Aquila sat on the couch in the Camp Asaka barracks common room, Kasumi at her side, and resisted the urge to go into a fetal position. Everything had gone wrong. Everything.

    On the couch beside them Cap and Yuri sat holding hands, both looking dejected. To the other side were Sayori and Yukari. Around them stood Leora Deutschland and Lady Meliana, a creation introduced to them as Hancock Weiss in an old fashioned shirt and waistcoat who looked as though he was from some sort of steampunk story, some civilians who appeared to be creators, and group of military officers, one of whom was American.

    “So, let me get this straight,” Meliana said. “You’re a creation like Balthazar, and you waged your own war against the world of your creator around nine years ago.”

    Aquila nodded, unable to meet her eyes.

    “She’s helped save millions more people than she ever hurt,” Kasumi declared. “Whatever she’s done, she’s atoned for it.”

    “And you’re her creator,” Meliana stated, looking at Kasumi.

    Kasumi glared at her. “And proud of it.”

    Meliana turned back to Aquila. “And I look just like this magical knight you killed who led the other side of your war.”

    “Murdered,” Aquila mumbled. “I murdered her.”

    “And none of you were created by this world,” Meliana finished.

    “It’s very unlikely,” Aquila said, her voice barely more than a whisper.

    “Well,” Leora said, drinking from a water bottle. “That’s different.”

    “The procedure says we have to get their names, powers, and stories,” one of the Japanese officers said.

    Meliana sighed. “Yes, it does. As much as I hate to admit it, these procedures do make sense. Let’s start with the American here.”

    Out of the corner of her eye, Aquila saw Hancock take out a pad and stylus.

    “I was a superhero,” Cap said. Aquila could swear that she saw Yuri give it a momentary squeeze as he said the word ‘superhero’. “I went by the name Captain Infinite. I was probably created sometime in the 1930s. I’m bulletproof, I can fly, I’ve got super strength, hearing, laser eyes...I’ve got a lot of powers.”

    “That sounds like Ultimate Man,” the American said.

    Cap stared at him. “What kind of name is ‘Ultimate Man’?”

    The American shrugged. “What kind of name is ‘Captain Infinite’?”

    “A damned sight better than ‘Ultimate Man’.”

    The American gave him a condescending smile. “Whatever you say, Cap.”

    “Captain,” Cap said. “You can call me ‘Captain’.”

    “Why?” the American demanded. “Is that some superhero name thing?”

    “It is my rank,” Cap stated, his voice going cold. “Captain, United States Army, 42nd Rangers, serial number O-2293764, commissioned April 7th, 1944. I fought my way across Europe and helped liberate it from the Nazis. What have you done, lieutenant?”

    The American hesitated. “Iraq and Afghanistan were both over by the time I was commissioned.”

    “I see,” Cap said. “And your name, lieutenant?”

    “James Heller, US Army Intelligence.”

    “Moving on,” Meliana declared. “Who’s next?”

    “I’ll speak for us,” Sayori stated. “The three of us are from a harem comedy. We don’t know the title. It was set at a private school named Blue Lotus Academy here in Tokyo. We were the harem.”

    “And your names?” Meliana asked.

    “Yuri Nakano, Yukari Fujii, and I’m Sayori Sakamoto,” Sayori said, motioning to each one as she spoke their name. “The friend we’re looking for is one of us. Her name is Natsuki Toshiro.”

    The Japanese officer who had previously spoken sidled up to Meliana. “There’s a character type that shows up sometimes in harem stories. It’s called a–”

    “Yandere,” Yukari said, sighing. “I’ll save you the trouble. There was a yandere, and it was me. But Aquila, Kasumi, and Cap saved us from our story before I could hurt anybody, and I’ve worked through it all. I have never hurt anybody, and I never will.”

    “You’ll understand that we need to schedule you for a psychological evaluation, just in case,” the Japanese officer stated.

    Yukari nodded sadly.

    “No, we won’t,” Sayori declared.

    “Sayori, it’s okay,” Yukari said. “For all they know, I’ll see some guy I like and turn into a violent psychopath. If this is what it takes to make them comfortable–”

    “It is not okay!” Sayori snarled, turning on the Japanese officer. “It’s been four years since we were rescued from our story world, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let some shithanger malign my best friend! Yukari won’t even carry a pocket knife! We’ve been through too much to tolerate that. Part of our surrender was the right to legal counsel, correct? You put Yukari through a psychological evaluation, and I’m calling in that right, so that I can sue you for damages. How dare you!”

    The Japanese officer sighed. “I guess you’re the tsundere.”

    Sayori glared at him. “A tsundere is mean towards people she can’t admit that she likes. I think you are human trash.” She turned to Meliana. “How soon can you get that lawyer here?”

    Meliana sighed. “The terms of the surrender were for defence counsel if criminal charges were laid. Civil counsel was not part of the deal. That said, I have read and seen my share of harem stories since I got here, and I have never seen a yandere act like her. No evaluation is necessary.”

    “That’s not your decision to make,” the Japanese officer said. “Base security is our jurisdiction here.”

    “If she actually hurts somebody, then you can send her for an evaluation,” Meliana declared. “Until then, we’re going to take these people at their word.”

    “We can’t do that,” the officer stated. “A potential yandere is a massive security risk.”

    “Everybody please stop!” Yukari demanded. “Sayori, I am okay with this. I’m not a yandere anymore, and they’ll discover that once they evaluate me.” She turned to the Japanese officer. “All I ask is that you get over with as soon as possible.”

    Meliana stared at the officer. “This can be done today?”

    The officer nodded. “I’ll make the call as soon as we’re finished this debriefing.”

    Hancock Weiss stared at his pad. “Well, they’re right. We have no records in our database of these creations. They were created by another world. Those physicists we consulted will have a field day with this one.”

    “Please,” Aquila said, “we just want to find Natsuki and get out of danger. That’s all.”

    “We will help you find your friend,” Meliana stated. “But, you’re going to have to consider the fact that if we can figure out how to track people from the story worlds, the other side can too. And if she hasn’t made contact by now, she might be in Balthazar’s hands.”

    Aquila put her head in her hands and tried not to cry.

    “...and if Balthazar has her, we will get her back,” Meliana added. “Whatever it takes.”

    Meliana’s coat called out in a cheerful ringtone.

    Leora grinned at her. “You going to answer that?”

    Meliana shook her head. “We need to–”

    Leora’s grin widened as the phone rang again. “Your creator is going to get really annoyed at you if you don’t answer that.”

    Meliana sighed and pulled the phone out of her pocket. “Yes? I can’t right now – I don’t get off work for another hour and a half. Absolutely, when I get off work, we can have some fun together. We’ll play however you like. Okay. I love you too.”

    Aquila, Kasumi, and Cap traded confused looks.

    “Um...” Meliana began. “I guess I should explain that. The relationship between creator and creation here is often very parental, and mine is no different. My creator, however, has a wife and three children. His wife also welcomed me into the family as a daughter, and is very grateful to have me, particularly since they can use me for free babysitting during all of their date nights, which I’m fairly sure they weren’t doing as often before I got here. His six year-old daughter and ten year-old son adore me, and my creator gave little Benjiro my telephone number, which he calls at least twice a day. His fourteen year-old daughter sees me as a rival, and never tires of telling me how I’m not as cool as Atria Silverspear.” Aquila heard the door open behind her and somebody step in. “Of course, then Atria Silverspear showed up, and my life became truly complete.”

    “She’s in hell,” Hancock said.

    “I am not in hell,” Meliana stated. “I am merely enjoying the rich family life that was not provided to me by my story.”

    Hancock grinned. “That translates to: ‘Help me, I am in hell’.”

    “I’m sorry I’m late,” Aquila heard Atria Silverspear say behind her. “I’ve been investigating those small pieces of charcoal across half of Tokyo. They’re definitely from the story worlds, although I don’t have the foggiest idea of why they’re showing up here.”

    “That was our fault,” Yukari said sheepishly. “Sorry.”

    Atria stepped forward into Aquila’s line of sight. She was wearing a navy pantsuit under a light blue double-breasted military style overcoat. “Yukari Fujii? What are you doing here? And why were you scattering pieces of charcoal across Tokyo?”

    “Our friend Natsuki fell into this world,” Yukari replied. “We had to use the charcoal to chart a safe path across a bunch of holes into the information stream.”

    Atria took a deep breath. “Okay, that explains the charcoal, I guess. That may be the least strange explanation you bunch have ever given me...” She stared at Meliana. “Wait a minute – this is what you used my new procedures for? To capture a bunch of refugees?”

    “Be proud,” Leora said. “They worked well.”

    “Of course they worked well!” Atria snapped. “I wrote them. But they were supposed to be used to identify and contain potential combatants, not refugees!”

    “I take it they were your source of information about Balthazar,” the Japanese officer stated.

    Atria knelt by Aquila. “Yes, they were. And I’d hoped they had gotten to safety. Good heavens, you look worse than when I left you.” She glared at Meliana. “What the hell did you do to her?”

    “I didn’t do anything!” Meliana replied. “I remind her of somebody she killed in her war.” She blinked. “Wait a minute...what do you mean, ‘worse than when I left you’? What did you do to her?”

    “I did my job as a professional officer,” Atria snarled. “I talked to them in a refugee camp after I had ensured their safety from the battle I was about to fight. I didn’t take them into the heart of a military camp during a time of war – very noble of you, by the way.”

    “They might give us an advantage against Balthazar,” Leora stated. “We had no way of knowing until we actually talked to them.”

    “I’ve proposed several plans for dealing with Balthazar,” Atria said. “You keep turning them down.”

    “Three of them involved blowing up buildings in the dead of night!” Meliana protested. “We can’t shell buildings in the city of Tokyo! There are limits to what we are allowed to do!”

    “You can’t take Balthazar when he’s got his guard up!” Atria snarled. “You have to do this covertly, or at least take him by surprise or he’s going to kill whoever goes up against him!”

    “Welcome to Camp Asaka!” Hancock declared. “It can be combative!”

    Atria and Meliana stared at him.

    “Somebody really needs to lock you two in a room until you start actually listening to each other,” Hancock said. “But since nobody here can do that, can we perhaps finish up with these poor people?”

    Meliana shook her head. “Fine. You’re right.” She turned to Aquila. “You said that there were many creator worlds creating story worlds, yes?”

    Aquila nodded.

    “And those all of them had wars like ours?”

    “Most of them, yes,” Aquila said. “Not all of them were against somebody like Balthazar or me – some of them were against devil kings or gods.”

    “And the ones against somebody like you or Balthazar,” Meliana started, “what did it take to win them?”

    Aquila stared at her hands. “A miracle. I’m sorry, but it was never possible without a miracle happening and convincing the other side to stop. Something like bringing Kasumi back to life. Otherwise, the person like me always won.”

    Meliana took a deep breath. “I see. In all of these wars, did anybody ever try to just sit down with the other side and talk it out?”

    Aquila blinked and then shook her head. “I don’t think so, no.”

    “Then let’s try that,” Meliana said. “We’ll send a message to Balthazar requesting a cease fire and the opening of negotiations to bring this war to an end.”

    “Now wait just a minute,” Atria began. “If you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking–”

    “Yes, I am,” Meliana declared, glancing at Atria, and then getting on her knees in front of Aquila. “We are going to need a mediator who Balthazar will respect, and who can stop him from just killing anybody who shows up. And the only person who can do that is you, Aquila. Will you agree to do this?”

    “You don’t have to!” Atria barked. “Aquila, you are not obliged to do anything here!”

    Aquila closed her eyes and took a deep breath, pulling up her legs and wrapping her arms around her knees. “Yes,” she said, her voice barely louder than a whisper. “I’ll do it.”

    “Thank you,” Meliana said.

    “I want it on record that you are knowingly putting a refugee in harm’s way,” Atria stated. “This is highly unethical!”

    “Your objection is noted,” Meliana said, then turned to Leora. “Contact the Wildcard, and have him pass on a message to Balthazar’s side. Tell him that we want to talk, and are willing to suspend all operations during negotiations so long as he will do the same.”

    “And you won’t tell me who this ‘Wildcard’ is,” Atria said.

    “If we told you who he is, you’d put a tail on him, he’d get spooked, never speak to us again, and we’d lose any chance of ever talking to the other side,” Leora said.

    “Along with any chance of finding his new base,” Atria declared. “You really think he’s going to talk to us? He’s winning.”

    “And we’re losing,” Meliana pointed out. “You heard what Aquila said – the only way to stop him is a miracle, and we don’t have one. All that’s left is to convince him to stop, and for that we need to talk to him.”

    “He doesn’t have a reason to talk to us,” Atria said.

    Meliana looked at Aquila, who hugged her knees as Kasumi cradled her. “With her in the picture,” Meliana said, “he just might.”

NEXT: “Hostage”