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Arc X.1 | Chapter 30: Interlude | Project Piketown Infiltration 30

“Hey… you sure you’re okay?”No, Mikhail wasn’t okay, but unfortunately, this wasn’t something he could tell his girlfriend. Ciara was always so good about not pressing for details about Division 30, and if he told her that had happened with one of their members, she would let him leave it at that.

Mikhail didn’t want to leave it at that. He to tell his girlfriend all about Emilia. There was a list within his head of all the stories he wanted to share about her. Most notably, he wanted to tell Ciara that his friend was at holding grudges, and that as a result, dozens of the people who loved her were descending into the city. They would make her ex suffer in a way they had never been able to make Daniel McIntyre suffer. Mikhail wanted to join them—something impossible, as he was both with his girlfriend and the raid had already started—and it was annoying that he couldn’t.

The worst thing? Emilia had told him he didn’t need to keep her secrets from Ciara.

he could remember her saying. It had been a few weeks after he had begun dating Ciara and he and Emilia had seen each other more often. They had always seen each other, of course.

—that was another thing Mikhail could remember his childhood friend saying. It had been back when the war had first ended. At the time, Emilia had rarely been seen outside of her rooms in Norvel. Occasionally, she’d come out, gaunt and shaking with hallucinations most of the time. The various people who had assigned themselves to watching over her had always lingered nearby, minding her mind and abilities.

Even though things had been rough for her, Emilia had never left him without her aid in managing his Censor. So, Mikhail kept her secret, only telling Ciara that someone she knew was a non-public Division 30 member. Emilia’s secrets weren’t his to share. His girlfriend accepted that. It was his way of offering Emilia a little dollop of protection, and it hurt to not be able to protect her now. Logically, Mikhail knew she was protected, Darrian sharing the occasional photo of her sleeping within the PVP raid. His friend looked so small within the syn’s arms—small and as broken as Mikhail knew her to be inside.

They had all been broken by Halen’s death, but Mikhail could remember her in the aftermath. His brain refused to latch on to the manipulations of the clones; so, he remembered. It meant he couldn’t join virtual raids often, only Zavriel able to make him forget anything for short periods of time, before inevitably, the memories would return, his brain rejecting the majenstra’s powers as well.

So, he remembered it all.

How the war ended—not that Mikhail understood much of the of that begin with.

The truth of what had happened with Coral—the reality of the covetous eyes she had found glued to her.

Emilia, not thinking or speaking or moving for centuries after Halen died—Mikhail didn’t think she ever would have moved, had her memories of loving Halen not been ripped away from her.

Seeing her like that, his own heart cracked open by his friend’s death as he watched the girl he had loved so dearly fall apart…

It was the sort of thing that haunted Mikhail, even thousands of years later. If he could go back, he would smack Halen upside the head! The idiot had questioned Emilia’s love for him so often, thinking it nothing compared to the longing she had for Olivier, Rafe, the triplets. Mikhail had held her in his arms as they spent centuries within the Virtuosi System, trying to snap her out of it.

In no world had Emilia not loved his friend with an endless passion, despite the fear that had laced over him for so much of their relationship. Halen had feared that Emilia would leave him for someone better. In the end, it had been that fear that had led her to Daniel McIntyre and the trap of his .

“It’s… complicated,” Mikhail finally said, turning a smile down at the small little woman Emilia had sent his way, years ago now. Ciara had been a surprise, his heart long ago given to another. Then, like so many other loves, it had been stolen by the war, and even if he had long ago moved past his wife’s death, Mikhail hadn’t imagined falling in love again.

In the background, as with so many of his memories of Emilia and the lives they had often shared in Norvel and Crishar, children screamed and laughed in the background. This particular memory was newer, the Emilia within it a little lighter as she smiled out at the children over the glittering white sands. It was so like their home, a continent away, it was impossible not to think of their own youth.

Sunshine shining down on them and casting all their sun darker. Freckles popping up on all their cheeks and noses. Hair bleached lighter. Swimsuits fibres straining under the rays and salt of the ocean. Sweet treats, dripping sticky sugar over their chins. Stolen kisses. Codeth’s blush and Emilia’s dishevelled hair when they’d slip away to hook up. Halen being chased down by Emilia for one reason or another. Sand between their toes and fingers and under their tongues. Scraped knees, banged elbows, sunburnt noses. Games of kyra, the cards held down by skills or rocks. Smiles—so many smiles it made his heart hurt to think of how happy they had been, once.

Mikhail had replied, reaching out to tuck a piece of errant hair behind Emilia’s ear.

Emilia had cut in, her jaw shaking, eyelashes a rapid blink. Just bringing up Halen, despite the vibrant hatred Mikhail knew her false memories had planted within her, was always nearly enough to bring her to tears.

Porsq had once called it, his own bright-blue eyes spilling over with tears. The little boy who had long ago become a man had pulled his knees in closer, the Shadow of Jinkai’s fingers brushing through his hair as they sat in front of Harlow’s cell, Emilia fast asleep in Harlow’s lap because they were all liars, pretending their friend belonged down there.

Mikhail had loved Rinie. He knew he had. She was his past, however. Every year, he sat at her grave—a set of two, even though the child that had been growing within her had been only weeks old—and he got drunk, high, cried into the lap of whoever had come to sit with him. Emilia was usually there. Jerrial had finally been talked into coming a few years back, although Mikhail knew the Lüshanian man still blamed himself for all the deaths that had occurred that day. Codeth came—Coral, when she’d still been around; Polianna now that she wasn’t. The kids came, snuggling into him, Calvial especially, her father’s grave only a few tombstones away in the field that was now home to all those who lost their lives that day. The now-teenager’s father had died a little later, surviving his injuries, only to be too injured to defend himself properly from an attack days later.

He might as well have died with Rinie; yet, if he had, so many of the kids he had died protecting would have been dead as well.

Rinie was dead, and Mikhail mourned her, but it had never been the sort of love Emilia had for Halen. A couple decades in the time skew, and he’d been fine—sad, but as fine as someone’s whose wife and unborn child had died could be.

Emilia would never be fine, but she had still tried to date. It had never been a secret that Elijah Richmond was nothing more than a university fling. In no world would Emilia be heartbroken by their breakup, but the things that man had said to her? The things he had allowed his roommates to say to her? Then, to keep her locked in with them?

Beside him, Ciara shifted, nervous. It wasn’t something Mikhail could blame her for, his abilities sparking uneasily. Rudely, one of his functions for controlling the abilities he had finally managed to figure out during the years before the war had started malfunctioning a few days ago. This was his recompense for not dealing with it days ago: Helix was on Above the Clouds; Alaric was and Mikhail wasn’t convinced he was getting his messages; Rafe wasn’t responding to his messages; and Emilia was asleep on an exclusive airship. In other words, he’d need to go to the Ridge Rind to get it sorted—except, Porsq had vanished! Into the raid, everyone was assuming.

Bristol could help him, but the Head of the Ridge Rind had informed him that the researcher— who had been covering for Emilia for a long while—wasn’t taking her video and the surge of criminals coming after them well. It seemed that Bristol blamed himself for not doing a better job of convincing the continent that he was the Division 30 member behind so many of Emilia’s innovations? It was somewhat unclear. In no world would Emilia have ever wanted Bristol to put himself in danger like that. Within the Ridge Rind, everyone was as protected as they could be—a little less, with Porsq not there, but still in one of their strongholds. Still, Emilia would feel terrible if anything happened to Bristol when an attack should have been aimed at her hit him instead.

Regardless, everyone who could fix his Censor malfunction was currently busy or missing. While Lennon had been learning more and more about hacking recently… Mikhail wasn’t sure he trusted her to deal with such a sensitive function.

“Sorry,” Mikhail bit out, trying to pull his abilities under control. The last thing they needed was to call more attention to their unit when he suddenly blew up a portion of Astrapan. It wouldn’t be a big portion, but—

A hand smacked into the back of his head.

“What are you doing?” a dark, sleepy voice asked, so familiar that even had Mikhail’s Censor not already informed him that Rafe had been the one to hit him, Mikhail would have known.

There wasn’t a single childhood friend whose voice Mikhail wouldn’t immediately recognize. Even Simeon’s rarely used voice existed there, in the back of his mind.

“Thank you,” Mikhail said, smiling brightly at his childhood friend. Did Rafe consider them anything but Definitely not. Mikhail still thought of him as a friend—although, had Rafe been ignoring his request for aid with his Censor?—especially considering how they, along with Taelor, had spent those long centuries together, trying to pull Emilia together. It hadn’t worked, but it was impossible for him to spend so much time with someone and not consider them a friend… or occasionally an enemy.

Plus, out of everyone—outside of Halen’s closer friends and the kids—Rafe and Taelor were two people who remembered the most about what Emilia and Halen had really been like. Olivier and Darrian remembered, Mikhail often thought. Some of their friends sometimes remembered, before their memories were tucked away once more. Most never remembered, or had never known to begin with.

Having memories so different from so many of the people he knew was often difficult. So, of course, Mikhail would be closer to those who did, even if most didn’t usually like him back. Mikhail had accepted long ago that he wasn’t the sort of person to ever have a million friends. That was okay. He had a few best friends—Codeth and Emilia, Porsq and Zavriel—an handful of people who mostly liked him, and a bunch of people he considered friends but knew didn’t like him back, like Rafe.

It was okay. He would continue to consider Rafe a friend, even if the other boy simply glared all the harder when Mikhail’s smile widened.

“Uhm… hi?” Ciara said, reminding Mikhail that, while his girlfriend had met many of their unit’s public members, Rafe was… not non-public, but so rarely seen that few people knew who he was.

“Ah~ Ciara, this is one of my childhood friends, and another Division 30 member,” he said motioning in Rafe’s generally grumpy direction. Huge dark circles etched under his eyes, making him look even worse than usual. Darrian had mentioned that most of the skills Emilia had designed for her new friends had been approved by Rafe. There had also been a few functions, sent to them by Rafe, for dealing with the virus that had been causing some of the local staff at the clubs to behave oddly the last few days.

In other words, the man probably hadn't slept much in well over a real-world day, which likely stretched into several years or decades within the Virtuosi System.

Rafe was, in the end, a workaholic. Even within the time skew, Mikhail knew he rarely slept. That wasn’t so much the man’s love for his work, however; instead, Mikhail knew he had struggled with insomnia since breaking up with Emilia.

For ten-thousand years, Rafe had rarely been able to sleep more than a few hours at a time. Guilt, eating him alive. A would have gotten over it long ago. Just like Emilia would never get over losing Halen, Rafe’s black knot would never allow him to get over hurting Emilia, especially when it was clear she would accept him back, if only he asked.

“Hi!” Ciara cheered, always bright and happy. “I’m Ciara Knivar!”

“I assumed,” Rafe said, more conversational than he usually was. “I’ve heard a lot about you— Don’t look at me like that. I can be polite and make proper introductions.”

Mikhail wasn’t actually sure that had been true until this moment. Still, he managed to not burst out laughing, instead going along with his friend’s lies. “Yeah, I suppose the Laprises-Baxter-Hyrat families are known for instilling good manners in their children.”

“The… what?” Ciara asked. Her throat bobbed. Her weight shifted.

Generally, the more… off-putting members of their unit avoided meeting outsiders. Sometimes, that was inflicted by society—such was the case for the clones, Porsq, and Olivier, who rarely showed to those meetups that included outsiders. Other times, it was something more —something about their abilities that put people on edge. Moriana was a bit like that; regardless of which of her personalities was in control, the girl felt a little The girl was someone touched by the aether, and everyone could feel it, even when they didn’t believe in such things.

“Yes, this is Rafe Laprise. He’s Andre Laprises’ older, twin brother—that makes him the middle brother, who is rarely seen because he’s a workaholic.”

“And doesn’t work for The Black Knot,” Rafe added, although they both knew it wasn’t so simple.

“Oh,” Ciara said, perking up because she had misunderstood.

“Rafe still has a black knot,” Mikhail told her, watching her deflate once more. At least she wasn’t running off. That had happened with a few of the girls he’d dated briefly during the first few years after the war ended. All it took was a clone wandering up to say hi before they were bolting off, never to be seen again. Now, he always told the girls he dated that he had black knot—and Black Knot agent—friends before starting anything serious. If they showed any signs that they wouldn’t be able to adapt to being around such people, Mikhail broke things off.

So far, Ciara being a little awkward was the best he could have hoped for.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, figuring that showing his girlfriend that Rafe was a more-or-less normal person—at least, as far as Division 30 members could be —might further help her nerves settle.

“ asked me to come save the lollibobs,” Rafe sighed, already turning towards the forest and beginning to walk away.

Beside him, Ciara perked up, her fingers tightening around Mikhail’s hand. Her huge, light-green eyes met his in silent question. The smallest of smiles pulled at the corners of her mouth.

Well, on the other hand, Rafe being a child who couldn’t say no to Emilia might endear him to his girlfriend. Plus, helping Rafe might also help Mikhail’s own soul settle a bit, as long as he could do to support Emilia.

“Come on,” he said, tugging Ciara along, the two of them hurrying after Rafe’s vanishing form.