Aliapanacea

  A household, holding truth in captivity,

  New Houston, where we y our se,

  beh the thumb of assumed divinity,

  Where no Vanguard may intervene.

  Far below the true foe’s home,

  A pair of star-cross'd lovers vene,

  Their misadveruggles make known,

  One's parents' work obse.

  Together the samurai, fight, find love,

  In battle against time and fate,

  W towards the world above,

  Where naught but death await;

  The which if you with patient eyes attend,

  What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.

  ***

  Lying on the floor of my in a pile of all my droll clothes, I hold a broken shard ht, almost fluorest green gss up to the dim light above me, marveling at the tiny fractures and miniscule imperfes that fill it. inally, it had been a tle vase I found in a random little antique store, but a month at sea had ged that.

  In hindsight, I think I like it better shattered anyway.

  I sigh, flipping the piece to see the other side and pting the beauty of what I'm holding. Whoever crafted this gss, some hundred and fifty years ago, before even the world wars had rocked Earth, probably had no clue of the cost of what they were making, no idea that uranium could kill them. Their art sted, but who knows how long the artist had lived after making this? They shared a fate now, and something about that struck a chord with me.

  My left hand spasms and the shard flies nearly perfectly vertically up into the air, slowly rotating as it falls. It nds softly onto my chest, and I reach to pick it back up with my good arm, but flinch as I cut my thumb on its sharp edge. Grimag, I reach over and grab a bck cotton sock from beside my head, using it to the gss. The threat successfully secured, I sigh, rolling my eyes as I toss the now deadly ball of fabric across the room into my duffel bag.

  This was so fug b.

  As I y dazed, I ignore a few strange sounds I assume are someoalking out in the hallway, but nearly jump out of my skin as a blur of a face appears looking down onto me. I hastily spin and sit up, aowledging the crew member who had so rudely entered my room, sighing as I turn my inner ear impnts ba. The man’s voice is deep and mase, and I ’t help but appreciate the bit of scratch that apa.

  “We’re dog very soon, so get yourself packed and ready.” Shaking his head, the man walks away, but pauses in the door frame just before he steps out of the room. “Don’t fet, your family is expeg you for dinner. And keep your damn augs online while on my ship.”

  As the man sms the door, I take a shaky breath as reality begins to desd upon me. Family meals are stant sources of stress, but I usually have multiple days to prepare for them…

  Fuuuck.

  I hastily stuff my clothes and other miseous items into my duffle bag before I rush out of my . The custrophobic hallways of the ship are something I’m sort of used to at this point, after the several trips I’ve taken, but it doesn’t mean they aren’t unfortable as all hell. As I step into the midday sun ahe crisp o wind, a bittersweet smile stretches ay lips.

  Home.

  Looming far above the cargo ship I’ve spent the st month upon, New Houston’s tral tower stretches nearly four hundred feet into the air, its long shadow reag across the o towards the eastern sky. The gulf is a clear, transparent blue as always, a sight that I’m definitely appreciating more after the several beaches I visited in New New York.

  While it was inally a piece of floating scrap metal they once used to suck the life out of the earth, during the early days of the incursions a first gen Samurai verted the rotting into a small fortress. The idea caught on, mostly among rich idiots who wanted a bastion of their own separate from the crumpling try of the inal Uates, and soon there was a whole flotil of verted rigs. In the end, the creator eventually handed trol of the inal over to one of his rades.

  One I know almost too well.

  A few figures brush past me as I stand there staring at the pce I relutly call home, and by the time I snap out of my little daze a whole minute has passed. I step out onto the deck, roaming a bit until I reach the port bow. Gradually, the incessant cacophony of the base of the tins to fill my ears, a faint ringing that seems to grow more shrill with each passing sed. I slowly su a breath, that crew member’s words about my impnt eg in the bay mind, but it soon is too much to bear. I inwardly grimace as I tap the bay hree times, flipping my impnts off once again.

  I anxiously watch as the ship decelerates, and as soon as the ship lurches to a stop, I vault over the side of the ship. Smming down onto the crete harbor, I sprint away from my waterbound prison, gng back to see a particurly irate man screaming without words at me. I chuckle at them under my breath, but quickly s my focus to ensure I avoid slipping on the iable random puddles people leave upo docks.

  As I jog, although it’s relut, I inwardly thank my Grandfather for his insistene ‘preparing for worst case sarios’. Though they absolutely suck, the physical bes from the incursion exercises he mandates for me are a nice boon. Also, the HEMA part of it was actually kind of fun, because besides the exhirating matches I got to have with people near my skill level on trips, swinging swords around is just kind of enjoyable in general. Unfortunately, any enjoyment I had sort of evaporated when he decided to insist I was his exclusive practice partner. Not that I know why, he stomps me into the dirt every time.

  It ’t be good practice.

  Apparently having fotten how long the wet docks actually are, I’m panting as I step foot onto the floatiral ptform. The wide array e Bells that popute its edges are as popur as ever, but I absolutely rue whoever thought of the transportatiohod. A small individual airlock hooked to a e was teically a good idea for desding into the depths of the city, but in practice? I shiver as I hastily slip into a crowd, leaving the cursed hub of transportation behind me, almost knog an older man over as I do.

  As I weave through the mass of people, I catch sight of my destination, the gss elevator that leads to the upper floors. I pause to wait once I arrive, and when it fully desds, a strange maid giggling to herself is within. As we step past each other, for a frozen moment, I see a fsh of breathtaking sapphire in the blur of her face. I swing around to look at her again, my heart suddenly doing double time, but she is o be seen. I shake my head, doing my best to banish the fleeting image; even if she was wearing our family’s uniform, it’s rather unlikely I ever see her again.

  I lean against the cold gss wall as the door closes behiaking a few deep breaths to calm my heart, just as a couple worst case sarios about tonight begin to bounce around in my head. I bite my lip, turning my head towards the horizon, sighing at the unfortunate beauty of the afternoon sun reflected upoer. If it were anywhere else, I’d sider it beautiful, a se worthy of poetry.

  But this is New Houston, and the name alone mars the image in my mind.

  I slightly flinch as the lift lurches to a stop, and with more than a bit of hesitation, I step out onto my family’s private floor. The first thing I always notice when I arrive here after a trip is the btant crooked trast between the pearly manor and everything around it. When grandfather bought this pce two decades ago, he’d left a space all around our house to give himself ao make a garden, but like most things in his life, it was left by the wayside in favor of killing aliens. In the end, the New Houston standard won out, reddish steel and gray crete melding together into the rather dull, barrehat tends to domihe city as a whole.

  I take a few steps forward, reach out for the door hahen jump a bit when I hear my impnts turning ba with a click, a buttery smooth yet obviously artificial deep voice with a stereotypical Old British at immediately following in its wake.

  “Wele home, young master,” The Vanguard AI states iypical monotone manner, “Let me get the door for you.”

  “U-Uh, yeah,” I mutter, quietly pulling my hand back, “T-thanks Jysli.”

  “It is no problem Anthony, I am gd that I be of assistance.”

  The entrao the family manor automatically swings open, and I’m forced to swiftly banish the vein of self hatred that the AI just dug up as I awkwardly shuffle into the mairance of our house.

  Due to mother’s straastes regarding interior design, the mairao the manor resembles a cssic high-end hotel lobby; a red velvet carpet lined with gold leads down the middle, a few couches with the same design sit with their back against one wall and ay reception desk occupying the other. Each of the three hallways tered here ect to differeions of the building, and I hastily rush towards the oo the right, hoping that I get to my room before aches notiy presence.

  Unfortunately, I get barely halfway through the room before an all too familiar, nasal sing-song voice from behind me makes my blood freeze. I stiffly straighten my back, hoping my inadequacies aren’t as obvious as I know they are. My bones creak as I turn to see a figure that has been perfectly engraved into my long term memory.

  “So, you’re home, Anthony.” The woman walks up to me, bringing her right hand to her blurry face. “How was New New York?”

  I take a shaky breath, then turn to tiowards my destination, trying with no avail to push down the suffog fog that has begun to rise in my chest.

  “G-Good,” I mao sputter out, an exceedingly paltry ao a question from a woman who very much does not like that sort of thing. Not skipping a beat after that, she mercilessly attacks, her words sending a javelin of ito my heart:

  “I’m expeg you to talk allll about the trip tonight, okay dear?~”

  Right as I reach the entrao the eastern hallway, I pause as I feel her press her hand onto the small of my back. I gasp as her nails slowly move upwards across the bay shirt, the unfortably ticklish trace she leaves making me ge, until she abruptly stops when her hand reaches my shoulder.

  “Rex for a bit, won’t you? You’re finally home.” The woman chuckles as she curls her fingers, getting dangerously close to digging her nails into my skin. I don’t evehe until she steps away, but as I do, she drops a bomb on me. “Oh, and just so you know Anthony, we’re having snook for dionight! I eve down to the market and picked it out for myself!”

  I wi that little tidbit of knowledge as she walks away and vanishes into the northern hall. Once I’m sure she’s gone, I rush down the hallway until I reach my room, which I immediately enter and lock behind me. I take three deep breaths to calm my ragi, then trudge ay room. I pce the duffel down beside my desk, then pull out the few actually iing things I had picked up on my trip before I dump everything else into a undry hamper.

  I saunter over to one of my drawers, pulling out some gss tainers, which I then begin to put my prizes into. To be specific, the broken uranium vase, a half melted rolex watch, and iingly enough, a totally fried samurai tech watch. Funny that the only things I mao get could be sidered trash to some people. I first take my imepieces, easily slotting them into my clock colle, before I find myself deliberating where exactly to put the broken gss.

  My colle has gotten a lot of different things through the years, mostly from my dives at the ruins of old fallen cities. After a quice over, I end up slotting the tainer between my bck gems and alexandrite, deg them close enough to gemstoo fit. With my final job done, I dramatically do a little spin before I flop down onto my bed.

  It’s funny, in my family’s huge house, iy my family essentially owns, now I truly feel like I am home.

  Regardless, tonight’s dinner is going to be the absolute worst. Why the fuck did she choose fish on my first day back?

  “Ugggh.”

  I cover my face with my hands, my chest filled with dread at the iable future.

  I wish I could turn off my impnts and just sleep, fet about the stupid thing to make a quiet report tomorrow. That’d for sure get me yelled at by someone or ahough, for multiple reasons, but annoyingly enough, mostly for the impnt thing. Grandfather is super strict about the impnts; There’s a seo it, of course, sidering that we o be able to hear the emergency sirens, whistles and the like. Yet, as everything else in my life, they just… made it into some kind of sick game.

  I wish I knew why.

  As exhaustion begins to weigh upon me, I relutly creak to my feet and slowly waddle over to my closet, hesitantly opening it. Inside, sitting beside the few clothes I hadn’t deemed as necessary for my trip, the single mirror I allow to be in my room sits in its solitary exile.

  Well, it’s been a while since I st checked…

  No time like the present, I guess.

  I reach out, pressing the small button on its metallic side, illuminating the dusty surface of the mirror. Despite my slight hopes, the blurry image remains the same as it always was.

  I’ve fotten what I look like.

  The mess that is my refle is not unlike someone painted a portrait of me before tossing a bucket of dirty water at the vas. I could still look down and see my body, of course, but that tends to cause a bit of a different problem. Even thinking about any of this makes my stomach with dread.

  I ram the bottom of my fist into the mirror’s switch, grabbing a fresh white shirt before smming the closet door shut. Taking deep breaths to calm myself down, I shift away from my closet and sink into my squishy leather chair. I slowly ge without looking down nor rising from the seat, then sigh as I lean back to look at the slowly spinning ceiling fan. My mind begins to wander, and I lift my left hand up, finding that like it always has, it trembles and twitches.

  Why do moments like this make me wonder, is there truly a way for someone like me, broken in mind, broken in body, to break free from the s that bio this pbsp;

  The few trips I get to go on are exhausting and all, but they’re the only times I really feel free, feel like I’m getting close to finding, well, me. Here, there’s a weight pressing down on me, pushio bee someone I’m not. Monteros must be rger than life, a symbol of freedom for the people of New Houston.

  Kinda funny that after eighteen fug years, all it took to crack the mask they raised me to wear was two days in Cascadia with a very angry girl. I hadn’t even known it was an issue until she flipped me on my ass and screamed in my face. Fh years after that though, despite my best efforts, I still haven’t been able to escape their whims.

  Yet light still shihrough the fracture she made, a golden thread of hope leading to a new m, an unknown day.

  I finally say I don’t want to be here. I want to live my own life.

  Whatever that’s worth for someone like me.

  I sigh, tilting my head bad closing my eyes.

  “How the hell,” I mutter quietly to myself as I push the chair into a spin, “Am I going to vince her to let me he fish?”

  The question sort of bounces around in my head, at least until I find myself standing in front of the most imposing doors in our home. Twice as tall as me and probably several times as heavy, the thick, basically medieval doors my grandfather chose stood out like a sore thumb in this opulent pace of a building. With a gulp, I press my hand to the door, the gigantic crimson sbs sliding across the floor as if they were weightless as I do.

  Samurai magic is weird.

  Inside, our family dining room is remi of a king’s hall, the absurdly long table illuminated in flickering light from the burning brasiers hanging from the ceiling. Every piece of fabri the room is a deep maroon, not ting the handwoven tapestries depig the history of New Houston that are proudly hung upon the walls. The gigantic table which could seat twenty is just set with five gigantic, ornate oak chairs, all pced upon one of the table’s length.

  I’m somehow the first oo arrive, but despite my urge to just leave, I sit down in my designated seat anyway, the closest oo the front of the room. These damn chairs sucked to sit in- They weren’t even family heirlooms or anythiher, but thinking about it, that might even be his master pn. One final fuck you as he leaves a world he made an objectively worse pbsp;

  I carefully arrahe shining, pure silver cutlery we always used, pg them in the exact way I like it. If I’m going to suffer in this room reeking of my Grandfather’s ego, I’m going to do it on my terms.

  “Hey, you’re back!” I freeze as the chipper yet unfortable voiters my ears, “God, it’s good to see you bro.”

  A frown creeping onto my faultiple reasons, I awkwardly raise a hand to wave at my brother, though I don’t look up from my utensils. He frowns as he takes his seat, three chairs down from me, showing off his alerfect manners as he pces his napkin into his colr.

  “Why the long face?” He scoots the chair forward like it weighs nothing, straightening his back as he looks at me. “I know you’re probably tired, but is something wrong?”

  I shake my head, f a smile as I bite my inner lip. It really hurt to lie, but I couldn’t talk about the deeply plicated issues I had been having, especially to him. He had been… far more pleasant to deal with during the st year then I typically remember him being. I did get to appreciate it for a while, but right before I left for New New York, he dipped out on something he promised to me. Now that he’s standing in front of me again, I find myself deeply unfortable at the way his tone is treating things as if they are the same as they were before I left.

  Despite my urge, saying anything else would break the act I know we’re both putting on.

  As if my disfort was blood ier, both of the dining room doors sm open as my grandfather regally steps iomping towards his seat at the ter of the table. He was by far the easiest person I know tnize, his gigantic silver suit of armor never ing off even when he slept. The man was nothing if not paranoid. He silently ks down into his seat, the gold trimmed, circur carvings in the oak behind him almost resembling a halo.

  I turn my head to the entrance again as three more figures walk in. The first is obviously my mother, her pearl white heels clig on the ground as she moves to the end of the table. She’s in a modern corporate style pantsuit tonight, but it almost seems like she bought it for a size smaller than what she should be wearing. Hell if I know why she decided that was a good idea.

  The other two figures are easy to guess, as they move to the seat beside me, the rger of the two sitting down. That makes him my father, who I holy don’t really know much about. Well, other than his tendency to have a ‘helper’ with him at all times, typically the head maid Marianne. She was niough, but I did occasionally catch her staring at me. I'm just going to assume this is her and worry about literally anything else.

  A familiar, awkward silence fills the room as the members of our family adjust themselves to an arbitrary standard. Eaoves the same way, their practiced motions supposedly showing off their social status in the best possible way. It just cws at my posure like the screech of a feedback loop.

  Simultaneously, five figures ehe room, each pushing a small cart before them. Oops beside each family member, and in unison pce dote of perfectly cooked snook, a detly buttered piece of bread, and a gss of some red wine before disappearing off the stage. Yet, even with the meals in front of us, nobody moves, all of us looking towards the ter of the table.

  Nobody eats befrandfather.

  After a somewhat annoyingly tense moment, the eldest lifts his fork as a small bite of the fish, signaling the beginning of the modest feast. Everyone else eats in perfect harmony, quietly chewing their meals while showing absolutely ion, no indication of if they think the food is good or not. I try not to focus too mu it as I slowly nibble at a piece of bread.

  It kind of baffles me how stubborn these people are. I know from my many lessons about high society that it’s a faux pas to serve red with fish instead of white, but during our family dinners, we only drink red.

  Anything else is bsphemy.

  To my slight surprise, my father is the first oo break the script, a rather unusual occurreo be sure. His words are slow, chosen with sideration I don’t usually expect from him, his deep baritone dispying a surprising amount of i iopic of his words.

  “The up and restru job ile has proven a rather lucrative venture.” He takes a bite of fish, chews it exactly six times, then swallows it. “It’s increased the stock value of our stru branch by at least seven pert. There was a… small disagreement with the twins leading the efforts, but I was able to get them resolved without further issue.”

  With a sigh, my grandfather pces his fork down, making all of us gid. After a moment, he speaks, his annoyance obvious in his rather brittle, aged tone.

  “Richard, what have I said about dealing with samurai?” My grandfather picks his fork up again, chews the fish five times, then swallows.

  “Father,” The maually mutters, nervously pg his own fork down, “I uand that you don’t like it, but-”

  I jump as grandfather sms his fist into the middle of the table, a fissure splitting its surfa twain.

  “THAT IS MY ROLE, RICHARD, I DON’T NEED YODDAMN HELP!” Taking a deep breath, my grandfather casually pces another piece of fish into his mouth as if nothing had happened. “If you for some god forsaken reasoo find someoo interfere with, have it be your useless son who ’t even close an already done deal.”

  Crabsp;

  I pale as a chill runs down my spine, everyone in the room turning towards me. My heart begins to race, all the useless excuses I had e up with during my walk here jumping ship. I take a few shallow breaths, shifting nervously in my seat as my mind rushes to find anything I say.

  “I-I…” I frantically look between all five figures, yet I ’t even manage a single word. “I-It was…”

  Before I finish, my brother nontly grabs hold of the versation, pg his fork down as he decres:

  “After we eat tonight Grandfather, I’m to be Eren’s partner on your trip to the Family’s main station.”

  My mother audibly gasps, her gss shattering against the floor. My jaw hangs open mid sentence, but I close it and shut up as the giant man at the ter of the table begins to chuckle, before it turns into a full out belly ugh. When he finishes, he takes a loended sip of his wine before saying anything.

  “You and Haifisch, huh?” He chuckles a bit again, holding his gss out at my brother. “e surprised. I’m impressed you mao do this under my nose, guess we'll be going up there together.”

  I- What?

  They’re going into space? Beyond that, he’s dating Haifisch? The shark-man?

  I watch as my mother, trembling, takes another bite of fish, and six agonizing gnashes of her teeth ter, she pces her fork down.

  “What about your work?” My mother takes a new gss from a server, g it in her hands as they disappear. “You have responsibilities down here, Tristan.”

  My brother scoffs, mung down a k of fish. I quietly gasp when I hear him only chew five times.

  “I just hire someoually skilled at the work you give me,” My brother says, tinuing after he takes a sip of his wine..

  “Tristan, I uand wishing to break away from us,” the man beside me grumbles out, “But you heard father earlier, Samurai are his-”

  Grandfather raises a hand, and my father immediately stops talking.

  “It’s fine in this case.” The armoliath chuckles, rolling the wine around in his gss. “He’s showing initiative to tinue my legacy. I think that’s endable.”

  “Holy, it’s not like either of you stop me,” My brother chimes in, “I’ve been an adult for half a decade and Eren is strong enough that you didn’t even know I was seeing him.”

  I nearly fall out of my seat when my mothers sps the table, jumping to her feet and swiping her hand through the air.

  “UGH! What if you die up there?!” She screeches, “No one would be able to take your pce!”

  “I’ll be fine,” He responds, then tinues “But in the farfetched case something inceivable happens…”

  My brhs, then turns to me. My heart plummets when what’s happening hits me. “You could just have Anthony take my pce.”

  Crack.

  My mother stumbles, then with her hand on her forehead plops onto her seat. A small aura in my eye is a harbinger of an oning migraine.

  “No… Nonono, this ’t be happening, that isn’t how this works…” Taking a shaky breath she takes a sip of her wine before shattering the gss between her hands. “I-I 't have another child, and he’s not my…”

  Everybody in the room, including grandfather, freezes at her words, and my mother visibly hesitates before turning to look at me.

  Crack.

  The aura having enveloped the entire right side of my vision, I shakily stand up, gng over to find Grandfather simply staring down into his drink. Now pletely stuck without dire, nobody else moves. I take a step back, then stumble as I start walking towards the door.

  “T-This, no. N-no, I’m done.”I y arms over my stomaausea washing over me.

  My mother reaches up but doesn’t stand, holding a bloody hand up in some vain attempt to get me to stop, “Wait, Anthony, I didn’t-”

  Without waiting for her to finish, I leave, not b to close the doors behind me. I turn my impnts off with three taps behind my ear, and ial silence I find myself feeling very, very alone. As I re-ehe lobby, I feel a hand grab my arm, but I don’t even turn to see who it is.

  I wrench myself free with little effort, and there isn’t a sed attempt to stop me.

  It’s not long before I click the door to my room shut behind me, log it before I flht onto my bed. My head throbs, and hugging my legs to my chest, I pull myself into a little ball. So that was the truth, the reasoreated me like they did. I had my suspis, but being illegitimate wasly at the top of the list.

  How quaint. I’m just a minor plot point in their fug soap opera.

  As despair begins to storm through me, my sciousness slips, fading in and out for what feels like ay. My thoughts are blurry, an utter i mess that nothing escape from without being corrupted into a blob of ivity.

  When I finally regain some lucidity, I find silver moonlight filtering in through my window onto my face. Groaning quietly, I sit up, then wobble onto my feet before I grab ay gss from atop my desk aer my room’s ected bathroom. Putting it beh the tap, I groggily wait for it to be filled, closing my eyes and downing a small pill while I do. When I feel the water overflow, I raise it to my lips and take a sip.

  Only to drop the y foot, shattering it across the floor beh me as I feel something solid enter my throat, slipping deep into me before I realize what is happening.

  I cough and gag in disgust, then look down in horror at creatures I’ve never seen outside of pictures. A small swarm of tiny Antithesis Model-Sevens wriggle around in the gss as a small puddle of blood begins to form from a nasty cut oop of my foot.

  The world seems to freeze for a moment, as my mask shatters.

  I’m pletely silent as I sm my foot down, and though there is pain, I ’t seem to care about the biting sting as I repeat the a again, and again and again and again. And with each impact, a shard of my facade falls away, revealing the truth of what’s beh.

  One proteg a woman who hates me.

  One proteg a man who's never cared about me.

  One proteg a brother that betrayed me.

  One proteg a grandfather that doesn’t o be saved.

  Finally… One proteg who I used to be.

  I chuckle as I fall bading on my ass as the pain begins to spread. I reach up to clutch at my chest, finding a slowly moving bump heading towards my head. A tradictory haze of terror and relief fills me as I realize I’m about to die.

  At least, in the end, I’m free.

  In the fog, I barely notice a sharp pain in the bay head. That is, until I’m brought back to reality by a sugar-sweet artificial voice with a slight southern swing beamed directly into my head.

  System Initialized!

  Good evening, honey!

  When faced with certain doom, you endured excruciating pain to save those who once oppressed you.

  Through this selfless a, you have proven yourself worthy of strength beyond your wildest imagination.

  My name is Nyvi, and I am the one who will be yuide on this journey.

  Rise, you who have no future, and cim for yourself the fate you deserve!

  Rise, Vanguard, and bee a protector of the weak!

  Aliapanacea