Aquila awoke from dreams of slaughter to find Kasumi sitting in the chair beside her hospital bed, gazing out the window. The morning sun streamed through it, casting a warm light over her blankets.

    Kasumi gave her a smile and squeezed her hand. Aquila smiled back and tried to rise, but her muscles failed her. She frowned.

    “Let me,” Kasumi said, pressing the button on the side of the hospital bed to elevate the angle. “You were shot in the spine. They told me that they managed to remove the bullet without causing paralysis, but you’re going to need physiotherapy to regain your mobility.”

    Aquila sighed. “At least I remember what happened this time,” she said, her voice weak. She frowned again and slid her free hand under the blanket. “There’s a tube in my chest.”

    Kasumi squeezed her hand again. “That’s to provide drainage for your lung. You were shot there too.”

    “I was careful, Kasumi,” Aquila said, a tear rolling down her cheek. “But they got me anyway. And...and the villain came out.”

    Kasumi nodded. “I know. You did nothing wrong.”

    “Yes I did,” Aquila stated. “The villain came out. I tortured two people.”

    “But you didn’t kill them,” Kasumi pointed out. “And they ambushed you, not the other way around. You went there in good faith, and they didn’t.”

    “They still didn’t deserve to be tortured,” Aquila said.

    Kasumi’s expression hardened. “That’s a matter of opinion.”

    Aquila tried to take a deep breath. It hurt. “Is Yuri okay?”

    “As far as I know,” Kasumi replied. “When Yukari and Sayori visited earlier, they told me that she is expected to make a full recovery, just like you. They also told me that Cap hasn’t left her side. I think she’s in another room. Apparently the JSDF arranged for both of you to get private rooms.”

    “Makes it easier to guard us, I guess,” Aquila mused. “And Natsuki?”

    “I haven’t seen her since the waiting room.”

    Aquila stared at her hands. “She saw the villain come out. I...I don’t think...I’m pretty sure I’ve lost her as a friend.”

    “You don’t know that.”

    Aquila shook her head sadly. “You didn’t see how she recoiled when she saw me.”

    “You have never kept your past secret from any of them,” Kasumi stated. “She’ll understand.”

    Aquila stared at her. “Will she? Now that she’s seen it, will she really?”

    Kasumi glanced at the doorway. “Why not ask her yourself?”

    Aquila turned to look. Natsuki stood in the doorway, the expression on her face nervous and uncertain.

    “It’s okay,” Kasumi declared. “You can come in.”

    Natsuki stepped into the room, her eyes full of trepidation.

    “There’s only one chair,” Kasumi said, standing. “I’ll leave you two alone for a few minutes.” With that she left the room. Natsuki took a deep breath and then sat down where Kasumi had been seated.

    “I’m sorry,” Aquila said. “I never wanted the villain to return. But, I failed.”

    Natsuki gave her a fragile smile. “I’m sorry too. I let Balthazar use me to get you.”

    “I owe you an explanation,” Aquila began.

    Natsuki shook her head. “No, you don’t.”

    “Yes,” Aquila declared. “I do. I only ever told you about what I did, and how I feel about it now. But that was half of the truth. The other half is...is...

    “The truth is that after my first kill, I was sick for two hours, just as I told you. But the second time, I wasn’t. And, although it was just a little bit at the time, I enjoyed it. And soon, I enjoyed all of it. I loved making my enemies suffer, and making them scream so that the people who cared about them would know they were suffering. After my miracle, even after I stopped being lost and realized the magnitude of the suffering I had caused, that part of me never went away.”

    Natsuki stared at her. Aquila took a deep breath, ignoring the pain, and forced herself to continue.

    “That’s why I try so hard to avoid fighting. If I start fighting, if I see somebody as an enemy to be defeated, the villain comes out, no matter how much I try to stop it. I hate that part of myself...it’s what makes me unforgiveable...but I don’t know how to stop it...I’ve never been able to stop it. What you heard and saw, there was no bluffing there. If Balthazar hadn’t backed off, I would have killed them, and made sure they died screaming so that he could hear it.” Aquila sighed, a tear rolling down her cheek. “That’s the full truth of me. That’s who...what I am. And I’ll understand if you never want to see me again. I’d be scared...I am scared...of me too.”

    Aquila closed her eyes and braced herself for what was to come.

    “I don’t want...” Natsuki began. Despite herself, Aquila began to cry. “I don’t want to lose you,” Natsuki declared.

    Aquila opened her eyes. “What?”

    “I don’t want to lose you,” Natsuki repeated. “You saved me – you saved all of us. You went out of your way to protect us. And, I won’t lie, what I saw terrified and horrified me...but you told me what you were like back in your war. I just...I just didn’t really believe it. You’re so kind and caring, and I thought that surely you couldn’t really have that cruelty in you. But, now I’ve seen it...and I won’t say that it doesn’t change things between us, because there’s no way it can’t. But whatever happens, I don’t want to lose you.”

    Aquila breathed a sigh of relief, and then winced at the pain. Beside her Natsuki was silent, her face thoughtful.

    “Aquila,” Natsuki finally said. “I...I...He gave me a chance to end his war.”

    Aquila wiped the tears from her face and looked at her. “What do you mean?”

    “Balthazar told me that he was trying to end all the suffering in the story worlds. He told me that if I could give him a way to do it that didn’t involve colliding the worlds, he’d end his war and do it. And he was telling the truth, I could tell. None of them want to be doing this, but they don’t see any other way. And I...and I couldn’t give them one.”

    Aquila put her hand on Natsuki’s, and hoped that it would give her some comfort.

    “But, there’s more than that,” Natsuki added. “He told me that if I could give him a reason to forgive the creators of this world for the suffering they were causing in the story worlds, that he would stop his war. And I couldn’t give him one. I told him that they didn’t know they were creating something that became real, but he told me that the other hub worlds didn’t stop once they knew we existed...and...and...” Natsuki sighed and buried her head in her hands. “...and what if he’s right?”

    “So that’s how he’s lost,” Aquila mused. “I had wondered. Natsuki, if all you can see is the suffering, then he is right. But he can’t see all the things that come alongside that suffering – the love that blossoms between two people who stand together against it, the triumph of overcoming it, the compassion and nobility of helping others through it, and the fellowship and joy and love that creates. Most of the stories these gods of creation tell have a happy ending. Lots of them are even happy stories from start to finish. And if he can’t see all those things in the first place, then there is nothing you could have told him that would have made him stop, no matter how much he wanted to do it.”

    Natsuki began to cry. “I still failed,” she sobbed. “Everything I’ve done since I got here has gone wrong.”

    Aquila gave Natsuki’s hand a squeeze. “Same here. But you’re safe, and that’s all that matters.”

    Natsuki nodded and wiped the tears from her eyes. “I need to get back to the base. Atria only gave me an hour for a break to come and see you.”

    “Oh?” Aquila asked.

    “She’s debriefing me,” Natsuki said. “She thinks that I probably overheard or saw something that can help them figure out how Balthazar is colliding the worlds.”

    Aquila cocked her head. “I hope she’s right.”

    “Easy for you to say,” Natsuki said, standing. “You’re not the one who has to write out a transcript of every word anybody spoke while somebody asks you questions about it.”

    “Lucky me,” Aquila muttered as Natsuki left and Kasumi returned to take her seat.

    “So, that went well,” Kasumi said.

    Aquila nodded. “Somehow.”

    Kasumi sighed. “One of these days I hope you realize just how much better you deserve than you think you do.”

    Aquila shrugged. “Well, regardless of what I may or may not deserve, I’ve come to a decision.”

    “Oh?”

    “Next time, Cap can get shot,” she declared. “It’s his turn.”

    Although Kasumi frowned, her eyes twinkled with amusement. “Aquila, Cap can’t get shot. He’s bulletproof.”

    “That just means he won’t mind.”

    “I’ll make sure I tell him,” Kasumi said with a smile.

    Aquila looked around the room. “What happened to my coat?”

    “It’s gone,” Kasumi replied. “I’m sorry. They had to cut it off – you had a bullet wound to the spine. I made sure everything that was in it has been accounted for, and they’re in a bag in the locker over there. I’ll see what I can do to get you a replacement that’s as close as possible to it. And, I’ll draw you a new coat once we get back into the story worlds, just like the old one.”

    “Good,” Aquila said. “I really loved that coat.”

Aquila wasn’t sure when she had drifted off. She had been watching TV with Kasumi, and then it was suddenly late in the afternoon. When she opened her eyes, it wasn’t Kasumi sitting beside her bed.

    Her breath caught in her throat. It’s not her, Aquila reminded herself. It’s not Lady Atlantia.

    Meliana took a deep breath and then said, “I’m sorry. I would have come sooner, but...” She sighed. “Truth be told, it took me this long to work up the courage to see you.”

    Aquila chuckled and then winced at the pain. The painkillers must be wearing off. “Am I that scary?”

    Meliana shook her head. “I’m that ashamed. I was so desperate for a way to end this war that I put you in danger. Silverspear was right – I should have never have asked you to mediate. I’m so sorry.”

    Aquila gave her a kind smile. “It would have been even less right not to try.”

    “That’s very kind of you,” Meliana said. “I’m not sure I deserve that, though. Now it’s up in the air if you’ll be well enough to escape before the worlds collide.”

    Aquila shook her head. “We only had a fifty-fifty chance of doing that anyway. Story world galaxies are pretty big.”

    “But now it’s less,” Meliana stated. “And that’s on me. I’m sorry.”

    “Apology accepted,” Aquila declared.

    Meliana took a deep breath. “Can I ask you a question?”

    Aquila nodded.

    “Why do you look at me like that?” Meliana asked. “With all that guilt?”

    “I already told you,” Aquila replied. “You look just like the last person I killed in my war. Her name was Lady Atlantia. You even sound like her, mostly. That’s all there is to it.”

    Meliana shook her head. “That’s not true. I’ve killed people in my war too, and none of them hang over my conscience like this Lady Atlantia does over yours.”

    Aquila stared at her hands. “It’s...it’s because...it’s because she was never my enemy, even though I was hers. When I came into her world to recruit or kill her, she saw through me as soon as she got a good look at me. She realized that I wasn’t some psychopath, but a hurt teenaged girl who needed help finding a way out of her pain. But, she didn’t know how to reach me, and I was too afraid of what would happen if I let her.

    “Whenever we met on the battlefield, she never attacked me. She just defended herself as she tried to reach me, and when that failed, she escaped. But, in the final battle, I caught her. I ripped open her mech and delivered a death blow. I made her scream so that her friends could hear her dying...and then she spoke her last words...‘Please let me help you’.” Aquila looked at the ceiling. “Of all the cruelties I committed in my war, of all the people I killed, that was the worst. How can anybody ever be forgiven after doing a thing like that?”

    She heard more than saw Meliana sniffle and wipe away a tear. “That explains a lot. I’d wondered how anybody could carry so much guilt, even after atoning.”

    Aquila closed her eyes.

    “But, speaking as a magical knight,” Meliana began. “I think if Lady Atlantia could see what you’ve become, she’d be proud of you.”

    Aquila opened her eyes. “What?”

    “You put yourself into danger to end a war you were trying to escape,” Meliana said. “According to your creator, you’ve helped save millions of people on another world. Whatever cruelties you’ve committed in the past, you’ve more than made up for them.” She leaned forward. “I know I’m not your magical knight, I just look like her. But, for a moment, just today, please let me be your Lady Atlantia.”

    She placed her hand on Aquila’s arm and said, “I forgive you.”

    Aquila stared at her.

    Meliana stood. “I’m afraid I have to go. The meetings never seem to end. Since you’re going to be a few weeks recovering, I’ve arranged to have you and your friends issued with the documents you’ll need to live in this world. Somebody should come to take down your information tomorrow morning. And...” She paused. “I’d like to come and visit you again, if you’ll allow me.”

    Aquila nodded, searching for words that wouldn’t come.

    Meliana walked to the door and then stopped in the doorframe. “If we get through this, you should go and speak to Lady Atlantia,” she said. “I know it will just be the replacement the information stream created, but I think it’s something you need to do.”

    “Wait,” Aquila said.

    “What is it?”

    “Natsuki,” Aquila replied. “She’s a genius – she’s smarter than the rest of us put together. It’s right in her character description. If anybody can figure out how to stop the worlds from colliding, it’s her. I think she’ll help you if you ask.”

    Meliana gave her a smile. “Then I’d better ask.”

    With that, she disappeared into the hallway.

    How long Aquila stared after her, she didn’t know. After a while, Kasumi appeared in the doorway.

    “Sorry about not being there,” she said, sitting down. “You were asleep, so I took the opportunity to get something to eat and freshen up.” She blinked. “Aquila, what happened?”

    “She...she...” Aquila stammered. “She forga–”

    Aquila broke down and wept.

NEXT: “Yuri”