Writing, queers, and social rights

|| Neppy! || Lvl 25 || She/Her || || Writer, Photographer, Dungeon Master, Hugger || || Sapphic, Poly, Queer || || DC, ZZZ, original writing & more fandoms! ||

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-----------------------Neppy's Hub-------------------------

Main Blog. Mostly writing, art reblogging, and fandom~

I'm Neppy, I'm 25, queer (she/they), and a huge geek. I'm also super extroverted and don't bite, so interact with me

Scroll down for sideblogs (RP), tags, and general info.

--------------------------Writing----------------------------

Writing includes original work AND fan content but you won't find any roleplay on this blog, that's for my sideblogs.

I post here and on my A03: Here.

Original Work:

The World of Oriel is my current project (Wiki coming soon!). It often ties into modern D&D content because I use it for homebrew campaigns and D&D fics!

Frankly, more coming. This blog is to help me start posting and organizing all the ideas.

Fandoms:

You can find a bunch of fanfics on my AO3! Fandoms include:

Overwatch

DC Universe

Baldur's Gate 3

Dungeons and Dragons

Zenless Zone Zero

Fandoms I like but am not actively writing for include the gaming, book, and anime worlds! I mean, RWBY, Halo, HDG, Attack on Titan, Titanfall, Elden Ring, Cyberpunk 2077, and so on.

---------------------------Tags------------------------------

Coming soon! Including Sideblogs, writing, and more.

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Rifts of the World (Epilogue)

A Zenless Zone Zero original story!

To start from the beginning click here.

Chapter 6: Epilogue.

Main Characters: Lucila (OC) Supporting Cast: Zhu Yuan, Qingyi Thanks for reading!

The aftermath, in many ways, was messier than the actual mission.

Well, I wasn’t there for most of the actual mission. Soldier 11 found me on her own and then we simply survived. She had promised rescue, back in the rifts, from a group of soldiers. Had told me of a grand city where humanity, and others, thrived.

Honestly, I thought she was crazy. Not that other people existing was so weird but cities of tens of thousands? Ether generators? Cars and guns, music and parties, restaurants with spicy noodles and arcades?

That was from another world.

Then she saved us, the girl with fox ears, and I woke up in a hospital.

Well, it’s been four months since then. I’ll record the story someday, I’m sure, but after all this time with Obol Squad things were just getting more and more insane. That’s when Trigger, reluctantly, suggested going to someone else for protection. For safety.

Plus, it’s about time you saw what a normal life looked like. Unfortunately, those words had convinced the rest of the squad. Everyone but me. There was no time for a normal life. Each day was a day wasted. A day I could be working on getting back.

But not today. Today I was crawling through the air ducts of the police headquarters, freezing at the slightest creak in the metal, praying no one would hear me. It was late in the night and, besides two officers leaving, no one had passed by that I could tell. I’d be fine. It was fine. Breaking into this place was all part of the plan. No worries at all.

“I’m serious, Zhu Yuan,” a voice said directly below me. It sounded young, really young, like a girl, but her tone was serious like an adult. Then another voice, deeper and serious, but skeptical, replied.

“Well, if that’s the case, why would you be so obvious?”

“Because they are.”

Wait.

They?

Something hits the bottom of the air duct once, testily, and my eyes widen in horror. I bite my lip to muffle another yelp, only for whoever was down there to hit harder, right through the metal connecting two sections.

I can’t help but yell as the duct falls to the ground, spitting me out onto the floor and sliding a few feet. I can hear a gun being drawn, recognize the click of a round going in the chamber, and my training kicks in. I swiftly spin, pushing myself to my feet and raising my hands high.

“I’m a member of Obsidian Division and looking for help!” I yell, eyes closed, heart racing as I wait for a gunshot to tear through me.

It never comes.

Slowly, I take a peek, seeing two people before me. One is a girl, just as I heard, short and skinny, with long green pigtails, and glowing eyes. Small lines crisso cross her bare arms and legs, even her face, and she holds a staff that’s glittering with electricity. In any other situation I’d be confused but her expression was dead serious. Beside her was someone I could imagine as an officer: A tall woman with her dark hair tied back and an orange streak, wearing a blue officer’s jacket and black leggings, and aiming a pistol at me.

The small one frowns, stepping forward and poking me with the (non-electrical) side of the her staff. “I don’t know, Zhu Yuan, it’s pretty suspicious. If you’re a soldier then why are you breaking in?”

“As it stands we’ll have to arrest you for trespassing, breaking and entering a government building, and impersonating government agents,” Zhu Yuan warns, clearly as a prompt for me to speak.

“It’s long story,” I admit, swallowing hard. “But there’s a badge from the squad in my back pocket. Only squad members have it. And, um, Lady Miyabi knows me. She’s saved my life before.”

The younger one walks behind me, ruffling through the several pockets of my cargo pants before yanking the badge out. “The badge is here, Zhu Yuan. No other finger prints on it. Seems real.”

“She could have stolen it, Qingyi,” she warned. “And she broke into here. We have no reason to believe this.”

Quingyi pouts, almost annoyed, and sighs. She puts a hand on her hip, glaring at her partner. “Zhu Yuan, my systems don’t detect any lies. Actually, she seems pretty terrified.”

“I’m aiming a weapon at her, of course she’s-”

“People are after me,” I blurt out, closing my eyes and making up my mind. I’d tell them everything. It was my only way to safety, after all, and Obol Squad had good information that this one could be trusted. That she was a connection to Lady Miyabi. “The military found me out in the Hollows, almost dead, alright? Miyabi saved me and Obol Squad. They think I’ll be safer with her but...but I can’t just go to her. They’ll know.”

“Who’s they?” Zhu Yuan asked suspiciously, as Qingyi’s stepped closer, her annoyance turning into a curious frown. She poked my shoulder as her superior continued. “Can you prove anything you’re saying?”

“I can answer any of your questions,” I plead, choking on my words. “I can tell you every story. Take any- any lie detector test. Anything you want. Okay, I’m out of options?”

“Zhu Yuan…” Qingyi murmured, poking my tricep this time.

The officer was having none of it. “Lady Miyabi is my friend. She’s already been hurt. She carries the world on her shoulders. I wouldn’t risk her safety for some stories.”

“I need help!” I growl back, gritting my teeth. “Isn’t your job to protect and serve?”

“Yes, the citizens! I don’t even know who you are. Where are you from?”

“Zhu yuan,” Qingyi says again, more insistent, standing uncomfortably close, her eyes clicking as she stares at my arm.

But the question is what sticks with me: Where are you from?

I could lie. Who would believe me, anyways? That I’m from another continent? But if I did...I could lose the help I need.

“I’m not from New Eridu,” I admit reluctantly, glancing away. “Your language isn’t my first tongue either. I came from very, very far away.”

“What do you mean? Waifei Peninsula? The Outer Ring? Some nomadic tribe living throughout the Hollows?” Zhu Yuan demands, stepping closer. One hand reaches back, grabbing her handcuffs.

Qingyi raises her voice, annoyed. “Zhu Yuan!”\

“No!” I interrupt, the growl returning, deep in my chest. I can see the officer tense at the noise, brow scrunching in confusion or worry, and realize she’s gotten close enough I could grab the gun. It’d take one step. One second.

“Don’t even think about it,” Zhu Yuan warned lowly, freezing.

“Take that thing out of my face,” I hiss.

“Zhu Yuan, look!” Qingyi finally yells, yanking my arm down and pulling my sleeve back as far as she could. The room went silent for a good minute. Zhu Yuan was stunned, her eyes wide with either confusion or horror, while Qingyi just seemed to pity me. My face burned with shame.

She finally lowered her weapon. For the first time, her voice was soft. Concerned. “What happened?”

“...I said Miyabi saved me,” I repeated quietly, slowly dropping my hands. I couldn’t bring myself to look them in the eyes. “Never said she was fast enough to save all of me.”

“But that...that’s…”

“The best the military could do,” Quingyi finished, giving her superior a firm nod. “This has to be military, Zhu Yuan. The technology. The design. Besides, anyone else would have tried to amputate. Or considered her too corrupted to be saved.”

The arm was a mix of sleek, white metal, with openings where ether crystals were growing in, and the flesh beneath could barely be seen. Cabling ran along the prosthetic with etheric energy traveling back and forth through it.

It was horrifying and I knew it.

“...what’s your name?” Zhu Yuan asked, holstering her gun and reaching out. “Who are you, really?”

Who am I? The question felt impossible today, less than a half a year since the Hollow destroyed my home. What could I tell her?

“My name’s Lucila,” I answered with a sigh. Finally, our eyes meet, and Zhu Yuan hesitates, surely seeing the anger behind my green irises. “I’m a survivor from far, far away, and all I want is to find my way back and save my people.”

“That’s it.”

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Rifts of the World (Chapter 5)

A Zenless Zone Zero Original story!

To start from the beginning click here.

Chapter 5: The Last One...Right?

Main Characters: Hoshimi Miyabi, Trigger Supporting Cast: Soldier 11, Original Character

Thanks for reading!

“She’s waking up,” Trigger said, her voice filled with concern. Someone near her replied, but the void hunter couldn’t make it out. With a groan, she forced her eyes open, taking in the scene above her.

Seed and Trigger were staring down at her, extremely close, with the sniper’s hands nearly strangling her palm. The mech pilot smiled with immediate reassurance, but Trigger did not seem happy.

“What happened?” Miyabi asked calmly, staying still and taking stock. She felt a light pain on her side, throbbing insistently, and lightheaded. With a grunt, she began to push herself up, and both soldiers immediately took her arms.

Seed spoke first, giving Trigger an oddly serious stare. “You were hurt protecting the Captain and Orpheus. It wasn’t serious, and Captain Magus cauterized the wound.”

“But,” Trigger added immediately, one hand holding Miyabi’s arm and the other sliding around her shoulders. “We have no way to see any internal injuries, and you took the brunt of the blow. We should send you out with Orphie for medical attention.”

“No.” There was no argument to be had. The thiren’s refusal was absolute. For once, she looked intentionally threatening, her brow scrunching as she stared at the sniper. “There is still a member of your squad out there. Alone. The mission isn’t finished.”

“We can handle it,” Trigger insisted, even as she leaned back in surprise. “You’ve done so much for us. I don’t want you to get worse.”

“I disagree,” she replied calmly, nodding at Seed and standing up. She swayed just one step before recovering, which only made Trigger bite her lip and clench her jaw.

“Lady Miyabi, with all due respect-”

“Leave her.”

The command was sharp. Reluctantly, Trigger sealed her lips, straightening her back and eyeing the ground. Seed Senior’s massive form approached, holding an unconscious Orpheus in its arms. Captain Magus remained protectively curled around the woman’s body, as if she alone could protect her host, but her eyes betrayed a stern calculation. A leader who’d gone through all the scenarios.

“Lady Miyabi, thank you for rescuing the members of my squad,” Magus said slowly, nodding their robotic head. She sighed deeply, metal jaw clicking, and the length of her body sleek, shuddered. “I must ask you to continue. I need to get Orpheus out of here. I can’t leave my squad alone.”

“Magus, she’s injured, we can’t-”

“You’re going to join her, Trigger,” Magus interrupted, glowing eyes narrowing at the interruption. “Keep her safe as you always do. Both of you find and retrieve Soldier 11. Don’t try to get information. Do not take on any large threats. Get her and come back. Seed will escort Orpheus and me back to base.”

Miyabi looked down, rubbing her side for a moment, considering the captain’s words. She could hear the anger simmering underneath, the shame at having to leave them behind. To go heal while someone else took on the mission. It was a feeling she understood all too well.

“I promised to help,” Miyabi said slowly, softly. “If it were my team, I would hate to leave. I understand, Captain.” She gripped her sword hilt, giving Magus a small nod. “I will finish the mission.”

“...then there’s no time to waste,” Trigger sighed, the two little lights on her visor glowing red, showing her frustration. “Seed should get you out of here, Captain. We’ll follow shortly.”

The three soldiers shared a mutual look of concern. Seed walked around, the mech allowing her in, before its eyes glowed and it stood straighter. Magus looked down at Orpheus, exhaling deeply, and then back at Trigger.

“Don’t worry, Captain. I’ll make sure we all come back,” she whispered, nodding. Magus straightened out, uncurling slightly from their host, and after a few seconds clicked their jaw.

“You'd better, soldier. I’ll be waiting.”

Miyabi’s short time with Seed, Captain Magus, and Orpheus came to an end. They watched as the mech flew off, carrying half of Obol Squad, before turning to look back out to the Hollow. Only now did the thiren notice the telltale signs of battle. Trigger had been here alone. By the look of things, she’d held the line against several enemies. Another look at her companion showed a bandage over her shoulder, scuffing on her rifle, and her ponytail was disheveled.

“Your bangboo will guide us to the right Rift,” Trigger said quietly, giving Agent Gulliver a pat on the head. “I’ll go in with you this time. We’ll fight our way in. We’ll fight our way out. Alright?”

“Very well,” Miyabi agreed, giving Agent Gulliver the go-ahead. And just like that, they were off once again.

The trio walked calmly through the Hollow, the streets of Paris, a city not seen at all during the time of Eridu. The cobblestone streets of this section, combined with the tall stone buildings and narrow roads, would have felt cozy if the two agents weren’t so focused on being ambushed. They walked past signs in a language Miyabi couldn’t understand, but the imagery was enough. Coffee shops, bakeries, and stores. Bookshops and homes. Her head followed to a small bike as they walked past it and further down the street, imagining this city full of children and life. An entire civilization wiped out.

An entire world.

“It’s a lot to take in,” Trigger spoke, as if reading her thoughts. The lights on her visor had turned a soft blue. “We have records of the Old World. We know the Hollows ended life as people knew it. But it’s so normal for us. I don’t think anyone really understands what this planet lost. How many people it lost.”

“I don’t even understand the language,” the thiren answered, eyes returning to the street. “And this is one place. One city. I wonder how many ways people spoke.”

“How many different histories they had,” Trigger added, nodding.

Miyabi’s fox ears twitched. “How many cities existed?”

“And the food. It must have been something else.”

It wasn’t much in the way of rest, but the conversation, the walk, was nice. Even in the Hollow, in this moment, the melancholy was joined by peace and remembrance. An understanding that both women knew few would ever achieve. They shared a smile together.

Then Agent Gulliver turned a corner, and they saw it: The dark, twisting portal hanging a foot in the air, sucking the light out of the space immediately around it. The center had a jagged tear into reality that seemed blacker than darkness. Each physical instinct screamed to turn away.

“Soldier 11 is in there,” Trigger said, checking her magazine once again. A nervous habit, Miyabi realized, before every fight.

“Let’s rescue her,” the void hunter said reassuringly. Then, without any more hesitation, she walked forward and stepped through the rift.

Thankfully, there was no insane weather or sudden drop. She stepped off one road and onto another. Cobblestone turned to cracked asphalt. The chilled but comfortable air of Paris turned colder and much drier. When she looked up, the moon was shining down on them from a clear sky. More stars than she had ever seen in her life sparkled around it. A galaxy stretched out before her, mesmerizing.

“Oh wow,” Trigger whispered, appearing a moment later. She immediately did a slow spin, rifle butt propped against her shoulder, finger trigger itching. “This place is...old.”

“Do you know it?” “Miyabi asked, her voice still awestruck, eyes glued to the sky.

“No, not at all.”

“Egypt,” Miyabi murmured, eyes falling back down to take in the space before her. She pointed ahead, far down the road, where three pyramids in the distance stood illuminated by the silver glow. “Before we came to rescue you, Commander Roland gave us a summary of the world. World Wonders, monuments, things that Eridu still has information on.”

“Egypt,” Trigger repeated slowly, walking ahead of Miyabi and looking to the left. “Is that a giant...cat statue?”

“The Sphinx,” Miyabi supplied, nodding slowly. “The information from the Old World puts it at more than four thousand years old. Now, it’s older.”

That gave the two of them renewed pause. Something that old was unfathomable. It was hard to even see New Eridu surviving a century, let alone a thousand years. In that moment, the sound of an explosion stirred them back to reality.

“That was Soldier 11,” Trigger snapped, sprinting forward. “I recognize the sound of her sword!”

There was no more time for world-shattering thoughts and realizations. Miyabi ran after the sniper, further up the road, until their comrade came into view. Oddly enough, she was walking. No invisibility, no giant explosions or lasers, just the young soldier with white hair. Her uniform, black pants, an orange top, and a heavy wrap-around skirt that cinched at her sternum and fell to her hips, carrying now-empty pouches of gear or ammunition, was shredded and torn at several places. Her orange visor was cracked on the left eye, her sword was heated red from fire in one hand, and in the other, she held a person.

This new person was about Soldier 11’s height. She wore black boots, green cargo pants, and a black tank top that hung loosely on her clearly starving body. Her skin lacked color, and her hair was brown, frizzy, and matted with dirt and gunk. She fell to her knees, crying out in pain, and now Miyabi could see the crystals growing along her arm.

“Trigger!” Soldier 11 yelled, struggling to drag the other one along. “Behind us!”

The soldier dropped to one knee and lifted the rifle, her visor lights turning red. Miyabi didn’t even see the threat before three shots popped off, pinging off something hard. Soldier 11 grunted as one even ricocheted near her. Miyabi ran ahead, her hands taking the stranger’s arm and back.

“Who is this?” She asked, slinging the other arm over her shoulder, helping Soldier 11 carry them further down the road.

“We need to go!” She yelled, ignoring the question. With a tired groan, she fixes the girl's position on her arm, desperately walking forward. “We cannot kill the enemy behind us. Not like this. She needs to get out of here immediately!”

Before she could ask, once again, who this person was, or what the danger was, the ground began to shake. Not slowly either. No, something large was running towards them, releasing a blood-curdling screech that made the fur on her ears stand up straight.

“Hit the deck!” Trigger yelled.

Soldier 11 didn’t hesitate, dropping her sword and grabbing the girl with both hands, shoving them both down and placing her body protectively over the other. Miyabi followed a second later, arms covering her head.

Trigger’s rifle whined with highly focused electricity. Her visor lights glowed brightly, two little pinpricks of dangerous blue that seemed to spark. The barrel of the gun turned red, then the tip sparked blue, and the color dipped into the unmistakable hues of etheric energy. Her voice was almost in a trance as she spoke.

“This bullet will hit its mark,” she said, like a prayer, before her finger pulled the trigger. A sizzling blast of energy, Miyabi couldn’t even tell if there was a bullet there, left the gun, and seared through the air. She felt a quarter second of heat and danger before hearing an explosion behind her, and then the loud crash and shaking of something falling.

“Shit!” Trigger cried out immediately. Soldier 11’s head shot up, eyes wide, as if she had never heard her friend curse before.

“That can’t be good,” she said to herself, gritting her teeth as she lifted the girl up.

This time, Miyabi did not join her. She turned around, her thumb pushing her sword out of its sheath just an inch, prepared to face whatever it was that had been chasing Trigger’s squad mate.

Her eyes widened at the alien creature. It was an Ethereal, to be sure, with a core glowing behind armored skin, the classic greenish-purple hue of ether, and the angry roar. But it was huge: Two lanky legs with clawed feet held up a muscular body, connected to equally lanky arms, clawed hands, and a disturbingly corrupt image of a goat's head. The head had two beady eyes that seemed to focus right on the void hunter, growing darker as two massive bat wings spread from its back.

It’s not that she hadn’t faced large Ethereals before. After all, she’d fought Nineveh. She’d even fought smart Ethereals, if one counted her duel against Bringer, but this particular monster radiated more than intimidation of intelligence. It was hatred, pure and simple, that seemed to rot the ground around it and make one want to crawl into their own chest and never come back out.

And she was all that stood between it, the soldiers, and the civilians.

The beast didn’t bother to fly. It charged forward, claws digging into the ground and extending forward to cut the thiren to ribbons. She unsheathed her sword, jumping backwards to avoid the attack, using her blade to deflect the claws swiping at her, and retreating as slowly as she could. The beast was furious, coming at her with everything it had, and it was all she could do to just slow it down. If she made the slightest mistake, the smallest misstep, it would kill her. She needed to change the momentum, to find an opening-

“Incoming!” Soldier 11 yelled.

Miyabi risked a look. More Ethereals, two dozen at least, had ambushed the two soldiers. These seemed to mimic the beast she was fighting: Some flew with wings, others wielded claws, and a few even had horns. She watched Soldier 11 shove her rescue off to the side, against a small stone wall that lined the edge of the street, and cut one down with a fiery slash. Trigger flipped backwards with incredible grace, shooting three times from the air, and landing on her feet as three heads were pierced.

Too late, she realized her mistake. The two of them could handle those ethereals; it was she who was in trouble. In those three seconds of distraction, a tail that she hadn’t seen slammed into her, sending her flying backward. Someone yelled her name, probably Trigger, as she twisted mid-air and landed on her feet, heels marring the ground as she slid backwards. The wound in her side that Magus had cauterized throbbed with renewed pain.

“Let me handle the big one,” Soldier 11 barked, cutting down another foot soldier. “It’s chased us through three rifts. I’ve seen what it can do.”

“You’re injured!” Trigger hissed, spinning behind her friend and firing two rounds, each bullet protecting the unconscious civilian. “No!”

“I can handle it,” Miyabi cut in, her voice returning to that emotionless cold, eyes narrowing in focus. She barely breathed as she cut through four smaller ethereals, opening the path to the big one. It wasn’t charging, she noticed; it was waiting. Allowing the group to be worn down.

She had to face it. To kill it before she was overwhelmed.

“Miyabi, wait-”

She sprang forward, letting her thoughts and mind take a backseat to the bloodlust within her blade. Together they struck, the thin blade drawing across the surface of the beast as they danced. It screeched and turned, swinging its tail, slashing its claws, and even having the weaker ones come help it. But Miyabi was never in one place for more than a moment. Wherever the earth cracked or the claw sliced, all that remained was air. She cut across its chest, landing beside it, and leaned back to avoid a swipe. With an upward slash, she cut three of the digits off, flipping backwards in one smooth movement, and then jumping off the ground right before it could smash her to bits. She landed on the monster’s forearm, yelling as she ran up the massive limb, dragging the tip of her blade across its flesh.

All the while, her companions helped. Bullet after bullet left Trigger’s rifle, slamming into the big one’s reinforcements before they could become a problem. Her own attackers surged forth, only for Soldier 11 to stand between them, blade almost melting from overuse. She let out a battle cry, panting heavily as she brought it down on one after another, expertly parrying attacks, and tearing them apart with a fury few had seen.

Miyabi reached its shoulder. Blue fire burned across the monster’s flesh, from wrist to shoulder, where the blade had cut. It jumped off the ground, wings beating powerfully. Once, twice, but the void hunter vaulted off its shoulder, high above, and fell down in a deadly arc.

It roared in pain as one wing was sliced clean off. Miyabi landed deftly, knees bending and one hand hovering an inch off the ground, prepared to catch herself. A second later, the beast crashed behind her, throwing a plume of rock and dust behind it.

“That isn’t going to be enough!” Soldier 11 yelled, pulling her sword out of a body and sprinting forward. Miyabi gasped as she was pushed to the side, twisting to see what had happened.

Soldier 11 had saved her life. Where she had been standing a moment before was a clawed hand, opened as if to grab and squeeze her to death. Instead, she swung upwards in a deadly arc, leaping over the hand as she did, spinning one, two, three times in a vortex of flame. The beasts took one step back, hissing.

“Prepare...to bur-”

Her sword snapped before she finished the sentence. Overused from hours and hours of battle, the metal was soft and melting from the excess heat, and perhaps Soldier 11’s own fatigue and miscalculation. As she began to come down in one final downwards spiral, the sword slammed into its palm and snapped clean off. She landed, eyes wide with shock, and then the ethereal spun and slammed its tail into her.

“No!” Trigger screamed as her friend went flying off the side of the road, right over the short stone wall, and over the edge. Without hesitation, she dashed over, jumping right over the edge with her.

It was all falling apart. The ethereals all around them, of which very few were left, began to shimmer like the one’s back in Paris, and the thiren’s heart dropped. She gasped as they melted, etheric blobs racing past her feet, up the body of the monster. It glowed and shuddered in relief as the material climbed up to its wing, repairing it.

Defeat was never an option. Miyabi’s eyes widened, not with fear, but tension as she allowed Tailless to surge through her again. She could feel the delicious pull of her fox fire, waiting to come out in full fury once again, and the edges of her vision were already flickering blue. She wouldn’t give up. And neither, it seemed, would her partners.

A grapple hook latched around the stone wall, smoking against the rock as it seemed to winch inwards. Trigger and Soldier 11 were launched back upwards to safety. Mid-air, Trigger twisted and threw Soldier 11 forward.

The soldier grit her teeth, the one eye visible behind the broken lenses glowing brightly with fire, her throat raspy as she screamed out a battle cry and plunged her shattered blade into the monster’s leg. Despite being broken and melted by heat, it seemed to sear right into the crystallized flesh of the ethereal. She grit her teeth, using both hands to pull it forward, tearing through a chunk of its leg and making it sway.

She dove out of the way as it swiped at her, clearly injured, and rolled painfully a few feet away. In that moment, Trigger landed right on the edge of the road, her rifle charging up again. Her visor was glowing red, and her jaw was tightened in anger.

“Sniper’s creed: One shot, one kill,” she said, only loud enough for herself and Miyabi. The gun charged up again, glowing blue and then with ether, but this time it sparkled and sizzled louder. Trigger grit her teeth in pain as it charged three seconds longer. Right before the ethereal could smash her, the rifle fired a supercharged version of her last shot.

Her aim was perfect. The bullet fired right into the gap Soldier 11 had melted into its leg, and this attack tore right through the limb. With a roar of pain, the monster collapsed, making the ground shake again.

That was Miyabi’s chance. The ethereal propped itself on one hand, wings batting once more in an attempt to elevate. The fox fire burned brighter, no longer just within her, but licking her skin, giving her a demonic appearance. She lifted her sheath, beginning to pull her sword out.

“I swear on my blade,” she hissed, closing her eyes. Five seconds was all it took.

Each second, she cut cleanly through a limb. She shot forward, leaping over it and behind, slicing off one wing and then the other. Then she sidestepped its claws, tearing through the remaining leg, before flipping onto its chest and bringing the blade down onto its left arm, and then finally leaping away towards her comrades, sliding on her heels as she’d done so many times before. Trigger and Soldier 11 were right behind her, the latter helping the former up, and the three watched as blue energy flashed through the air where her blade had been, tearing through its body and rendering it immobile. Helpless.

But not dead.

The three could only watch in horror as its missing limbs melted back into the ground, etheric goop sliding and slithering up its torso, its body, preparing to heal it yet again. Even Miyabi felt the horror, enough to snap her out of Tailless’s bloodlust and the cold focus of battle.

“I can’t kill it,” she murmured, eyes wide.

“My rifle is gone,” Trigger said, her voice ragged. “Melted. We need to go if we’re gonna live. Rendezvous with the rest of Section 6.”

“Miss, grab the civilian,” Soldier 11 pleaded, barely able to keep her head up. “Wait, where- where is she?”

All three of them snapped their heads to the small section of wall they’d left the woman on, supposedly unconscious. Three pairs of wide eyes stared at Agent Gulliver, confused, looked behind itself and then back at the women. The bangboo shrugged anxiously.

The beast roared again. All three of them spun around, expecting an attack, or to see it looming over them, maybe even a new army of fully regenerated ethereals. Instead, they saw the half-dead civilian clambering over its torso, chest rising and falling with quick, heavy breaths, and eyes full of determination and fury.

“No more!” She yelled desperately as the weakened monster tried to raise its last remaining arm. The girl hardly noticed how the three tired fighters surged forward, tackling the remaining limb, using their weight to hold it down. “No. More!” She screamed hysterically, tears falling down her cheeks. Her right arm was nearly completely crystallized, turned into something jagged and sharp, rather than a human limb. She lifted and drove it right into the ethereal’s chest, the opposite side of a human heart, where the armored flesh had been thicker and jagged to protect the core. It released a blood-curdling shriek, making the four of them cringe with pain, but the stranger just repeated the action.

“No more! No more! No more! No more!” She screamed uncontrollably, more tears straining her cheeks, as she drove her mutated arm into the beast with all the force she could. Over and over and over again. With one final, unhinged scream, she grabbed one of its horns for leverage and drove her arm right through its chest, sinking down into her shoulder.

Finally, it stopped moving. After ten seconds, its body shimmered with etheric light, like a glitchy computer screen, before melting into the ground into a pile of goop. The three agents yelped as they were dropped onto the hard ground, but the civilian fell without a noise.

“No,” Soldier 11 gasped, holding her side and crawling to the woman. She looked downright afraid, pushing Trigger away before grabbing her rescue. “Stay with us, Lucila. We’re almost out. Come on!” She shook the body desperately, letting out a strangled, pained gasp. “We need to get her out. Now! Trigger, we- we need-”

“Don’t worry, we’ve got her,” a familiar voice called out.

Miyabi looked up from the ground to see Harumasa, his smile gone, slide to his knees right up to Lucila. Without hesitation, he popped open the cap of an injection, anti-corruption serum, and slammed it into her shoulder, injecting every last drop. “That won’t keep her stable for long. We need to move. Two people need help.”

“I’ve got her!” Soukaku called out, her usually carefree voice also tense with worry as she propped Soldier 11 against her side, while still wielding her ridiculously large sword in the other like it was nothing.

“Chief!” Yanagi finally cried out, heels clicking on the ground as she rushed over, crouching low to cup the fox thirens face. “Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

Miyabi didn’t answer for a moment. She looked shocked. Not by the appearance of her team, they’d saved her before, but everything else. “That girl,” she begged quietly, eyes meeting her Deputy’s. “Get her out. Now.”

“You heard her, everyone. We’re running,” Yanagi barked. Without hesitation, she lifted Miyabi, turning around and shifting the fox onto her back, and together the eight of them began toward the Hollow exit. Soukaku helping Soldier 11, Harumasa carrying Lucila, Yanagi taking Miyabi, and Trigger leading the way with Agent Gulliver.

Only now did the Void Hunter realize just how badly the fight had sapped her. How deeply Tailless had dug into her mind and body to try to defeat the enemy. She could feel the blade's anger, having failed that mission, but there was little she could do now.

As she was carried off by her team, finally in the realm of safety, there was little more she could do but let the fatigue take over. Miyabi closed her eyes and allowed sleep to take over.

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New Hero (An Overwatch Fanfic)

An Overwatch original story!

Chapter 2: Rude Awakening

Fic Summary: With the resurgence of Null Sector across the world and the rebirth of Talon no one is spared, and heroes both new and old enter or return to the fold. Some by choice, some by invitation, and some by tragedy. Hunting former Overwatch agents before they can become a problem, Talon has killed Alessandro Soto's mother and taken his triplet sisters. Follow him as he works to rescue his family, avenge his mother, and unexpectedly learns about his family's past with Overwatch in the process.

Main Characters: Mercy (Angela Zielger), Dva (Hana Song), Alessandro (Original Character) Supporting Cast: N/A

Thanks for reading!

Alessandro had no clue how long it had been. There was a sense of time passing in patches, as if he was sometimes more aware and other times completely gone. One moment, he felt people walking around him, and at another, he swore he could have heard crying, but it amounted to little. There was nothing to recognize or snap him out of it. Nothing personal, at least.

Sometimes the best medicine is simply time.

His eyes snapped open one night with no warning or sign. The lights in the room were dimmed, and a heart monitor beeped softly beside his hospital bed. The first thing Alessandro noticed was the smell of food. His stomach growled, and he slowly and painfully slid his legs off the bed and ripped off the monitor’s cables. There was a plate of some food, mush, and soft bread, on a little table beside him, and he took to it like a vulture to a corpse, desperately shoving the food in with desperate panting.

The second thing Alessandro noticed, once some food had gone down, was the hospital gown. These weren’t his clothes, and this wasn’t his house. What had happened? He stood straighter, scanning the room and slowly shoveling the last of the food in his mouth, chewing curiously.

He remembered running with his sisters. Blocking the door. The way Clara cried after he had disarmed her. Then, with wide eyes, the image of those dead soldiers returned. The young man covered his mouth, gagging, and now his heart raced with panic all over again. He’d killed them, that was right, and then…

“Muñecas?” He rasped, frowning and glancing down as his throat refused to work. He coughed, rubbing it with one hand, and trying again. Louder. “Girls? Clara? Luzmila? Bianca?!”

Fire began to boil his blood. He only had one thought.

Where are my sisters?

Alessandro didn’t care that he couldn’t recognize where he was. Didn’t care for the logos on the nearby walls or the way the lights seemed to automatically come to life. He stormed the door, grunting and weakly pushing it open. Only now did the weeks in bed become apparent; He fell to his hands and knees with a gasp of pain, head spinning.

It didn’t matter. He had his girls to find.

“Clara?! Bianca! Luzmila!” He yelled. His eyes squeezed shut, groaning as he leaned on the wall for support, slowly standing. With only the sound of his feet slapping onto the metal floors, he strode forward, one foot in front of the other, ignoring the sweat down his brow and the rasping of his breathing.

“Bianca,” Alessandro coughed, slinking forward onto the ground again, beside a new double door. There was machinery whirring behind it and a brighter blue glow coming out through the thin panels of glass. Unable to stand quite yet, he crawled forward, using his shoulder to silently push the left door open.

Inside was a command center. Or, at least, how he might have envisioned one. The far wall was covered in holographic and physical screens of different kinds, many with satellite imagery or street camera feeds. Many terminals had their own seats, but the center of the room seemed dominated by a large sofa. It could easily hold ten people and seemed to face the largest monitor, with two sides sticking out of it.

Strangest of all? The main screen showed a video game. Alessandro could barely see a head poking out from the sofa, unmoving, and his heart rate spiked again. Without hesitation, he looked around, crawling closer to a terminal, and squeezing his eyes shut as he pulled himself up, doing his best to muffle any painful groans.

Once he was up, he grabbed the first thing on the terminal, a stapler, and turned to the individual on the sofa. It took all his effort, one step at a time, as he approached on his own two feet. His breathing grew faster, tenser, with each step forward, preparing to swing the stapler down onto this person’s head with all the force he could muster.

It was only when he reached them that he noticed it was a her. An Asian girl, wearing a green t-shirt and black panties, stared tiredly at the screen as her fingers seemed to move on muscle memory alone. Her eyes were barely opened and she sat perfectly still, as if in a trance.

Then, without warning, her head lazily swiveled left. Both of their eyes met, his wide with surprise, and hers still half asleep and confused. She very clearly glanced at the stapler, then back to Alessandro.

Finally, her brain snapped awake. Her breath hitched and her eyes widened with recognition. She glanced at the stapler again. Before Alessandro could decide what to do, she yelled something in a language he did not understand and hurled her game controller forward.

It hit him with a sickening crack! He fell flat on his back, crying out as pain exploded from his nose to the rest of his face. His eyes closed, head leaning back against the cold floor as he tried to think.

Her footsteps, confident and strong, were coming closer. Panicking, he opened one eye to see her approach and grit his teeth, grabbing her ankle with one hand. With all the remaining strength Alessandro had, he pulled back, hearing a satisfied yelp as the girl hit the sofa and fell to the ground. But she wasn’t half dead, alone, and confused. In an instant, she shifted closer and grabbed his wrist, wrapping her bare legs around his arm before locking him in an arm bar.

“Fuck!” Alessandro yelled, grasping weakly with his free arm. “Let me go! ¡Putísima madre que te parió!”

“How did you get in here?!” She snapped, keeping her hold tight. Her eyebrows scrunched together in anger and confusion until she finally scanned her supposed attacker. Then they widened in shock. “Hey, you’re the kid from the med bay.” It took another moment for her to gasp in recognition, panicking as she released his arm and scuttled back. “You’re the boy from the med bay! Don’t move! I’ll get help-”

“No!” Alessandro snapped, lifting his head to glare at her. He reached out with a hand, swallowing hard. “Please don’t. I- I’m just really fucking lost, okay? Can we...can we take a second?”

“But your nose,” she began to say, only to be cut off.

“I barely hurts. Please, just...help me up.”

She smiles, pitifully, which stirs a little annoyance in his chest. “Promise not to attack me?”

“Promise.”

Just like that, the night seemed to return to that peaceful, three in the morning feeling. Her game was on the main menu, quietly humming its music, the blue light from the screens washed the entire room in a soft glow, and then there was the girl. She helped him reach and sit down on the sofa, stronger than he had imagined, and with a protectiveness he usually gave rather than enjoyed. Then she sat on the other side, criss-crossing her legs, leaning on them with both hands, and watching him intently.

“How are you feeling?” She finally asked when he leaned back and closed his eyes. She sounded genuinely concerned, which made Alessandro snort.

“You kind of kicked my ass,” he replied, smiling tightly and lazily dropping his head to look back at her. “Like, badly. I’m not feeling too hot.”

She frowns, half glaring at him, and her voice is sharp with accusation. “You were about to hit me with a stapler. Actually, it looked like you wanted to kill me.”

That brings him back to reality. His eyes drop, looking away from her in shame, and the memories from earlier rush back. It’s too much, all at once, to even attempt to process. Especially now that he was thinking and not reacting. His mother was dead. He could still see the face of her killer: A woman of purple skin, a dozen red eyes, and a sleek black rifle. He remembered the way her body fell, eyes wide with shock and completely blank.

Then there was the matter of his sisters. Clara’s crying face as she aimed the gun at him felt seared into his retinas.

“Hey.” She was next to him now, a soft hand gently shaking his shoulder. “Where are you?” Her eyes narrow, nose scrunching up in suspicion or confusion. “You’re safe here.”

“I was thinking about my sisters, it's all,” he sighed heavily, shoulders slumping and looking away. “Where are they? Were they injured, too? If I’m alright, after covering them, I’m guessing they’re well off.”

The girl’s eyes widen, surprised, staring at him blankly. Alessandro’s stomach drops before she says the words.

“What sisters? You were the only one left at the house.”

“No,” he snapped, smiling widely, nervously, his heart rate shooting up at an instant. He grabbed her arms, squeezing. “There were three girls. Triplets. They were underneath me. We hid in the corner, and I covered them when the house came down. Where are they?”

“Oh no,” she murmured, remaining calm despite his aggression. “Look, there were no bodies there. No sign of a struggle or blood, beside yours. Okay? We can-”

Alessandro’s breath was coming out faster now, shallow and panicked breaths that made his sight spin. “You didn’t grab my sisters? They’re only eight! How the fuck did you miss them? Was anyone there before you? What happened to the house?! The town?!”

“Calm down,” she tried again, gripping his shoulders tightly. “Look at me: Breathe. We can figure out what happened together. Alright? We’re here to help.”

“Who the fuck is we?” He snapped, volume rising.

“We are Overwatch,” another voice chimed in, from the door. Alessandro’s head snapped to the right, looking over the sofa, past the computers and metal floor, to the entrance. The image was so strange that it actually calmed him for a moment, forcing his brain to question itself.

The woman before them looked like an angel. A very tired angel. She had porcelain skin, blue eyes with dark circles under them, and short blonde hair with the bangs brushed thicker over her right eye. Most of her form was covered by a white and brown body suit, with golden fabric falling loosely on the front and back. She stepped forward, and two mechanical wings flexed silently.

“I think I’m losing my mind,” he said, smiling again. Giggling. Before he knew it, he had let go of the girl and fallen back on the sofa, cackling loudly and sobbing, covering his face with both hands. “I’m losing my gods damned mind! Oh man, I’m insane. I lost it. I died.”

“He’s hysterical,” the angel said, already looming over the sofa. Her heels click on the floor as she walks around to their side, pressing a hand to his cheek. “You should have alerted Athena immediately, Hana.”

“I didn’t want this to happen,” the girl, Hana, answered loudly, her face covered in concern. “Can’t you fix him, Angela?”

“My technology is for physical wounds. This is an emotional overload. Trauma.” Her voice is as mechanical as her wings. Even in his panic, the fatigue is obvious. A healthier Alessandro might have tried to help her.

Instead, he laughed again, furiously wiping his face and shaking his head. “No, no, no, I’m fine. I’m fine. Fuck! I’ll be fine-”

“Shhh,” the angel, Angela, cuts him off with a gentle squeeze on the cheek. “Look at me. You are right. For now, breathe with me. Yes? In…” She exaggeratedly inhales. “And out.”

He flinches, something pricking his neck, smile turning into a frown, but Angela leans down, holding his gaze with those sad eyes. “Look at me. You are alright. Keep breathing.”

Only the tiniest voice of reason warned Alessandro that he had been given something. Yet, even with her cold disinterest, the angel is something to look at. Her hand is warm and strong. For the first time since his mother was shot, he thinks: Maybe I can let go for one second.

The moment his mind surrenders, it is easy for the drug to take over. His breathing becomes easier, and the laugh-crying stops. The sofa feels soft as his head falls back and she releases him, eyes slowly drooping back to sleep.

“We’ll keep him under supervision,” Angela said to Hana, softly. “He will awaken tomorrow, probably early, and then we will figure out the situation.”

“He said he had sisters with him at the house,” Hana whispered back, standing up with a regretful expression. “Did we miss something back there?”

Angela muttered something he couldn’t get, in German, maybe, and exhaled dramatically. “I will tell Sojourn.”

That was the last Alessandro heard before the darkness took over completely.

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Writing Inspo (Of The Day!)

I figured, while I'm working on a chapter, I could share some of the stuff that helps me.

For what I'm currently writing? No Time to Die, by Billie Eilish.

I don't listen to her a lot but the emotional pieces (I love angst and sacrifice) are amazing. If I need the MC to be serious, angsty, or dramatically fighting, it's this.

[neppyshub]

New Hero (Overwatch Fanfic)

An Overwatch original story!

Chapter 1: It's Happening Again

Summary: With the resurgence of Null Sector across the world and the rebirth of Talon no one is spared, and heroes both new and old enter or return to the fold. Some by choice, some by invitation, and some by tragedy. Hunting former Overwatch agents before they can become a problem, Talon has killed Alessandro Soto's mother and taken his triplet sisters. Follow him as he works to rescue his family, avenge his mother, and unexpectedly learns about his family's past with Overwatch in the process.

Main Characters: Original character (our beloved casts will come soon!) Supporting Cast: N/A

Thanks for reading!

It’s happening again. Those had been the words of his mother, Evone, on a scary night when she’d woken up screaming. It wasn’t a typical scene. In fact, he’d never seen her have a night terror again after that, but the words, the way her eyes widened in shock, had always stuck with him. Even though it made no sense, those three words were all he could think of: It’s happening again. It’s happening again. It’s happening again.

“In the basement, go, go, go!” He yelled to his three sisters: Clara, Bianca, and Luzmila. The triplets. They were seven years old, stuffed into jeans and color-coded jackets: yellow for Clara, blue for Bianca, and red for Luzmila. As soon as they were halfway down the steps, he followed, slamming the door shut, knocking the jackets off the chair they left next to it, and jamming it under the knob.

“Alessandro!” Luzmila yelled as he hopped down the steps into the basement apartment. “Bianca won’t stop crying.”

Luzmila was the shortest, but the loudest. Her calm and quick obedience had helped Alessandro get them all to the safety of home. Her hair was straight, like their mothers', and light brown, with fair skin and worried eyes. Next to her was Bianca. Despite being the tallest and biggest, easily able to compete with the boys her age and knock down her sisters, she was skittish. Her hair was wavy and shorter, reaching only to her neck, the same brown as her sisters'.

“Wait, where’s Clara?” Alessandro asked, frowning, kneeling to hug Bianca as he looked around. The familiar beeping of the safe, from their parents' room, and said device unlocking gave her away.

The older sibling kissed Bianca’s head and let go, dashing to the small bedroom. There, on the other side of the double bed, Clara stood. Chocolate curls like her older brother, olive skin touched with freckles, and deep brown eyes that matched all her siblings. In her hands? A gun, the pistol, both parents kept for safety.

“Clara, soltá eso.” She was the trickster, the problem child. He wasn’t even surprised she knew the code to the safe: She always found out what was forbidden.

“They shot her,” Clara replied, her voice tight as she held the gun in hands too small for it, eyes welling with tears. “And we left her there.”

“I left her there,” Alessandro said firmly, standing up and putting a hand to his heart. “She told me to grab you three, and I did. But it was me.”

“We should have helped. Mama is always telling us to help,” Clara whispered, her voice ragged, barely holding those tears back. He glanced at the gun and sighed. She wasn’t going to listen to him. She never did. But she was also a kid- One who didn’t know about safeties, or loading, or aiming straight.

“Maybe we should have,” Alessandro says quietly, his matching eyes meeting hers, gaze harsh. Just like both their parents sometimes did, when they got mad, and acted more like drill sergeants than parents. He stepped forward, going around the bed, and Clara gasped. She stepped back against the closet, lifting the pistol. “Mama’s objective was us.” He continues, even as her eyes widen and her hands tremble, the gun too heavy in her hands. “My objective is you.” Another step, and Clara looked away, tears falling down her face. She didn’t pull the trigger (thank the Iris). “I’m sorry. But I don’t regret the choice.”

He finally pulled the empty weapon from her hand and tugged her close, one strong arm hugging the little girl. Clara cried and grunted and pushed, angry at nothing and everything. After all, their mother just died, and she still didn’t know who to blame. Except, maybe, the brother who forced her to run. That was good enough for now, Alessandro thought, as long as she didn’t blame herself.

“Alessandro!” Luzmila yelled again, breaking the moment, her voice full of urgency. It snapped both little sister and older brother back to reality, Clara pulling away to run to the living room as Alessandro reached under their father’s side of the bed, pulling out a smaller and lighter safe. He input the code: 042346, and pulled the magazine out.

“Alessandro!”

“I’m here, I’m frigging here,” he said, walking out of the room and quickly herding his sisters into the kitchen. “Luz, what’s what?”

“Someone’s trying to get in,” Luzmila said immediately, using her “serious” voice. She tugged the other two back as Alessandro tucked the pistol into his waistband and moved to push the fridge, grunting as it slid to the side, revealing a crawlspace under the stairs. “They aren’t Omnics- They didn’t break the door.”

“Absolutely fantastic reasoning, Luz. When we get out, I’m getting you a prize,” he answered, grabbing the girls one by one and sending them into the crawlspace, sitting them down. Their older brother got on one knee, taking a deep breath, giving them a stern look. “Alright, girlies. Quiero silencio total. It could be people who need help, or bad guys. So, you let me handle it.”

Of course, Luzmila was the only one to nod. Bianca was still shaking and tear-stained, and Clara was sitting off to the side, still as a statue. So he gave her a firm nod and a smile, and then stood up. Moments later, the fridge was back in place, the pistol was in his hand, and he was at the bottom of the stairs, listening.

Thump thump thump!

Luzmila was right. An Omnic would have smashed the door and doorstopper through, even if his parents had reinforced it. An hour ago, when their mother had died, it wasn’t a robot that did it. He had heard the crack of a rifle, seen the glint in the distance, and heard her say, “It’s her.” Someone was hunting them, but why? And who?

A crash brought the boy back to reality, the door finally slamming open, and distinctly human voices came through. “Yeah, we’re here now. Searching for the children. The door was reinforced and barred- Someone is definitely here. Roger that.”

Alessandro thought back to every time his parents both made him train. Made him work out, run, swim, and practice shooting. Every time, he was denied free time and sweet treats. Videogames or sleepovers. For once, he was thankful for their paranoia, because whatever enemy they’d both worried about was finally here.

“You two: Take the left, we’ll take the right-”

The soldier who spoke didn’t finish his sentence. When he felt the cool metal of the gun against his head, he froze, realization hitting for just a moment before Alessandro pulled the trigger. The rest was a blur. Someone cursed, and everyone began firing, but the boy pushed the fresh corpse into the second man coming down the stairs, then shot through the third's kneecap as he descended, so he’d crash down the last couple of steps onto the floor. He turned the corner and aimed up the stairs, firing three shots in rapid succession. Bam, bam, bam!

The fourth man fell, dead. The second pushed his comrade’s body off of him, bringing his rifle to bear, and Alessandro dove behind the sofa, lying flat on the ground and closing his eyes as bullets tore through the furniture and zipped right above him.

Click!

In a panic, the soldier had emptied the magazine. Cursing, he dropped it and pulled another out, as the other survivor of Alessandro’s ambush continued to scream in pain and tried to pull himself to cover.

“Don’t fucking move!” Alessandro yelled, standing up and aiming his pistol at the standing one. “Neither of you!” For a few moments, everyone froze. The tension thickened as the boy thought about what to do. One thing was working with training and instinct, another was executing two men at gunpoint. He did what he did best: He spoke. “Who are you? Why are you searching for me?” Not us, no, because if they could believe he was alone, that would be better. “And why did you kill my mom?”

“Just following orders, kid,” the one standing said. His whole group was wearing dark clothes, combat boots, and light armor that was gray and black. Their helmets were all silver, with glowing red eyes. Nothing Alessandro could recognize. “I’m sure, as an army brat, you’d get that.”

“Whose orders?” Alessandro said immediately, taking one step closer, as if daring the man to lie.

Before he could say anything, a single gunshot rang out from the man on the floor, who had discreetly taken the sidearm from his dead friend and aimed it up towards the boy. Once again, all hell broke loose. The man standing pulled out his sidearm- And received two bullets to the chest for his troubles, then Alessandro jumped over the sofa to the other side, as the injured one on the floor fired wildly at him. Finally, without thought, the boy yelled and shot the rest of his magazine through the sofa, in the direction of his last enemy. Then it was quiet.

He lay still for a minute. Then two. Staring at the bullet-ridden sofa and waiting to see if the injured man would make a noise, fire a bullet, or call for help. Only after the third minute did Alessandro slowly shift onto a hand, then to his feet, hesitantly looking at the ground.

Dead. They were all dead. One at his feet, three in front of the stairs. A decade of physical preparation had paid off. Yet, it was only physical, because now that the fight was done, Alessandro could feel disgust rising up his throat in the form of bile. He turned away from the corpses, groaning loudly as he threw up his lunch, and fell to his knees. His grip on the gun was so hard that he thought it might break.

“Ale?” Luzmila called hesitantly, hearing the noise.

“You do not speak until you know it’s safe!” Alessandro immediately yelled back, a half growl in his voice. The older brother immediately regretted it, standing up and wiping his mouth, jogging back over the kitchen, and gripping the sides of the fridge. His hands trembled from adrenaline, and perhaps the slow realization of what he’d just done. He lowered his voice, spitting bile to the side. “Just...you girls know that. Okay? Come on, we definitely have to move.”

The house shook from an explosion outside, making one of them scream, and Alessandro grunted as he tried to push the fridge. It felt ten times heavier now, and he had to turn and put his back to it- Gritting his teeth and slowly inching it out of the way, until he slid down to the floor, and watched his siblings crawl out.

“God dang,” he panted, wiping his forehead and leaning back against the appliance. “That was harder than before.”

“Em…” The three siblings stared at him. Clara with blank, wide eyes, Bianca with terror, and Luzmila with tears, for the first time. She shakily pointed down at his side, where blood and the clear hole of a bullet wound were.

“...well, fuck me,” he muttered, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. He hadn’t felt a thing, not pain or leakage. Now that he saw it, confusion poured in like a flood, nausea kicking in right along with it. “I’m good. It’s not fatal.”

Maybe it was, but they didn’t need to know that.

The three girls screamed and tensed when the entire house shook, windows breaking, dust from the sealing falling, and floor tiles cracking. Then it did it again, and again, like giant footsteps. The danger brought Alessandro back to reality, painfully grunting as he stood up and guided his sisters to a corner. He turned them around, backs facing him, and then wrapped himself over the three as best he could.

“I love you girls,” he said quietly, heart racing as the shaking grew stronger and the pounding louder. “Gods, I love you more than anything, alright? You’re gonna be okay.”

They’re gonna be okay. That was the last thought he had before the house began to crumble around them, and his world went black.

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Rifts of the World (Chapter 4)

A Zenless Zone Zero original story!

To start from the beginning click here.

Chapter 4: It Just Gets Better and Better

Main Characters: Hoshimi Miyabi, Seed Supporting Cast: Captain Magus, Orpheus Thanks for reading!

“This,” Trigger said, smiling softly and waving a hand to the strange girl. “Is Seed. She is our squad’s artillery unit. Her mech, which you just saw, is Seed Senior. She’s also a bit of a tech genius.”

Seed, undeterred by the presence of a Void Hunter, steps forward and leans low to gape at the Tailless’s hilt, eyes wide with curiosity. “Interesting! You are aware this device is no longer functional, right? It looks like it overloaded.”

“I am aware,” Miyabi replied, gripping the hilt of her sword and standing slightly taller. “Tailless, and I have an understanding. The sheath is no longer a necessary precaution.”

“O-oh, I see,” Seed said with a smile. “Having an equal partnership is better. Like Seed Senior and me! I would never put limits on him. I mean, we are a team.”

“Seed,” Trigger interrupted, putting a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Are you and Seed Senior alright? Where is the rest of the squad? We’re in a bit of a hurry here.”

“Right,” Seed said, snapping up to attention. She stepped forward, a type of segway appearing out of thin air, and grabbed the handles. It rolled around on one rotating sphere in the center, moving in the direction where she leaned. “We were separated by a powerful Ethereal, which is what attracted all this unwanted company! I chose to hold back the main force and hide when the Captain, Orphie, and Soldier 11 were clear.”

“Three more,” Miyabi chimed in, curious. “I thought your squad was only composed of four members?”

“You’ll see how it works,” Trigger answered dismissively before continuing with Seed. “Are they still within comms range? Can you track them?”

“The unique nature of the ether here is limiting all systems,” Seed declared, frowning. “Essentially, communications are only short range, and if we don’t leave soon their may be negative effects on your visor, Seed Senior, and Captain Magus. It’s impossible to tell until we study it in depth.”

Miyabi looked around the street, then up past the buildings. Tailless seemed to tremble in her head, eager to continue along, and she sighed.

“I can track them,” the thiren said softly. “So long as they’re fighting, I can find them. And I believe at least one of your comrades is in combat. If your comrades fell through different rifts, then it is likely we must enter another.”

“If I had updated carrot data, I could plot a route,” Seed offered. Agent Gulliver, standing dutifully by Miyabi’s feet, finally perked up with a sharp ‘Eh nah!’. The pilot smiled, nodding. “I was hoping you’d say that, little friend. This bangboo and I can plot out coordinates.”

Trigger turned to Miyabi, leaning in close to whisper. “Chief Miyabi, you are easily the best equipped to deal with these new Ethereals, but you’ve done so much on this mission. Please, ride on Seed Senior and conserve your strength. Trust us to keep you safe until you’re needed again.”

Her words echoed Yanagi’s so closely. More than that, she seemed truly concerned for the sword woman’s well-being. She held an affection that, usually, Miyabi would struggle to detect. It was obvious. And welcome.

Miyabi nodded, gasping in surprise as the large arms of Seed Senior lifted her onto its back, with Seed Junior giggling happily. Then the mech lifted Trigger into its arms while the bangboo hopped onto her lap.

“Coordinates are plotted. Agent Gulliver, if you’d like to guide us.”

Miyabi had to admit: It was a stroke of luck to run into Seed first. Few people could keep up with her speed, but the ability to fly over buildings and obstacles, all while still being able to fight, was a major boon. It was also clear that Seed had not only an affinity for tech but a love for it. The thiren suspected she did not need Agent Gulliver to navigate, yet she made sure to follow his directions to the letter. Similarly, her insight into Tailless was surprisingly in depth.

I would never put limits on him. I mean, we are a team.

They had made a deal, Tailless and her, but was she still limiting the spirit of the blade? Had she gotten over her anxiety and the years of ingrained training, all meant to limit the sword, and truly allowed their united skill to flourish?

“The rift is ahead,” Seed announced, her voice turning serious. “No enemies detected outside the rift. Scanners do not work inside. This is likely where Soldier 11 or Captain Magus and Orphie ran into. I recommend a quick extraction. Based on the information, it is likely a member of our squad entered a different rift from here.”

“Meaning we need to return to this Hollow,” Miyabi finished. “And then find a third rift to enter, with the last member of your squad.”

Trigger double checked her magazine, her thumb rubbing over the top bullet, before sliding it back in and racking the bolt. “Seed and Chief Miyabi, you two should go in. Use your speed and firepower to make this quick. I will find a position with Agent Gulliver and defend your exit.”

Miyabi leaned over Seed Senior’s shoulder, peering down at Trigger, who looked rather silly lying in the mech’s arms. “Are you certain? If more of those camouflaging ethereals appear, and you cannot kill them, then-”

“Someone has to do it,” she cut in as Seed landed, sliding off its hold onto the ground. “This way we can extract whoever is in their fastest and return here before anyone’s overwhelmed. Seed: Go.”

A reminder that Miyabi was very much not in charge. The second Trigger had given the order, Seed: Go, the mech shot into the rift without hesitation, forcing the Void Hunter to hold on tightly.

Everything about this area was different, confirming the theory that these rifts led to multiple places around the planet. Despite her stoicism, Miyabi shuddered as a frozen wind suddenly whipped and blew around her, snow hitting her face and forcing her to look away. Seed’s chassis immediately warmed up, and the mech spun, grabbing Miyabi and holding her close, trying to block out the weather. From what little she could see, well, she couldn’t see. No more than three feet in any direction. In fact, she had no clue how to find the way home from here.

“Don’t worry, Chief Miyabi,” Seed sang happily. “We have a strong signal locked onto Trigger through the rift, and I can detect anyone else once we are close enough.”

“How can anyone survive out here? Hasn’t it been hours since your squad mates were separated?” Miyabi asked. Too late, she realized that sort of objective thinking was not good for morale. She could practically feel Seed tensing through the mech. Maybe they were so connected it was the mech tensing for her.

“We have been in worse situations,” she answered, blasting forward into the blizzard. “I trust they’ve found a way to make it.”

Before Miyabi could think of what to say, if indeed there were words to add, the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. She opened her mouth to speak, but Seed had sensed, or detected, the same thing. Seed Senior veered hard to the left and, through the gap in his arms, she saw a beam of reds and purples fly past them. A etheric attack, to be sure, but with a size and power few of the monsters actually held.

“Enemies detected,” Seed chirped. “Engaging! Chief Miyabi, are you able to fight?”

“If you can position me close to the enemy, then yes,” she replied, twisting in the mech’s hands and grabbing her weapon. “Very close, as I cannot see or hear much of anything.”

“That won’t be a problem for Seed Senior and I,” the girl giggled, pushing her hands down on the joysticks, blasting forward.

The fox thiren couldn’t make sense of much from her position and the brutal conditions, but she heard a mechanism open on Seed Senior’s back, and could hear the firing of several missiles as the mech dove low towards the ground. Snow and sleet parted. In the distance, the missiles exploded and lit up several figures for a few moments.

Seed Senior spun, pulling Miyabi back in his hands, and launched her forward. She stumbled once while unsheathing her blade and then rolled with the momentum, right into the group of Ethereals. These seemed much more typical: Crystal bodies, glowing cores, and slow reaction times. Not exactly the ones from New Eridu, but close enough. However, out here, even weak enemies could be dangerous if underestimated. Miyabi wasted no time cutting through them, criss-crossing from monster to monster, her sword glowing bright blue as it cut through their bodies like butter.

The moment the blue light of her energy faded, a metal hand grabbed her by the waist, lifting her, and Seed’s cheerful voice was in her ear. “Up we go!” As she spoke, two rectangular metal turrets materialized on either side of the mech. As the two launched into the air, the turrets aimed back to the ground, and two blue lasers finished off the Ethereals Miyabi had wounded.

“So, we have a bit of a problem,” Seed declared, as cheerful as ever. “One moment! Launching you again.”

The Void Hunter was ready this time. She twisted and pushed off at the same time Seed threw her, shooting forward while Seed’s lasers fired past her left and right into the next group of enemies. Miyabi landed on her feet, sliding on ice, and made herself spin. At the same time, she slashed in a wide, smooth arc. A wave of blue energy emitted from her sword, cutting through the group around her in one clean move. This time she sheathed her sword and jumped, flipping backwards, and landing on Seed, who flew right underneath her.

“What is the problem?” Miyabi barked, her free arm covering her face, eyes narrowing as snow and sleet blew into her face.

Seed hit the brakes. Hard. The fox thiren almost went flying, but Seed Senior’s hands were already up and catching Miyabi, pulling her close to the machine’s chest. She blasted off into the air.

“Well, it seems Captain Magus and Orphie are surrounded by people,” Seed explained. “Hostiles, for sure. They look like rebels from New Eridu.”

People matching the description of known rebels? Out here, through a rift, in who knew which part of the world?

“I can handle it.”

There was no time for questions. In this weather, fighting off rebels, and having been gone for hours? No one could guarantee the condition of the two soldiers. Furthermore, she wouldn’t last long in these arctic conditions either. In and out, fast and hard, just as Trigger had said. Before anyone had the chance to be overwhelmed.

“Understood.” Seed flew faster, straight ahead, and her arms curled around Miyabi, preparing for another throw. “I’ll grab you the second the enemies are dealt with-”

She didn’t get a chance to finish the sentence before the mech was struck with a beam. Something in the distance lit up, brightly, and she barely managed to twist Seed Senior so his back would take the brunt of the attack. The pilot, the mech, and the Void Hunter all fell from the air, hitting the snowy ground hard.

The floor trembled as something approached the two of them. Miyabi, who’d fallen onto the snow a few feet in front of Seed, shakily rose to one knee, raising a hand against the wind and snow and squinting to see the enemy.

For a second, a shape similar to Seed Senior lit up. It was a mech of some sort, with a much larger chassis and less humanoid shape, and a red-stained glass cockpit. The lights, Miyabi realized, were missiles launching just like Seed Senior had done. Despite the pushing and whipping of the snow and wind, she wielded her sword, inhaling sharply and stepping forward, slicing clean through the first projectile, which fell on either side of the two harmlessly. She cut through the second and the third as well, but it was useless. A barrage was about to rain down on them.

Seed Senior sprang forward, blue lasers cutting through the snow and upwards, detonating a dozen missiles in the air before they could land on the Void Hunter. Without a word, Seed blasted forward into the other mech, slamming right into it and taking them both out of view.

“Seed!” Miyabi yelled out, but the wind stole her voice. There was little time to hesitate. She covered her face with one arm, pushing through the wind in the direction she believed the other members of Obol Squad were. Indeed, she could barely make out the rattle of gunfire and the squealing of a laser.

The constant fire outlined a dilapidated, wooden barn, with several soldiers surrounding it in various positions. They were either less bothered by the cold or committed to the mission, because no one seemed eager to rush in or leave, for their sake or that of their comrades.

As she walked closer, a large laser burst through the window of the barn, slamming into a woman in dark fatigues who went down screaming. The thiren could hear a robotic, vaguely female voice from inside.

“I won’t let a single one of you touch her! You’re all set for execution!”

Likelihood had it as Captain Magus.

“We’re gonna tear you from that girl's spine and melt you down into slag, you shit!” A soldier answered, pulling out a grenade from his pocket.

Miyabi unsheathed her blade and sprinted forward, slicing clean through his wrist. The explosive fell to the snow with a spray of red, staining the snow. Without hesitation, she kicked it with a heeled boot, right into two other enemies.

Someone frantically tried to yell “Grena-”

Boom!

A body went flying. Someone was left screaming, clutching a limb. It wasn’t a view she enjoyed, but there was little she could do to avoid it. The remaining soldiers turned on her, firing in scattered patterns, and the Void Hunter flipped back several times before lifting her blade and deflecting half a dozen rounds.

Someone stood up. “Does anyone see her? Where is-”

Another laser exited the window, pushing the soldier deep into the snowstorm with a blood-curdling scream. The rebels began to panic as their numbers dwindled, screaming confusing orders, firing at Miyabi and the barn, or simply running and falling over in the snow. Another laser hit its mark. Then another. It seemed whoever had been surrounded was not going to let any escape.

But Miyabi didn’t have to participate in this. She had done her part. Calmly, the fox girl stowed her sword and waited, watching as the shadows of soldiers were illuminated by the laser fire and sent downwards, dead, one by one.

It was only when the rebels had stopped moving, and the lasers hesitated, that she cupped her hands around her mouth, yelling. “This is Chief Miyabi of Section 6, working in tandem with the Defense Force and members of Obsidian Division’s Obol Squad! Identify yourself!”

“...how do I know you are who you say?!” The robotic voice yelled back after a few moments' hesitation. “You could be another rebel!”

Miyabi inhaled deeply, fingers shaking from the cold. “Trigger led me to the rift, then Seed led me here, and she is fighting an enemy mech nearby! I’m also aware there is another member of your squad, Soldier 11! I’ve met Colonel Isolde, who is very worried, and requested our help alongside Scott Outpost’s commander, Commander Roland!”

That gave the soldier pause. Although usually calm in all her interactions, Miyabi couldn’t help but feel antsy. She could hardly feel her face or her fingers, and frost was building up on her blade. They needed to hurry.

“I am coming in!” She yelled over the elements, very slowly peaking her head through, and then entering.

Before her was the first truly worrisome situation she’d found on this mission, and just as confusing as well. A girl sat against the far wall, unconscious, her skin worryingly pale, her thick jacket torn, and her bare right leg wrapped in a bloody bandage. Hugging her form was a metal…snake? A thick metal body started at the girl’s spine, wrapping around her waist, growing thinner as it slid under and around one of her armpits. Two colorful and digital eyes met the Void Hunter’s. The robot snake had a small, red head, a tiny black captain’s beret, and the inside of its jaw glowed in warning.

“I am Captain Magus,” it declared, wrapping slightly tighter around the girl. “And this is my companion, Orpheus. We were ambushed, and she is out of commission. Who did you come with?”

“Seed,” Miyabi answered, red eyes glued to the two. She added, with slight hesitation. “And...Seed Senior, I believe, the mech. We were engaged by an enemy mech I have never seen before. She is facing it now.”

Captain Magus’s long body shuddered, although they were careful not to harm their peer. “Seed can’t beat it. Not with the intel we have, not out here. We need to go.”

“How will we tell-”

“She already knows,” the captain said, clicking its metallic jaw. “Seed is a technological genius. I’m sure one look told her all she had to know. She’ll be crashing through the wall any second now.”

This must be how others saw her own squad, Section 6, Miyabi thought as Seed crashed through the roof right on cue. The way these people seemed to know each other, so perfectly, and the trust that they held...well, there was a reason Miyabi had taken a liking to them and decided to push forward with this mission.

“Seed, am I right to assume the enemy mech is still operational?” Captain Magus asked, their voice suspicious. Seed Senior vanished, depositing Seed next to Orpheus, who grabbed her squadmate worriedly.

“Yes, Captain,” Seed replied, frowning. “Your bodies have taken a lot of damage. Captain Magus, you had no choice but to drag her along, did you?” When Magus, perhaps ashamed or concerned, did not respond, the artillery specialist sighed. “I can carry us all back through the rift, but the mech will try to stop us. The missiles are no issue, but the laser...it is devastating. I don’t even know how they hold so much energy.”

Miyabi took one step forward. “Leave that to me. I can handle the laser.”

The two members of Obol Squad, who had experienced the machine firsthand, seemed skeptical. However, before anyone could argue, the ground rumbled. The enemy mech had returned. Seed perked up, breath hitching, and the form of Seed Senior immediately appeared around her. She scooped up Orpheus, with Captain Magus securely wrapping themself around one of Seed Senior’s arm, and Miyabi climbed onto her back.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Captain Magus said, quietly, to Miyabi, as Seed blasted through the rotten wood of the barn.

The mech threw a wave of snow upwards, helping to hide their form from the enemy, and immediately flew towards the rift. Bullets sprayed past and around them, barely missing Orpheus. Captain Magus, with a growl, unhinged its jaw and in a moment fired a laser blast of its own. Now that it was anchored to Seed Senior, it seemed it didn’t have to hold back. The captain held the laser fire, slowly increasing the potency, until the enemy mech launched itself into the air to avoid it.

Only now, when it landed right behind the group, did Miyabi get her first proper look at the machine. It was easily four times larger than Seed Senior, made of black steel, with red glass protecting the cockpit made for two pilots. The large legs and feet were more like supports that dug into and anchored it to the ground. The machine lacked arms; instead, two bulky pods that seemed to house different forms of weaponry had been welded to the sides. It leaned forward, falling forward onto these two, and revealing several dozen rocket pods. Worst of all, she could see the source of the laser. Now that the mech was almost lying, the thiren could see a large tube attached to its back, with several thick cables connecting somewhere lower. The front began to glow and build up, much like Captain Magus’s own attacks, before firing.

“Void Hunter!” Captain Magus warned.

Miyabi wielded her sword in both hands, gritting her teeth and focused. Tailless, so well attuned to her needs and her body, responded immediately. The blade sparked to life, literally, as blue flames burst across the steel. Three dozen missiles fired out of the pods, followed shortly by a laser blast almost as large as Seed Senior’s chassis. The Void Hunter inhaled sharply, still standing on the mech, and swung her blade.

The laser hit her sword directly. She grunted, struggling to keep her grip, as Tailless did its best to absorb the energy. Her feet shifted back three inches before she felt the metallic body of Captain Magus wrap around her waist, its head pressing against her back, grunting to hold her upright. Miyabi slowly, painfully, twisted her blade, reflecting the laser off of it. It cut a new line into the snow, across the missiles chasing them, which exploded into a morbidly beautiful firework show, and then finally back to its own. The enemy mech stopped fire as Miyabi’s deflection blasted off one of the weapon pods, sending the giant machine falling backwards from the force alone, and before anyone could register whether the pilots were dead or alive, the group flew through the rift, out of the snow, and back towards Trigger.

Seed, usually so composed, yelled in surprise as her mech flew at too much speed. Miyabi grabbed Orpheus, Captain Magus still wrapped around her, and jumped off. She landed painfully, trying to absorb the brunt of the impact, rolling several times before they came to a sudden stop, and the world went dark.

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The Choice of the Night Orchid (BG3)

A Baldur's Gate 3 one-shot! Featuring Shadowheart x Tav.

Chapter 1: The Right Choice

Main Characters: Shadowheart, Tav

Mentioned: Dame Aylin, Wyll, Karlach, Shar, Selune

Thanks for reading!

They had been traveling together long enough. Shadowheart, perhaps more than anyone, had grown the closest to Sol. A match for the Seven Hells, Sol often thought. A selfish and secretive Sharran with a paladin who fashioned herself a hero of all that was good and right. Yet, the tadpoles in their skulls had brought them together, revealed secrets neither wanted revealed, and before they knew it, the bond was knit.

A bond that was now being put to the test.

“Shadowheart!” Sol shouted, keeping her grip tight, but her sword lowered. The Sharran, her friend, was holding the Spear of Night against another paladin. A poor soul trapped for years in this dark magik. Dame Aylin.

She looked over her shoulder at Sol, frowning, maintaining that defiantly faithful mask to her queen of darkness. Sol knew her well enough to see the doubt etched on her skin, the twitching of the pointy ears, the too-tight grip on the spear, and the hitch of her breath.

Perhaps it was the paladin’s fault. She helped her friend during the trials, being off-handed about their differing views, and then outright ignoring the more problematic aspects of their adventures. The ruthlessness Shadowheart clearly forced during combat and speech. Not pushing hard enough when she had moral conflicts or something to talk about. Sol told herself their survival was more important. In reality, she was afraid. Now, Shadowheart might not listen.

“Nothing matters now,” the half-elf spoke, her voice barely a whisper, hands grasping the blackened spear until her knuckles turned white. “Not after I become who I am meant to be.”

She had already said that before. She was steeling herself for the kill. Sol could feel the hesitation being replaced with fear and anger, could see the tension in Dame Aylin’s posture, realizing what was about to happen.

No.

Shadowheart stepped forward, prepared to thrust her spear, only to grunt in shock as the tip collided with a large, gold-encrusted, steel shield. The symbol of Selune glowed on it, briefly, as Sols' brown eyes poked from behind. The paladin blew a stray curl from her face.

“I cannot allow you to kill someone who has suffered so much, for no good reason,” Sol declared. “You are better than this, Shadowheart.”

Her eyes widened in shock and betrayal, making the human’s own chest ache in anxiety and regret. “You dare to stop me? At the crux of my journey? After everything we have been through?”

“It is because of everything we’ve been through that I cannot, Shadowheart,” Sol snapped back, tossing her shield aside and gripping her long sword in two hands. The action was a warning in itself: The paladin would not hold back.

“You’ve allowed the moon witch into your heart,” her friend spits back, raising her own spear and shield. “Her light poisons your mind, empowers you to stop me; she is making you betray me!”

Sols jaw clenched, closing her eyes and exhaling deeply, shaking her head. “No, my friend. I hold no faith in Selune or Shar. My faith is in those around me. In you, in our friends, and in our bond. We do have a bond.”

Her face softens, for but a moment, and her eyes turn desperate. “Please, don’t do this.”

Unfortunately, their bond was not as strong as it could be. Shadowheart practically growled, stepping forward and thrusting the spear. Sol, unable to leave Dame Aylin vulnerable, parries the blow, stepping forward and pushing Shadowheart back with an armored shoulder.

“Shadowheart, stop this!” Wyll yelled, wielding his own rapier, which glowed with the power of his patron. It was Karlach who grabbed his shoulder, shaking her head in a silent no, as she watched on with a mournful expression.

No one would interrupt for either side. This outcome was now between Sol and Shadowheart.

Once again, their weapons clashed, sword blade against metal spear, making sparks fly. Shadowheart’s eyes glowed green, the glow spreading down to her spear, as she slashed upwards suddenly. Sol hissed in pain as a bloody cut formed across her cheek and temple, alongside the sudden sensation of weakness. The cleric narrowed her eyes at Sol, and a moment later the magik struck: A terrible feeling of death, literally draining her life force, and forcing the paladin to a knee.

“No holding back,” Sol wheezed, pressing a hand to his chest. With a quick word in her people’s tongue, ‘relevo’, the feeling dissipated. A golden glow spread from her arm, and she stood again. Healed. “I’m hurt, Night Orchid.”

“Do not call me that!” She commanded, thrusting again. This time, Sol sidestepped it, slashing downwards to send the tip into the ground, and sliding her blade up the shaft in a flurry of sparks that forced Shadowheart to drop the weapon.

“I will not hurt you, Shadowheart,” she declared, standing tall. “If you want to become a Dark Justiciar, you will have to kill me, too.”

She snarled, raising her free hand towards Sol. Instead of targeting, the green power flashed in her eyes, and then in the undead corpses around Sol. The paladin had seen this spell enough times to recognize it.

“Dame Aylin, turn!” She yelled, rolling heavily to grab her shield again, then turning to face the glowing bodies. Not a moment later did they burst in deadly explosions of meat, bone, and blood, the magic turning the bodies into deadly projectiles. There was a sting somewhere in Sol’s arm.

Before she could act, Shadowheart lifted both hands, chanting in the magikal language of Faerun. Green smoke poured from her mouth and fingertips, into the remaining skeletons, bringing them back to life. Sol could only watch as half a dozen rose from the ground, bones snapping into place, jaws clacking eagerly, grabbing anything they could find as weapons.

“Fique em paz!” Sol yelled, extending her sword to the undead. The weapon shone gold, and the skeletons hissed in fear or disgust, retreating immediately.

So far, the two were at an impasse. Sol could counter anything Shadowheart threw at her. The two of them knew it.

“Why would you turn on me at the end?!” Shadowheart screamed, her voice shrill, yanking the spear out of the ground and charging again. Her moves were more aggressive than Sol was used to witnessing, shield and weapon pounding against her shield and armor.

The paladin raised the shield and arm, simply bearing the attacks like a punching bag. “You’ve never tried to be a murderer before me!” She yelled back, tilting her head to avoid a blow from the shield. “You’ve always defaulted to good. Even when you feigned reluctance.”

Sol inhales sharply, steeling herself, and mutters another incantation. Her golden light reflects on Dame Aylin’s skin, who is watching with gritted teeth. The paladin side steps, letting her friend stumble forward to the aasimar. Shadowheart’s eyes widen and, in desperation, she thrusts.

Both Selunite and Sharran watch, with surprise, as the spear tip clangs off Dame Aylin’s skin. For a moment, they stare at each other, breathing hard. Then Shadowheart turns to Sol, fuming.

“Sanctuary,” Sol answered without being prompted, wiping her brow and tossing her shield aside again. “So long as I do not hurt you,” she explained calmly. “You cannot hurt her. The enchantment will remain.”

“I will simply break it from you,” the half-elf declared, narrowing her eyes. “You think I cannot?”

“I think you can,” the paladin replies softly. Then she shocks Shadowheart by throwing her sword aside. “So, I give you Shar’s test. Everything you want is right here, Night Orchid.” She pats her chest, smiling tightly. “Kill me. No more leaving it to chance or tearing each other apart. Kill me, lift the spell, and take your prize.”

“No,” she snaps back, recoiling. “The test is with the Selunite. The daughter of the Moon Maiden! I don’t have to kill you.”

Sol drops to her knees, letting her arms hang. She shrugs. “Not anymore. I am her shield, yet I will not kill you. This is your test now.”

The cleric seems horrified as the implication settles. Sol’s spell will remain unbreakable. She has hijacked the trial. Her head turns to Wyll and Karlach, the former looking angry and the latter simply sad, then back to Sol. No one would stop her. All she had to do was kill Sol.

“You think me weak,” Shadowheart hissed, throwing her shield aside and lifting the spear in two hands, above Sol’s body. “You think me a coward. You think I cannot do this. Kill you? I’ve always been willing to kill.”

“You are strong,” Sol adds softly, smiling and lifting her arms harmlessly. “Maybe the strongest woman I know. You have changed my world for the better, Shadowheart.”

‘Shut up-”

“I would not have made it this far without you,” she continued, ignoring the half-elf’s pleas. “I would not remain myself; I would have broken my oath. You kept me sane. You kept me strong.”

“I said silence!” Shadowheart screamed, her voice trembling. “You don’t know what I’ve done, what I’ve been through!”

“I know you favor wine over any other drink,” Sol answered softly, her smile growing sincere and downright enchanted. “I know your favorite flower is the Night Orchid, my nickname for you. I know you linger at the edges of the party, swaying to the music, embarrassed. I know you enjoy control in our most private moments, to teach me the pleasures I do not know, and see me fall for you like my own goddess.”

“Stop it, please-”

“I know you fear wolves and the dark you claim to worship,” she continued, ignoring her companion’s pleas. “I know when you’re asleep, you crawl as close to me as you can, and after each battle, I’m the first warrior you check on. I know you care so deeply, so purely, and, by the gods, I wish you weren’t ashamed of such tenderness.”

“I’m warning you,” she yelled again, stepping closer, raising the spear all the way up.

“I know you’re scared of change,” she whispered, closing her eyes. “And that I love you, my Night Orchid.”

She breaks. Someone, perhaps Wyll, yells ‘No!’ and Shadowheart lets out a wretched scream that tears Sol’s heart apart. There is a flickering thought from the paladin, how much she regrets hurting this friend of hers, and then the spear strikes.

For a moment, there is nothing but silence. Then Sol opens her eyes. Shadowheart is looming over her, inches apart, and the spear shaft is beside the human’s head. Sol’s eyes follow the shaft, looking over to see the ground right behind her, where the tip has snapped from the shaft from Shadowheart’s attack.

Relief.

The half-elf pants harshly, eyes wide with shock, and then the corners of her eyes well with tears. She releases the broken spear and falls to her knees, wrapping her arms around Sol and sobbing.

“It’s okay,” Sol whispers, pressing her face into the cleric’s neck and inhaling deeply, her own powerful arms enveloping her lover. “I’m still here. You did not hurt me, Shadowheart.”

“I’m so sorry,” she croaks, throat raw, before cupping Sol’s cheeks and kissing her roughly. “I’m so sorry.”

But Sol was elated, relieved, and feeling so, so proud.

Her Night Orchid hadn’t chosen darkness after all. She hadn’t even chosen light.

She’d chosen love.

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Rifts of the World (Chapter 3)

A Zenless Zone Zero original story!

To start from the beginning, click here for chapter 1!

Chapter 3: Getting the Band Back Together

Main Characters: Hoshimi Miyabi, Trigger Supporting Cast: Seed, Tsukishiro Yanagi, Soukaku, Asaba Harumasa

Thanks for reading!

To Miyabi’s (pleasant) surprise, Trigger was a seamless addition to the squad. Or rather, Trigger was a skilled match for the Void Hunter herself. Miyabi couldn’t help but think about all the training Section 6 had endured to become a cohesive fighting unit. Not to mention the time needed to develop the trust and understanding necessary to get where they are today.

Trigger was different. You didn’t have to know how to work with her for her to work with you. As the group traveled through the Hollow, her protection was ever-present. Sometimes she was dozens of feet behind you and laid out on the ground, electric bullets tearing through enemies you could not see. Other times, she was up close, dodging her own attackers while still finding both the time and angle to kill that one Ethereal charging you. She was similar to Harumasa, with her range and electrical weaponry, except Harumasa was a fighter. Trigger? She was a guardian.

For Miyabi, who could leap ahead at a moment's notice, or had to face threats no one else could, suddenly having someone with the sole objective of protecting her and the skill to do it was...refreshing.

The four of them were led by Trigger to an old plaza. The space was relatively open and cleared, with cracked stone pathways and a dried-up fountain in the middle, but no rubble or Ether crystals to impede them moving forward...or any enemies that may follow.

“This is it.” Trigger’s voice was quiet, her rifle up against her shoulder as she walked toward the fountain, spinning in a lazy circle as she took in the area. “My sensors aren’t good around it. It should be some sort of...blotch above the fountain. Does anyone see it?”

“Oh, we see it alright,” Harumasa replied, eyes widening in disbelief. Everyone else followed his gaze with similar expressions of shock.

Floating right above the fountain was a type of fissure, except instead of being completely invisible, it looked like a living, shifting crack in the air, one which lacked any light or color and seemed to stain reality with dark ink.

“That looks like a black hole,” Soukaku offered in awe. Miyabi realized it was a literal statement. Her young companion was right: The rift seemed to tug at her, trying to suck her in, but far too weak to do more than maintain an eerie pressure.

Yanagi spoke next, putting a hand on Soukaku’s shoulder and frowning. “I’m not sure it is safe to enter that...rift. Everything about it seems to be a warning. We should reach out for a science team.”

“I’m going in.” Trigger turned around, pointing her rifle upwards in a casual stance. Her voice, however, was steel. “My team is in there. I’m not going to leave them. You were sent to help, but if you can’t find the courage, I will go alone.”

Miyabi’s voice cut through the group, sharp as her blade, and unusually harsh. “No. You will not go in alone.” She turned around, facing the three members of her team. “If it were any of you or myself, I believe we would risk anything to save each other. I will do the same for her comrades.”

“Miyabi…” Yanagi frowned, her brow creasing in worry. She sighed, closing her eyes and nodding. “Of course, we understand. This is our mission. Trigger, forgive me. I never meant to say we wouldn’t help them.”

Harumasa stepped forward, strangely serious. “What are your orders, chief?”

Miyabi struggled with emotions. However, this time she felt something familiar: Pride and love. A feeling she had discovered and become accustomed to after years with her beloved teammates. She smiled, just barely, and returned Yanagi’s nod.

“You three will protect the opening of the rift.” She looked over the plaza. “My instincts tell me trouble will come here. Your signal will also give us a way home. Trigger and I will proceed inside and find her teammates. I will take our Bangboo to document everything we see and face.”

Soukaku perked up, reaching behind herself to unsling the bag she was carrying. She unzipped it, pulling out the Section 6 standard Bangboo, Agent Gulliver. Miyabi continued as it booted up.

“Trigger, have these rifts ever closed? Or moved?”

She shook her head, staring at the dark crack in the air. “No, they don’t behave like regular fissures. This one has been here for at least eight hours. However, there are three rifts that we know of in Hollow Zero.” She stepped to the deputy chief, handing her a data card. “If this one did close, there is a chance we could exit the other two.”

“Let’s hope that doesn’t happen.” Yanagi took it, looking it over carefully. “Alright, chief. We will defend your exit.”

“Trigger, is the signal still strong?” Miyabi asked, turning to their newest ally.

“Yes, Lady Miyabi.”

“Let us be quick.”

Both women faced the rift with a moment's hesitation. As they gathered their courage, the Bangboo, now fully activated, pulled out its sidearm and joined them. Then Miyabi felt Soukaku’s small shape hug her legs from behind, pressing her face in the thirens side.

“Be careful, Miyabi.”

She took a moment to look down, red eyes softening as she ran her fingers through the girl’s white hair, and nodded. Yanagi gently pried her ward off the Void Hunter.

Without another word, both the Chief of Section 6 and the sniper of Obol Squad stepped forward. The familiar tingle of the fissure’s tear in space passed over her skin. Then, unlike fissures, Miyabi felt a sudden disorientation. Her heart and stomach jumped, similar to that feeling one got when a roller coaster dropped, and her head swam with nausea. A moment later, she was standing in a completely new area.

In the distance sat the building Isolde had called the Eiffel Tower. Strewn around it was a city far larger than New Eridu, with ancient buildings that lay in various states of crumbled ruin. A giant cathedral stood like a testament to the Old World, even more impressive than the steel tower. And over it all sat the soft glow of Ether.

“Oh,” Trigger gagged, swaying on her feet. The two lights on her visor turned red. Before Miyabi could speak, she turned away, leaning on her rifle and throwing up. The nausea must have been worse for her ‘eyes’, Miyabi assumed. After a minute, the soldier stood up, wiping her mouth sheepishly. “I’m alright. I’m set now.”

The fox thiren didn’t speak as she surveyed the area again. Even as ruins, it was huge. The buildings made the battlefield a dangerous labyrinth of narrow pathways, which would greatly hamper the sniper and her own movements.

“We will have to move carefully to avoid too much attention.” Miyabi gripped her hilt, glancing at Trigger. “Your rifle will not be as useful in these spaces. We should sneak to your teammate.”

The sniper lifted her wrist, tapping the device on it. “Maybe we don’t have to worry so much about navigating this. Can I link my system to your Bangboo?”

Agent Gulliver, who seemed unaffected by the transition of the rift, let out an approving bleep and waddled over to Trigger. She knelt, pulling a cable from a port on her wristband and plugging it into the little robot. The Bangboo’s visor went from eyes to a loading symbol.

“Take the map information and plot the safest route to Seed’s last known location,” she ordered. “As we get closer, we will either hear her fighting or be able to use short-range communications. Until then, we can stay hidden.”

It must be hard, she thought, to slow down and do things the right way when your people needed you. Miyabi herself was prone to taking action, trusting that her blade was strong enough and her training extensive enough to handle any situation. She had only suggested stealth for Trigger’s benefit and because they did not know where this Seed was.

“We will make this quick,” she promised, taking a deep breath. “Trust that I will guide you through these streets safely, and get both you and your squad out of here.”

“Thank you, Lady Miyabi,” she replied, standing back up and letting the cable slip back to her wrist. She lifted her rifle and stepped to the edge of the building. “Trust that I will have your back.”

No other words were needed.

Once again, they were on the move. For the sake of stealth, Miyabi led them through the cluttered roads of the old city. For now, thankfully, it was devoid of Ethereals. Yet the way everything seemed so human, yet so foreign, did little to comfort the thiren. The street and business signs were in a language, a script, she did not recognize. The vehicles looked nothing like what the old tapes showed. Signs of combat, perhaps centuries old, dotted the landscape. A crater down one street, the missing side of a building with skeletons hanging on the opening, and armored vehicles with large gun barrels that seemed so impractical compared to today’s mechs.

“Lady Miyabi,” Trigger whispered, giving the warrior pause. She looked over, and the sniper was already peering through her scope and around a corner. “Seed’s left a clue, I think. Down the street at my one o’clock.”

Carefully, she slipped across the street to the other wall and pressed herself against it, ears twitching as she peeked over. There on the sidewalk, just where the sniper had said, was what appeared to be a terminal made of scrap. It sparked and flickered with light but hadn’t yet succumbed to the destructive nature of the Hollow. She stepped forward.

Trigger clicked the safety off on her gun, her voice a quiet command. “Wait.”

The sniper carefully scanned the road before them, her thin lips pursed in a frown. She didn’t have to speak to express that something felt wrong. Miyabi shifted back behind the wall, narrowing her eyes and looking for anything out of the ordinary. The street was narrow, paved like the roads of Eridu, with rusting lampposts every twenty feet. A few vehicles dotted the space before them, and one crashed into a building on the left. Above them was clear skies, cracked windows, and-

“There,” Miyabi said, nodding upwards. “Seventy degrees to your left, third building down, five floors upwards.”

Trigger did not hesitate. With expert precision, she brought her rifle to bear and fired. The crack of the rifle seemed deafening in the eerie silence. The bullet tore through a curtain that seemed to be swaying in the wind. Agent Gulliver, standing by Miyabi’s feet, tilted its head in confusion and looked between the two women.

“Eh, nah?” It questioned, confused. Both of them waited silently.

Miyabi’s thumb pushed her sword one inch out of its sheath. Her grip tightened.

There was no wind in this Hollow. Certainly not between all these buildings acting as barriers. The Void Hunter had flinched when Trigger fired so suddenly, but both their instincts had been on point. Ten seconds after being shot, the curtain shimmered, then dissolved into etheric goop. A moment later, half the items on the road began to shimmer.

The lampposts.

The ancient shells of vehicles.

Even a skeleton.

Before their eyes, all these items morphed into shimmering blobs of ether, then began to grow into the more recognizable forms of Ethereals. Nothing they had ever seen in New Eridu, no, these could barely hold their physical form. They formed bodies that seemed to ooze and drip etheric matter to the ground, which then was reabsorbed back into them. Their core, glowing dully, was in the center of their mass behind a constantly falling curtain of goop.

“Unrecognized category of Ethereal confirmed,” Trigger said. Her finger twitched, and another Bang! rang through the street. The bullet soared through several targets before landing a direct hit on the furthest one, shattering its core. The monster screamed, a terrible sound like nails on glass, and the goop fell into a colorless puddle. “Weakness also confirmed: Lady Miyabi, hit the cores.”

“Roger.” Miyabi bent down slightly, glancing up at her opponents. She inhaled deeply. A moment later, she was off, blue flames licking the floor after each step. With barely a grunt, she flashed through the first Ethereal, then slid and sliced the second, and then a third. She jumped back to avoid an attack, and the crack of Trigger’s weapon sounded behind her, taking it down.

They really were just Ethereals.

Encouraged, the Void Hunter took position again and sprinted forward. She hardly noticed the carefully fired bullets of her companion. She could only feel the excitement radiating from Tailless as she cut loose, a whirlwind of steel and foxfire tearing through the street, until she reached the improvised terminal.

With a soft exhale, she sheathed her blade again, as she had done a million times before. Her red eyes, cold as ice, peered over her shoulder. For the first time in these million times, her eyes widened with surprise and her heart skipped a beat.

Not even five seconds after their victory- what she had thought was their victory- the etheric goop was already glowing and shifting. Slowly, the goop was picking itself up, reforming unsteady legs and arms, making a torso that leaked down itself, until the space in the middle formed a new core, shining and bright.

The Ethereal in the middle roared, the sound shattering windows and making the floor rumble, and Miyabi felt the small seed of fear sprout in her stomach.

“Lady Miyabi, retreat!” Trigger yelled. In the span of two seconds, three cracks sounded out, and the three Ethereals closest to Miyabi fell once again. Her eyes flickered upward, watching as those closest to Trigger rushed her. She’d ignored them to give the thiren a few more precious seconds to react.

“No,” Miyabi whispered. “Victory...”

With her back still to the enemy, she lifted her sheath, closing her eyes and gripping the hilt again. She took three seconds to focus, delving deep into her connection with Tailless. It was a dangerous moment; every time she did this, she could feel its bloodlust surge forth. The cursed blade had a thirst to be freed from its special sheath, to take over another wielder and destroy everything in its path.

However, between her training and the specialized nature of her sheath, Miyabi pushed those thoughts out of her mind, as she did every time. She would only slay evil. Luckily for her, that was all this street held.

She exhaled, opening her eyes. “...is the only option.”

Faster than a sniper’s bullet, she crossed the length of the street back to Trigger. Faster than the human or thiren eye could follow, she slashed her blade in dozens of practiced cuts all around her, the light of its blue flames thin and almost neon. She paused right in front of Trigger, who was breathing hard and staring down at the fox in shock.

Another second passed, and the blue lines flared. Cuts more precise than any sword master could ever hope to achieve appeared on the Ethereals bodies. The foxfire flared to life on each wound. With gurgling sounds, the monsters began to slide into dozens of pieces, each one of them, and return to goop on the ground.

“So, that’s the power of a Void Hunter,” Trigger murmured, the lights on her visor a flustered pink. “We should go before they reform.”

Miyabi looked over at the goop covering most of the street and the nearby walls. She shook her head. “They will not return. This time, they are dead.”

“How can you be sure?” She asked, kneeling next to a puddle and looking over it. “Nothing seems to have changed with their bodies.”

The truth? She had let Tailless take charge of the blows. It didn’t make sense, but the blade’s thirst for death meant it could often take on new enemies with little issue. So far, the etheric remains hadn’t stirred, so it must have done its job.

“I can’t explain,” Miyabi said carefully. “But, at least for now, it is handled.”

Before the two could pause to discuss or examine Miyabi’s handiwork, another voice cut through the conversation. It was a young woman, her voice dreamy or teasing, it was hard to tell, and coming from Trigger’s earpiece.

“Oh! That really is a special sword! I can see it from here.”

“Seed?” Trigger stood up, looking around immediately. “Seed, come in. Can you see us? Where are you?”

“Right here.”

Miyabi sensed it a moment before it appeared. She turned around, prompting Trigger to do the same, and a moment later, a mech over twice her size materialized from thin air. The olive colored vest over its bulky metal chest had the word “Seed” printed on it. A moment later, it flickered out of existence as a barefoot, worryingly pale, skinny, and pale blue-haired person stepped down onto the ground. She groaned, stretching her arms above her head as if she had been confined for quite a while, and then she smiled from ear to ear.

“Could I take a closer look?”

[neppyshub]

Rifts of the World (Chapter 2)

A Zenless Zone Original Story!

For a better description, read chapter 1 and the story summary here.

Chapter 2: Into the Abyss

Main Characters: Hoshimi Miyabi, Trigger Supporting Cast: Tsukishiro Yanagi, Soukaku, Asaba Harumasa

Thanks for reading!

Chapter 2: Into the Abyss

Miyabi could tell her companions didn’t feel confident about this assignment. She wasn’t the brightest when it came to interpreting social cues, interactions, or even recognizing when others expressed their feelings. She knew it. She dedicated a considerable amount of time to ‘conversation training.’

She didn’t need any training to see their worry. Harumasa was clearly handling Soukaku, using his usual and non-serious personality to keep the Oni entertained, while eyeing the chief and her deputy, Yanagi. For her part, Yanagi had been sticking close to the fox Thiren, clearly trying to speak.

But Miyabi wasn’t the brightest in conversation. She knew it. What she was excellent at was the sword. If her team felt unsafe on this mission, with lives on the line, they probably had good reason to. She would soothe their worries with the fury of her blade.

Yanagi didn’t get her chance to speak, not yet, because the Chief of Hollow Special Operations Section 6, Hoshimi Miyabi, sprang ahead by herself. With her sword, Tailless, in hand, she searched for the enemy along their pre-planned route, single-handedly cutting Ethereals to bits. Every alleyway, town square, or ruined building had a blue streak of destruction zipping through it. Roars were silenced halfway, blasts of ether dodged before they could travel halfway to their target. They weren’t so deep in Hollow Zero that she, or any of her team, for that matter, couldn’t handle themselves. Each time her team caught up safely, she bound off again, spreading destruction to the creatures of the Hollow and guiding her people forward.

A moment later, she realized her mistake when her three companions caught up, panting and sweating. Harumasa, in particular, was leaning on his bow like a walking aid, panting heavily.

“Chief,” Yanagi said, forcing composure upon herself, standing straighter and exhaling softly. “You need to slow down. We can’t- can’t keep up with your pace. Even worse, you will be burnt out if we do run into real trouble.”

Her fox ears twitched, a sign of nervousness that betrayed her stoic face. “Apologies, everyone.” She turned away, staring out at the apocalyptic vista. Crumbling skyscrapers and cracked roads, destroyed vehicles and glowing ether crystals. A maze of death holding a new secret. A new threat.

Yanagi stepped forward, gently taking Miyabi’s shoulder, her brow furrowed in concern. “What’s wrong, Chief?”

“I’m...not sure,” she replied, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. She did trust these three. With her life, even. But in moments like these, she had to remind herself to show it. To give them the trust they had all earned. Miyabi turns around, meeting their worried gazes. “The revelation of the rifts, the potential for chaos, it has me...worried.”

“I think we’re all worried, chief,” Harumasa chirped, patting his chest and standing tall again. He waved his arms to the group. “I mean, we all understand how this could change things. For better or worse.”

“For...better?” Miyabi’s question came unsurely, red eyes staring blankly at the archer.

It was Soukaku who spoke up, grinning. “Yeah! What if- What if there are other people? Other cities? With their own foods and games and-”

“What Soukaku means,” Yanagi cut in, putting a hand on the child’s shoulder, smiling at her ward. “Is that we all know anything could be out there. It will change things. It can be scary, but...it could be good.”

Good. The thought hadn’t occurred to Miyabi. She had imagined any number of destructive scenes: Ethereals pouring out of rifts from beyond the dark wall, new and more powerful variants such as the miasmic enemies of the Lemnian Hollow, enemy armies from city states that shouldn’t exist, rebel cells that had found the rifts first and used them to make hidden bases and were just waiting to attack New Eridu and kill anyone that dare search for them. Things that, no matter how much she trained, could take her by surprise. Unknown quantities. Scary scenarios.

Her lip twitched. Was she scared?

“Miyabi,” Yanagi said softly, looking down at the thiren and squeezing her shoulder. “We can handle this. But we have a better chance if we stand together. You don’t have to worry about what’s coming next.”

“You...are right,” Miyabi murmured, eyes flickering over the three of them. She felt her shoulders relax a fraction, and a shy smile appeared on her face. “Whatever it is, we can handle it.”

Her reflection was greeted with three equally relieved and amused expressions. Soukaku was grinning ear-to-ear, Harumasa visibly relaxed, and Yanagi smiled reassuringly, nodding in agreement.

Boom!

The moment, so lighthearted and reassuring, lasted all of three seconds before an explosion rocked the ground. Miyabi’s hand immediately gripped her sword hilt, turning around to scan the horizon while her fellows stumbled. In the distance, she could see it. A plume of smoke rising into the sky, coming from the open side of a skyscraper.

“Yanagi,” Miyabi barked, not bothering to turn around.

“I understand. Go.”

The Void Hunter was off in an instant. Her feet left the ground the moment her deputy gave acknowledgment with speed that could only come from years of training and the agility of her animal heritage. The Ethereals in the way were of no concern: She raced past them trusting her teammates to navigate the path safely or take them out as needed. Her only goal was that explosion because it meant someone else was there. It was either a well-armed enemy or, more likely, a member of Obol Squad.

With a slash of her blade, she tore through three Alpecas, what passed as typical fodder for these monsters, in a blink, using the energy from her blow to launch her forward. Her feet landed against the side of the building, and with a grunt, Miyabi was running up the wall, keeping her momentum strong and swift so as not to fall off. Things weren’t allowed to be simple, however, as several Blastcrawlers hurled themselves or fell off the upper floors. Ball-like critters with spindly legs that enjoyed exploding. They glowed red and seemed to pulse with energy, ready to blow.

Inhaling deeply to refocus her thoughts and calm her heart, Miyabi unsheathed her blade and refused to slow down. She slid down, under the first Blastcrawler, allowing it to fall past her and exploding harmlessly somewhere below. The second was clearly more charged up and would explode beside her, so Miyabi continued her run, pulled her blade back and focused, feeling the energy within her, the rhythm that guided her element, Foxfire. With one swing, an arc of blue fire shot out from the blade, cutting right through her enemy. Both halves of the creature fell past her harmlessly. The third was too close and impossible to dodge, but she had already accounted for that. The fox thiren sheathed her blade once more and lifted her metal arm, gripping onto the creature as it fell past her. She kicked off the wall, spinning them both, until she was upright and facing the wall. Then, she kicked off of it with all her might. The Ethereal exploded and the blast sent Miyabi flying upwards without much damage or worry. She sailed through the air, wind whipping her cloak and ears, about to overshoot the floor where the explosion happened.

A flick of her wrist had her blade out one more time. It glowed with blue flames, easily penetrating the stone of the building and acting as a sudden anchor. With a twist of her body she flipped once in the air, pulling herself into the open floor of the damaged structure, and landing into a crouch with her sword in hand.

Miyabi inhaled slowly, slid her blade into its sheath, and then exhaled.

She looked up to take in the situation. The building itself was an old parking garage, a small part of the overall skyscraper and relatively close to the ground, with rusted cars and crystallized ether growing out of the walls. Faded paint on the floor directed her towards the next level with an arrow and a large L3. There were no Ethereals here, but the signs of combat were everywhere: Flickering flames, bullet holes in the walls, and the last remnants of enemies fading back into the ether.

Her ears straightened as more gunshots rang from somewhere above her. The sound was heavy and piercing, definitely a large caliber gun, and given the person’s continued survival, they were either lucky or trained. Likely, the latter, Miyabi assumed.

She jogged ahead, going up the path onto level three and then continuing straight ahead until she hit a staircase. She bounded up the railings, avoiding the steps entirely as she jumped back and forth from rail to rail, until she arrived where the gunfire was loudest.

There was a final door, metal and barely hanging on its hinges, which she immediately slammed her heel into. It went flying, and Miyabi walked on through, scanning the room with burning determination. At first, she saw nothing and was about to climb to the next floor. Then something moved in her periphery. She swung her blade immediately, seeing another Blastcrawler inches from her, and for a moment, the voice in the back of her head said Too late.

Then a blast sounded behind the monster. A bullet sizzling with blue electrical currents pierced the enemy, flying right by Miyabi’s head, and turning the beast to etheric ash immediately. Her red eyes glanced up to see the shooter: A very skinny woman with pale skin, dressed in orange and black, with platinum blonde hair tied into a short ponytail. Definitely a member of the military. Miyabi took three seconds to understand the situation: The soldier was surrounded by basic Ethereals, Aplecas, Blastcrawlers, and Fauns. She used incredible dexterity to jump, twist, spin, and slide around the creatures, firing with a sniper rifle even in close quarters. It occurred to Miyabi that this soldier had spotted her being ambushed and protected her while literally dancing around a mob.

Time to return the favor.

The Void Hunter dashed into the fray, understanding the situation in full, and gritting her teeth as she joined the soldier. It was no contest. The two of them seemed oddly well paired. With more breathing room, the sniper stayed out of range of the Thiren and the Ethereals. Anytime Miyabi gave her back to an enemy, stunned an enemy, or even made them stumble, there was a bullet taking advantage of their confusion or hesitation, and no matter how she moved, there was never a risk of getting shot herself. The two were a tornado of electric and fiery blue, weaving around each other to shoot and cut every monster down.

Minutes later, the battle was done. She sheathed her blade once more, standing tall, and exhaled softly. All around them, the monsters were turning into etheric ash, which itself was quickly disappearing.

“Please identify yourself,” Miyabi said, turning around to face the sniper. She made no attempt to threaten the other, but her hand did not leave the hilt of her blade.

Up close, she could see the details of the woman she’d saved. She wore orange and black sneakers with thick rubber soles, skintight latex pants that rose to a nearly bare and incredibly slender waist. Two straps crossed her torso in a X, most likely to help keep her vest on. The vest only covered her chest and had small pockets and ammunition pouches attached to it. Lastly, the soldier wore a puffy top that only covered her neck, shoulders, and arms down to the elbow, tapering off into more skintight latex and fingerless gloves.

The strangest part was her face plate. It was a smooth metal covering her eyes and the space around them, and had two tiny light indicators underneath where each one would be. Currently, they glowed a soft blue.

The sniper looked over Miyabi for a moment, noting the way she held her blade, and kept still. “Trigger. Sniper for Obol Squad, yes. I take it they sent you after us?”

“Correct.” Miyabi nodded, loosening the grip on her blade. “My team is securing the area around us and will soon join. What can you tell me about the situation?”

Trigger walked over to the edge of the building, staring out over the city, and hummed. “I see them. They’re heading here as we speak. Good, we can’t waste any time.”

“Please, explain.” Miyabi joined her, frowning imperceptibly. She couldn’t see her squad at all.

“My team all fell through different rifts.” Trigger’s voice was severe. The grip on her rifle tightened painfully. Both women shared a look. “I made it back by pure luck. If we don’t find a way to get carrot data to help rescue them, then they’ll be stuck forever, and each moment we waste means they could be fighting any number of new enemies.”

She turned around and began to walk away, towards the staircase, leaving Miyabi with this information. The fox thiren thought for a few moments, then spoke.

“What do you mean by new enemies?”

“The rifts are spawning Ethereals we have never seen before,” Trigger replied, looking over her shoulder. “An army of new soldiers that is threatening to pour out into Hollow Zero and New Eridu.”

Miyabi’s fears had become prophetic. This was exactly what she worried about. And now she had to expose her own team to these dangers.

“You’re right,” she agreed, throat tight, and walking over to the sniper’s side. “We have no time to waste.”

[neppyshub]

Okay, but we can talk about how when I FINALLY download a different gacha game (Wuthering Waves) because I've been off ZZZ forever, I suddenly get obsessed with Zenless again.

I'm playing it. I'm streaming it. I'm writing it. I'm joining the discord server I'm on. The whole nine yards.

Curse you, ADHD with random hyperfixations.

[neppyshub]

Rifts of the World

A Zenless Zone Zero original story!

The New Eridu Defense Force has discovered Rifts: A new phenomenon in Hollow Zero that will surely change the world. With Obol Squad missing, it is up to the members of Section 6 to enter the Hollow, rescue the soldiers, and discover the dangers that await them in the Rift. Major Characters: Hoshimi Miyabi, Soldier 11, Trigger. Minor Characters: Tsukishiro Yanagi, Soukaku, Seed, Orphie, Asaba Harumasa.

Rated: Teen & Up Audiences. TW: Graphic Depictions of Violence. AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/84375141/chapters/222554636

Chapter 1: Unlikely Alliance

“I don’t know. I don’t like this,” Harumasa, the archer, mumbled. His voice was unusually serious as the elevator, illuminated by one weak light and made of bleak, dark metal, descended. “When was the last time we worked with HIA? When you met Belle?”

“Yes.” Miyabi, the youngest void hunter in history, arguably the strongest fighter in New Eridu, and the most awkward talker ever, replied. “Quite a while ago, now. Really, I was hunting Nineveh, and didn’t see much of the soldiers.”

Harumasa nodded, crossing his arms. “Exactly my point. If they’re asking for our help, then doesn’t that mean we’re facing something just as bad? If not worse?”

Miyabi was often oblivious to the social cues of the world. However, she wasn’t heartless, and she knew her team. Her red eyes turned to the archer, softer than usual. She put a hand on his elbow, as she’d often seen Yanagi do when calming others, and squeezed ever so slightly.

“We will handle it.”

It worked. Harumasa seemed to relax a fraction, even if he also seemed slightly confused by Miyabi’s suddenly tender act. The fox thiren’s ears twitched slightly, a hint of pride in her thoughts.

Social interaction training had paid off.

The elevator finally came to a stop after what felt like forever. The metal doors slid open to reveal a long, dimly lit hallway, with LED lights built into the roof every few feet and white paint on the walls indicating the locations of certain rooms.

Harumasa sighed. “Alright, let’s see why they brought us all the way here.”

It didn’t take much longer to reach the end of the hall and enter the conference room. Miyabi knew where to go; she’d been here once before when HIA had tried to recruit her personally, and it was much as she remembered: A large conference table sat in the middle of the room, going left to right, with around a dozen seats. Behind it, across from the entrance, was a large series of screens tucked tightly together into one large wall. Similar to the last time Miyabi was here, two people were waiting inside.

Commander Roland. A common face, given his command of Scott Outpost, and their history of working together. As usual, he had his uniform on, his hair combed neatly, and serious but alert eyes. Sitting beside him was someone the chief had never seen: A tall woman, taller than Roland, with soft green hair, wearing a heavy black dress that was clearly not standard issue. It had red accents and gold stitching at the hips, with slits to reveal the skin beneath.

Fashion did not make sense to the chief of Section 6.

“Chief Miyabi,” Roland said first, standing up and fixing his orange and yellow striped tie. “Officer Harumasa. Thank you for joining us. Please, sit.” Roland waved at the chairs and returned to his seat. He sighed, nodding to his companion. “This is Colonel Isolde. A peer of mine.”

“Good morning to you both,” the colonel followed, nodding gently. “We appreciate your timeliness.”

Miyabi didn’t hesitate to pull her seat out and join them, with her companion choosing to stand behind her like a guard. “My team agrees this meeting is very unusual. Please, tell us what has happened.”

“It isn’t exactly what has happened,” Roland admitted, putting his elbows on the table and clasping his hands together. “It is what could happen. There is a situation in the Hollows.”

“There’s always a situation in the Hollows,” Harumasa dramatically sighs, his voice taking on that laid-back, playful tone of his. “Come on, tell us what you need. We can handle it, after all.”

Both the commander and colonel shared an uneasy look. It was Isolde who spoke first.

“This is different than the usual issues,” she said. “This isn’t a powerful enemy, such as Nineveh, or a concentration of rebels, nor a threat to the Shiyu towers. This is something of an exploration issue.”

“Exploration?” Miyabi frowns, ever so slightly; to most it might be imperceptible. “I don’t believe the Defense Force has ever called upon Section 6 for simple exploration.”

“There’s no easy way to explain it,” Roland muttered, rubbing his forehead, frustrated. “Rifts are opening up in Hollow Zero. Not fissures. Rifts.”

“Commander,” Isolde chided, her voice as calm and collected as ever. “It isn’t like you to be impatient.”

He shrugged, looking downwards. “We have little time. This situation is delicate and needs to be handled quickly. We need Section 6 on this.”

“Commander Roland,” Miyabi’s voice had turned louder, firmer, and she gripped the hilt of her sword as she stood up. “We can handle this.”

Isolde and Roland shared another look. After a few minutes, he nodded, and she pulled out a remote, pressing a button. The screens behind the table flared to life, depicting a large map of Hollow Zero and marking five specific locations. The commander stood up, clearing his throat and waving an arm to the screens.

“This is our most recent data on the Hollow, used in the carrots of the last squad we sent out,” he explained. “Their mission was to explore these five points to investigate what we are now defining as Hollow rifts. Unlike fissures, we are small tears that can transport you between different parts of a Hollow, at a relatively short distance, and open and close often. The rifts function differently.”

“The squad, under my command, entered the first rift. They reported seeing buildings that shouldn’t exist within this region of the world. Sighs of the different nations, different continents, from the Old World.” She clicked another button, and the screen changed, revealing a blurry image of a tall, steel tower, the bottom curving upwards into a single point. “This was known, a long time ago, as the Eiffel Tower, in the continent of Europe. Even flying it should take several hours to reach, not to mention the Dark Wall.”

Roland continued, pointing at the screen as it changed again. “The Dark Wall is supposed to be impenetrable. To the best of our knowledge, the world beyond it is lost. However, the existence of the rifts, the discovery of the Eiffel Tower, tells us that it isn’t true. There is a world out there, even if it’s small pieces of land such as ours.”

“But…” Harumasa stared, wide-eyed, his usual aloofness replaced with shock. “That- that would mean there could be other people. Survivors of the Hollows. Even cities like New Eridu.”

“It would change everything,” Miyabi finished, staring unblinkingly at the screen.

The room turned silent as the soldiers let their guests absorb this world-changing information. It took the Void Hunter all of five seconds before her back straightened and her eyes hardened.

“What do you need us to do, Commander, Colonel?”

[cpericardium]

hey everyone "I" have something to show "you"

[cpericardium]

[cpericardium]

[neppyshub]

Like, bruh

[neppyshub]

Fairy Tale

Chapter 7, the final chapter, of my story for @casscainweek 2026! Story is focused on my OC, Sol, wrapping up the story going on around Cassandra during this week! AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/78390616/chapters/217485936#workskin Note: Thanks so much for reading! If you're into my writing my DC universe will continue with "Stray", a Catwoman-centered story, so please give me a follow to see when it's up!

It had been way too good to be true. She should’ve known. After all, when did anything go right in her life?

Sol sighed, sitting on the roof of Wayne Manor, staring at the sunset slowly sinking behind the Gotham skyline. The air was nice, a spring warmth fighting the coolness of the approaching night, and no one was here to bother her. Or maybe she didn’t want to bother them.

Stephanie and Cassandra had been the first straw. She tried to tell herself it didn’t bother her, that this made sense, that it was fine, and she had plenty on her plate already to worry about feelings and jealousy. Then the fights with Batman started all over again. Whatever understanding the two had pretended to have had faded away, leaving them to their usual tension and disagreements. In her mind, Bruce treated her as a child, and in his, she treated him with disrespect and arrogance. Lastly, her powers. Living with them had always been difficult, but she, more and more, felt no one was there to help her. At least, no one was giving her the grace and space she needed to adapt and learn. She couldn’t sleep, she couldn’t get tired, she needed to release them or her mind started to-

“Deep breath,” Sol whispered, closing her eyes and inhaling deeply. No spiraling. If she spirals, then the Lazarus energy within her wins, and she becomes a threat. If she becomes a threat, then she loses even more trust with the bats. “Gods dammit.”

Who cares about upsetting them? She’s the one struggling here. She needed to make a choice. Her hand picked up her cellphone for the fifth time, hovering over the call button. This time, she pressed it.

“Hello?” Kate’s voice answered on the other end, serious and tough as always, but she could hear the woman’s edge of concern. It reassured Sol that this was the right thing. “What’s up, Sol?”

“Hi, Kate,” she replied softly, eyes staring daggers at the horizon. If she hesitated too long, she’d cry. “This isn’t working out. This place. The- the team. I tried. I really tried.”

Kate didn’t hesitate. “What do you need?” The question flooded Sol with relief. There was no judgment, no fear of rejection, no interrogation or anxiety.

“I need a place to sleep for the next month while I get settled, three thousand bucks, and for you to look the other way while I siphon my power off.”

“...those first two I can do,” her mentor answered quietly. “I have an idea for your power, if you’ll give it a shot. A good one.”

“I’m hesitant to believe anything will work,” Sol rasped, a tear falling down her cheek. “But I’ll try whatever you want, Kate. I trust you, at least.”

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Sol figured running away so suddenly might be a bad idea. So, he left her belongings and her plans for another day. Next week, she could calmly inform them that she would be moving out on her own again, as she’d always been, to continue her life. If they didn’t like it? Fuck ‘em.

But tonight she had something else. The coordinates Batwoman had given her had led her to a desolate part of the city, a sad and dark spot known as Park Row. She recognized it as a neighborhood to avoid, of course, but not much more than that. On the way there, she had already stopped two robberies and a fight. But now, on the street below her, was one building that stood out, the facade brightly lit with a red cross sign of a hospital. On the front was a placard that said Thomas Wayne Memorial Clinic. Batwoman stood on the clinic's roof, across the street from Sol, and waved her arm to get her attention. She pointed down to the alley, a back entrance it seemed, and disappeared. The younger vigilante wasted no time going over, using a grapple gun to swing across the street and landing on the floor with hardly a sound.

“Sol,” she said with a nod, standing by the back door. “I want you to meet someone.” She knocked three times. The door opened, blinding lights made her glance away for a moment, and when the spots cleared, there was a civilian woman smiling at her. She was older, with silver hair, a white doctor’s coat, and a kind smile. Batwoman stepped aside, nodding to the other woman.

“My name is Doctor Leslie Thompkins,” the woman introduced herself, offering her hand. “Batwoman said you wanted to volunteer, and that you might need some help too.”

“Volunteer?” Sol asked, shaking her hand. The woman smiled and waved her inside.

“Batwoman says you have a unique ability that can help others. She also said it’s become a bit of a bother for you,” Thompkins said, leading both heroes into her clinic. Sol could hear the groaning of patients, the typing away of staff on computers, and the quick steps of the nurses rushing around. “She described your abilities as a tank of water that never stops filling up. Yes?”

Sol scoffed, shooting her mentor a glare. “More like a gasoline tanker trying to reach a spark. When I don’t get release, it gets ugly, doctor. Though I’m not sure why Batwoman would share something so...sensitive with you.”

“We think we have a way to burn some of that fuel for you,” Thompkins replied, keeping her calm demeanor. She opened another door, just a crack, to show her the clinic’s lobby. Dozens of people, criminal and civilian, were crowding the lobby. Most of these people had non-threatening wounds; those that did must have been rushed back. Still, it was clear this clinic was overflowing with patients.

“What the...you’d think this place is a hospital. And why the hell is the mob here? What’s going on?”

“Leslie here runs a completely free clinic that’s open to anyone,” Batwoman explained, putting a hand on Sol’s shoulder. “It’s neutral territory. Super villains and heroes could come for treatment here and feel safe. No one breaks the rules.”

Sol snorted, looking up at Leslie. “Seriously? What if they murdered a bunch of people? Wouldn’t you have a moral responsibility to call the police? Refuse them service?”

“In a city like this one,” Leslie said softly, looking back out the door. “Sometimes if you want to do right by someone, to do real good...it can’t be limited. You can’t be picky. By serving everyone, this place has endured, and more people have been helped than hurt. Even criminals have changed their ways, and heroes have come to understand and help them. It’s coexistence. It won’t work for everyone, but it helps in ways your violent work does not.”

“Thompkins here is, if you couldn’t tell, a pacifist,” Batwoman muttered, crossing her arms and sighing. “So we don’t see eye to eye. But...I like her thinking. And I think you could too.”

“You want me to work here.” The realization was a slap to the face. Her response was quick and immediate. “How the hell am I supposed to patrol, go to school, make money for my place, and volunteer to help a bunch of-”

“You’ll be paid,” Thompkins interrupted, closing the door. “We get funding from Bruce Wayne and city grants, and someone with your powers is more than worth the pay.”

“Besides, I’ll be covering some of the clinic’s expenses too,” Batwoman added, glancing away. “I’d cover your rent too, but you wouldn’t allow that.”

“Still, patrolling is all night, school is during the day. Since I don’t sleep, I could afford weird hours here and there, I guess, but-”

“Listen,” Batwoman said, grabbing Sol’s shoulders and tugging her to the side. She pursed her lips, the whites of her eyes staring into her. “I want you to take a break. Commit to this. School, fixing your life, and this job. You don’t have to do what I do just because Batgirl found you, or Spoiler was your friend.”

That was a shocker. A bucket of cold water that stole the air from her lungs and thoughts from her mind. Kate wanted her to quit being a vigilante? Maybe for good? It was a step further than Sol herself had planned. With her powers, how could she not be a hero, whether she wanted to or not?

Then she looked back to the door, to Thompkins, and her shoulders lost some of their tension.

“...because I don’t have a secret identity, my working here doesn’t compromise anything,” Sol whispered. “Healing these people will help drain some of my powers. At least, you think doing it regularly will help me out. Quitting the hero work gives me my life back. A job, a way to help, and I can focus on school.”

“Yeah,” Batwoman whispered, nodding and squeezing her shoulders. “You fell into this against your will, and it’s killing you, Sol. I’m not going to say this is or isn’t your path. I’ll support you. But take it from me: There are always other ways to serve.”

She didn’t know what felt more like a fairy tale. Everything that had happened to her since the awakening of her powers, or giving all that up. She couldn’t have the family that her friends had. Not among the bats. She couldn’t have Stephanie or Cassandra, not the way she had thought she’d felt for them, not now. She hadn’t felt like she could have a civilian life again, either. Choices? She wanted to laugh. She’d never had a choice in her entire life.

“Okay,” Sol whispered, tears falling down her cheeks, green eyes pulsing with distress. “I’ll give it a shot, Batwoman.”

The tears, she thought, were the goodbye she wouldn’t give the others. The fear of letting them down again. Bruce, Cass, Steph, the others. But Kate believed in her. She was here, the soldier that was supposedly so tough and independent, looking out for her. Smiling.

Sol pressed herself against her mentor, wrapping her in a bear hug and burying her face into Batwoman’s chest.

“Thank you.”

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Food, Love, Home

Chapter 6 of my story for @casscainweek 2026! This chapter features (finally) the Stephcass conclusion! AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/78390616/chapters/217257561#workskin

In the end, the case was progressing, but Cassandra remained unsatisfied. Batman himself had interrogated Punchline, getting what he could from the villain, while Stephanie investigated what was clearly Lupita’s safehouse, and Kate ruled out the diversion in Hong Kong. All these places, with their various uses, required setup. Officials, money, workers, and goons meant there were leads to follow. Eventually, the question of where Sol came from

“Stop thinking about it,” Stephanie said, slinging an arm around her shoulders. “Today is our day off, Cass. To celebrate.”

She was right. The two of them, along with a majority of the family, were gathered in the living room of Wayne Manor, all in their versions of pajamas or lounge wear, waiting for the girl of the hour.

They heard Sol complaining before she appeared, stifling amused laughter. “Kate, I’m seriously fine. As soon as my powers started charging up again, I knew I’d heal. We don’t have to do another check-” She entered the living room, Kate prodding her from behind with a small smile, and for one moment, green eyes flashed and widened in surprise.

“SURPRISE!”

Cassandra couldn’t help but smile. It was a strange sight: A dozen vigilantes standing around a table with a cake, all sharing smiles and grins, and half of them peeled away to pull Sol forward to the group.

“What’s this for? Getting better?” She asked uncertainly, looking around with a polite but confused smile of her own. “You shouldn’t have.”

Jason was the first to answer, leaning on her shoulder. “Nah, kid-”

“Again, I’m older than you.”

“-It’s a celebration for getting your first point in vigilante bingo.”

“...excuse me?” Sol looked around the room again, eyebrows knitting together in confusion, trying to decipher what was clearly a riddle or prank. “Bingo?”

“You beat your first meta,” Stephanie added happily. Cassandra’s chest ached as the blonde released her to hug Sol. “And although it wasn’t technically alone...you also fought off a pack of werewolves before that. So, we’re counting it!”

“It’s a tradition,” Duke sighed, clearly enjoying the experience of explaining this to someone, rather than being the newbie. “My first was sending a villain back to Arkham on my own.”

Cassandra spoke up, crossing her arms and smirking. “Trained by assassins.”

“Came back from the de-” Jason began to chime in, his voice braggish and teasing, until half the room glared at him. Today wasn’t the day for dark jokes.

Then everyone went silent as a new voice spoke behind them. “Let’s keep things lighthearted. We’ve all had to face terrible odds, but Sol...went above and beyond. She deserves a good party.” It was Bruce, wearing an attempt at casual clothes that were Batman sweatpants, a Superman shirt, and sipping out of a Wonder Woman coffee mug. The ridiculous image wasn’t the shocker, but rather him showing up for Sol. The two stared at each other while everyone else held their breath.

“Thanks,” she replied after a moment, green eyes softening. “I knew you guys all had my back, so...it wasn’t that scary.” She smiled, and Bruce returned it, albeit awkwardly.

“Alright!” Kate finally said, grabbing her shoulders and leaning in. “Let’s cut the cake before either of you choke on your words. First slice goes to the werewolf tamer.”

Just like that, the tension broke. People huddled around the cake, walked to their seats, or huddled in pairs to talk. Sol, completely healed and at ease, laughed with her friends and eagerly took her slice of cake. It was a good intermission to the chaos of the last few days.

But there was something Cassandra wanted to finish. Something she couldn’t leave hanging in the air. With quiet determination, she slipped between her siblings and friends, stealing Stephanie’s plate and grabbing the next from Kate. The blonde gasped in mock offense, following her out of the room.

“Excuse you, villain,” Stephanie declared dramatically. “Cake theft is punishable with death!”

Cassandra set both plates down on a small table in the hallway, facing Stephanie with squared shoulders, a straight back, and a look that made her best friend stop in her tracks. They knew each other well enough that the blonde could sense something important coming on. It only made Cass’s heart flutter when she smiled, stepping closer and pushing her bangs back.

“What’s up?”

Here it was. The big moment. Cassandra inhaled deeply, taking Stephanie’s hands. “I love you. Not like Barbara. Not like Bruce. Not like anyone else. You make me feel things I- I cannot control. When we went out as people. I was happy. When you were hurt-” She steps closer, expression bending into one of grief. “-I was scared. Lost. I don’t have a good word for us. I just...want us.”

It had been days since that conversation. Sol’s question: What are they to you? Which had sprung this first conversation. It was followed by her losing control with the werewolves, the second Stephanie had been hurt, and then a light tension as they worked the case.

No more.

“I could think of a few,” Steph whispered, leaning into Cass’s touch. She squeezed her friend’s hand, and Cass could read her like a book. Excitement, anxiety, confusion, impatience, hopefulness- A wonderful and disastrous mix of emotions that made Stephanie the confusing and wonderful person she was. She tugged them both closer. “But I know words and titles don’t do you justice. So…I love you too.”

I love you too.

It felt so stupid to have worried about this. The awkwardness, the tension, the little looks. They loved each other. It was as simple as that. And the pure joy Cassandra felt, more than any moment of her life, was like a bolt of energy through her body. It felt like Sol had overloaded her with Lazarus energy.

“Cass-” Steph gasped, her voice soft and unusually shy, as she closed the distance and captured the blonde's lips in a soft kiss. This initiative was rewarded with a gorgeous whine, as the blonde closed her eyes and moved her free hand across Cass’s face to grip the back of her neck.

The two broke the kiss, foreheads touching as they glanced downwards, grinning and giggling like two stupid girls in one of Cassandra’s old rom coms. They swayed together on their feet, to an invisible tune, taking in the moment together.

“Should we go back to the party?” Stephanie whispered. Cassandra felt her chest rumble and shook her head, much to the others’ amusement. “Maybe another kiss first?”

The two girls giggled and came together again, their lips meeting in fervent but shy exploration, emotions expressed in a way both of them could understand, and no one could ruin this moment.

Not even Sol, who was hiding behind the cracked open door to the living room, with wide green eyes staring from all the way down the hallway. She stepped back, not even daring to close the door lest they hear the click of the knob, and returned to the party with a forced smile.

[neppyshub]

Gotham, Bludhaven, Hong Kong

Chapter 5 for @casscainweek ! It's super late but the entire story is already on AO3 and as of this post ALL chapters are uploaded to this account! This chapter features (perhaps finally) Bruce Wayne alongside Cassandra! It's gooey <3 AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/78390616/chapters/215611181

Cassandra woke up with a loud and sudden gasp. Her back arched as pain racked her lungs, and she suddenly realized there was a mask on her face, ripping it off and sitting up straight. Immediately, her eyes scanned the room. The Batcave. Two individuals: Sol and-

“Bruce?” Cassandra knew whatever had been done to her must have been bad for him to appear. Looking so concerned, no less. But the real shocker was how he held Sol in an arm, the poor girl dripping sweat and panting, barely able to stand. A glance confirmed a second bed beside hers, with disconnected ECG cables, and other monitors that were now reading zero. Her eyes returned to Bruce to catch the poker face, yet even he couldn’t hide from her abilities. Her heart dropped. “What did you do?”

“He didn’t do anything,” Sol wheezed, sighing as the Batman lifted her in his arms. She was so weak she couldn’t lift her limbs, much less protest. “My choice, Cass.”

“What did you choose?” She asked, sliding her legs off the bed and furrowing her brow with concern. “Sol, what did you do? You were healing. You shouldn’t have-”

Sol grinned, her green eyes dull but definitely still glowing. A good sign. “Just do me a favor and figure...all of this…” Her head slumped back before she could finish her sentence, and Bruce, Bruce, managed to look concerned for her. He set her on the bed, quickly and gently re-attaching the monitor cables and tucking her in.

Cassandra never thought she’d see the day those two agreed on something. And it had been to strain Sol to heal her. In an instant, her blood was boiling. She hopped off the bed, stepping up to Bruce with clenched fists. “You knew she couldn’t handle it. You know how her powers work.”

“She promised me she could handle it. And she did,” Bruce replied in that curt, serious tone of his. Not a father figure, but the Batman. Usually, Cassandra agreed with him, unless he was trying to get her to avoid danger. But this, with Sol, was too much.

“If Dick or me tried to push ourselves like- like that, you would never-” Her voice was getting stuck. The anger and anxiety made it harder for her to speak, to express herself as she’d like. “She can’t handle-”

“If you can sacrifice yourself, then why can’t she?” Stephanie said, finally revealing herself. She was in her Batgirl suit, cowl off, arms crossed, and face tight with guilt. In an instant, Cassandra knew she’d helped allow this to happen. She was here and let Sol and Bruce do this. “You were doing badly. Because you pushed me out of that room, Cass. We were worried and Sol...Sol has already handled worse. We had to let her try.”

“I don’t want any of you- any-” Cassandra’s voice caught. God dammit! Why was it so hard to push past the lump in her throat? To say she didn’t want anyone to get hurt for her sake, much less those close to her. Stephanie, Bruce, Sol, and others like Dick meant the world to her. She wasn’t worth-

“Stop it,” Stephanie whispered, closing the distance to hug Cassandra. “I can see what you’re thinking. Stop it right now.”

Cassandra closed her eyes, stifling her tears. It was too much. In only a few days, everything felt like it had begun falling apart. The werewolves, Stephanie almost dying, Sol pushing herself too hard, and now she had been defeated. Ambushed. And what was all that with Dare-

Oh. Oh. Her memories of last night returned. Daredevil. Matthew. The man from another place, who had spent so much time together. The long talk they had shared. The memories instantly made her feel better. Calmer. Suddenly, everything she felt was bottled up didn’t seem quite so overwhelming. He had helped her.

It’s alright. I think...all it’ll take is some faith.

Faith. Cassandra sighed. If she wanted to do what Sol said and figure out what was going on, then maybe, at least temporarily, she needed to have some faith. There would be time for anger afterwards.

“Why did you wake me up?” Cassandra asked, squeezing Stephanie once before pulling back. Her eyes returned to her father. “If I wasn’t dying, then you must have a good reason. Both of you.”

Bruce nodded, giving Sol one last worried glance, which was still very strange. He nodded to the Bat-computer and led the two Batgirls there. “We looked into Lupita. She took an antidote for the fear gas trap, was only partially affected, and I was able to interrogate her.” Stephanie tensed up. If Bruce had done the interrogation, especially after Cass had gotten hurt, it probably hadn’t been pretty. “Whoever set her up with Sol definitely did so on purpose. Oracle combed years' worth of street and security footage to see that Lupita had been keeping a close eye on Sol. She only went to her job two days a week.”

“Apparently, the director of the asylum was getting bribed to not care,” Stephanie added, sighing. “Money always talks.”

“She’s led us to three locations. One here in Gotham, in the Bowery, near Sol's old apartment. Another in Hong Kong. We think this is a dead end, something her handlers set up to make the trail back to them muddier, and then a closer location in Bludhaven.”

“Batwoman is taking Hong Kong-”

“Batwoman?” Even Cassandra Cain wasn’t immune to surprise, or the occasional outburst. Kate Kane was still a very sore spot for her. Stephanie was quick to explain, taking her hand and squeezing it.

“Kate was more of a mentor to Sol than anyone here,” the blonde explained gently. “She’s just as worried and dedicated to her as we are. And since you were out cold, we needed the backup. Almost everyone else is on their own missions.”

“As I was saying,” Bruce continued, clearing his throat. “Batwoman is taking Hong Kong. Stephanie is taking the Gotham location. I’m taking Bludhaven.”

“I’ll go with Stephanie,” Cass immediately said, standing straight and crossing her arms, daring them to deny her.

“No,” they both replied, turning on her. Okay, wow, she hadn’t expected that. But Bruce continued before she could get angry. “If you’re going to join us, then it will be in Bludhaven with me.” Clearly, he knew her too well, because he continued quickly to avoid her arguments. “Gotham is most likely a living space or outpost for Lupita. Hong Kong is likely a diversion. If there is any real danger, it will be in Bludhaven. I want back-up.”

His argument was solid. In fact, most of the family might have reached the same conclusion. Tim Drake, master detective, or Dick Grayson, the most experienced son of the cowl. However, with Bruce, it was always a double-edged sword. He was too smart. By taking her as back-up, she would be held out of the line of fire, close to home and help, and she would be under his supervision.

He was worried. Scared for her, even. The thought, while always sweet, would usually serve to annoy her. Yet after everything that had happened, Cassandra had to admit she felt...relief. It was nice to be cared about. It always was.

“Alright,” the Batgirl agreed, sighing and nodding. “Let’s finish this.”

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It felt strange to be here without Nightwing, who apparently was on a mission somewhere in South America. It did feel nice to fill in a little bit, Batman and Batgirl swooping into alleyways to stop criminals who practically shit themselves when it was them, not Nightwing, that had come to punish.

What? After all this time, Cassandra had the right to enjoy little bits of her job.

The pair still made sure not to delay their actual purpose for being here for too long. Stephanie had already begun her investigation, supervised by Oracle, and Batwoman had just landed in Hong Kong. Now the two of them found themselves facing a historic building in downtown Bludhaven. Old, like the psych ward, but made of brick. It towered higher and was narrower like a small tower, complete with a bell on top.

“This building used to be a church. The city repurposed it as a shelter. Shut down exactly three years before Sol was admitted to the Elizabeth ward. The city has tried to maintain and reopen it, but a lack of funds or public support continuously stalls the project.” Oracle, vigilant as always, didn’t even need to be asked before providing the information. “Some reports of breaking and entering over the years, a murder, but nothing that would indicate some sinister force using it as a base.”

“Roger, Oracle, we’ll keep you updated on our progress,” Batman spoke into his earpiece, observing the building beside Batgirl from across the street.

It had been a while since the two of them ran a mission together. As in, just them. The moon was hidden behind clouds, making for low visibility. The only part of her mentor that was truly visible was the white skin of his chin and jaw, and the glint of his gold utility belt. Despite how practiced he was at maintaining appearances, stoic nature in body and face, she could read the tension on him even easier than usual. Guilt? Fear? Not for the mission, she realized, but from before. For having Sol heal her.

“We can talk,” Batgirl said quietly. Not a request but permission, given from someone who preferred silence to someone bad at expression. “I’d like that.”

“You won’t like anything I have to say,” he replied, glancing at her before pulling out his grapple gun. The two of them fired across the street, pulling themselves to the roof of the tower and clinging to the wall. “I know you’re mad I allowed her to heal you.”

“Yes.” She didn’t have to say anything else. It wasn’t time yet. Batgirl pulled out a tiny but razor-sharp glass cutter from her belt and easily carved half of a wide circle, then tossed it to Batman, who finished the cut.

He quickly sliced the glass, completing the circle, and pulled out a small suction tool. “It was her idea, but I allowed her. Her pushing her abilities like that, after everything she went through, is my fault.” He attached the tool to the glass, tugging it free. Cassandra pushed off the wall and swung inside, smoothly detaching her grapple from the roof to land without more than a creak. Batman continued as he passed her the piece of glass. “Stephanie didn’t stop us, and you might take that up with her, but it was my call. A call I don’t regret.”

“Continue,” Batgirl said, taking the glass to allow Batman to follow her in, pushing himself off the wall, twisting into a graceful landing, and retracting his grapple. “There’s more.”

“She and I have a difficult relationship,” he continued, footsteps as silent as Batgirl’s, the two walking towards the door. He paused to listen in on the other side, then nodded, opening the door. “You think that makes me more willing to risk her for your safety. For any of you. She’s an outsider. She’s not my child.”

That word made her shiver as she walked into the next room. She did believe those were his thoughts. She also knew they filled him with guilt. A leader shouldn’t be biased like that. Shouldn’t risk lives.

But he did.

“I can’t say I’m sorry,” he sighed. “I know it’s not right, Batgirl, but your condition was deteriorating. We didn’t have anything else to give you. She was the only choice, and any of us would have done the same in-”

“I understand.” Not it’s alright, not forgiveness, but understanding. If she could get hurt for Stephanie, risk her life for any of them, if Batman could take a bullet for her, then Sol could strain her powers for them as well. It was her choice. She didn’t have to like it...but in this line of work, she had to accept it. Even if she wished Bruce would have hesitated more. “I do not like it. She doesn’t know what she is doing yet. But...I know her. It wouldn’t matter. And I know you.”

“...alright,” Batman said, scanning the room with her. The two worked in silence for a few moments, opening drawers, looking out the window, scanning the ground and walls for any sign of, well, anything. With a nod from Batman, they opened the door to the stairwell and started making their way down. Batgirl remained silent, knowing her father wasn’t done. He had more to get out. Their eyes met as he opened the next door for her, watching as she scanned the room carefully and nodded.

“Go on,” Batgirl said. Even Batman needed encouragement, from time to time.

“...I’m sorry I can’t get along with her. At least, just yet.”

Those words actually managed to distract the vigilante. She turned around, staring at him with wide eyes hidden behind her mask, heart racing. An apology? For Sol? But he didn’t stop there.

“The fact is, having kids terrifies me,” Batman said, efficiently rummaging through the furniture her, in what appeared to be an office. Despite the clear emotional weight of this talk, he kept the same, even, emotionless voice. “You all know that. We’ve been through the stages of me trying to keep you safe. Out of the line of fire.” He moves to a desk, kneeling to investigate its surface. “Sometimes I still wonder if it was a mistake to let you all risk your lives like this. To be stuck in a cave and symbol. Regardless, it was my choice. Some of you were dropped onto me, but...I chose to take you all in. To teach you. To care.”

Batgirl’s voice is a whisper, pained with realization. “You never chose her.” It felt like a splash of cold water. The way he seemed to immediately reject her, refused to be a main participant in her training, constantly found reasons to hold her back from patrols, and so much more. She had dragged her own stray back home, and everyone had expected Batman to do what he always did: The right thing. I care for her and adopt her. Even worse was the realization that Sol was just as hard-headed as Bruce. She never attempted to get along.

She hadn’t chosen him either.

“I’m...sorry,” Batgirl choked out, which caught her mentor's attention. “I did not realize.”

The moment was interrupted by a loud crash below them. Both bats froze, listening intently, but nothing followed it. Still, that was too sudden and loud to be a coincidence. Someone was definitely here. With a nod from Batman, the two returned to the stairwell, swinging from the rail to the door below. Batgirl put her ear to the door while Batman pulled out smoke pellets.

It had been a long time since just the two of them worked together. Despite this, their sync was completely natural. Batgirl kicked the door open, and Batman tossed in the smoke pellets. Following a loud pop, the room filled with smoke, and whoever was in there began to cough. Amateurs, it seemed, without the gear to face them properly. With this in mind, Batman ran in, and she waited. After all, she was his backup. A trump card if someone surprised him. So, she listened as he stomped and thumped around with the others, the occasional yell or shattering of glass joining them. After exactly three minutes, he tapped his boot three times. The all clear. Still, she waited out of sight. No one would know she was nearby unless she wanted them to.

“Oracle,” Batman said, even as he really was only speaking to her. “Three goons. They looked like Joker's men but had something different. The same idea, at least. They were lugging around three cases, which they failed to booby-trap. Someone expected us to come here.” She heard the click of the cases opened and a moment of silence as he examined the contents. “It’s a clue. Not just evidence. Someone wants us to learn a little more about S. There’s evidence of the bribery to her wards director, false identities for her caretaker, extra cash, but nothing indicating who bankrolled all this.”

A creak from the floor beneath them. Both vigilantes pause, one waiting for orders and the other thinking. A moment later, Batman tapped his foot twice, the green light for her to go downstairs and check it out. He’d continue searching the room and making noise. Whoever was down there wouldn’t expect her to attack them. Still, it didn’t mean she had to be stupid about it. If they had been placing traps, then there could be more.

Batgirl quickly made her way to the floor below and immediately pulled a snake camera. A small device she could slide under the door and see the feed on her wristwatch. Once it seemed all clear, from the floor to the handle above the camera, she pulled it back and opened it. Thankfully, it did not creak, and it was dark enough that only someone with powers or night vision would see her. With trained calm, she silently made her way inside, relaxing to the point you’d struggle to catch a heartbeat. She was no more than a shadow. A shadow that could hear the slightest shift of the wooden floor, the nervous and shallow breathing of someone trying to remain quiet, and the inevitable shift as they peaked out from behind a desk, trying to see what had opened the door and slipped right past their sight.

With a whish in the air, a batarang flew out before the woman could think, hitting the gun in her hand and making her fall back with a panicked yelp. Batgirl didn’t hesitate to close the distance, twisting her way around the wicked knife that flew forward to meet her, grabbing the woman’s wrist, twisting and shoving her face-first into the wall.

“You bats are...so annoying…” Punchline, clowned menace, and certified chemical terrorist, groaned. She was in her usual stretchy, purple bodysuit, with knee-height black leather boots and a tight, low-cut leather bodice. Her black hair was tied back into a simple ponytail, her grinning face was made insanely creepier with white concealer, innocent blush, and heavy use of eyeliner. “Can’t let a girl finish a job in peace? Come on.”

“Punchline,” Batgirl said for Oracle and Batman to hear. “What are you doing? Why were you waiting for us?”

“Waiting? Gorgeous, I was setting up.” Her grin only grew, eyes darting to the side in a vain attempt to see her assailant. “I don’t get paid if the job isn’t finished.”

She pulled back and slammed the villain into the wall. “Paid. By who?” Her grip only grew more painful as Punchline giggled and twitched.

“Oops, I shouldn’t have said that. But, hey, the money is really good.” She sighs dramatically, relaxing in the Batgirl’s grip. “Why are you so tilted, Batty?”

Batgirl mentally cursed herself. In her anger, her eagerness to avenge Sol and ensure her safety, she’d let her anger seep. Punchline, despite her looks, was incredibly smart. Smart enough to pick up on it. Smart enough to use it. Batgirl, by contrast, was not smart enough to win a war of words.

“Talk to me,” she hissed in Punchline’s ear. “Or talk to him.” She roughly grabbed the villain by the hair, still holding her twisted wrist, and spun her around to face the doorway where Batman now loomed, remaining in the dim light from the hallway window. All this did was make Punchline cackle with excitement.

“Two for one. Nice.”

Click.

“Looking for this,” Batman said, tossing forward a rather large, round device. It could have been a bomb or a dispenser. Punchline sneered, for once, her cocky attitude was smashed by reality. “If you thought we would fall for your traps twice, you were wrong, Punchline. Only one person could have edited the fear toxin in Elizabeth. Only one person typically bothers to do so.”

The big bat stalked forward, leaning down to glare at her. He let her stir in his presence for a minute, let the weight of these two stalkers settle in around her before speaking. “You’ll tell us what you know. Or else I’ll let Batgirl do the talking. And you made her very, very mad.”

She didn’t wait for permission to emphasize. With a sharp twist, Punchline’s wrist snapped, and the girl howled in pain, not that this made Batgirl release her.

“You’re working for someone,” Batman decided. “You had no reason to set all this up. You don’t do mass casualty events. You use people. The werewolves were far outside your area of expertise.” Batgirl gave a slight nod. Punchline didn’t have to answer: She could feel her tension ever so slightly, see the curl in her lips that tried to hide how fast she was thinking of an excuse. A lie. Batgirl nodded ever so slightly for her counterpart to continue.

“You could do anything for money,” Batman said, narrowing his eyes. The white slits of his cowl did so as well. “Someone else is playing a game and hired you as a pawn. What do they want?”

“Well, Batsy,” she grunted, trying to smile through the pain. “If I told you that I wouldn’t get paid, would I?”

Snap! One of her fingers, making her bite her lip until it bled, and stomp her foot repeatedly. “Fuck! Oooh, I’m going to enjoy killing you one day, girly-” Another snap! Punchline cried out, head falling as she squirmed and shifted uselessly.

“Focus,” Batman ordered, gripping her jaw and making her look up.

“This isn’t really fun anymore,” Punchline panted, eyes fluttering. “Tell me you guys are done.”

“Not even close,” he replied with a growl.

“Nah,” she shook her head slightly. “I wasn’t talking about you.”

An explosion rocked the bottom of the old tower, throwing all three of them to the floor. Punchline took the opportunity to sprint to the door, having been waiting for this moment, and Batgirl growled as she disappeared from view. She pushed herself up, about to run out, when Batman’s arm hooked around her waist.

“No, Batgirl, she’s planned this,” he barked. “It’s either trapped or time for us to fall with the building.”

“We can’t let her- Away-” Her voice choked, as it always did when she got too stressed or angry. But he was right, and she knew it. All she could do was stare at the door as Batman ran with her to the window, smashing it open. A moment later, the two were grappling away.

They’d learn something. Yet this felt less like a victory and more like a cliffhanger. A moment before a big reveal. It wasn’t enough, and she knew it.

But there was nothing she could do.

[ciricearts]

ohh so scaryyy!!

[neppyshub]

I'm adding this to my DC vampires fic because I am a simp for fictional women EDIT: As in, vampire Cassandra. NOT taking the artists work without permission!!