Liszt felt her eyes snap open as she was met with darkness. The kinetic alarm on her wristwatch had jolted her awake, but she still felt the tendrils of exhaustion pulling her back into the overstuffed sheets.
4:30 AM.
She yawned, Lili was still deeply asleep, curled up in her nest of stuffed animals and pillows. Liszt composed herself and after a few moments of bodily protest, she scurried back to her room in a flash. She made sure to ready her apron ahead of time this year.
She checked herself for any imperfections before taking a deep breath and putting on her headphones. Liszt popped open the expansion port on her music deck, and inserted an old military grade flash storage device. As Liszt clicked the flash drive into place, the opening notes of Un Sospiro filled her ears; The music of her namesake, and the favorite piece of the woman who raised her.
A familiar voice rang out. *Lt. Pimento, Guardian of the Marble Sanctum. I do solemnly swear this to be my living will, for the ears of my next of kin, Liszt.*
Liszt could make out Pimento’s stifled laugh through the tape hiss.
*Formalities aside, when I first enlisted they made us all record messages. If anything happened, we weren’t allowed to have regrets. We would say our piece and go out into the fold. Most people made them out to their families. My old tape was to my younger siblings. But that one is long gone now. No matter. That was a lifetime ago.*
Liszt had the timing down to the second. Every step in line. It was her 5th year doing it. She slipped through the halls, her steps silently as she glided through her home.
*I was the second oldest, but I was the one who took care of the rest of them. My parents weren’t… ideal, and Clair lost her hand in a farming accident when I was a toddler. So I had to pick up the slack. That whole experience made me never want kids of my own.*
She weaved through the residential halls and the echoey, ghost like archways. The halls were wide enough to March a platoon of soldiers through, or house thousands of refugees. But instead it was the six of them.
*But, they’re all gone now. At least the odds are so insignificant that they could’ve survived even the initial blast, much less the last 12 years.*
Priceless tapestries lined the halls, like ghosts of the old world. Many of them were well worn from being climbed by children. Some were intentionally defaced, and not all by playful children.
As she passed a familiar tapestry, she paused for a moment. The title placard had been defaced, and the once beautiful gilded portrait of a knightly angelic figure was sodden, every inch of painted flesh and armor charred and vandalized.
Through the grinding marks, one (with additional context) might be able to make out the words, “Brigadier General Eir: Supreme Commander of the Southwestern Valley Region.”
*But even knowing that pales in comparison to the thought of losing you. And I swear, as long as Basil and I still have breath in our lungs, we will fight for you.*
Liszt never got an answer as to who committed the iconoclastic debasing, but the portrait itself was magically bound to the wall. It was a decade-long project to try and remove the eyesore, but no amount of self-taught Fey magic or post-collapse technology that Nyx dreamed up managed to do the trick.
It was a monument to mankind’s follies, a memorial of a long dead Demi-god. And so, violating an idol of a false, self-proclaimed living saint was about all they could manage collectively. Erasing all traces of a monster was easier said than done, especially one as heinous as Eir.
*Sorry it took so long to tell you. I promise it wasn’t personal. But I’m sure you’ve figured it out by now-*
As she turned the corner into the main kitchen she noticed the lights were already on. She felt embarrassed, wondering if she’d been the one to do it, or perhaps the irresponsible lot had left them on after cleaning up the dishes. Lost in thought, she yelped loudly in surprise as she entered the kitchen.
“Mornin’.” Asmodeus stood stirring a saucepan, his right arm still in a sling.
To say the place was in shambles would perhaps be a slight over exaggeration. But the well organized and meticulously laid out tools that Liszt had prepared were scattered across creation, as Asmodeus juggled multiple stages of dishes.
“W-What’re you doing awake?” Liszt asked, composing herself. Her voice was still scratchy from the morning air.
Asmo gestured at the calendar with his ladle hand. “It’s pancake day.”
Liszt fought back an eye roll. “Oh. That’s news to me. Not like I haven’t been doing this every year for half a decade.”
Asmo paused. He’d inherited Basil’s habit of opening one’s mouth to speak, before smothering the sentence before it could escape. He seemed to physically swallow the intended words, before clearing his throat. “Sorry I gave you trouble yesterday, I owe both you and Pim at least this much effort.”
“You hate cooking.” Liszt’s words stabbed at him suspiciously. She hated having her rituals disrupted. Work was easy when you had something to keep time to, having the rebellious one around compounded with her looming sleep deprivation.
Asmo ignored the hostility. “There’s a fresh pot of coffee over there. It’s the blonde roast you like so much. Nyx was really proud of those beans.”
Liszt begrudgingly poured herself a cup of the good stuff and cleaned a mug of it in one go. The second one she savored. The coffee phenotype was one of Nyx’s passion projects. Nyx didn’t drink coffee, but she knew what the morale boost meant for the rest of them.
“Glad I made a double batch,” Asmo chimed cheerily. “I can hate cooking, but that doesn’t mean I’m terrible at it. We had the same teacher.”
He stirred as he spoke. “As much as she deserves more honoring and recognition, making sure pancake day goes smoothly is the least I can do.”
Liszt conceded. Her timing was already ruined, she had to make the best of it. “I’ll never figure you out. Now move over.” She muttered.
Asmo laughed. “If you get remotely close, let me know. I’ve been spending my whole life trying to figure myself out.” He looked up from his saucepan to study Liszt’s movements. As she headed to the pantry he called out, “I have the marionberry compote almost done, you pre-prepped the chocosauce right?”
Liszt paused. “Yeah. Same as every year. Guess I don’t need to use the pantry-”
She looked over at her prep counter and saw it covered in flour and sugar particles. There was a mixer purpose built to feed an entire platoon of soldiers crammed full of prepared pancake mix.
“The pancake batter is over there. I increased the protein amounts in the batter along with enriching them with extra iron and potassium. Should make it… easier on Lili’s stomach this time.”
Liszt felt a pang of frustration well up within her. She’d already measured out all the ingredients for exactly what they needed, and instead Asmo turned everything into another one of his experiments. It was an excess of pancakes for their needs. And on top of that, she still had to sort out the mess that Asmodeus had made in the kitchen.
“Oh. You know. I mean. I have my recipe figured out…” Liszt felt a confusing mix of emotions. Part of her wanted to encourage Asmo to be more proactive, and he was not one to respond well to scolding or criticism. But he had stepped into a world that he knew little of. And her face did little to hide her rage.
Asmo glanced over at the powdery mess on the counter and then back to his sister’s expression. He grit his teeth anxiously. “oh… Right. Sorry.”
“I’ll just, take this off the heat and just-” He hurried off to the supply closet and quickly began sweeping and wiping down the prep area. “…Sorry if I’m stepping on your toes. I just hate to see you working so hard by yourself every year. Especially after yesterday.”
Liszt looked over his work and began checking the consistency. “I appreciate the help. It’s just…” to her absolute shock, it was the exact consistency of her own batter. She checked it on the pre-heated cast iron pan that Asmo had set up, and it had the same cook time and thickness of her typical recipe. It still cut cleanly with a knife, but had a fair bit more resistance than she was used to. But when she took a bite, it was unmistakably familiar and comforting. “How did you-?”
“Your recipe was perfect, I just used math to calculate and compensate for the substitutions. I made twice your usual batch since I figured Lili could actually eat seconds this year.” He spoke as he polished the workspace.
“It has a bit more density to it, and will definitely have more chew, but it shouldn’t affect the cooking time or weight too much.” Liszt said, analyzing the batter.
As much as Asmo could get on her nerves, Liszt was in no position to argue. “I can’t help but feel you’re butter me up for something?” Liszt mused, still uneasy.
“No. I’m just tired of seeing you tired,” Asmo muttered, while still stirring with his off-hand.
“I never said I was tired,” Liszt replied, still more suspicious of her brother.
“Oh. Wait. Crap. You heard that? Sorry, I'm not used to people actually… listening to what I have to say,” Asmo said, slightly embarrassed.
“I mean, yeah we live with Basil… and Lili, and Vie… Ah. Yeah, no, That… that explains a lot.” Liszt mused.
“You’ve been one-upping yourself every year for the last half-decade. You’re almost as bad as I am when it comes to asking for help.” Asmo struggled to find the exact words for the situation, before finally resigning himself to bluntness. “So, if I’m in your way, then just give me a job to do once I’m done reducing this sauce. Other than that, I just want you to stop stressing so much.”
“Maybe if you stopped over sharing and started listening, you could’ve figured this all out sooner,” Liszt said, barely above a groan.
“I’m sorry,” Asmo said blankly. “You know that’s just how I am. I can’t change that part.”
Liszt sighed. “Can you chop the fruit salad? I actually enjoy making the pancakes,” Liszt said, cracking a slight smile to try and ease the situation.
“Roger.” Asmo scurried off to the industrial refrigerator and began weighing fruit.
“And don’t think you’re off the hook from last night. You still owe me one.” She muttered.
He nodded without looking up or speaking. When he was focused, few things in Hades or Terra could break him from his trance.
Liszt felt a warmth of pride for the boy as she returned her headphones to their proper position.
“-but I’m not going to be around forever. No one will be here forever. I’m just leaving a bit sooner. And I know I might be playing the part of the villain here. But I never meant to hurt you. I just needed to go through this myself. You would know. Neither of us were the type to ever want to ask for help. And-“
She felt a tapping resonate on the steel counter. Asmo stared at her, the rest of the dishes were packed.
Asmo signed to her that it was time to go, and Liszt nodded. She usually had the headphones out by this point, but she needed the timing to line up with the sunrise.
“I just wish you knew how much I love you, and that I could say it to you every day, and I’m sorry. We both know how this story ends, Liszt...”
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