“It’s fine, it’s fine. Seriously, don’t worry about it,” Sláine groaned, neither physically nor emotionally prepared to reassure a being whose capacity for self-identity she already couldn’t wrap her head around.

"What's fine?" came Red’s voice beside her, genuinely confused in a manner contradictory to her normal personality. Sláine indicated the air before her with a vague gesture, desperate for a spatial qualifier to assign to the not-voice inside her head.

"Aria. They're blaming themselves for my horrible, debilitating illness."

Trying to quench the impatience bubbling up within her, Sláine touched her markings and [ Inspected ] the ground. As strange as it was to think of an omnipresent entity as acting childish, Sláine could only picture Aria as a well-behaved kid having a meltdown after breaking their grandmother’s favorite vase.

[ It's a floor. Don’t sass me! You almost passed out! That could have been really, really dangerous!!! ]

"Maybe, but it wasn’t your fault. I asked for it."

"It's true," Red chimed in. "Don't feel bad because you got bullied by the [ Berserker ]. Happens to the best of us."

For once, Sláine was grateful for Red’s flippant trash talking. Though uncertain if Aria could even see the gesture, she nodded in agreement and checked for a reply.

[ Inspect ] -> [ Floor ]

[ It's a floor. I work with people in your situation all the time! I should have known better!! ;w; There are so many different ways I could have helped you out, but I choose to give in because I was overwhelmed by multiple people asking for my attention at the same time. I didn’t think enough and made a mistake. It’s my fault. ]

"What're they saying?"

"More apologies and stuff about their distorted sense of responsibility. Look, Red's right, I wanted a shortcut, and I would have kept pestering you until I’d gotten what I wanted. I learned a lot from it and the only consequence was a crappy headache. Okay? Stop feeling miserable when I'm the one who ignored your advice."

[ Inspect ] -> [ Floor ]

[ A floor. Sláine, you’re in my care. It’s my responsibility to keep you safe; it’s my duty to protect you all. ]

Sláine had to physically restrain herself from rolling her eyes. "What are you, my mother? Everyone seems to call it ‘raising’ a Protocol; doesn’t that mean we’re the ones bound to protect and serve you?”

[ Inspect ] -> [ Floor ]

[ A floor. It’s not that simple. Our purpose for existing is to give you the power to fight for your world. And, okay, maybe some of my brethren don't care about whether you get hurt in the process... but I do. I was born to care. ]

Sláine reached up to rub her head, unable to even begin processing a proper response. She still couldn’t understand how different pieces of the same god could even have disagreements, but her head ached too much to pursue such philosophical quandaries.

It was Red who relieved her of that burden, speaking up with an oddly… affectionate slant to her voice. Maternal. "Hey now, neither of us are mad at you, alright? Nor do we think you did anything wrong. Everyone makes little slip-ups in judgment, and I'm sorry I yelled at you earlier. I was just surprised. It was a learning experience for everybody, so don’t beat yourself up. Everything’s okay."

Watching Red speak in such a comforting tone made Sláine briefly wonder if she’d gone mad. Comparing the woman who’d gently fretted over her to the crass, belligerent person who’d greeted her that morning was… well, it was hard to believe they were the same person.

She must have [ Inspected ] something to get Aria's reply, because Red let out a whoosh of a sigh and began to say, "Well, they've settled down a bit now. So, let's — "

As the mask angled towards Sláine, her sentence concluded with an abrupt snap, and she could hear the scowl twisting across Red’s mouth. “Hey, what’s that for? Wipe that weird smile off your face."

"I think you're the only one with a weird smile here, Red."

Reaching out, Sláine gently tapped the painted line of Red’s mouth, and the woman let out an ugh that would do any rebellious teenager proud.

"Figures a cottontail would have a head full of cotton to go with it. Regardless," Red stressed, not giving Sláine the opportunity to pester her about her perpetually endearing racism. "We should head back. We've gotten a bunch done, so it's not like it's a waste, and you look pretty beat."

"I thought you wanted to explore more of the area that's changed?" Sláine inquired, thinking back to the intersection Red had seemed so taken by before.

“Not like this! We don’t know shit about what’s coming up. We’ll go make our report and someone else will follow up.”

“That’ll just give the monsters time to regroup. We must have made a substantial dent in their defensive force; that’s why the worker mites were trying to escape with their eggs, right? I imagine they’re all retreating to the deepest parts of their hive, so as long as we withdraw before then, we’ll be fine.”

"You are so stubborn," Red snapped as she crossed her arms, and Sláine kept pushing.

“I’m stubbornly practical. Besides, the headache is already going away. I’ll be fine.”

"Mmph..."

Red sounded anything but convinced, but after mulling over the matter, she turned her palms up in defeat. "Fine, fine. You win, but on one condition."

Narrowing her eyes suspiciously, Sláine asked, "And that would be...?"

"You're going to rest up a bit more," Red said, and then tucked her legs beneath her to form a platform from her lap. “Here. I even have a pillow for her proud and royal highness! You certainly seemed to enjoy it before.”

Sláine could only imagine that the mask’s wide grin perfectly mirrored Red’s actual expression as she patted her lap, and from the singsong of her voice, Sláine could also only assume she was being made fun of.

But you know what?

"Fine, if that's what's needed to placate you," Sláine replied, and let it never be said that she let any challenge go unfulfilled.

“Wait, wh — ” Red began, but Sláine had already flopped down, catching herself by her elbows and easing the back of her head onto Red’s lap. Her periwinkle hair streamed across the woman’s legs, cradling Sláine’s face and draping around her shoulders, and as the mask stared down at her, Sláine unblinkingly returned the gaze.

Despite literally having gotten herself into a staring contest with someone wearing a mask, Sláine maintained her imperial superiority.

"Wow. You're really going for it, huh."

"I'm just indulging you."

Turning her head upwards, Red could do little but admit defeat, and instead kept her attention on the room’s entrance. “If you fall asleep,” she grumbled in a way that edged between grumpy and bullying. “We’re leaving.”

"I won't fall asleep."

And with that, silence fell between them.

As a rule, Sláine hated stillness. Any moment she spent not throwing herself forward into the next task could be easily claimed by disquieting thoughts, things she’d left her homeland to discard. That earlier moment, that brief minute of an exhausted body seeking respite? It was so antithetical to her very being that she’d shoved it away with every ounce of her admirable willpower.

She thought nothing of warmth now; no longer did she desire to bask in the rays of the sun.

This though, lying here, for some reason it wasn’t something she hated. Perhaps the founding conceit made it acceptable, the knowledge that it was merely another facet of the pair's continuously needling dynamic. This wasn’t for Sláine’s own enjoyment. It wasn’t like she needed to take a break.

She was just harassing Red. That’s all.

…And closing her eyes?

Simply a small mercy offered to her partner as she said, “You’re surprisingly responsible, you know.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Red snapped, though Sláine knew she’d deny it if she accused her of actual defensiveness.

“Mm, you didn’t come very well recommended. Miss Amelia claimed you were a lunatic.”

There was an odd silence, enough to make her open her eyes, and as Sláine looked up, the lack of facial expression forced her to focus on the other things. The tense slant of her shoulders, the way her fingers idly drummed against the concrete floor, how that mask was angled away from her, perhaps keeping watch or — perhaps — finding herself reluctant to look at the woman resting her head on her lap.

It struck Sláine once more just how thoroughly she'd concealed her figure, with her cloak, high necked collar, and the length of her unkempt hair making it impossible to catch even a momentary glimpse of the skin beneath.

...Though, from this position, shouldn’t she at least be able to see the underside of her chin? But for some reason, her eyes couldn’t really focus on —

“We have professional disagreements,” Red muttered, the crisp tone cutting through Sláine’s thoughts. “And she’s welcome to think whatever the hell she wants about me. But being an asshole doesn’t mean I’m an idiot. I’m pretty attached to staying alive, thank-you-very-much, and I don’t plan on getting killed in some shitty, bug-infested dump.”

“Mm, that wasn’t exactly what I meant.”

“And what did you mean?”

Sláine wasn’t sure how to say it. The woman’s consideration in training her, bringing her to a place that she was confident about... Dealing with the Fear's monstrous creations required one to balance on a thin line — to be afraid of them only increased their power, yet to lack fear of them bred overconfidence. What could be called boldness one moment became arrogance the next, and the price of such mistakes was high.

But Red thought about these things seriously, and everything she’d seen from her so far showed her to be a cuttingly practical person.

Nor was it limited to combat. How she treated Aria, the ways she chastised Sláine, her attempts to explain things in a manner she thought the [ Berserker ] would understand... the impression Sláine had of her wasn't so simply defined.

Eventually, she settled on, “Self-preservation and responsibility are different things.”

Responsibility, after all, included far more than just responsibility towards the self.

Red snorted. “Well, if I let the idiot battle-bunny get herself killed, then I’d never hear the end of it.”

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll own the consequences of my actions.”

“Yeah, tell that to meddlesome lil’ shits like Yora.”

It was Sláine's turn to let out a soft huff of a laugh, and still looking up at her, she couldn’t help but wonder what Red was thinking about.

...The rarity of such curiosity didn't occur to her at all.

>> Rest up, then press forward