There was something in the air inside West Junction. A sense of alertness, present from the guards on the watchtowers to the ordinary workers cleaning in the kitchens. It reminded in of the pressure building up in a shaken beer can, ready to be unleashed in a fizzy eruption.

Only in this case the beer were the weapons and soldiers of West Junction and the target was Raz and his bandits. Adam had to admit, he didn’t get what the fuss was about Raz until Vicky—one of the girl helping with the interrogation—handed him a transcript. He had to go beat up a few training dummies to lose the mental images. He had been a loiterer, a thief and a bully in Steeldale, but Jesus Christ there were standards, damn it!

Adam took a sip of a beer from a flask. The sun was dimming in the cherry-red sky. West Junction had been preparing for a week, drawing up maps, scouting out the area, performing training exercises. As the Pactbearer, he had been pushed through the wringer alongside Saria. A key weapon, Brigid had said. So far, they had managed to suppress knowledge of his existence outside of West Junction, though it was helped by their remote location.

He had almost made a pact with Lucy. Could control his soul energy and the golden light well enough. It was changed at the last second, since they didn’t know what effects a second pact would have on his fighting ability.

“What a shame.” Lucy had remarked, “We had such a good chemistry going.”

It was getting harder to deny those remarks. It annoyed him and didn’t at the same time, frustratingly enough.

He had thoughts today. Today’s training had been less intensive than usual. The higher-ups knew their force needed some rest before the big battle. The other guys were out mixing and drinking elsewhere. He had joined from for a bit, eating meat on sticks and potato stew, then retreated to this spot behind the farming area for some peace and quiet. Couldn’t drink too much beer—this was his last one, anyway.

“Hey, Adam.”

A voice behind him. Saria.

“Yo.” He raised a hand. “You finished with your prayers?” It was a habit the war maidens did before setting out on missions. Strength and justice, love and hope and all that. He never participated—didn’t feel like it was his place.

“Yeah. Tomorrow, we’ll need it more than most.”

Saria sat down next to him. She had ditched her training gear for a comfortable top and long-length skirt. The cloth was dotted with pictures of planets and space rocks. Must be a close fit to the starry skies of the home.

“You doing okay?” Adam asked.

Saria shook her head. “I’m a real jumble of nerves. I’ve been searching for Maddy for such a long time and now she’s just in reach.” She grimaced. “Stars above, I had a nightmare about us failing, y’know? It’s been hard, Adam.”

“I don’t blame you.” Adam said. “Would be the same if I was in your place.”

“Yeah. I trust Brigid and the others, but I can’t help and think…” She shook her head and slapped her cheeks. “No, this is wrong. Gotta trust in the plan. Gotta keep it together, Saria.”

“If it’s any consolation, Lucy thinks we’ll do great.”

“Yeah, that’s Lucy for you. Always the optimist.”

“So do I.”

“You do?”

Adam shrugged. “I think we did good work together. You’ll blast off the bandits’ heads to kingdom come.” He said.

“Gee.” Saria said. “Thanks, Adam.”

They could call him many things, but he knew when fair was fair. “It’s just what I’ve seen. Ain’t nothing special. Just look forward to seeing Maddy again.”

“Yeah, I’ll do that. I’ll show her all the cool new stuff we dug up from the ruins, maybe even treat her to a sweet drink…”

They sat, watching the sun dim further, as clouds drifted lazily across the dusk sky. Adam yawned. Maybe it was time for him to rest. He was about to get up and leave, when Saria stopped him with a question.

“Hey Adam, can I ask you something?’

“You already have.”

“Was that a joke?” Saria said. She giggled. “That was terrible.”

“Just ask.”

“What was Mary like?”

“Why are you bringing this up?”

Saria’s eyes darted from left to right. She cleared her throat. “I’ve told you so much about my sister, but what about yours?”

“Mary?” Adam asked. “Why?”

“Because, it’s not fair that I’ve told you so much of my history without learning yours.”

“She’s dead. There’s not much else to say.” Adam said, his tone blunt. Since when did the war maidens care about something like history? “I thought I told you through Lucy, anyway.”

“Only how she died.” Saria said, “Y’know, talking about Maddy helped me cope a little when she wasn’t there. But you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to!”

“You really want to hear this?”

“I do.” And she said it without hesitation.

He considered telling her about it. He imagined their conversation.

“She was like the sun. Not that shitty ball in the sky, but the real thing, bright and warm. She always knew how to make me smile.”

There once sat a small girl her back to the door, inside a small department located on a trash-strewn street deep in a city where the run rarely shined. The girl, barely scraping eight, cradled a small, squirming baby in her arms. Behind her, a man and a woman screamed past each other. Something crashed against the wall and the girl winced.

This was happening more and more ever since Mary’s little brother, Adam, was born. She didn’t understand the full story, but his birth was an accident. The phrases ‘Other man’ and ‘Other woman’ were yelled around a lot.

Another child meant more money was needed. For some reason money was hard to come by and when Mary asked, she received a nasty glare in return. It made Mom and Dad angrier, which led to them drinking those special bottles, which made them scream and fight more and hurl things around. Like those bullies who threw rocks at windows.

She stared down at her little brother with dull eyes. It didn’t used to be like this. There were times where Mom would take her out to the park or Dad would play tea party with her. Happy times, ones she would give anything to have back. Now, those memories were fading with every passing day, every bottle thrown, every night spent without dinner…

All because of Adam.

She glanced through the crack in the door. Mom and Dad were in the kitchen, their voices still raised. It would be a while before they calmed down and stormed off to bed. The fridge would be left alone. Mary’s stomach grumbled. Hopefully the leftovers weren’t too old.

She then felt the cloth shift against her hands. Mary looked down in horror as her little brother began to rouse from his slumber. This was bad. If Adam started wailing and their parents found out…the imagery flashed across her head and she grimaced. A slap against her cheek. A door bolted shut. An afternoon staring out the window with parched lips.

She had to do something, fast. Quick! What had those parents in the park done to their crying sons and daughters? They held them tight. They made weird soft noises. They smiled at their children.

Smiling.

Could Mary do that, too? When was the last time she had ever done, that?

No time to think about it further. Adam was waking up. He made a little high-pitched yawn and blinked at her with a set of small, beady eyes. A second passed as the siblings stared each other. Here went nothing.

Mary smiled.

It was rigid, like the walls. It was contorted, like the branches of a dead tree. It was forced, like the words Mom said whenever she wasn’t yelling or swallowing those strange pills.

And yet, Adam did not cry. Instead, he smiled back, copying his older sister. He raised his tiny little hands, as if waving to her.

“Hey, little bro.” Mary murmured, reach out with her own free hand. Adam’s little fingers wrapped around one of her own. He felt so soft, she realised. So delicate. If she wanted to, she could grip with her strength and crush those little arms and ruin them forever.

That would make wail like no tomorrow, though. Instead, she kept smiling.

“You’re small. Really small. Tiny. Was I like that, too?”

She rocked her little brother back and forth and cooed at him in her little spot. Adam continued to gurgle and smile back. He seemed to like whenever she talked, even if it was nonsense. Gradually, her movements became easier, more relaxed. The argument in the background faded away, like the background static of a forgotten television.

Warmth surrounded her. Mary looked up and saw the sun had moved further down the horizon. Sunset was approaching. She had been holding Adam for quite a while. She looked down and saw that Adam had gone back to sleep.

She had done her job. Her parents had gone silent. She could steal as many leftovers as she wanted now.

So why was she still holding and smiling down at her little brother?

“Adam.” She whispered. The name no longer felt heavy or ugly. She said it because she wanted to. “Oh, Adam…”

Her heart stirred in an unfamiliar, gentle way that brought tears to her eyes. How could she have blamed this tiny baby, her own family, for the turmoil in her household? He didn’t ask to be born, just as she didn’t ask for parents that fought all the time. She remembered the thought about crushing Adam’s bones and felt sick. Even sicker was the realisation of what Mom and Dad might do if they caught him wailing in their current state.

Maybe, she thought, maybe she could keep doing this. Keep smiling at Adam. Hold him until he would walk on his own, then teach him how to live. If Mom and Dad weren’t willing to take care of their youngest, then she might as well step up.

She needed to get something to eat. And for Adam too, she hastily corrected. She slid open the door a crack, then crinkled her brow in confusion.

Why was the front door open?

Why was Mom lying on the floor?

What was that liquid flowing from her body?

“Did you have any other family?”

“Fuckers ran out on us when I was born.” Adam snorted. “Mary didn’t like bringing it up. It was one of the few things that made her angry. Now, it was just the two of us.”

He could see it in his minds eye. Mary nursing him in a dingy room atop moth-eaten blankets. Himself making a cry of glee as their new apartment was handed to them.

“It was just the two of us. She did odd jobs to keep us stable in the orphanage. She was the strong one. Always knew what to do. Always had a plan whenever I cried, got hungry and stuff.”

Mary soon recognized the orphanage didn’t have enough resources to keep herself and Adam afloat. The rooms were the same quality, but she couldn’t take food or spare cash whenever she wanted. Adam began needing more things—food, toys and books—as he grew up.

So, Mary became resourceful. Girls like her weren’t born strong. She was useless in a physical confrontation and they all knew it. On the flip side, it meant society underestimated her.

She walked into a thrift store, pretending to look among the shelves. The clerk barely paid her a glance as he went back to reading his magazine, unaware of Mary stuffing baby clothes down her blouse. Then, that night, she went behind the store and picked whatever she could from their garbage bins.

Convenience stores threw out lots of unusable product. Unusable meaning it was past their expiration date by one day. It was good enough for Mary. Stale chips and old drinks weren’t the healthiest of foods, but if she removed the labels and sold them at the nearby public school, nobody noticed.

Money became important. Had to keep herself and Adam healthy. Had to pay for protection by the gangs and groups lurking among Steeldale’s youth. Had to find leverage in case life went south. When she was thirteen, she walked up to one of the groups of girl delinquents with their smokes and nail bats and smiled at them.

“Hi, I’m looking for work!”

It started with small jobs. Deliver them chicken and curry from down the roads. Shine their boots. Distract the police as they hid in the alleys. Those only returned spare change. Then, as Mary proved herself, they started giving her better jobs that paid more. Watch the hideout for a day. Steal notes from that nerd over there. Pretend to be that girl’s friend and lure her over to the nearest alleyway.

“Wait, this is—”

“Found you, damn bitch!” The delinquent slammed the bat over the target’s head, sending her crumpling her to a floor. Before she joined her friends in kicking the girl down, she handed over a few paper bills to Mary. “Thanks, kid. Keep up the good work.”

Mary tuned out the victim’s cries as she walked away, just as she tuned out the other children in the orphanage. She was ruining someone’s life with each job. Hurting them, in ways that she would never wish upon her little brother. What else could she do, though? Steeldale was selfish down the core, she one of its many fragments upon its roots. She had to look out for herself and her brother. Nothing else mattered.

Her body transformed as she grew. Became fuller, curvier, rounder. The men—other delinquents, boys in high school, even teachers—looked at her more often. In a perfect world, she would’ve had the luxury of not facing them. Her jobs demanded her interact with them.

She tried to shake off the feelings. Ignore the creepiness radiating from their leers. Forget the disgust in her mouth as she delivered packages from drug dealers to their seedy victims. She never let herself be alone with a man, not without an escape plan.

It was tiring. At times, she wanted to quit. Tell Adam that she was sorry she couldn’t get him new clothes this year.

But whenever she went back to their room and saw Adam jump up and run over her, a big smile on his face, she smiled back and knew it was all worth it.

She fought. She endured.

Her graduation couldn’t come soon enough.

“I wish I was born in your world, Saria. The Goddess takes care of everything, yeah?”

“That’s mostly true, yeah.”

“Then she would’ve taken care of Mary, too.”

In another world, Mary and Adam were born beneath the grace of Astraea’s Goddess. They still had abusive parents, but the Disciples would discover their error and send them off for cleansing. Mary and Adam would be placed inside a state-sponsored orphanage, where they would receive healthy food, education and care.

Mary would learn the ways of the Goddess and aspire to become a War Maiden. She would be given the chance to dream, for once. Adam would attend an ordinary school and make ordinary friends in one of Astraea’s ordinary metropolises. He would still rely on his sister, but she would not leave him prematurely. She would find a stable path up while he would learn the proper morals.

Mary would try for the War Maiden exam. She would pour her heart out studying and training. This time, Adam would be the one to take care of his sister as she worked. The fateful day would come. Mary would go with confidence and leave with triumph.

“I don’t want you to leave.” Adam would confess on the night. “Can’t you stay?”

“I’m sorry, Adam.” Mary would reply, “I wish I could take you, but the training camp doesn’t allow minors. We can keep in contact with our comms, though! They’ll let me use it once a week.”

“That’s not enough!”

“It is what it is. Be strong, alright? Do it for me, Adam.”

“…okay, Mary.” Adam would sniffle. Because if Mary said so, then it must be right.

Mary would go to camp. She would meet Lucy and Saria as fellow trainees. She would integrate herself into their training group and the girls would support each other. Eventually, they would pass after much hardship, attend the ceremony and begin work as War Maidens. She would have to leave on missions to other lands, though she always would make time to write to her little brother. Her letters would contain fantastical stories about the various locales she visits, the adventures of her fellow War Maidens and the grand battles with their corrupted foes.

Never about the trauma and horrors of war. Adam would never need to know that. Mary would shoulder that burden for him. She would make herself smile whenever she got the chance to visit Adam, so he could enjoy what leave she had.

One day, Mary would bring her new friends home. Adam would open the door of their apartment and gawp at the two other War Maidens next to his sister.

“Are you Mary’s little brother?” Lucy would cry. “Goodness, you’re so cute!”

“Geez, Lucy, give the kid some space.” Saria would say. Then again, it was how Lucy first reacted when she met Madeline.

“Mary, did you bring a predator home?” Adam would ask, pointing a finger at Lucy’s now shocked expression, causing Mary to laugh out loud.

The siblings, Lucy and Saria would share a meal and a chat. Later on, Saria would bring over her own sister, Madeline, and Adam would get to know her. True, this is not the happiest of endings, as the path of a War Maiden is fraught with danger. The future is always uncertain. But at least Mary and Adam are together here.

It is not reality.

The reality is that Mary sat on a train with a trepidation in her heart. She wondered if Adam would be okay at home while she attended her latest job interview. She pondered if there was enough food inside the fridge. She hoped the interviewers wouldn’t look too hard at her record during the ordeal.

As the train passed the latest stop, Mary closed her eyes. She might as well take the chance to rest. She would need the entirety of her energy in the interview. She dozed off in a gentle lull, dreamless and still receptible to the sounds around her.

The carriage suddenly shook. Mary was jolted awake. There was the sound of metal creaking and snapping. The world tumbled around as something lifted the train and shoved it sideways. As passengers screamed and luggage was flung everywhere, Mary scrambled for the emergency exits, crying her brother’s name.

She smashed the door open with the emergency hammer. Something stared at her from the other end that made her heart sink. Her vision turned red and—

“She was the greatest person I ever knew.”

God, he was not going to cry. Not in front of Saria. She’d just make fun of him. He needed to be strong.

He really wanted to visit her grave.

Designation: HMN-089 OBJ-086

Risk Class: N/A

Hazard Types: Psychic

Environment Protocols (Outdated): OBJ-086 will secrete particles of the red substances related to MON-101. It will also lower the temperature of its containment unit over time. The threshold of this effect ceases at around 13.7 °C (56.7 °F).

OBJ-086 should be stored inside a standard OBJ containment unit, altered with the same protocols as the MON-101 entities containment chambers. OBJ-086 should be checked at least once a day for any changes in its behaviour. All employees interacting with OBJ-086 must be equipped with the same outfit used in handling MON-101 entities.

Description (Outdated): OBJ-086 is the corpse of Mary ██████, who was confirmed deceased on ██/██/20██ in her home in Steeldale, ████, America. The corpse demonstrated signs of heavy gashing and wounding, though the reason was never discovered.

Shortly after being transported, OBJ-086 began demonstrating its anomalous properties, described by the morticians as ‘voices filling their heads’ and ‘a strange red mist’ floating around their workspace. They alerted the authorities. An agent embedded in the SteelDale police force managed to intercept the transmission and confiscate OBJ-086 before law enforcement could examine it. The morticians were then memory wiped and given the MON-101 vaccine.

OBJ-086 has the property of transmitting visions to those who touched it, similar to OBJ-076. However, all reports of these visions describe them as distorted and incomprehensible. Several reported having mild nightmares after interaction.

Work Notes: All unresponsive.

Resonance: N/A

Addendum: OBJ-086 was confiscated by a mysterious individual on ██/██/20 ██, five months after discovery. Camera feed shows a humanoid clad in armor stepping out of a rift in space, hauling the corpse over their shoulder and stepping back in. Security were unable to apprehend them in time.

After the incident, more of the red substance was discovered in the chamber. OBJ-086 was granted the N/A risk level and moved to the Archives.

Yes, he thought about telling her these things. He wondered how she would react if he poured his heart out this much. Was she the right person to do so? Would Mary even want that?

He decided no. There was a time and place for everything.

“She was the only person I cared about in Steeldale. Then she was gone.” He ended up telling Saria, “That’s it.”

“I see…” Saria said. She sounded disappointed. She then forced a smile and patted him on the back. “It’s okay, Adam. I understand.”

“Worry about your own sister first.”

The sun was dimming. Night approached. They headed back to the dorms, tomorrow’s mission on their minds.