My dry throat gets the better of me and I let out a cough while in the process of getting my bearings. Holt hurriedly pours me a glass of water from a pitcher placed on a nearby table. I accept the glass from her and take in the furnishings of the room I am in. Rows of cots have been lined up against the wall, some with people sleeping in them, but the bulk are left empty. There are a few tables and chairs scattered about, but the decor of the room, or more accurately, dorm is rather scanty. The centerpiece of the room is a portrait hanging from the wall, portraying the Divines together as a group at a banquet table. Regina sits at the head of the table, with her sisters around her while priestesses serve them a feast.

"Thanksgiving." Holt notices me looking at the portrait and idly comments.

"Pardon?" I start, roused from my musings, "What was that?"

"That picture. Its a print of 'Thanksgiving'." Holt explains, "Painted to depict humanity thanking the Divines for their bounty. The original was kept at the Arcology before the Coalition took over."

"I don't think we'll be seeing the original anytime soon, then." I grunt while Holt solemnly nods, "This place isn't the hospital. There's no smell of medicine of disinfectant about. Where are we?"

Holt distractedly turns to a television nearby as it screens some program or other and mutes the volume. She was probably watching the TV before she fell asleep.

"Cathedral living quarters." Highest Scorer yawns again, "Like I said, things have been busy while you were sleeping."

"This isn't the living quarters, it looks too nice." I object, my memories as a levy coming back to me. Its not overcrowded enough for one, and too neat besides. The place I was provided as a levy could be best described as a pig sty. And that's someone who has seen a pig sty and actually played in it as a girl.

"Communal dorm for the priestesses." Holt shrugs, "The hospital had you moved here after the surgery. Said you needed to be observed."

"What surgery?" I bark in alarm, feeling at the bandages wrapped around by chest, "And what happened? Why did I need to be moved?"

"The bayonet nearly hit you in the heart." Holt shudders, "I heard the doctors say the knife managed to scrape it. You were bleeding everywhere and needed surgery to get your arteries fused shut."

"Ugh." I grimace, reflecting on the near death experience. Just a centimeter more and I would have been killed outright. That unknown pilot was not playing around.

"By the way, Lieutenant," Holt turns aside as she plays awkwardly with her long hair, "Thanks for saving me back there. I would, well, I wouldn't be talking to you right now if you hadn't intervened when you did."

"Uh, its fine, my pleasure." I cough again, trying to mask the sudden change in atmosphere, "I wouldn't be much of a lead investigator if I didn't look out for my partner."

"Thanks. Just thanks." Highest Scorer says plainly, her eyes no longer displaying that signature sullenness she usually has towards me.

"So what was the other thing that happened?" I get back to the topic.

"The Fallen attacked the Citadel." Highest Scorer replies.

"What!" I jerk up in alarm before a sour sensation ripples through my chest. I quickly settle back into the bed, I don't want to open the wound or get internal bleeding.

"Its fine! Its fine!" Holts proclaims, "We won. Regina came through for us and we achieved a great victory. Look, the TV is screening a recording of the battle's climax right now."

The recording on the TV shows a giant elephant, made out of the same inky black substance that comprise the Fallen and the size of a ship, stampeding across the open field that's just beyond the Citadel's walls. Valkyries and Auxilia buzz around the elephant like flies, hammering away at the class A fallen with their weapons. But nothing they throw at the beast fazes it. Swords, cannons, missiles, it doesn't matter, the elephant just tanks the lot without even bothering to change the direction of its charge. As the smoke from all the expended munitions clear, what's left on the Fallen's obsidian hide are insect bites rather than actual wounds.

The elephant raises its trunk and begins spraying a gout of flame from it, scattering the flying bulwarks and lighting up those unfortunate not to get out of the way in time. Then the massive Fallen thunders onward, straight at the Citadel's wall. The walls glow with golden divine light, as the elephant takes a swing with its pair of tusks, hitting the structure with an enormous crash. The golden light flickers briefly and a few small cracks spread across the wall. But the light blazes again, this time with blinding intensity, forcing the giant Fallen to take a few faltering steps backwards.

"Why weren't the defense guns on the wall firing?" I ask Holt, curious at how the battle took this turn, with a Fallen being able to just charge the wall without danger.

"Ran out of energy." Holt whispers quietly.

Things had become that serious? I restrain the rest of my questions and keep watching the footage.

The elephant levels its trunk at the wall, and opens fire with its bizarre equivalent of a flamethrower. The divine light begins flickering again as the elephant really pours it on, with parts of the rampart beginning to melt from the temperature. There's a sudden jarring cut in the recording and the next scene I see is of a bone white bulwark lunging off the wall with its jets blasting away at full power.

"Cathedral knight." I murmur.

"That's what I heard as well." Highest Scorer answers.

The knight draws a pair of swords in mid-flight and performs an extravagant cross slash, slicing off the elephant's trunk. As the Fallen rears backwards in pain, the bulwark rockets right through one of the elephant's eyes, piercing the organ neatly with the twin swords. A few seconds later, there's an explosive tearing at the elephant's anus as the bulwark erupts out of it. The Fallen sags to its belly, bleeding black ichor from its rear and eye before popping like an over inflated balloon. The bulwark flies back to the ramparts and the pilot dismisses her machine, revealing a tall, well proportioned black woman with a dashing appearance and steely expression on her face.

"That really happened?" I ask Holt, more than familiar with how the propaganda arm of the Citadel works.

"The last shot was probably staged," Holt leans close to me, "but it all happened more or less the way it was presented."

The pieces slot into place from Highest Scorer's unspoken words.

"You were there weren't you?" I query, "The Citadel activated the second line combatants. That means the battle was far uglier than what they were willing to admit."

"Yeah." Holt nods unhappily, "Everything went well at first. The active troops sallied forth to contain the incursion. But the Tears of Iros kept falling. More and more Fallen joined the fight. The defense guns could keep the Fallen at bay for a while but -"

"They ran out of energy. You told me." I grunt, "There was a rout wasn't there? That's why the film was cut in that way. The camera was panning over the battlefield and you would be able to see the army in full retreat."

"Not so loud." Holt hisses with a finger to her lips, "We're not supposed to talk about it. Would hurt morale. But that's what happened. The giant Fallen shattered the intercepting force and charged at the wall, until that Knight took care of it."

"Then what happened?" I whisper back, not wanting anyone else to hear this conversation.

"Officially, the Fallen invaders collapsed at the sight of the Knight's gallantry." Holt replies, "The truth is that the reserves counter charged the remaining enemy. The Yellow Roses were part of the second planned wave, but the reserves managed to end the battle with the help of the Valkyrie survivors."

"That's the closest the Fallen have ever gotten to the Citadel ever since the wall was built." I murmur.

"We won, and that's all that matters at the end of the day." Holt slumps in her chair, "There were too many casualties though, sending the hospital over capacity. And that's why you were transferred here by the doctors."

"And you've watched over me ever since?" I ask, "Well, thank you for that."

"Not all the time," Holt waves her hands in an embarrassed denial, "I'm just taking over from the Lay Mother Superior. She's been the one taking care of you all this while."

"Oh." I answer flatly, a complicated feeling arising from the depths of my heart.

"So cold." an elderly voice rings from the entrance of the dorm, "And here I was changing Olivia's bedpan. No appreciation these days. Hmph."

Holt hurriedly rises from her chair and bows deeply to a rotund woman dressed in the robe of the priesthood. The priestess draws back her hood, revealing a round bespectacled face that looks much younger than it should be as she comes to a stop at my bedside.

"I fed you porridge too my dear."the priestess grins cheekily.

"Lay Mother Superior." I acknowledge the priestess politely.

"Olivia." the Lay Mother frowns, "And here I thought you were never going to visit."

I sigh to myself resignedly. What was the saying? You can never go back home?

Well, you can never go back home.