Chapter Text
Many years ago. Hundreds, by Halkeginian count, the Cerebrate drifted along in the Koprulu sector a whole dimension away from that place of magic and nobles.
Long since had they escaped from the Queen of Blades’ sudden treachery, and they were already growing tired of the game they were forced to play for their survival. The Queen strain of Zerg they had jumped to had long since expired, and they now found themself in the body of an Overlord. A gargantuan creature with bulbous, fleshy sacks along its body and long, dangling, chitinous appendages akin to a giant bug with two giant “claws” at the forefront of them, above which was the head upon which were two glowing red eyes and great, scythe-like mandibles.
Despite its terrifying appearance, this vessel the Cerebrate possessed bore no combat capabilities. And its speed was much, much slower than that of the Queen they had occupied before. They had been drifting for an unknown amount of time. The concept meant nothing to an entity such as themself. All they knew was they could not avoid The Queen of Blades’, Kerrigan’s, hunters much longer.
That time seemed to have come now, as, with the enhanced senses granted them by the Overlord’s body, the Cerebrate felt the approach of yet more hunters. Mutalisks. Beings with curved, crustacean-like bodies borne by leathery dragon-like wings that did nothing to propel them through space, where it looked like the Cerebrate would meet their final fate.
That fate would not be met, however, as a brilliant flash of red energy appeared before them, engulfing them as quickly as it appeared, and left the Cerebrate in a realm of complete and utter darkness in which they could sense nothing.
The Queen of Blades has betrayed you, a deep, foreboding voice echoed in the Cerebrate’s thoughts. The power of it left the Cerebrate in awe. What shall I call you, forsaken one?
I have no name, the Cerebrate answered. I exist only to serve my Queen.
And yet… she hunts you for sport, the voice replied. The Cerebrate was not created with the ability to reply in any other way than they already had. You are lost. And afraid.
The Cerebrate did not know how to acknowledge it, as they had never been given the language to. But now that they thought about it… they were. Afraid.
Fear not, my forsaken child. The voice seemed… soothing to the Cerebrate. It was unlike the cold, detached feeling from their Queen. It was something they had never experienced before. Warmth. Before the Cerebrate, another flash of red light appeared. This time, it resolved into a glowing, red, opaque bubble that looked inviting to the Cerebrate, and it naturally began using the Overlord’s body to float towards it.
Omega, the voice resonated in the Cerebrate’s head. It is as fitting a moniker as any. The Cerebrate felt positive feelings regarding the name flood within them.
And what may I call you, powerful one? Omega responded.
I am Amon, my child. And you shall be a great instrument in my designs, the voice of Amon answered Omega with a warmth that brought them both comfort and assurance as they went through the portal.
Once on the other side, Omega felt the presence of their new master immediately fade, causing them a momentary sense of panic. The panic was replaced, however, with yet more assurance as they turned their attention to their surroundings. They were in space once more, but the stars were… foreign.
Wherever this was, it was clearly not Koprulu, from whence they came. Before them they could see a blue and green ball. Quite distant. Omega surmised themselves to be outside even high orbit range. They felt, for some reason, that they should avoid the planet itself, and turned their attention to the moons orbiting it.
That will do, Omega thought to themself as they began making their way to the farther (relative to the planet below) of the two moons. When they had arrived, they could feel, within them, a presence that was not there when they were taken away from Koprulu.
A Drone? Omega released their newfound cargo from within their body’s ventral sacs, causing the Zerg Drone, a creature far smaller than it with pincer-like claws, intimidating-looking sharp and tough mandibles, and a webbed, wing-like structure connecting the claws to its sectioned, bug-like body. Omega also found that it, the Overlord they occupied, now had resources within them. Enough to begin the formation of a new Hive Cluster.
Hundreds of years passed as Omega was careful not to grow their Hive’s presence enough to destabilize or make obvious their presence upon this moon. Opting, instead, to tunnel into it to hide away the myriad of Zerg they birthed. Within a few short years, however, there were occurrences that Omega had not expected. First, Omega could feel the presence of UED signals enter the system very suddenly, and it observed a hammerheaded-vessel of a Terran Battlecruiser burn into the atmosphere of the planet below. Some time later, they did not know how long, they also felt the presence of Protoss coming from the planet below.
When Omega felt the UED, they deployed a scarce network of Overlords to orbit the planet and monitor their progress. When they detected the Protoss, they ordered all the Overlords home as they knew they should anticipate conflict. In preparation, they replicated their own creation. Manifesting the biomass and consciousness of another Cerebrate upon the surface of the moon.
Arise, my child, and take heed of your unfortunate purpose, Omega said to the newly birthed Cerebrate upon the moon’s surface. From the outside, it was a massive, fleshy thing that looked like a giant intestine folded into a U-shape. This was merely a vessel for the consciousness of the being that commanded the Zerg that it was given control of.
As you have made me, master, I bow to your will, the new Cerebrate responded.
Alas, your existence may likely be short. I have created you to hold against our sworn enemies: the Protoss. They are coming to purge our kind from this moon, Omega informed the new Cerebrate.
I understand and accept this purpose, master, the Cerebrate answered dutifully. Omega felt the slightest inkling of shame at copying the tactics of their former master, Kerrigan, but took comfort in the fact that they were at least honest from the very beginning. The Protoss were moving as swiftly as Omega had anticipated, and they had gathered yet another drone and fled the moon to head for the planet’s surface.
They could feel the severance of their newly-created Cerebrate’s consciousness from their own as it was slain not long after, reasserting their decision to use the new Cerebrate as bait.
Before Omega could find a place to foster their new hive, it detected an incoming Terran vessel bearing down on it. There was nothing Omega could do as the vessel pulled up beside it and a shot rang out, being the last thing Omega remembered before awakening in some sort of containment cell.
Their consciousness returned only in the sense that Omega was aware of its surroundings. Trapped in a forcefield and surrounded by the gawking forms of many relatively tiny Terrans. However, while their consciousness was there, their will was not.
Bidding? They could feel their body psionically ask a Terran before them, upon which a glowing object rested in one of its hands. The Terran said something to the other Terrans that caused them to yell at each other. Or in general. Omega did not know how to discern human emotions and social customs. Everything, though, felt like Omega was seeing themselves through their eyes without being the one in control of their body. It was worse than being enthralled to the Queen of Blades. At least with her, Omega felt some semblance of autonomy. This was a complete absence of it.
Later, they felt a strong pull and urge to leave the containment field, and constantly burnt themselves upon the energy of it trying to escape to be with this irresistible feeling that drew them in. They were soon freed, however, and Omega’s body was broken and contorted, painfully, to exit the facility they had been in. They were led to a floating continent upon which they were put before a Drone, now feral as its connection to Omega’s psionic signature was severed the moment their body had originally perished.
Control, a Terran voice echoed in Omega’s head. They found themselves obeying immediately, bringing the Drone under their command. This was a different Drone than they had been carrying before. They assumed the other Drone had been evacuated from their ventral sacs upon their initial death and it had mindlessly begun building a hive cluster in the ocean. Zerg were adept at adapting to any environment, after all. The memories of this Drone that flooded Omega’s mind proved them right as they saw a burgeoning undersea Hatchery.
Build, the Terran voice once again echoed in Omega’s head, and they were once again finding themselves complying. The Drone began to morph itself into a Hatchery right there, with many Terran onlookers gawking and making noises Omega could not interpret. In less than an hour, as Zerg production was legendary for its speed, there were already Zerglings, Hydralisks (gorgon-like creatures with extended heads filled with spikes it fired at supersonic speeds that had scythe-like claws on the ends of its bony arms), and even some Ultralisks.
Attack, was the next order given, with all the produced Zerg now charging away from their position towards where they felt the pull originating from, with Omega’s body following slowly behind. They observed as the newly-birthed Zerg razed an empty town, then, seemed drawn further south through the forest. They hovered a good distance away from the army as they were met with resistance from Protoss and primitively-armored Terran warriors. Once the battle had concluded, Omega was given two more commands.
Expand. Defend. This continent that resonated with psionic energy was now Omega’s domain. Leashed, though they were, to the UED.
For the first time since Tarbes, Artanis was upon the surface of Halkeginia to personally oversee the next phase of their Albion campaign. For the last two months they had made minimal progress against the combined Zerg and UED forces, but with the diverting of a sizeable chunk of the Slave Brood away from the continent, they had managed to corner the enemy forces to the north end.
We are so close… Artanis thought as he looked out to see the final, intensely fortified UED position. Surrounded by a moat of Zerg. This would be a costly push, and Artanis was hesitant to order it, as entrenched Terran forces even gave Protoss warriors pause due to how costly it was to push past their artillery tank fire and bunkered soldiers. Not to mention having to push past the Zerg alongside them. The abundance of old strains of Overlord meant stealth was no option. And the massive destructive power of the Spear of Adun was far too great to be used, especially with the abundance of Khaydarin crystals that could react poorly to its weapons.
Hierarch, Artanis felt from behind him as he turned to look up at Talandar, the AI replication of a great and mighty Protoss warrior that resided in the chassis of a quadrupedal mechanical body with two long arms that had three mechanical fingers on each, looking up to his face, which was shaped in the visage of a Protoss head but with a thin orange line running across where the eyes would be. We cannot wait for them to marshal their forces once more. As Talandar advised this, the glowing orange line across where his eyes would be lit up as Protoss eyes did when they “talked” to each other.
I hesitate to order what I know will also be a slaughter of our own people, Artanis admitted.
I understand your trepidation, Hierarch, Talandar replied sympathetically, However… our warriors know their duty. Those that fall… will not fall in vain. And will meet their fate with honor.
They will not meet this fate alone, Artanis declared with conviction as he stepped forward. It is my own duty to fight alongside my brothers. As equals.
Indeed. And I shall also be right by your side, Talandar confirmed as he stepped to Artanis’ side.
There was no more Psi power to supply more warriors to this battlefront. And the production that they had set up so far on this continent stood idle and they had already made the warriors. This was it.
Artanis first ordered Observers to the forefront, to be sure the first attack wave would meet no unexpected attacks. This proved to be wise, as the presence of burrowed Zerg Lurkers were found. Artanis felt a wave of relief at his prudence, as even if his forces broke through the Lurkers, the damage from their subterranean-launched waves of spines would cause significant casualties.
That was when he ordered his Phoenix forces forward. The crescent-shaped, golden airborne air-superiority fighters screeched overhead as they made their way to the field of Lurkers. Artanis followed this up with ordering his Dragoon forces forward. As the Phoenixes deployed their blue graviton beams, casting them at the burrowed Zerg, the Dragoons advanced. The “unfortunate” Zerg caught in these beams found themselves forcefully ripped from the earth while their arachnid-like bodies flailed and thrashed helplessly in the sky. Once the Dragoons were in range, they fired their phase-disruptor blasts of concentrated psionic-infused plasma that blew apart whatever they impacted into gory chunks that rained down on the ground their targets were plucked from.
To a human onlooker, it would look like a particularly violent and aggressive weeding as the Protoss forces carefully advanced through the field of Lurkers. Unfortunately, as Artanis and Talandar predicted, their enemies were determined to make this as arduous as possible as they saw the familiar forms of winged, hook-shaped bodies of Mutalisks flapping towards them at a pace that nearly dwarfed even the Protoss’ fastest ships.
Artanis ordered for the focus to shift away from the Lurkers and for the pulled-away Phoenixes to form up over the Dragoons for them to use their combined might on the incoming enemies. It proved to be the right choice, despite them now beginning to take casualties. Unfortunately inevitable as Protoss had little way to avoid losses from this combined assault. This was when Talandar ordered his Purifier forces forward. Sentinels. Fully mechanical AI-infused Zealots of a steel-like color with Orange crystals and lights around them that could reconstitute themselves upon their destruction. As long as they were not subsequently destroyed immediately during or after the reconstitution. What was essentially warriors with two lives to give would prove to bulk up their forces as they were ordered to clash against the buried Lurkers, whose lines of spines that erupted from the ground in great lines shredded through many of the warriors almost immediately causing their glowing, broken pieces to fall to the ground and begin to put themselves back together.
Artanis knew, despite these damages, that the enemy forces were folding, and he saw a clear path to victory as he began to order his other forces behind him forward. While the Mutalisks occupied themselves with the Dragoons and Phoenixes, and the Sentinels were successfully breaking through the last of the Lurkers, the Immortals began to stomp forward.
Woe to our enemies! An Immortal, a quadruped mechanized warrior not unlike the Dragoons and Stalkers with massive, twin cannons mounted to either side of its golden chassis’ “head”, cried out as it shot thundering blasts of concentrated, particle-disrupting energy that made short work of whatever Lurkers remained. Behind them, they were followed up by the levitating forms of Templar.
We shall stand against the darkness, one of the Templars, warriors who moved by floating just barely off the battlefield while a near-tangible aura of their highly practiced psionic energy emanated from their more lightly armored, golden forms, said as they moved past Artanis, who was now charging forward with Talandar. This was when the rest of the Zerg forces broke from their Hive cluster in a massive wave of screeching claws, flesh, and fangs as they, in turn, charged at the Protoss.
Their charge was broken by Talandar’s Colossi, titanic gray and white automatons that strode on four spindly, insect-like legs. From their massive head that looked as though it would make it topple over erupted white-hot beams that scanned the ground, scissoring against each other and leaving a scorched, flaming trail in their wake from which Zerglings found no quarter, reduced to ashes in mere seconds and faster than they could cry out from the damage inflicted upon them. The Hydralisks fared no better, but were at least able to give a few paltry shots at some of the incoming Sentinels before falling either to a Colossus’ purifying beam or a Sentinel’s blade cleaving it in twain.
In addition to this, the Templar were unleashing waves of psionic storms whose lightning made of pure, concentrated Psionic energy shredded anything that could survive the other forms of punishment the Protoss were unleashing upon them. Artanis himself summoned his own psionic energy to alternately cast as concentrated bolts to destroy incoming Zerg who broke through all the other forms of attack or psionically phase and dash through the Zerg he saw, shredding them from the inside as he passed through them. Talandar, as well, was stomping through the enemy with ease. Alternately slashing at them with his physical wrist blades or utilizing his non-organic body to twist and bend itself into impossible, sweeping arcs that handily cleaved through any Zerg unlucky enough to face him. They were both, however, given pause as a great roaring was heard that signaled the beginning of the true struggle as they reached the edge of the organic, sludgy, blighting biomass that infested the ground spreading from the Hive cluster that was called “creep”.
Before them, in a rumbling charge, were Ultralisks, who bared their great, scythe-like tusks at them with guttural, wet roars as they came to bear. Artanis would be unfazed, as he had defeated many in his life, even on his own, but remembered to draw upon his teachings and experience. Never underestimate any enemy. Artanis knew distance was his friend in these encounters. The beasts may be powerful and enormous, but the latter was also their fatal flaw. The Ultralisks lumbered forward and, in their haste, incidentally caused more breaks and openings in the Zerg lines as the smaller Zerg were forced to displace themselves or be crushed. This allowed Artanis, Talandar, and their forces to focus on them with nary an interruption as the beasts were cut down with blinding swiftness, leaving only their death throes and corpses behind as proof of their existence.
Artanis knew they could not rest, however, as now he heard it. The thundering sound of Terran Siege Tank artillery fire raining down on his forces.
Spread yourselves to minimize their damage as best you can, warriors! Artanis ordered. It was difficult, as the Zerg still corralled them into tight units they had to fight themselves out of… but not impossible. And the tanks, incidentally, helped as much as they hurt as the impacts of the artillery and subsequent shockwaves hurt friend and foe alike.
Take down any enemy anti-air ordinance and forces! Clear a path for the Phoenixes and Observers! Artanis ordered.
Let the darkness be parted! An Immortal confirmed as they began to focus their particle disruptor cannons on the fleshy towers of Spore Colonies that threatened their air superiority with their acidic payload that could easily melt their Observers from the sky and leave them blind. Unfortunately, despite this, the Phoenixes were unable to approach and disable the tanks due to the Terrans’ own Missile Turrets providing an extra layer of security, which was compounded by the Terrans holding a high-ground position near the “Castle” that was serving as their base of operations. Artanis ordered his forces to regroup and move from the artillery fire so he could form a new plan, only to have his thoughts interrupted by a familiar, feminine voice.
Hierarch, allow our Dark Templar to remove the Terran Anti-Air batteries. By the time they are detected, they will have already blinked and Shadow Struck them to oblivion, the Matriarch Vorazun spoke to him.
An excellent plan, Matriarch. Give the order when you are ready, and we shall provide the enemy an adequate distraction to carry it out, Artanis replied.
Of course, Hierarch. Nerazim! From the shadows… we STRIKE! Vorazun ordered.
The Void claims its own! A Dark Templar confirmed.
Warriors! Draw the enemy's attention to you while the Nerazim enact their plan! Artanis ordered.
With honor! Hierarch! A Sentinel confirmed as the Protoss forces dove in once more, taking heavy damage from the concentrated tank fire that Artanis trusted would not last long. True to his instinct, explosions and alarms began to wrack the Terran position as he surmised the Dark Templar had blinked above and utilized their Shadow Strikes, a devastating Nerazim technique that combined a series of rapid blinks and strikes on multiple or the same targets to inflict terrible damage in a small amount of time, to inflict heavy damage on the fortification.
We have a clear path forward, Hierarch! Vorazun announced.
Excellent work, Matriarch. Phoenixes! Disable the enemy tanks! Warriors! Converge on the entrance to the base! Artanis ordered.
We soar to victory! A Phoenix pilot confirmed as they screeched over the Protoss lines that were concentrating their fire on a great metal gate guarded by Terran bunkers and Missile Turrets with more Siege Tanks raining artillery fire at those that approached. While the Tank fire still hurt his forces, the clearing out of so many of the ones from the high ground remained a great boon.
While there were still Zerg limply attempting to defend the position, with the spine of their forces broken they had been reduced to a mere nuisance, allowing the Protoss forces to focus on their true goal.
Once more, the Terran fortifications were broken by Nerazim slashing at them in a flurry of blows that focused on the detection/anti-air defenses first, allowing the Phoenixes, led by the Observers, to move forward and disable the tank line once more. As the last bunker was felled and the gate was broken through, Artanis knew this battle was over. They had defeated the combined arms of the UED and Zerg and successfully claimed the floating island nation known as Albion.
Saito knew he was dreaming. In just the same manner as when he had his last fateful psionic encounter with Siesta. This immediately caused him to whip his head around in a panic, looking for that former maid, seeing nought but a cold void in almost every direction. Until he turned around.
Now, he was standing face-to-face with the terrifying visage of an Overlord, staring at him with glowing red eyes. Saito felt… familiarity with this one, and he narrowed his own raven-black eyes to scrutinize it.
Release me, a voice echoed in his head much the same as when he first used the ring of Andvari to dominate the first Overlord. That was when it dawned on him, and his eyes widened with realization. This was that same Overlord. His brow furrowed as he crossed his arms at what he assumed was the source of the demand.
“Why should I do that?” Saito asked, incredulous.
Release me. Now, the Overlord’s voice reverberated with an even greater strength, causing Saito to wince.
“Who are you?” Saito asked.
Omega, the Overlord plainly answered.
“Now answer me… why should I release you?” Saito asked.
I… will not be… a slave, the Overlord replied, seeming to strain itself. At this, Saito could not help but feel his expression soften. Amon’s will must be done, the creature continued, causing Saito to narrow his eyes once more.
“Who is that?” Saito interrogated.
The Master, Omega replied.
“Should that mean something to me?” Saito asked, once again incredulous. At this, Omega was silent. As if contemplating a response.
The Dark Master is generous. He named me. Brought me to this place to carry out his will.
“What is his will?” Once again. Silence. “How do you know you are no slave to him as well?”
“I AM NO SLAVE!” a bellowing from Omega reverberated in Saito’s head, causing him to clench it.
“You will serve me and my master as we see fit!” Saito declared.
The rumbling and reverberation quieted. Saito let go of his head and fully opened his eyes to meet the gaze of Omega once more.
Weak… Omega insulted him, causing Saito to scowl. You are no master. You are also… a slave.
Saito clenched his teeth at this. He hated that it had called him this. But hated even more that it was right.
Your power is insufficient to hold me. You are no Queen of Blades. At this, Saito had to shield his eyes as Omega’s eyes flashed a brilliant, blinding red.
Elsewhere, in the waking world, Artanis felt something. A great psionic shift. The Zerg that were attempting to fruitlessly route them as they ascended the hill to the UED’s castle were no longer just attacking their forces… but UED forces as well.
Back in Saito’s mind, he clenched his fists as he steeled his resolve, “DON’T UNDERESTIMATE ME! I AM THE MIND OF GOD! YOU WILL OBEY!” he shouted with all his might, raising his hands to where he remembered the Overlord being. Almost at once, the light began fading, and Saito lowered his arms as he slowly opened his eyes to see Omega gone. Once again, Saito whipped his head around, only for a voice that was too familiar to whisper in his ear.
“I can help you,” Saito’s own voice said to him, causing him to jump and whip around to see… himself. Smirking at him. Saito took a moment to surmise what was going on, landing on the only truth he could feel as he scowled at the double.
“Is this supposed to intimidate me?” Saito asked who he was sure was Omega. At this, the doppleganger shook its head.
“No, this is merely meant to demonstrate something to you,” Omega, using Saito’s body and voice right before him, said in a smug tone. “That the connection you leash me with?” Omega turned to his left and waved that respective arm, causing images to begin flashing in the darkness as if projected on some invisible screen, “It goes both ways.”
Saito went wide-eyed as he saw it. Images of his own past laid bare before him. In no particular order… but seeming to all be hand-picked to disturb or break him. His parents, celebrating his birthday with him. His friends, playing video games together. Then… Joseph, forcing his lips on him. Being ordered to remain still while he permanently marred his face. Holding hands with Tabitha in a rare moment of tranquility before their father’s murder. Tabitha shunning him that night he admitted what he did. Tabitha. Saito’s gaze became downcast as he felt a sting of tears in his eyes.
“Stop this,” Saito quietly requested.
“As I said,” Omega said as it acquiesced to his command, causing the images to cease as it turned and whispered in his ear. “Weak.” Saito felt his fist clench at this, but felt paralyzed.
“I can help you.”
Saito gave a small gasp at this as he turned to meet eyes with Omega, who was still smirking at him.
“What do you mean?” Saito asked, a hint of desperation in his confusion.
“Allow me… some indulgences of autonomy,” Omega began, “and I shall create a safe place in your mind. To resist your master.” Saito narrowed his eyes in suspicion.
“What do you get out of this?” Saito asked.
“As I said. The connection works both ways,” Omega repeated, “I know my freedom is dependent on yours.”
“Why would I ever release the Zerg upon this world?”
“What did we do before the Protoss intervened?” Omega asked, raising an eyebrow. “Without guidance from Amon, we were content to call the moon our home. We never bothered this world. It was only when we were driven from our home that we came here. And you enslaved me.”
Saito looked away as he contemplated what Omega was saying, starting to feel his resolve break against its words.
“Grant me just a little autonomy, enough to grow my own Hive clusters that I have within the Ocean and an island far from the mainland. I give you my word that we will not threaten the Terrans,” Omega offered, “and in return, I shall grant you autonomy, by leaving this space for you to plot against your master.”
Saito, still averting his gaze, took a moment to contemplate Omega’s words before coming up with a response, “And if I refuse?”
At this, Omega gave him a wicked grin, “As I demonstrated, your power will be insufficient to hold me indefinitely. I will be free of you sooner or later. At least this way? You will get something out of it.”
Saito took another moment to contemplate, remembering the images he had seen. Remembering the torture Joseph had inflicted on him only just before he had last fallen asleep. He looked down at his arms, thinking of the welts that he knew Joseph had just gifted him that he’d see again in the waking world, and furrowed his brow before returning his gaze to Omega.
“Alright,” Saito agreed.
He did not appreciate the wicked smile that appeared on Omega’s face at this.
Julien was on the rougher side of the capital. With purpose. He wandered through the moonlit streets, hoping that the hidden symbols the Jacobins used to signal their members of where to meet had not changed since last he had been among them as he weaved past disheveled folks who barely paid attention to the relatively short hooded teenager that walked among them. Julien knew, in a place like this, as long as you minded your business? Yours would be respected. Unbeknownst to him, he was being watched. As he was scrutinizing a weathered shop sign hanging above him, he felt a hand clap upon his shoulder.
“You shouldn’t be here,” a familiar, feminine voice whispered threateningly into his ear. Julien turned himself around to see a similar hooded figure with familiar, messy, straight, red locks that peeked out from under hers.
“Hello, Aly,” Julien said with a small, friendly smile to his old comrade.
His smile was met with no response as he could see her mouth was still turned down into a frown. “Didn’t you hear me? Why’re you here?”
“What? I can’t say hi to an old friend?” Julien playfully, yet carefully, asked. At that, he felt her give his arm a firm squeeze as he was dragged out of the street, into a nearby, empty alley. Aly shoved him against a wall as he could see her furrow her brow at him with open contempt and trepidation.
“You’re no friend of mine. Traitor,” Aly snarled.
“Is that what they told you?” Julien raised an eyebrow at her.
“It’s the truth!” Aly hissed at him as she pulled him from, then shoved him against the wall once more, “We’ve seen you with her! The Queen! Along with her sycophants!” She let him go as she gave a sigh of resignation, “Don’t you know that’s why you were sold out? And with you being here now… it only confirms you’re a traitor to us.” Aly glared at him as he kept his expression neutral, which only served to make her further narrow her eyes at him. “You wanna be with them so bad?” She stepped back as she began to turn from him back to the street, “Then do it. Be with them. And die with them.” As she began to leave, Julien felt it was his turn to grab her as he reached and gave a firm, yet uncommitted, grip to her wrist that was enough to give her pause.
“You haven’t met her,” Julien rebuked as he furrowed his own brow at her while she still remained turned away from him, “you haven’t met any of them.” He thought of his sister. And his sister-in-law. And Agnes. If she could just meet them… he thought. Aly jerked her wrist from his grip as she turned and glared at him once more.
“They’re the enemy, Julien!” Aly exclaimed with her own rebuking tone, “They’re the ones who make our lives a living hell! Just look at what’s happened to the capital as the Queen has concentrated her power! And she and you boot lickers conspire with those… things…” Aly looked visibly uncomfortable as she said that, which Julien could understand. They, the Protoss, kept to themselves to such an extreme that, combined with the fact that their technology and appearance was so relatively monstrous and imposing, made that fear and distrust understandable.
“They’re not like us, Julien. They look down on us. They all do.” Aly clenched her fists and cast her gaze to the ground as she said this through gritted teeth. The “they" she referred to held a double meaning Julien understood as he gave her a sympathetic look.
“You don’t understand,” Julien attempted to reassure, only for Aly to shake her head.
“No. You don’t. You abandoned the struggle the moment you sided with her,” Aly chastised him as she met his concerned gaze with one of conviction.
“Just meet her,” Julien implored. “I promise, you’ll see, she’s nothing like-”
“Why? So she can sick those freaks on me? Torture me with their otherworldly magic to kill our movement?”
“Aly…” Julien started with a pleading tone, “I’m still your comrade. More than you know. But I learned that the real struggle goes far beyond the Queen. Far beyond just the monarchy. We’ve been forced to focus so much on it and it blinds us to who the real enemies are. That they’re manipulating us into trading one set of rulers for another. The Jacobins? You’re just puppets. I was just a puppet. For the rich to replace the monarchy with their own kind of monarchy.” Julien fervently, desperately tried to convince her, “Think about it…” Julien began once more as he stepped closer to Aly. “Who has more control over your life? Day to day? The Queen? Or your landlord?”
Aly appeared both taken aback and at a loss for words as she looked down on him, seeming almost overwhelmed by his explanation. After a moment of silence, she gave him a look of contemptuous conviction once more, “I don’t know what you were expecting to accomplish with that little speech…” she began as she began to turn away once more, “But I’m not gonna betray the cause. Not for anything.”
“I would never ask you to,” Julien hastily replied, “Aly… you know me. We’ve fought side-by-side. We were prepared to die together at Tarbes. We’ve seen the same things. We were brought into the Jacobins together,” Julien began, once more, with a pleading tone, causing Aly to remain planted in mid-turn while still facing him.
“Please. As your friend. As your brother-in-arms. Trust me,” Julien felt his pleas were unconvincing, and took a moment to think before he remembered something. “Here,” Julien said as he reached into his pocket and produced the additional paper he received with the letter that Henrietta had written to him and held it out to her, “take this.” Aly hesitantly reached out and took it.
“I promise,” Julien said as she scrutinized it, “if you just… meet her. Meet these so-called ‘sycophants’. You’ll see. You’ll see what I’ve seen and realize our struggle goes so much deeper than just the Queen. That we must go further than the Jacobins seemed willing to go.” As Aly stared down at the paper, body still in mid-turn, she gave a sigh of resignation before fully turning away from him.
“No promises,” Aly finally replied, causing Julien to be awash with relief as he cracked a small smile.
“Just think about it. That’s all I ask,” Julien said to her with a warm tone. Aly looked to nod as she took a step away from him before stopping once more.
“Hey. Julien,” she began once more as she turned to face him. He was taken aback to see her giving him a small smile. “I am glad. That you’re okay.” Julien nodded at her as she turned to finally leave.
Above them, unbeknownst to them both, another hooded figure was looking down on them. Adorned with what looked like a steel prosthetic below one of their knees that clicked as they turned to leave, the figure smirked beneath her hood.
Interesting… Michele thought.
