleep, letting out a moan. Another person rustled their sheets. Elly had no idea if they were awake or not; a good majority of them probably couldn’t sleep. They probably hadn’t been able to sleep for months.
      The blinking candlelight from around the alter flickered off of the two bronze figures, outlining their metallic bodies. One of the figures was male, and his body could be seen reaching toward the other statue, which was distinctly female. In between their outstretched hands, a light burned, as if they were already in union in energy, even though they weren’t touching each other. Elly blinked and eyed the scene again; no, it was not her imagination. The candle shone right in between their hands. She looked up, sniffing the air. The atmosphere in this place felt strangely familiar, like she had been here before, in this exact moment, some time ago in her life...
      ... she turned her head to her right abruptly, as she sensed a presence approach. She fully expected it to be Fei, for that was what her mind told her.
      It was Emeralda.
      Elly let out a breath. Emeralda caught her gaze and stared back with eyes that seemed to know more than the body that seemed to belong to a thirteen year-old. Elly felt trapped in her gaze, as if she was forced to look into the brownish-emerald eyes.
      For some reason, the eyes looked a lot older than the rest of her body.
      Emeralda looked up at the statues, staring at the orange flames that danced around the arms and legs of the figures. The light caught every dent, every nick, and every crevice ever inflicted on the old statues.
      “Elly,” Emeralda said, stepping around her and sitting down on the pew beside the young woman.
      Elly whispered, “What is it?”
      “You’re just as I knew,” Emeralda continued, as if Elly had never spoken. “The people you love. The silent acceptance. The hugs. The feelings.”
      The former Solaris soldier looked at her, confused. “What do you mean?”
      “You are Elly, the Elly I knew,” Emeralda said. “I remember. During the war, I was with you. Zeboim was bombed again with the bioweapons.” She looked forward, at the alter. “The way you helped people then was what you do now. With cloth and water. With words of ‘try’. With soft smile and hugs.”
      Elly was silent. The emerald-haired girl looked at Elhaym’s face. The firelight reflected off of her smooth skin, casting shadows and defining her smooth features. “I was there with you, watched you help people but I not know what to do. I do nothing. I felt sad. Useless. Unneeded. Now, I want help you. Help now how I not help four thousand years before.”
      “I don’t understand what you’re saying, Emeralda,” Elly said softly. “I don’t remember like you do.”
      “You, Elly who married Kim. You also Sophia. I heard people call you Sophia.”
      “But...”
      “I want help you,” Emeralda repeated. “Kim said I hope for mankind. But I give nothing to mankind to hope for. I no hope.”
      “I guess you can help me... but it’s not like you needed my permission or anything.” Elly sighed, directing her eyes away from the young girl. “I’m not any more confident than you are.” She looked up wistfully at the stained-glass, which was black against the night sky. “Mother Sophia. They call me such a name... only because I look like her. I didn’t do any of the things she did. I didn’t fight the war she fought, I didn’t do any of the good that she did. Already, they label me as the Great Mother. Sophia.
      “She sacrificed herself to save so many. I wouldn’t be able to do that. I’m too selfish. I don’t know why I help these people. Something inside me tells me that it’s wrong to just let it all happen. But at the same time, I want to just run away from it all. I don’t want to be Mother Sophia. I don’t want to be your Elly either. It’s all just a bunch of garbage. I’m not any great hero like they were. All I am is just another girl on this planet. I’m selfish. I seek answers. I want to know what I’m like. I’m not any better than the rest of you. I need help too.”
      “Then let us help each other, Elly,” Emeralda offered, placing a hand on her knee. “I help you, you help me. You...”
      “I like that, actually,” Elly breathed inadvertently, interrupting Emeralda.
      The girl nodded. “You find who you are soon enough. I remember my Elly who always tried to help others. She kept saying it selfish to help others because she only do it to help herself. It sound like what you say just a moment ago. Elly was my flesh and blood. I like her in body and mind. At least, I want to be.
      “Maybe you be my Elly. But maybe not. You are your own Elly. You not be anyone else. Even if people like me call you Elly. Even if people call you Mother Sophia... you are you. If you know who you are, you need not worry about names. Name just be a tag for others to call you.”
      Elly couldn’t say anything, and just nodded.
      “I tired. I leave you alone. I try hard to help you. I try hard to be like you....
      ...Mother.”
      She slipped off of her bench and walked away, without taking a glance back. Elly’s eyes followed her as she left the Church.
      She sat there, alone, looking at the flames behind the statues. For some reason, it seemed that the light was more intense than it was a few minutes before. “No, it’s me who should be more like you, Emeralda,” she whispered.

      Elly woke up early that morning in order to assist Citan with the preparations for Melchoir’s lab. That morning, he had received a call from Bart saying that he was on his way back. Citan had already picked out the Town Hall as the most suitable place for the equipment that Taurus would require for his work. At first, Bart had suggested that they leave the equipment all on the Yggdrasil, but both Elly and Citan countered with the argument that it would be much easier, in the long run, to help counteract the virus that Krelian had spread over the people. They felt that it would be easier if the people were to stay at home, in some place that was familiar to them, and not to have to walk to the Yggdrasil. Nisan was a refuge to the people and the people loathed to leave. The Cathedral symbolized God and was where God’s servant, Mother Sophia, served mankind.
      They loathed to leave a place that might bring them salvation and healing.

      Taurus Melchoir was in town by mid afternoon, and taking patients that evening. Although he had analyzed the virus and administered what he could, he still needed to run tests on human beings, and for the most part, he could only help ease their pain instead of administering a permanent cure. Before he could totally stop the mutations, he had to study the deviations of the human beings, but he distributed pills and other reagents to help the people deal with their tragedies.
      Emeralda, being one of the few people who were not harmed by the deformations, stood outside and watched as the lineup outside of Melchoir’s house grew. Although the pills were being distributed by the others as well, the lineup outside of Melchoir’s house was by far the longest one. There was nothing that she could do except for stand idly by and talk casually with the bystanders.
      She saw Jamie, the woman with the light, youthful voice and the greying hair in the line. She was easy to spot due to her long, ape-like arms.
      Jamie clapped her arms awkwardly in glee as she saw Emeralda approaching, and she motioned towards Melchoir’s house. “See, there’s someone who can help! This Melchoir must be very kind for wanting to stay with us. Even if I’m not treated right away, the thought is enough to make me glad.”
      Emeralda nodded slowly, but murmured, “I feel left out. I’m the only one who doesn’t need this kind of treatment.” She looked around nervously and twirled a lock of green hair around her finger. It was just another reminder that she was different from the others. The green hair, the perfect body. She was above them. Too good.
      But she would have sacrificed all of the advantages of being a nanomachine colony to be like everyone else. To be accepted by them. To be a part of their culture, and not some outcast.
      “Oh, you should be glad that you don’t have to deal with this,” Jamie said. “I mean, it’s not like we all notice that you’re different from us all. Aren’t Fei and Sophia just like you too... they are not infected either? I mean, you’re not the only one. Open your eyes, and look around. There are probably more people like you than you think.”

      Taurus Melchoir glanced out of the window at the dark night sky. Streetlamps kept the city squares lit, and the people still stood outside, waiting for their turn. And to think, he did not have a cure for this virus. He hobbled over to his computer console in his large bulky suit that helped him with functions such as breathing. His body was a significant age, and he could not move around with help from the large cybernetic suit that he wore.
      Behind Taurus were large glass capsules the size of a human. There were a total of three of these, and each of them was filled with a green liquid. On the floor, wires were scattered all over the place as they laced from machine to machine. Every machine had a computer terminal, and there were a numerous amount of holographic projectors and LCD screens lying around. The room even had its own solar power generator set up outside. Bart had commented that there was more technology in this one room than there was in the entire Yggdrasil.
      Behind him, Citan worked, looking around the room in awe. Occasionally, he would read a report that was lying on the floor or look through the data on one of the computers.
      Melchoir accepted his next patient. “What’s your name?” he asked in his creaky, raspy voice.
      “Hassan, sir,” the man replied with a thick accent.
      “Outgrowths, eh? According to the data I have collected...” -he consulted a computer terminal, bringing up a holographic image of tumors similar to Hassan’s- “...your out... how long have you had the tumors for?”
      “About a month and a half, sir.”
      “Two of the outgrowths on your face are considerably smaller than the others. The one on your forehead and your left cheek look smoother and are of diminished size. Have you touched them, let someone else touch them....”
      Hassan shrugged. “Well, I would clean them and...”
      He was cut off by Melchoir. “Please go sit in the X-ray over there, please.”
      Hassan went over to a contraption that consisted of a large ring that was suspended over a chair. He sat in the chair and found that the ring wrapped right around his head. He realised that the ring was a track for something similar to a camera.
      Melchoir lumbered over to where Hassan sat, and fine-tuned the position of the ring. He twisted a few knobs, then a yellow plane of light scanned Hassan’s head vertically as the camera rotated around the track. Instantly, a wire-framed image of his skull appeared on one of the monitors. Melchoir adjusted the image and initialized the texture-modeling. He rotated the image and read the data readouts as he toggled the graphics mode, making the image of his head go from a photographic replica to a wire model to a blue outline with red splats of colour on the skull.
      “You haven’t ever have nanomachine treatment before, have you?”

      “I not know why it relax you to have me touch your wounds, Tony,” Emeralda said to a young teenage boy with a third arm growing out of his chest. Around the joint, the skin was cracked and constantly bleeding and leaking pus. His left arm was shrunken, as if the arm was attempting to relocate itself into his torso.
      The boy, who looked about thirteen, shrugged. “Your hands don’t hurt me. My hands hurt me. Even Mother Sophia’s hands sting my arm. The wind stings my arm. But your hands don’t hurt me. It is a good feeling to know that you can be there without hurting me.”
      An old man’s voice on a loudspeaker roared over the crowd, but it took Citan’s loud summons to put them to silence.
      “Is Emeralda around?” Citan asked into the microphone. “Melchoir wants to see you.”
      Emeralda raised her hand. “I here, Citan! Okay, Tony, I go now. I be back soon, though, to help you,” she added.
      “You’ve helped me so much,” the boy replied. “I can’t wait until you return.”
      She nodded and waved girlishly at him as she ran toward Melchoir’s hut, squeezing between the mounds of people who were crowded at the door.
      “You called?” she asked as she stepped inside, closing the door behind her. The loud chatter was silenced. The lab was packed full of equipment, she noticed. Along the back walls, there were tubes similar to the ones that she slept in when Kim was still around. She noticed that Hassan sat near a bookshelf, head down on a desk, no expression crossing his face.
      Melchoir wore a big bulky suit that made him look like an old astronaut. The suit surrounded his head in such a way that made it look as if it should have ended in a glass bubble similar to an overturned fishbowl. However, he wore no such thing. The man glared at her immediately upon her entrance. He needed no second glance to know that he was looking at the right person.
      “Have you been touching people?” he asked bluntly.
      “You mean what?” Emeralda asked, baffled.
      “Like Hassan. Over there. Did you touch his face at all?”
      Emeralda nodded meekly, conscious of being reprimanded.
      Melchoir glanced over at Hassan. “Could you leave us, please? I won’t be accepting any more people for a while, either. I want to start a few tests. I believe that I have enough information to complete my serum.”
      Hassan nodded wordlessly. He opened the door to exit, filling the room momentarily with the loud sounds of the tumult outside of his building.
      “You’re a nanomachine colony, Emeralda. Is that correct?”
      She nodded meekly.
      “Hyuga, are you still there?”
      Citan stepped up to the old man from around a bookshelf. “Yes, I am.”
      “Tell Emmy here what you think. She might be more inclined to believe you than me.”
      Citan stepped over to the young girl, and directed her to a chair. “Have a seat, Emeralda. Emeralda, did you know that your touch has been...”
      “Did I do something wrong?” she exclaimed, leaning out of her chair, eyes widening. If there was something she disliked, it was being reprimanded for her deeds. Kim did it once in a while, but it became commonplace when she went to school, when she lived under Krelian, and when she first arrived on the Yggdrasil.
      Citan immediately shook his head, recalling her fear. “No, no. In fact, you’ve done us a great miracle. When you touch people, nanomachines fall off of your fingers to other people... not unlike how dead skin cells flake from humans. Normally, they break down. But when your nanomachines encounter mutated flesh, the machines start fighting the deviated genetic code of the cells, and therefore de-mutate the mutated tissue.”
      “That means?”
      “When you touch people, you heal them.”
      Emeralda stared. At first, Citan thought she misunderstood, but when he opened his mouth, she lifted a finger to his lips.
      “I understand what they mean,” Emeralda murmured, nodding to herself. “They said my touch made them...”
      Melchoir interrupted the girl. “I want to check out the build of your nanomachines to improve the ones that I’ve built already. You, being a nanomachine colony, have almost unheard of capabilities... we can probably acquire enough nanomachines to heal the entire city! Will you cooperate, Emeralda?”
      She nodded eagerly without giving them a smile. “I told Elly I would help the people, as I couldn’t help them before...”

      Citan looked over the data readouts that Melchoir showed him. Behind him, Emeralda floated inside a glass capsule, something that she had not ever experienced since she was revived about a half year ago.
      “It’s amazing,” Melchoir said. “Under optimal sleep conditions, the nanomachines replicate at almost one million a minute. They can absorb energy from light and food, similar to how a plant or a human converts sugar to energy. Basically, she’s a living organism in almost every way.”
      “Except, she does not grow,” Citan said, removing his glasses and wiping the lenses with a white cloth. “They never replicate to more than the original amount that she was designed for. You’ll notice the logarithmic curve. There is the stable equilibrium point, there.” Citan sighed. “It’s Emeralda’s dream to grow up, to be an adult. She’ll never have that experience.”
      Melchoir nodded slowly, then changed the topic back to the nanomachines. “If we time it right, we can take a small amount of nanomachines from Emeralda and transfer them to the people in need. In addition to being easy to replicate, Emeralda’s nanomachines are five times more effective than mine are at fighting diseases and foreign tissue. Unfortunately, if we infuse people with too many machines, the nanomachines will destroy themselves after they repair the damage. But even worse, we might also harm healthy tissue if we’re not careful. The nanomachines aren’t designed to be ported to other beings... Emeralda’s have distinct genetic codes that might not be compatible with everybody. Chances are, if the person doesn’t heal if she touches them, her machines will do them more harm than good.” He glanced at the readouts again and rotated he genetic code on the monitor again. He wrote down the chemical content of Emeralda’s nanomachines again; Citan noticed that it was the third time he wrote the composition down.
      “Taurus?”
      Melchoir turned in his chair, slowly. “My own nanomachines don’t have any sort of genetic code. I can’t do anything to build them. My nanomachines don’t do anything except regenerate themselves. They do a poor job of merging with other human flesh. They’re slow. In fact, I couldn’t build anything more than a finger out of pure nanomachines. But here, Emeralda... she has her own code. She’s an entire colony... but that’s a rude term, for she is a PERSON. She has the characteristics of... was it Kim?.. and Elly. Kim was a genius to have built this. He puts me to shame.”
      Citan replied, “There are always the geniuses of the time, Taurus.” He sat down on the only other chair in the room, looking at the old man’s slumped figure. “The masters of now are what’s important.” His face broke into a slight smile. “It is good to know that there is still more in the world that you can learn, but it is also good to know that you have a base in someone else’s work, instead of having to discover it all on your own. You build off of what others know, and that is how we advance.”
      Taurus’ narrow mouth broke into a grin. “Well, I suppose you’re right. From these nanomachines, I’m going to refine my serum, but I don’t know if it’s going to work.”
      “More than enough people will come even if it doesn’t work. Any hope, any news, is health to them.”

      Elly nodded at Fei curtly, reminding herself to take deep breaths and not to get too nervous. He kept on looking at her with a sort of empty, but longing look.
      It was farewell for a while for the two. The location of one of the Anima Relics was discovered, and it was decided that Fei would help secure it. Chu-Chu, Billy, Rico, and Bart offered to go with him. Solaris was watching, Bart said, and they would sooner seek the Anima Relic than attack a town of refugees.
      “We’ll see each other again,” Fei said in his simple tones, gripping her hands and giving her a hug before he left. “It’s not a big deal. When you have these big boys backing me up...”
      Rico flexed his arms to accentuate Fei’s point. Bart imitated him, but the comparison of the much-smaller teenager and the large, muscular demihuman made Elly break out in fits of giggles.
      “At any rate, we’ll be back before the end of the week,” Billy announced. “Sigurd has this all planned. No one’s going to attack here... even if they do, we’ve purposely decided to leave Emeralda, Maria, and Citan here with their gears... your gear’s here too. I’m sure Citan and his Omnigear will be able to take care of anything.”
      Elly nodded, wishing that Billy would change the topic from battles and war. She had not stepped into her gear for almost a week. Not that she missed it, but she felt that it was odd not fighting. Before, when she first met Fei, he was trying to find his reasons to fight... and he was saying that it was better than doing nothing.... than not fighting. Both of them felt, at that time, that fighting was not the best way, but the only way.
      “Take care of yourselves.” Elly waved once, then turned away, ripping her eyes away from Fei.
      Fighting is not the only way, she thought. Now, she was not fighting at all. But yet, she was getting things done. She felt tired, however. Sometimes, all she wanted was to sit down and sleep, with no worries in the world. The Mother Sophia act gave her no rewards. It only served to initiate new pains inside her... the pain of knowing the basic, good qualities that she lacked. Emeralda idolized her. The people of Nisan idolized her. But all she really wanted was to be with her friends, chatting and talking...
      ... for some reason, Fei was the first image that came to her mind.

      The sun had disappeared from the sky hours ago, leaving the world turned toward the deadly cold of outer space. A black curtain of low, overcast clouds covered the city, embracing it with a warm, but dreary aura.
      The firelight served to relieve some of that loneliness.
      Elly sat on a stone bench. The campfire in the middle crackled as it burned its wood. Around the fire, behind the stone benches, children stood, gazing at her in awe, as if she would disappear if they came any closer. She noticed that many of them were looking dreamily at her, as if she could take away the pain of their mutations.
      “Don’t worry, you can come closer,” Elly said, lifting her arm in a gesture beckoning them to advance. “Sit down around the fire. It’s getting cold out there, but it’s warm over here.” She smiled softly. “Let the little children come to me.”
      The children hesitated at first, but one brave lad with an arm growing out of his torso, was the first to advance. He bravely sat down in front of Elly’s bench, sitting beside her legs. She smiled and placed a warm hand on his shoulder. The others began to follow, stepping over the benches to grab a seat that absorbed the warmth of the flames.
      “Let’s tell a story,” Elly said, lifting her tired voice just enough for everyone to hear. “It’s about a young girl who is trying to find her way.
      “Long ago, there were many cities on the ground. The cities were bigger than Nisan, even bigger the Bledavik. But the people in these cities were cruel to each other and fought many wars. Eventually, they launched so many weapons and chemicals into the air that they couldn’t breathe the air anymore. Many people died, and the ones who didn’t, began to mutate.”
      “Like us?” said a girl, with sad, pleading eyes.
      Elly nodded, slowly, lifting a hand to her face to rub away a stealthy tear.
      “Yes, just like you,” Elly replied. “This has happened before. It has all happened before.” She paused, looking at the eyes of her young audience. All of them were quiet, reflective on this fact. Then, Elly resumed her narration. “In one of the cities, there lived a man and his wife. The man was very angry at the humans for being so destructive. He also wanted to make the world safe for his children. But there was a problem. His wife couldn’t have children because the air was so polluted that it made her sterile.” Elly started to feel disjointed from the children as she spoke. In her mind, she could see the discussions taking place. She could see the apartment where the couple spoke. The wife crying at the results of a pregnancy test. The man gripping his fists and crying at his desk.
      It was a story, but what she was saying was not from her imagination, nor were they made-up details.
      “So the man went to his lab one day and used nanomachines to create his child. Nanomachines are very small machines that you can use to help fix human flesh. The machines that he used were so advanced that the end result looked almost exactly like a human. He made it so that the machines looked as if it was his and his wife’s real child. When she was created, he and his wife were very happy to finally be able to have a child of their own.
      “The man called this girl, his daughter, ‘The Last Hope of Mankind’.”
      “Why?” asked one of the children.
      Elly smiled. “Well, because she was made out of these little nanomachines, she wouldn’t be affected by mutations like normal people. She would be able to live without ever being hurt. The man raised her like his own daughter but the government found out about her and they wanted to use her as a weapon, and force the man to make more of them to help fight the war. The man refused, and he had to hide his daughter away. But they had to sacrifice their own lives to do it.
      Five men charged into the hallway as she watched. She could see them, out of the corner of her eye, raise their pistols. She only needed another half second. He needed only another half second.
      She felt something rip at her chest. She lifted a hand to the wound, staring at it in shock. She fell against the wall. Blood splattered all over the glass door. She slid, slowly, from the door, and lay, unmoving, on the floor.
      Elly bit her lip to prevent it from quivering. She looked up just as she finished her last statement. Emeralda’s face, at first a fuzzy image, emerged from the darkness, becoming a tangible sight. She stepped around one of the benches and sat down in front of the fire.
      “Wow,” one of the kids asked. “Where is the child, the ‘Last Hope of Mankind’ now?”
      Emeralda gasped slightly; Elly hid a grin. “Her name was Emeralda. Kim, the scientist, named her that because she had emerald-coloured hair.”
      The eyes of the children immediately went to the newcomer.
      Elly beamed. “The Last Hope of Mankind. You’re looking at her.”
      Emeralda glanced at Elly, confusion written on her face. “What just happened?” she asked. However, she let her confusion disappear and smiled at the children around her, who all stared at her. They did not come close, as if she were a ghostly illusion summoned by Elly through her story.
      One of the younger toddlers reached a courageous hand toward her thick hair. He let his hand rest on it, savouring the soft, natural feeling that the fibres had. He laced his fingers through it, then withdrew his hand, touching it, almost as if to see if anything had happened to it.
      Emeralda reached out and touched every child around her on one of their mutated areas, letting her thin lips curl in a peaceful smile.
      “It’s getting smaller!” one murmured.
      “It doesn’t hurt so much!” shouted a second.
      “You really are the ‘Last Hope of Mankind’, just like she is Mother Sophia!” cried a third, who pointed a finger at Elly.
      Emeralda’s mouth dropped open, but she closed it and just shrugged. “I not like Elly. She is human.”
      One of the kids yelled, “You’re more powerful than any human.”
      Emeralda shook her head. “I no more powerful than any of you. I may not be human. But I still be no better than any of you.”

      In two days, Emeralda became well-known in town. She was called the “Last Hope of Mankind” and others even whispered, “The daughter of Mother Sophia”. Even before Taurus Melchoir had his serum prepared, the mutations among the people were slowly beginning to decline, as if the existence of hope alone was the true cure for mutation.
      Elly was still considered as a symbol of peace, love, purity, and goodness to the people, as her resemblance to the revered Mother Sophia, in both body and mind, could not be ignored. But Emeralda was an image of hope, a Miracle Worker borne of the Great Mother, almost as if she was woven from thin air by a story.
      “I always knew you were special,” Hassan said to Emeralda as they sat at the Town Square’s public table, eating breakfast. Hassan was now wearing clean clothes, and his face was looking much healthier than it looked a week ago. He appeared relaxed, as if no longer in physical pain.
      Emeralda shook her head. “I not want to be remembered for what abilities I have. They all call me names, the name that Kim gave me. Though it... it now has meaning, it still not fill the hole in here.” She placed her fingers on her heart, the heart made of millions of microscopic machines.
      “No one knew you were the Last Hope when you first arrived. You gave me my peace even before I was first touched. Although everyone says it’s the touch that heals, I don’t think it’s just that. I think it’s more. The touch does nothing except to relieve the pain. Why does everyone like Mother Sophia? She does not heal, not in body.
      “She heals in mind,” Hassan continued, swallowing some of his oatmeal. “She sits with us, talks to us, plays games with us, sleeps in the beds we sleep in, eats our food, lives our lives. Just her being around us makes us feel as if we aren’t alone. Her being around makes me realise that we have to support each other.” Hassan’s eyes looked up at Emeralda.
      “You’re like Mother Sophia too. You care for us. If you’re treating one of us, the others wait. We talk with each other, and talk to you, like there was nothing wrong. You know what, I don’t think it’s even you or Mother Sophia or anyone. I think we all needed to realise that we need each other to live on. That we don’t live on our own.”
      “To be human is to love, but to love, you not only love yourself. You must love others,” Emeralda recited.
      “Right. You can’t just love yourself. It’s a start, but you have to love others too. But there’s no way to truly love unless you learn about them first. Love others and love yourself. Learn about others. Learn about the self. As you learn, you learn to love.” Hassan stopped abruptly, then he suddenly broke into loud laughter. Emeralda noticed that he didn’t wince or cry this time; he let out the laughter in full force.
      “What’s so funny?”
      He had to take a moment to recover from his outburst. “That felt good,” said Hassan. He looked up at Emeralda and grinned. “I’m here, talking like I’m some sort of professor, some philosopher. What do I know? You live with guys like Citan and Mother Sophia, who know much more than...”
      Emeralda cut him off by placing her fingers on his lips. “We are all allowed to think. All people are equal. Made equal. Who is to say that what we think is right or wrong?”
      There was silence.
      “But... you’re special... and you can...are... you’re better than....”
      Emeralda stood, her thick clothing rustling with the movement. “I be going now, Hassan. Bye!” She lifted her hand in a wave before she disappeared down one of the side streets.
      Hassan stared at where she had last stood, shocked at her sudden departure. Was it something he said? That he did?
      Something inside him felt strangely empty as he thought about why she left him so readily.

      Elly sat with Citan for a late meal in the middle of the town square. It was Maria’s suggestion, in fact, that they set up a large set of tables where everybody could eat together. The moon was dark in the sky, hidden behind a thick, overcast sky.
      Hassan stood at one end of the square, trying to gather his courage. Long ago, he used to be a soldier from Aveh, but due to an arm injury, he was cast out of the military and so he decided to retire to Nisan. He felt fearless during combat. He was one of the rare people who could face the machine-gun fire, the falling artillery shells, the spray of rifle bursts, and the falling rockets without hesitation. But yet, he shrunk back at the thought of asking Elly a simple question.
      At the moment, it was only Elly and Citan sitting at the tables. Everyone else had already ate or were asleep. The candles in the centre of the table cast a soft, potentially romantic aura over the table. Elly looked up at Citan, imaging, for a second, what it would have been like if they were actually on a date. The thought was so absurd that she started to snicker and had to hide her face behind her napkin and swallow before she sprayed food from her mouth.
      “What’s so funny?” Citan asked.
      Elly grinned. “Oh, it’s nothing. I was just thinking about how romantic the candlelight was and...”
      Citan’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Elly, are you okay?”
      “No, Citan, let me finish... it’s exactly that... the thought of you and me is just too funny.”
      Citan’s face turned into a mock frown. “What, I am too old for you?” he teased. But then he smiled and patted Elly on the shoulder. “Elly, you’re like my second daughter to me.”
      Elly smiled softly, and she opened her mouth to express thanks, but the words caught in her mouth. “Th-thank you, Citan.”
      Hassan watched this exchange, utterly fascinated. Away from other people, Elhaym seemed to be... to be human. He could see her flaws. The way her words caught in her throat, the slight dishevelment of her hair, the hesitant smiles that showed her bashfulness.
      Hassan stepped forward before he changed his mind. “Mother Sophia, Doctor Citan,” he called out.
      Both of them looked up sharply, surprised that someone was still around at this hour. “What is it, Hassan?” Elly replied, calling him by his name.
      Hassan kept a distance between himself and Elly. He bowed to her. “Mother Sophia, I want to... I want to ask you about...”
      “Don’t call me ‘Mother Sophia’,” Elly said curtly. “And don’t bow to me like that.”
      Hassan quickly lifted his body. “Sorry. I’m sorry...” His mind briefly flashed back to the thought he had when he was talking to Emeralda, about how Elhaym was being put on a pedestal.
      “Sit down.” Elly patted the spot on the bench beside her.
      “Moth... I mean, Elhaym,” Hassan corrected himself quickly, mentally pounding his brain. “I want to ask you about being elevated above everyone else. Being... put on a pedestal. I know I’ve been doing it too. But I want to know how you feel about it, being called ‘Mother Sophia’. Emeralda being called your daughter because she can help heal people.”
      Elly blanched. She turned her face away from Hassan’s and stuffed a fork-full of food into her mouth to buy her some time to find an appropriate response. She found herself wanting to lie. As soon as she admitted that she didn’t like being Mother Sophia, the symbol of the people’s hope, she knew that the others would stop believing, would stop trying to help themselves. She looked up at Citan, hoping that he could help her, but he stared back at her with questioning eyes, almost as if he were as eager to find out the answer as Hassan was.
      “How does it feel to be different from others?” Elly asked Hassan carefully.
      Hassan’s mouth opened suddenly, and he winced in pain as his skin stretched, but he quickly recovered his composure. She stared at him, not in an aggressive way, but with a glance what was simple, soft, but yet, revealing. Hassan’s mouth closed and he tightened his lips. “I’m sorry, Elhaym.”
      Elly lowered her head shyly.
      “Do you think Emeralda feels the same way, Elhaym?” asked Hassan.
      “Hassan, sit down,” Elly said before addressing his question. “Want to have something to eat?”
      The dark man shook his head. “No, thank you.”
      Elly placed her spoon into her mouth, then wiped her face with a napkin. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Emeralda thinks the same way I do. Hassan, no, I don’t like being put on a pedestal... being separated from everyone else. Really, all I want is... are friends.” She looked up at Citan and flashed a slight smile, then eyed the Aveh man again. “If people elevate you to some sort of divine level, it’s tough to just be friends with the people. But if I tell them that I don’t want to be called Mother Sophia... it...”
      “..ruins their hope,” Hassan finished. “They think that you don’t care about them.”
      “But I do!” Elly replied. “But I...” Her voice cracked and she dropped her spoon on the bowl abruptly. She fished around for it, acting as if nothing was wrong.
      “Elly,” Citan began.
      She waved her hand at him, brushing off his assistance. “No, I know I don’t want to be Mother Sophia. But if it’ll help people, then I’ll act the role for a little bit longer.”
      “At the price of your own happiness,” Hassan added.
      Elly glared at him fiercely, but inside, she knew it was true.
      “You’re sacrificing your own happiness for selfish people like me,” Hassan continued. “A person like me, who only thinks about what I want... forces you to play a role that you don’t want to play. I’m doing the same thing to Emeralda.”
      “You don’t have to think that, Hassan,” Elly said. “It’s just what people do... they’re grateful to those who try to help.”
      “I’m grateful, for sure... but I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. You, Elhaym, are so much better.... no, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” The former soldier looked straight ahead, at Citan’s emotionless face, then he turned back to Elly. “You just want to be like the rest of us... all equal. Like Emeralda... all she wants to be is...”
      And it came together in his mind. All equal... humans, mutants.... even Emeralda. He nodded to himself, then smiled.
      Everyone thought that Emeralda was special and better than other humans and all that. But he noticed her wistfulness when she was talked about loving others.
      Emeralda was being put on a pedestal, just like Elhaym. It alienated her from everyone else. All Emeralda wanted was to be with other people.

      Emeralda was seated on a grassy slope that led into the waters around the Nisan Cathedral. She glanced up into the dak sky, wishing that she could see starts.
      For her entire life, she was treated differently from others. The kids at her school in Zeboim acted like she was some sort of outsider. The people in her neighbourhood looked at her as if she was an alien. When Krelian found her, he tried to make her happy by giving her what she wanted. But there was something Krelian couldn’t give her, and that was acceptance. Then, when she arrived on the Yggdrasil, she was cast from the group of others. Elly didn’t want to speak with her, Kim... Fei didn’t know who she was, and even Citan didn’t want to talk to her. Now, in the Holy City of Nisan, she was elevated above them all, too good for everyone else.
      Emeralda pulled up some grass from the ground, then lifted her hand and opened it, watching the blades drift away in the wind, over the waters that reflected only the streetlamps from the bridge to the Cathedral.
      Hassan probably didn’t mean it like that, she thought to herself. For the entire day, she couldn’t shake the way she left Hassan... suddenly, abruptly. But the way he treated her... as some sort of idol... made her feel uncomfortable.
      “I’m sorry, Emeralda,” a low voice with a thick accent said.
      Emeralda relaxed her legs and shoulders and simply stared straight ahead over the waters.
      “I shouldn’t treat you differently because of your abilities. You’re my friend.”
      Friend. She never heard anyone call her a friend to her face before..
      Darkness was cast over her as Hassan walked into the white light from the streetlamps and blocked it.
      “I sorry too for just running away,” Emeralda said, eyes directed over the rippling waters.
      She heard Hassan step closer and sit down next to her on the grass.
      “I should have understood it better,” said Hassan. “I used to be an Aveh soldier. A captain of a squad, in fact. Once, we were directed to try to take a pass close to the border. It was guarded by machine gun bunkers. Our Colonel ordered us to advance onto it and strike.
      “It turned out that there were more guns than they had originally thought. As we charged forward, men were shot down left and right. I went forth, running as fast as I could toward the turrets, but the fire eventually got so thick that I ducked into a slight valley and ordered my squad to do the same. Ahead of me, though, three guys of my group went forward, having missed my order. One of them shot down a Kislev soldier that advanced on him, but he was gunned down by the turrets. However, another other infantrymen advanced on the group and wounded one of my friends before he was gunned down. They wisely got down in the thick grass, but if they weren’t careful, then they would be shot. My friend shouted loudly for his mother, for anyone to help him.
      “I had a reputation in the army of being fearless, but what I did next surprised me. I left my backpack with my squad, and against their wishes, I charged forward with my rifle. I went to my friend and I tried to help him, but he was too far gone... his leg was gone and his guts were spilled open on the grass. I had to give him a shot of morphine to put him down.
      “I managed to help the second soldier of my squad return, though. He was scared beyond belief, but I managed to keep him quiet, and we both got back, alive.
      “The first thing my second said to me was, ‘That was the bravest thing I ever saw, Captain. When we finish this mission, I will recommend you for the Red Stone.’ The Red Stone was the award for courage and sacrifice of one’s self to save another person. But I went to him and said, ‘If you praise me like that, I’m going to get you expelled out of the military so quickly and painfully that it would feel better being run over by a gear.’
      At that time, I didn’t want people to look up at me... to treat me better than the rest of them. In the battlefield, we were all equals.. And if we thought otherwise, it would have killed us. I should have understood you, Emeralda.”
      “Not many people understand me.”
      Hassan shook his head. “On that, you’re wrong. People are similar to each other. We don’t understand people completely, but we probably never will. But we always have those glimmers of similarity between each other. And you, you’re more like everyone else than you think. But... but if we elevate you, worship you.... you won’t be like everyone else.”
      Emeralda gave him little response. She drew her knees up to her chest, wrapped the scarf around her mouth, and stared straight ahead.
      “I’ll let you think it out. I want you to be my friend... you are my friend. But I know that you’ll never be my friend if I treat you like some sort of god. But you’re more like the rest of us than you think.” Hassan rose from his spot, then turned and walked away.
      Emeralda looked at the ripples of the water as they paced up and down gently. She had become the people’s Guardian Angel. Elly was the people’s Guardian Angel.
      But here Hassan was, looking out for her, what she wanted. Telling her things that she would have never thought of herself.
      Emeralda leaned back on the grass, letting the black sky lull her to sleep.

      Later that night, around the fire, sat Hassan, Jamie, Elly, Old Maison, and little Maria. They had come together in the evening for no particular reason but to talk. The sky was a dull black, void of stars. There were no signs of life at all, with the exception of their hushed whispers and nodding heads. Maria sat close to the fire with her knees hugged to her chest, when Maison addressed her.
       “So, Maria,” Old Maison said to her as she looked into the sky. “Have you figured out anything about why you’re fighting?”
      Maria’s gaze went back into the fire. “To be honest, not yet,” she replied. “I’m not fighting for myself. I’m not fighting for... no offense, but it doesn’t feel like I’m fighting for the people of Nisan either. Elly will probably disagree with me. Yep, I see her shaking her head right now,” she added as a tease even though Elly did not flinch.
      Maria flashed her a smile. “I was only joking. No, Maison, I don’t know why I’m here, or why I should be in the Yggdrasil instead of here or why there’s a reason I shouldn’t be here in the first place. All I know is that there’s something wrong out there. Krelian. Miang. They’re making people sad. I don’t know why I’m fighting. But it seems that it’ll make a difference against Solaris and their leaders. If it makes a difference, I’m all for it.”
      Maison leaned back and hid his smile. “Don’t worry, Maria. You’ll figure it out somehow. The answer is closer than you think.”
      The girl shrugged. “Yeah, well, I guess I’ll learn when I learn, huh? I have to figure out on my own why I fight... right?”
      Maison made a false show of not hearing her. Elly grinned.
      “Elhaym,” Hassan said suddenly, having vowed to drop the temptation of calling her by her informal title. “Why is it that you fight?”
      Elly’s smile faded. “I... I’m no longer fighting, I haven’t touched a weapon in weeks. I...”
      Hassan lifted an eyebrow and curled his lips. “You’re fighting, Elly. Against the pain, the suffering that you see. Believe it or not, wars don’t have to be waged by the sword. Wars against humans happen only because people symbolize other people as the sources of their pain.”
      Elly absorbed this for a moment. “I guess you’re right... Hassan, I fight because I want to relieve that pain I see. I don’t know when it was, but it’s like I’ve seen this all before, and that I’ve felt it myself.” A pause. “It’s a part of me... to see people... happy... and if they’re not, I’d do anything to help them.” She shook her head. “It’s all so selfish, though. I really do this because it makes me feel good. Just as I said. I can’t bear to see pain. I can’t bear to see people unhappy. It’s all me, me, me.”
      Jamie was shaking her head. Hassan, with a frown, cut Elly off with a slashing motion. The firelight reflected off of the stretched skin of his tumors, casting mysterious shadows over his face. “Did it ever cross your mind, Elhaym, that it’s not you at fault, but ours, for mooching off of your kindness, the resources of your friends, the lives of the people like Emeralda and Melchoir? Did it ever occur to you that you’re not wrong for helping us to help yourself, but that it’s us who are wrong for accepting your help, without ever giving anything in return...?”

      The serum of nanomachines was distributed that morning, mainly by the crew of the Yggdrasil. Not surprisingly, almost the entire population of Nisan was lined up for the administration of this mystical liquid.
      “It might not even work,” Melchoir had warned Citan earlier that hour.
      Citan could only shrug. “Even if it does not work, people would line up for it. There’s no stopping it. Taurus, are you that...”
      “No, it should work for the most part, but it’s not guaranteed and...”
      “No one will blame you for the deaths, Taurus.”
      Melchoir stopped. Although he was not fully convinced that he would be exempt from blame, the alternative not to administer his cure would be even more cruel. To raise the hopes of the people, only the shatter them...
      By that afternoon, no one had died. Not surprisingly, the serum did not work as well as Emeralda’s touch, for her touch was direct contact. However, it was acknowledged that Emeralda could not be everywhere at the same time.
      “You are the ideal model, the idol that the rest of us should be like,” said Tony to her that day in line.
      Emeralda shook her head. “You not want to be like me... always wondering, always asking questions. Answers never come.”
      The boy shook his head. “I always asked when I would get healed... when my left arm would come back... when the arm in my chest would go away. And now you’re my answer!” With that said, Tony leaned forward and clasped Emeralda in as tight a hug as he could manage, with his third arm in the way. Emeralda’s eyes snapped wide open with surprise, but she relaxed, patting the boy’s back with her hand.
      When Tony pulled away, she saw that he was crying. She always wondered why humans cried when they were extremely happy.
      “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” Tony said, wiping at his eyes. “Really.”
      Emeralda looked at him, eyes showing a slight tinge of joy. She smiled slightly; it was just a tiny curl of her lips. “Thank you,” she replied.

      As she walked away from him, she offered a smile and her soft, feathery touch to those who asked. She wanted to see Maria; she had not seen her in the last few days.
      On the marble bridge that led to the Cathedral, Emeralda collided into someone. She barely recognized the dark-skinned man until he reached out and gripped her shoulders to keep her from falling backwards.
      “That you, Hassan?” Emeralda exclaimed, taking a step back to get a good look at the man. His dark complexion was smooth and there were bald spots dotting his head between short black tufts of hair. He looked odd. But there was something about him that made him look good. Hassan had no more large, bulbous outgrowths. The smooth bumps on his face and the bald spots on his head were where they used to reside.
      “Bless the Holy Saints,” Hassan cried out. “Look, Emeralda, the outgrowths fell off! They fell off just an hour ago! Citan told me that your touch, combined with the serum that Melchoir made were what caused them to fall off. You wouldn’t believe how happy I am! I feel human!”
      “I happy for you!” Emeralda announced, giving the big man a hug, glad that she could be thankful just like the others were thankful for her. “But I don’t get you... you say you feel human now. But were you...”
      “... any less human before?” Hassan filled in for her, predicting her question. “You know, no, I wasn’t.” He stopped and stared off toward the tall spires of the Nisan Cathedral. “Being human’s not just what you look like on the outside, is it? Maybe, though, what we think about ourselves is echoed by what others think about us. If they know me only as a mutant... then I’m not human in their minds. But you might say that I’m just weak... that I don’t have confidence in myself. But guess what? I rely on what others think of me. I’m made by how I interact with others. What makes me is not only how I think and what I think, but what others think... about me, specifically. As I learn about others, I learn not only about them, but also what they think about me. You might not agree, Emeralda, since you’re so...”
      “I understand,” Emeralda replied promptly. “I know what it be like to be around others who see me different than how I see myself. And if affects what I think of myself. If they say bad thing about me, it hurts.” She raised her right hand, fingers outstretched. Her tanned skin almost glowed under the bright Nisan sun.
      “People in town used to make fun of me, and my hair, and my hands. Because I not be human. Because...”
      “But you look human! You don’t look like us mutants... you...” Hassan dropped his speech as he looked at a sudden change in Emeralda’s hand.
      Before his eyes, her hand rolled in on itself, becoming a smooth ball. Then the ball extended into a long blade. The blade separated into five slithering tentacles, lengthened to become a bouquet of flowers, shortened to look like a screwdriver, and even molded itself into a hand puppet of Citan. After this short, but dramatic display, Emeralda’s hand resumed the form of a human’s hand, a perfect model of what the ideal hand should look like, without any deviations at all.
      Hassan stood there, gawking at the show that could be compared, in his mind, to something like a fireworks display. His lower jaw was trembling. Emeralda looked at him. Her eyes were turned up toward his face; slightly narrowed and showing a touch of sadness.
      “That what people scared of,” Emeralda concluded. She turned around abruptly and began to walk away from the flabbergasted Hassan.
      “Wait!” he shouted, running after her. “I didn’t... I mean...”
      “People scared of what they don’t know,” said Emeralda. “I am nanomachine colony. People think it just mean I am like a perfect human. But I also can change form. I do it especially in battle, but otherwise I hide it from people.” She looked up at the sky. “Even my friends get scared when I use my body in battle.”
      Hassan bit his lip. “I feel so bad... staring like that. Out of everyone, I...”
      “I am used to...”
      “No! You tolerated me. You knew what I was like so many days back, and you still tolerated me for who I was! I should make my effort... saying you’re used to it doesn’t do anything. If you just say that, no one will change.
      “You’re a really sweet girl, Emeralda. I shouldn’t let things such as a morphing hand get in the...”
      “Thank you, Hassan.” She shifted her feet, staring at them because she felt uncomfortable giving Hassan her thanks.
      “I’ll try my best,” he said. “But I have a question for you... why did you show me that, when you knew that I might have been scared of you?”
      She turned toward him, gazing down at the ground, then looking up at Hassan. “You would have seen it some time. Better that you see now who I am. What I know how to do. So you know me in every way and not just in one.”
      “You want to be human, but you keep emphasizing the fact that you are not by your actions.”
      Emeralda nodded. “But I am what I am. I cannot change or hide it. It be better for me to simply accept who I am instead of playing a role.”
      Hassan glanced toward the grassy slope by the Nisan Lake, then motioned toward there so they could sit down. “Emeralda, is it really that great to be able to call yourself a human?”
      She looked back. “Humans have all these things I never would know! Why do they exist? By nature, they have feelings! They need to eat, sleep, whatever! It is in their blood. For me, I’m some sort of weird creature who does not fit in. I want to be like them. Like Elly, Margie, and Maria.”
      “Maybe it’s you trying to be so human that’s making you different. Okay, I know this isn’t a really good example, but do your friends... try to be someone they aren’t?”
      “Elly tries to be Mother...”
      Hassan shook his head. “No, that’s a bit different. Elhaym doesn’t try to be Mother Sophia. The people of this town won’t let her be anyone else. Around her friends... Elhaym is... Elly. She is herself. She doesn’t try to be anyone else. I wouldn’t be surprised if there are people out there who want to be like you, Emeralda. Perfect body, ability to morph the body, brave, courageous, compassionate. You know what I say? I say you should stop trying to be someone that you aren’t. Stop trying so hard. Just relax. Let yourself go. And let yourself be.”
      Emeralda looked up at him, an ear open to his words.
      “Well, that’s only what I think, though.”
      Emeralda laid back on the grass, placing her head on the cool green grass. “I think you think right.”
      Hassan felt surprised at this, but he managed to contain his shock.
      Emeralda smiled, letting her thick scarf fall away from her face. Her eyes were relaxed and full of life. Hassan had his own messages to bring. He was her angel.
      “Were you headed anywhere?” Hassan asked.
      “I was going to see Maria,” Emeralda replied to the change in subject. “Want to come?”
      “Sure. Say, you must be very good in the kitchen. I mean, with those...”
      “I don’t cook,” Emeralda replied succinctly.
      “Right... sorry.” They turned onto the stone marble bridge toward the Cathedral. “Actually, I think I want to help organize a feast. To say thank you to you. No, this isn’t some sort of worship session or anything. I want to help the people too. If we cook something good for them... maybe they’ll realise that it’s not just their precious Mother Sophia and the Last Hope of Mankind who can help them. If a regular guy like me helps too, then...”
      “I think that’s a great idea!” Emeralda exclaimed.
      Hassan smiled slightly and scratched a bald spot on his head, hesitating as he remember that there was no tumor there anymore. “I used to cook a lot before I went into the Army... you know, the standard Aveh dishes and stuff. Have you ever wanted to cook? One day, I’ll teach you.”
      “Teach me? I don’t even eat.”
      “Didn’t Taurus Melchoir say it’s healthier for you if you eat... you regenerate faster or something?” He shrugged. “Well, if you don’t want to learn, that’s okay.”
      Emeralda wrapped her fingers around Hassan’s wrist. “Actually I want to learn. I watch Maison cook all the time but he can’t afford the time to teach me everything. The chef makes good food too and I watch him a lot. But I don’t appreciate food because I don’t taste it well.”
      “Maybe you’ll appreciate it more when you learn how much work goes into its preparation,” Hassan said. He stopped at the large wooden doors of the Cathedral and pushed one open. “Right now, I want to see if any of the Nisan Nuns are around. They can help me with the dinner.”
      “Then maybe I cook too, to say thanks to you! After... I have to help you with something,” Emeralda replied. “I wish I knew how to do many things like you know!”
      Hassan looked back at her quizzically. “Emeralda, you’ve helped me more than you’d ever think.”

      “Did you find her?” asked a woman dressed in a white Solaris uniform. She ran her fingers through her long, violet bangs.
      The white-haired man nodded. His youthful face turned to the young woman. “She’s in Nisan, Miang.”
      “Are you going to bring her here... without losing her in the process, Krelian?”
      Krelian winced visibly at the implication in Miang’s smooth, velvety voice. “I won’t make any promises. She has strong friends.”
      “Yes, the Contact, and even an Omnigear, is alongside her.”
      “I don’t dare send Ramsus. He’ll lose again, or he will act recklessly and lose our prize. The Elements are tied up with the Anima Relic. And I don’t trust my other forces.” He looked up at the computer screen. “But there is no better time.”
      “Why don’t you go yourself, Krelian? I trust that you won’t get yourself killed. We’ve come too far. We still have the Solaris fleet if you need firepower.”
      Krelian sighed. Firepower wasn’t what he needed. “Where is Fei now?”
      “We left the clue about the Anima Relic,” Miang replied evenly. “He’s going there, along with Billy, Rico, Chu-chu, and Bart. Your elements are trailing them.”
      Krelian sighed again. “I wish you wouldn’t call them mine.”
      Miang smiled slightly, but ignored his comment. “If you want your precious Elly, now is the best time. The only gears present are Fenrir, Seibzehn, Vierge, and Crescens. You know Crescens like the back of your hand. You built her. Seibzehn and Fenrir can be taken out in your Omnigear, Gabriel. We can also back you up with the fleet. We do not need the people. All we need is Elly.”
      The scientist nodded. “You will draw as many forces as you can from the town?”
      “I’ll send two strike teams that will be as obvious as a dent in glass. That will draw most of the gears away.”
      “If I know Sophia... and I think I do, then she’ll want to stay by her people.”
      “We will drop you, in your gear, in the town’s centre, backed by two more teams. That’ll make nine versus three, plus Fenrir. Shall I start preparations?”
      Krelian inclined his head. Miang turned around and exited through the sliding door, leaving the man alone. He let out another deep breath. “How I dislike facing you, Sophia, as opponents... through the sensors of gears. But if I must be there myself before you understand what it is I am trying to do... then it will happen.”

      “Have you found out why you fight, Miss Emeralda?” asked Maison in his quaint accent. They were seated around the dinner table set up in the town square, with around twenty other people. It had been almost a week since Melchoir had distributed his serum to the people, and it had proved to be very effective. Many of the mutants were physically altered enough to look human. Although it did not cure everything, there were vast improvements throughout the town.
      In honour of the people, especially to Elly, Emeralda, and Taurus Melchoir, Hassan, along with the remnants of the Nisan sect, had hosted their feast. The sun was halfway down the sky when the revelry began, with the people dancing in the streets and starting to eat the appetizers that were handed out.
      “I haven’t had to do any battles,” Emeralda said to Maison. “I happy because of that. I love this place. It be peaceful here. Hard life, but peaceful.”
      “The price of freedom is eternal vigilance, so the saying goes. Yes, it is hard to make people happy, to maintain peace, and to guarantee freedom.”
      “That’s what I want. The people happy.” She looked over the gathering of laughing people conversing with each other giving each other hugs and kisses of gratitude. Emeralda smiled. “Could it always be like this?”
      Maison’s slight smirk faded. “Right now, we are unified against our common enemy. Solaris, the Gazel Ministry, Krelian, the mutation of the people. Look, we’re already solving one problem... but, unfortunate as it is, the less outside conflict there is, the less peaceful we are. Ignorance is bliss. But to be ignorant is to be bound... kept down by chains, to be unable to govern yourself and have your freedom. The price of freedom is eternal vigilance. Without the outside threats, the common menace, we lose our vigilance.” Maison sighed. “Humans are very fickle. We don’t seem to be able to focus on one thing at a time. If we look away from one thing, something else comes along. You see, Emeralda, happiness and love are only known if hatred is present.”
      Emeralda nodded. “I understand. There has to be a balance? Between hate and love? Freedom and ignorance? Vigilance and bliss? They all have to balance, right?”
      Maison gave no indication of approval. “I’ll let you find that out on your own, Emeralda.”
      The feast that evening consisted of lots of lamb and beef. When the humans were mutated, many of them failed to tend to their animals, but a few of the more diligent herded the livestock that were roaming free and kept them as their own. It was these farmers who slaughtered the plumper animals to feed the people. Many of the civilians had not had meat in months, and this was an immense treat to them.
      Emeralda politely refused the generous helping that was offered to her. Hassan insisted that she have it, and dropped the slice on her plate.
      “I give it to someone who appreciate it more,” she said, rising from her seat, plate in her hands. “She marched over behind one of the younger children, then daintily picked it up with her fork and placed it on the child’s dish. “I give it to you, who deserve this treat.”
      The people sat down under the orange sky and setting sun, laughing and talking happily when a dark, looming shadow drifted slowly over the central square.
      Emeralda looked up and was out of her seat immediately.
      “Battleship!” Elly screamed. “Don’t tell me that Solaris wants to bomb this place...”
      Citan’s loud voice rose over the general pandemonium. “Get the people to shelter! Maria, get to Seibzehn! Scramble all the forces we have!”
      Maria was already punching commands into her control box. “It appears they’re launching enemy forces!” Maria announced. “I see two squads of four gears, plus a number of marine transports!” Without waiting for acknowledgment, she ran away toward the outskirts of town. A gigantic purple gear flew through the air and landed heavily outside of Nisan’s inner walls.
      Elly and Melchoir, along with Maison, were rushing people inside their houses, ordering them to take cover in the basements. Maison looked at Emeralda, who looked around, hesitant to act, unable to understand what she wanted to do. She started to help move the children along, having made a decision.
      “Go to your gear, Miss Emeralda!” Maison cried.
      “I don’t know if I can fight... knowing no reasons...”
      “Miss Emeralda! This is no time to question yourself...”
      From the skies above, a large, silver-plated gear was launched from the Solaris battleship. It held a large sword in one hand. The shining gear reflected the light of the setting sun, making the entire machine look like it was made of fire. It flew around the air, powered by blue jets on its feet. It cut its engines and started to fall, feet first, toward the town square. People screamed loudly, dashing and pushing each other out of the way so they would not be the ones who would be caught underneath the gigantic metal feet.
      Emeralda needed no more convincing. Although she still felt unsure of herself, she dashed off toward the closest town gate, summoning Crescens in her mind. She looked around her as her little legs powered her run. Citan was dueling it out with three other white gears, and Seibzehn fought two large opponents while trying to fend off infantrymen that were attempting to attack the gear.
      A loud crunch sounded as the silver gear landed, sending rock and debris flying all over the place. Emeralda dared a glance. The gear had flattened a house. She beckoned Crescens to come faster.
      Her silver and emerald gear, racing toward her position at a breakneck speed, stopped abruptly and clicked its heels together, wings flapping gently. On command, the gear knelt and Emeralda scrambled up the gear’s leg and leaped into the cockpit.
      She felt at home in the pilot seat, safe and protected. But yet, she did not feel right in her gear. Emeralda commanded Crescens to leap toward the Silver Machine that was now just outside of Nisan’s town square, eyeing the ground with its red sensors and picking up houses with its hands. A sabre was sheathed at its side, ready to be drawn in case of battle. Crescens landed gracefully two metres above the ground, floating gently in the air in front of the large gear. The silver humanoid gear looked up, its two red eyes sweeping over her. The intricate golden pattern on its breastplate and the unique missile racks on its shoulders told her that this was no ordinary gear. She recognized it as Gabriel.
      “Emeralda, Crescens,” said a familiar voice.
      Emeralda stared at her opponent, then lowered her wings around her body in a battle stance.
      “Do you remember me? It’s Krelian.”
      The artificial heart in Emeralda’s chest skipped a beat. “K-Krelian?? Who took care of me after Kim left? Who built Crescens... for me?”
      “Yes, Emeralda. I’m glad that you still remember.”
      Emeralda remembered it perfectly. Although she rarely confessed it to her friends on the Yggdrasil, the day that Krelian had given her Crescens was one of the happiest of her life. She could feel the glee course through her as she realised that there was now a gear that was her own, that was, in essence, made of her own flesh. She remembered hugging Krelian after that in a tight embrace.
      In many ways, Krelian was a good man. But now, Emeralda stared in shock at his actions. “Why do you attack the people?”
      “I seek one person,” came his reply. “I seek Sophia.”
      “Elly,” Emeralda corrected. “She was Elly, who raised me from birth, from who I am constructed from. But she is now Elhaym, who born in Solaris and joined our side.” She looked down on the ground. An auburn-haired figure could be seen, waving her arms at the people, chasing them away from the two gigantic gears. Krelian also caught sight of her.
      “She is only one person,” Emeralda continued. “She cannot be both Elhaym and Sophia.” Emeralda’s mind flashed over to her conversation with Elly, then the one with Hassan. Stop trying to be someone that you aren’t.
      Krelian snorted. “Sophia... I knew her as Sophia, and love her as Sophia.” His arm reached for Elly. On the ground, she began to run, eyes wide with terror.
      Emeralda lunged forward and kicked up with one of Crescen’s legs, blocking his progress. “Krelian! What you doing? Leave my friends alone!” She tried a cut from under his embow with her wing, and sparks flew as the appendage hit the strong metal. Emeralda cried out with the effort. The other gear much stronger was stronger than Crescens’ fragile frame. “I won’t let you take Elly!” Emeralda cried out.
      Krelian gave her a slight “Hmm”, but then lifted his other arm and pushed Crescens roughly away. The gear tumbled backwards but saved herself from a fall by hovering with her wings.
      “Krelian! Please don’t fight!” Emeralda shouted.
      Gabriel swept over her with his gaze, then reached out for his treasure again.
      Elly gasped and dashed off in another direction. She looked up at Crescens, who was reaching forward toward Gabriel. One of the townspeople, Hassan, ran beside her protectively.
      Emeralda lunged forward from her crouch, wings outstretched. The silver gear’s hand was open, and was about to wrap its fingers around his prize when Hassan made a dive, pushing Elly away from the spot. She dropped to the ground and rolled. Krelian’s gear looked up in surprise as his arm slammed into the cobblestones, totally annihilating Elly’s protector. Emeralda saw the blood smeared over the silver gear’s hand. She screamed.
      Crescens’ wings flew through the air in a vicious overhead slice, but Gabriel reached out with a hand and grabbed Crescens. He squeezed her wing roughly, scattering the green feathers over the town. Hassan’s blood dripped slowly onto her gear. He started to circle around Crescens, trying to get another chance to reach for Elly.
      “No! I won’t let you take Elly!” Emeralda cried through gritted teeth. She felt her eyes water as the blood from the large gear’s hand dripped to the ground. She concentrated on the task of trying to move his arm away, sweating from the exertions, but Gabriel had a tight grip on the wing. Emeralda winced as she felt her flesh in her arm contract with pain.
      Krelian sighed through the loudspeakers. “Why protect her? Did she love you? Does she love you like a mother should? Do the others love you? Emeralda, does anyone truly care about you? Does anyone love you? They look at you, and see a creation, perfect above all others. They worship you as a goddess, only to steal your favours for their own selfish reasons. They be your friend, but intend to take your love away.”
      Crescens, straining under the force of the silver gear’s arm, put all of her weight into the wing and forced the Omnigear back, forcing him to let go. He wavered a bit, but recovered his balance easily.
      “Emeralda, who truly loves in this world? Why do you fight me? I am doing nothing to hurt you. All I want is to make humans into the people they are supposed to be. I need Elly to do this. You see the suffering in the world. You know of the wars, of the mutations, the sadness of death. Yes, the Last Hope of Mankind, perfect in every way, is a lone star, a beacon in this world of imperfection. All I want, Emeralda, is to create a world without death and destruction, mutation and handicap, war and disease. I want to make the world free of those who are selfish, those who are evil, and those who lie to themselves. I want to create a god that will actually listen to the cries of the people, and to help them in their times of need. Kim created you in the hopes that all this would come about, Emeralda, for you are the perfect being. What I want is what Kim always wanted.”
      “He had always dreamed of a world free of war,” she said. A feather fell from one of the Crescens’ wings, floating gently through the air. “Kim...” Emeralda murmured. “Kim always wanted humanity to be better.” She felt something fall down her cheek, leaving a trail of salty water. “Kim created me so there would be a change. He wanted me to be his Last Hope... a Last Hope For Mankind.... to be a better place, with no wars, no mutations, and no disease.” She felt her voice choking on her words. “But... what you do is kill. You don’t love, Krelian... you made me fight. You told me it was to help make the world better for humans.” She looked down at the running people, the prone bodies. The world seemed to flow by in slow motion as she watched from Crescens’ cockpit.
      Elly was still there, shooing people into safe havens. Humans were running away. In the distance, she saw Solaris troops approach the inner gates. Beside her, Citan, in Fenrir, held out his sword, parrying blows easily from one of his opponents. Maria was by the gates, trying her best to stop the inflow of Solaris marines. A stray missile flew over the town, slamming into a stone bridge. Maison, on the ground, was running from the battle. He had a girl in his arms. It was the girl she had shared her meat with just a few minutes ago.
      “There can be no world with no war,” Emeralda said, wiping at her face in a futile effort. “As long as people love, they will fight when their love conflicts. But no one will know love... unless they also know hate. Those who know hate... must learn to control it.” She lowered her head.
      Inside her mind, she saw an image. It was Elly, smiling down at her. Then she saw Hassan; she didn’t even have a chance to say good-bye. Tony then gripped her in his tight embrace. Maison, giving her a clue to the answers. Maria. Citan. Fei.
      She saw the people of Nisan, looking to her with hope in their eyes, happiness in their faces, and a desire to live. The world circled past her in black and white, in slow motion. Children laughed when she was around. Behind her, Elly wiped the faces clean. Taurus Melchoir gave another injection to a child to cure his diseases.
      There was Citan, wrapping up the open sores of an injured man. Maria and Margie helped a woman eat her dinner. She saw Hassan cooking food for the people as thanks. He was supposed to teach her to cook so she would be able to thank others with her own cooking.
      Emeralda wiped a tear from her face. She was angry at Krelian for taking his life. But she was sad, too, that he wanted to fight.
      Images flashed through her mind: images of all the people she loved, and also loved her back. She stared down Krelian as her memories came alive, showing snapshots of her past.
      “I fight so we all have our chance to love,” Emeralda said. “So we call can feel our happiness... so everyone, and not just a few, can share love.”
      The images flew past her eyes. Emeralda smiled; it was a teary smile, but a smile nonetheless. Suddenly, the pictures began to slow down. She saw Krelian, smiling at her as he showed her the angel, Crescens for the first time. Then, her eyes saw Kim. Kim rarely smiled.
      But here he was, a gentle smiling gracing his youthful face.
      One day, I hope you will live in a peaceful world without war. But that might not be possible. People will always be mean to each other. But Emeralda, my daughter, I want you to remember that no matter what happens, make sure you love others, and love yourself. When you love, then anything can happen. But when people share love with each other, goodness reigns.
      Crescens wrapped her wings around her head, prepared to pounce. “I fight so we can all love, Krelian. Not only you, but for me, for Elly... for Fei, Tony, Maison, Maria... everyone. And I will fight you so you will not steal all of the love from the people.” Crescens was in a battle position, wings curled and ready to strike. She had little chance against Krelian and Gabriel. Her left wing was ruined. But she was prepared to guard Nisan and its people. She was prepared to protect Elly from Krelian’s selfish wants. The angel, Crescens, lifted a wing, light legs ready to leap into the air. “Stop this, Krelian. I don’t want you to be hurt. I knew you before... and how you cared for me. We can all live together. I don’t want to fight you. But I don’t want you to hurt others, either. What you do, you take Elly, hurt the people, is one-sided... only for yourself. We can all be friends like we were before. What do you really want, Krelian? To destroy everyone? Or to love, to share love with the rest of humanity?”
      Krelian made no move. In a tense moment, he stared ahead at Crescens, and then he lifted up a hand in a ‘stop’ gesture. The world around him seemed to cease motion. The Solaris soldiers stopped charging. The gear stopped attacking Citan. The missiles stopped falling. The gear’s head bowed slowly.
      Emeralda could see the sadness in its eyes.
      “I wish I could answer you, my angel of humanity, Emeralda,” Krelian said softly. “You have learned a lot, and you are willing to share your knowledge with others. But, best of all, you have taught yourself what you needed to know.” Gabriel’s boosters fired up, and he began his slow descent into the air. “You do not simply follow what you are told. You follow your heart.” There was a pause. “If only everyone followed their hearts, I could cease my foolish struggle. But until we all do, I cannot desist. Until we meet again, Emeralda.” Krelian’s silver gear turned and flew at high speeds toward the large Solaris battleship, firing its blue afterburners. “Farewell.”
      She could hear the sadness in his voice, the turmoil within. Emeralda stared as Gabriel flew back into the sky. Krelian was an angel too.
      Fenrir and Seibzehn began to pursue, but Emeralda pleaded for them to let him go. Even the Solaris soldiers backed away, peacefully, from the town.
      Crescens knelt on the ground and the hatch on her head opened up. Emeralda scurried down the gear’s arm, and when she touched the firm cobblestones of the Nisan streets, she was greeted with hugs from Elly.
      “What did you say to him to make him go away like that?” Elly asked. “I thought... I... that you would have...”
      Emeralda returned Elly’s hug, but there were tears on her cheeks and a sad smile on her face. “I told him what I felt in my heart,” she replied.

      Emeralda stood to the side as she watched the coffins lower into the ground. She loved these people almost as much as her own family on the Yggdrasil. Something ached in her heart even though she did not know the names of all of those who had perished in the battle. Many of them died in the few moments when she hesitated about going into battle. But Hassan had sacrificed his life to save Elly.
      More than ever, she knew why she had to go forth. It was to prevent deaths like these. It was to guarantee that everyone loved... for their entire lives.
      It would have been a shame to die before sharing all you had to share.
      As she saw the coffins rest in the hole, something else tugged at her.
      Emeralda did not have the mortality of the other humans. She was not subject to aging, disease, or mutation. But she still thought for herself, believed in things, and had feelings. The mind that Kim gave her was as human as anyone else’s mind.
      Elly stood up, dressed entirely in black. “Today,” she said, in a crisp, clear voice, sharp as a herald’s trumpet, “We oversee the committing of three valiant souls to the earth, Jasef Merrarhad, Hassan Haryiam, and Amy Newson, into God’s hands. All of them suffered through the hard, physical life, but will not be able to live without the worry of wars, disease, mutations, and death.”
      Emeralda wiped her face with the heel of her hand. She didn’t have to worry about disease, mutations, or death. She began to feel guilty.
      The service carried on as Elly finished her eulogy, then she ceded the floor to let the families of the dead speak. Unfortunately, Hassan had no family left, and Elly stood in the place of his family to speak about his philosophical outlook on life, his desire to help others, and his wish to give, and not to receive. Elly looked over the people with a calm gaze. “Hassan wanted to help in any way he could, whether it be by gracing people with his cooking, giving others a much-needed hug, or saying something that comforted the mind and soul. In the end, he gave all he had, and received absolutely nothing when he made the ultimate sacrifice to save my li... my life... oh, God!” Elly suddenly cried out, voice full of anguish, knees buckling. “What ever made me more worthy to live than Hassan? Oh God!!! Why was it me who lived? WHY ME?” With that, Elly collapsed on the podium, sobbing violently into her hands and moaning about how she should have been the one to sacrifice herself for the people; how she was no better than Hassan.
      And Emeralda watched, wordless, knowing that if she had only acted sooner, if she had only been more sure of herself, then all of them would have lived.

      Maison found her by the ruins of the city centre, marked by two gigantic footprints that permanently indented the paved cobblestone road. The afternoon sun was high in the sky, spreading sparkles of light over the tarnished bronze of the bronze Nisan rooftops. She was sitting by a large circular imprint, made by Gabriel’s fist. Her emerald hair was tossed gently by the wind as she stared into the shallow pit.
      “They couldn’t even find a body,” she said.
      Maison stopped beside her. “You can’t bring him back by sitting like this, Emeralda.”
      Emeralda didn’t respond.
      “If you want to let it haunt your mind, then you can do that. You can also let it be a memory instead of a nightmare.”
      “I hesitated. I didn’t know what to do,” Emeralda said.
      “I may sound harsh for saying this, but sometimes, that is the way we must learn,” Maison said, biting his lip. “It’s not the nicest thing in the world. When this happens, then the most we can hope for is to learn. When you experience pain, you learn to ask your questions. And you find your answers. I too, had to learn this way.” He sat down beside her.
      Emeralda looked up at him, her blank expression not changing.
      “When I was still young, my father was insistent on training me as an Imperial Royal Guard. He emphasized the idea of honour, defending those who were in danger, and being so sure of one’s abilities that one did not hesitate in battle.
      “However, back then, my dream was to be a scholar so I could study philosophy. I learned to ask questions, and to never be certain about anything in life. However, I still trained hard as a Royal Guard.
      “One day, my friends and I were out on a night. I was with an ally of mine; he was also training with me as a Guard. That night, a group of anti-monarchists ambushed our group. They exclaimed their wish to fight with us. My friends lifted their weapons in self-defense, but I kept my sword sheathed, trying to understand their position. I tried to be diplomatic and talk it out, but they wouldn’t listen. Two of the swordsmen proceeded to attack my ally. I had my own blade in my hand, but as I went in to strike, I stopped, not sure if I was doing the right thing.
      “My friend died that night on the Bledavik streets from blood loss.
      “From then on, I trained hard. I wanted to make it my goal to guarantee that there would be no oppression in the government, that people like those anti-monarchists would never take over. When Shakhan attacked Bledavik, I escaped the city with Bartholomew. King Fatima handed me his son as the bars to the throne room were breaking down. He told me to take him and protect him. Even though it hurt for me to leave my liege, I went anyway in order to save the Young Master. I didn’t hesitate.”
      Maison took a breath, the reached into his pocket to withdraw his kerchief. He blew his nose casually, trying to hide the emotions that crept up on him.
      “I never knew,” Emeralda said.
      “Not many do,” Maison replied.
      Emeralda started back into the hole. “I was thinking...” she started. “During Hassan’s funeral. I... I am not going to die of natural causes, ever. What I told Krelian yesterday... about letting all people share their love... it is so much against what Kim wanted. Kim wanted a perfect world with no mutations, no wars, no suffering. Krelian wanted to do the same thing as Kim... stop wars and conflict among mankind. Krelian told me, as he was leaving, that if people followed their hearts, then he could stop his struggle, and he congratulated me for thinking on my own: for following my heart.
      “But Krelian was so close to his goal. Why did he so suddenly leave? If he wanted everyone to follow their hearts, wouldn’t he want to go for his goals too? To take Elly? Or did Krelian...” she broke off as her thoughts started to flow inside her mind, making her come to a realisation.
      Maison turned his head toward her, staring into her eyes, but he did not reply.
      Emeralda nodded at Maison, then looked first into the crater, then up into the air. “I understand,” she said. “I know I understand.” She felt the tears flow into her eyes. “Hassan was such a good man. I hope I can teach in his memory... teach others about how to deal with the pain. I wonder, too, if Krelian knows the answers for sure. I don’t know if I’m right.”
      “Experience, Miss Emeralda. It’s all in experience.” Maison pointed to his heart. “When you find the answers to your questions, you know. If you are willing to let the answers into your mind, you will know.”
      Emeralda felt warm inside. Kim created her to be the Last Hope of Mankind.
      Emeralda, you are different from the rest.
      She knew why.
      You will change the world.
      She knew how.
      Follow your heart.
      Krelian’s words. She understood those too.
      “You do not have to know everything to preach your message,” Maison continued. “All you do, when you teach, is to help them acquire experience. You assist them in their road. When I tell you things, I do not want to feed them to you. I only want to make the signs familiar.”
      Emeralda nodded, slowly at first, but her head sped up as she comprehended what Maison was talking about. “I am going to take it one step at a time. I have thousands of years to learn. I have thousands more to teach. But not everything I can teach others. Others have to learn, too.
      “Until then, I do something... I cannot sit and do nothing like you say.” She stared into the crater again, and took a few breaths, feeling the tears come to her eyes and flow down her cheeks. She shut them tightly, hoping to blink the sadness away, but she was smiling.
      Emeralda nodded her head. “Come on, let us see where Elly and Maria are.”
      She turned way from the site and walked briskly over the Nisan streets to find her friends. Maison had to start at a gentle jog to keep up with her.