“You worry too much, Saeb,” Lily chided as she swung the cloak around her shoulders. It wasn’t a battle cloak, she was not a warrior, but it offered some shielding if she ran into trouble. Not that she would wear it during the negotiations.

“Take this,” Saeb said, pressing a small silver leaf into her smooth palm.

“I told you, they will scan for Nost tech at the summit.”

“And your bodyguards will have to leave their totems at the door,” he said. “You will be defenseless. This will at least take the form of a dagger and it is shielded, no scans will detect it.”

“And if they discover it, what kind of message will that send to the others?”

“That you are cautious around Shu murderers,” Saeb said.

“What about the humans, Saeb? They are convening at the peace summit as well. It has taken years to reach this point. Years to negotiate the terms of a summit between all three empires. And under those terms, we will leave battle cloaks and weapons outside. These are peace talks. Jode has promised to dissolve the farms and erect more compassionate facilities for the humans in his territories.”

“We negotiate the terms of his empire but do not demand the liberation of his slaves,” he said.

“Saeb, we have been demanding their liberation all these years with our blood and sacrifice. And yet, the Shu farms still exist. And the human empire suffers even more since they fight on two fronts.” She took his face into her hands. “My dearest, our satellites have seen the construction of new buildings from orbit in the Shu kingdom. I have to believe we can make a difference and they’re building these to replace the farms. We must do what we can when we can. We must open our minds, no matter what atrocities the Shu have committed, it will never end until we all sit down and talk.”

“Shu lies. You’ve never fought a Nostmara or met a Shi in the streets, watched it slit a comrade’s throat, or—.”

“Saeb, we must—”

“This summit comes at a convenient time for the Shu, does it not?”

“Saeb,” she dropped her hands and hardened her rose-colored eyes, “we have been over this—”

“We have been in talks with the human empire,” Saeb went on, “they are finally willing to work together. They have sent emissaries to Mytharel to discuss an alliance, and we have sent Shen to Baindel to discuss a way forward with them. Why else would the Shu suddenly open themselves to a peace summit? They are afraid we will unite. And now we, the fools, are meeting the serpent in its own lair to talk about peace just as we finally find a way to kill it. With a human alliance, we could—”

“What?” she asked. “We can spill more blood? Destroy more cities? Create more human orphans?”

Saeb flinched and her eyes softened. Just a few months ago they were discussing adoption and now they were caught between a peace summit or an alliance that would surely bring the war surging back. After three hundred years, the empires existed in an uneasy stalemate and none of them were eager to tip that balance. That was before the emissary arrived from Baindel, seeking an alliance. Saeb was excited and ready, but the politicians hesitated, understanding that an alliance with the human empire could lead to more bloodshed. The Shu would not look upon the alliance favorably. And not a week later, the Shu finally agreed to peace talks. The Shen council debated furiously. Some who had lobbied for an alliance with the humans dismissed the Shu summit offer as a farce, insisting that the Shu meant only to derail the alliance between the Shen and human empires.

In the end, Millae entertained the idea of the alliance with the humans by assigning enough Shen to the negotiating table to make it legitimate while assigning Lily and her team to go to the offered peace summit. She was trying to play both sides. Saeb furiously argued with Millae and the council against the summit. Those politicians had never fought the Shu up close, never stood amid a human camp surrounded by bodies and barrels of human flesh. They didn’t understand. But they ignored his objections. It was time to strive for peace; he was told, even if they must meet the enemy in his own land and accept his slavery and genocide. They could affect a change in the Shu empire from within, some reasoned, once they could gain access to the hearts and minds of the Shu. Saeb withdrew then, quietly preparing his forces. What the fools on the council didn’t understand was that the Shu had no hearts and their minds were twisted, focused only on their own genetically superior race.

“The Shu are monsters, the humans are—”

“We will negotiate the terms of peace and make their lives better,” Lily said. “A little at a time.” Saeb made a sound deep in his throat. He recalled the smell of rotting flesh and chemicals. Lily glared at him as he blocked her mentally. He always raised his defenses when they talked about the camps or one of his flashbacks erupted. “Maybe I haven’t seen the camps first hand,” she said. “But I know even if we form an alliance with the humans, we may not defeat the Shu.” A hint of steel crept into her tone. “They have pushed back every advance for the last decade and have control of more cities than both the Shen and human empires combined.” Saeb winced at her sharp words. “This is the only way. We’ve discussed this.” She softened her tone and pressed her forehead against his. “And at the summit, mighty Shen warriors from your Army of Light will surround me. Even without totems, they are not to be reckoned with lightly. And we will broadcast the meeting to every feed in each empire’s capital. The world will watch, what can the Shu possibly do?” Saeb closed his eyes, pushing down his fear. She would never understand.

Jack became aware of himself with a jolt and screamed in the dead man’s mind. Lily’s cries exploded in the surrounding darkness as if echoing back from a future these Shen had not seen yet. This isn’t real, he thought. He imagined his chest ripped open and his heart torn out as he looked at his Lily one last time through Saeb’s eyes. She is not my Lily, she never has been. My name is Jack Blackwell. Still, his desire swelled and his despair grew so deep that he could barely form thoughts. He drank in her face through Saeb’s eyes, willing this last moment with her to never pass.

Saeb bowed his head. “The council has voted and Millae has willed it,” he whispered. Then, raising his voice, said, “May the light shine upon you and the fortune of creation grant you strength.”

“And you, my bonded, ONUS is the light, and Millae the fortune that grants strength.”

Of course, she would offer the traditional response. But to Saeb and his warriors, the ancient salutation had come to mean something different. After three hundred years of battle, the light shone through their own will to fight, and the fortune of creation was as random as the violence and murder on the field. Just because Millae flipped the switch on the replicator bay and brought their OLU bodies online, didn’t mean she was the creator. Jack screamed again. Screamed at Saeb to stop Lily. Screamed at himself for bowing to the council’s will. He had the power; he was the general of the Army of Light. He could save them all…. but he didn’t. He failed her; he failed everyone.

Moments later, Lily walked across the short grass of their perfectly manicured courtyard and stepped onto the airship. Looking back at him over her shoulder, dark curls swaying, her bright rose-colored eyes shone with excitement. OLU eyes, the eyes of a slave, Jack thought. Or was that Saeb’s? As the door to the sleek airship slid closed and the craft rose from the ground, the General of Light clutched the small leaf tightly in his hand, imagining the dagger it formed piercing his heart. Why was she so stubborn?

He turned and stalked toward his own airship, a small two-seater with a clear dome canopy set into a sleek silver body. She would be at the Shu capital in a matter of hours. He had to hurry. Sensing his approach, the canopy slid back. Once seated, he placed his palm on the smooth control panel and imagined the capital building. The craft was coded to respond only to him. Usually, he liked to fly manually, but today, he would let it carry him. He needed to contact his commanders and solidify plans that hopefully would never come to pass.

The craft rose from the pad silently, as if lifted by an unseen hand. The propulsion system buzzed quietly as it accelerated toward the towering city. He needed to be in the control room before the delegation arrived at the Shu capital. He would watch every detail and scour the screens for threats, and his informants would report to him in real-time. It was his only course of action during the summit. But if things went wrong, his forces were in place, subtly maneuvered so they could… he shook the thought away. She would be fine. He took a deep breath as the spires of Mytharel passed below him.

Maybe she was right, the world would be watching. What would Jode dare do in front of so many? Surely he would not risk the wrath of both empires if he was concerned about their possible alliance against him. Any act of aggression would make the alliance between the human and Shen empires a certainty. And together, they would rain destruction down upon the Shu. Lily was smart and strong and surrounded by his best warriors. All would be well. And after this, maybe they could reclaim some kind of normal life. Maybe adopt that human child. He reached back and tried to remember life before the war, but couldn’t. Three hundred years was a long time, even for a Nostshen. Sometimes it felt as if he had always been fighting. As if he was born from war. Only his bond with Lily grounded him, kept him from being consumed by the violence, reminding him that long ago life had been different.

As Saeb contacted his commanders, Jack seethed in silent rage behind the dead man’s eyes. He caught glimpses of the massive city below. Mytharel, the thousand-year-old capital of the Shen, stretched out for miles. Jack imagined it burning, like the rest of the world. But it wasn’t his imagination, he knew, it was a memory. The end of everything. Lightning from the sky and beams of hellish heat. The Isle of Song, which was not an Isle yet, would survive. Before the Burn, it had been a research campus in the city center. He pictured the vast underground lab below the complex and green spaces above.

Many years ago, the Organic Network Update System was brought online in that labyrinth deep below the city. After that, ONUS burrowed into the earth, using the surrounding matter to expand and grow. How long ago had that been? There had been no ONUS when he was brought online. Only the small city and the two surviving replication bays. Now, source code was in the trees, soil, rock, and especially crystal. The most powerful Shen biotech used the crystal as a conductor. My first totem used a powerful crystal created by Millae, Jack thought. No, not my totem. That was Saeb’s brutal weapon.

And this is not my world, he thought. This is no one’s world now. The Shen and their guilds, bickering over policy and politics, were devoured by fire. The council hall and its members, sitting above the guilds, passing judgment, burned like the lowest human. All of Mytharel lost at the bottom of a new ocean. Except for the research campus, the Great Lab would survive, whispered about for thousands of years as the Shen quested to find it. Later, Jack saw in Saeb’s memories, the foolish Shen would create the Pool of Consciousness on the Isle of Song, a connection to the heart of ONUS and the Lab. Even after the Burn, they still wanted to sing the world and mettle in the affairs of humankind.

“I’m so sorry,” Jack thought, but the words came out of Saeb’s mouth and he wondered if he was apologizing to the humans or if he was sorry for failing Lily and burning the world for her.