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Changeling Part 93: Departure
🕑 Added 2025-06-25 16:18:14 +0000 UTC“So, tell me,” Ulysses began, but his neighbor took a step forward.
Without hesitation, Ulysses’ gauntleted hand slammed on the armored raider’s wrist. The masked assailant hesitated, mostly because a B-class electricity gleam could kill on contact.
“Do you mind?” Nestra’s brother hissed.
The other three hesitated. It was enough for Ulysses to finish.
“Are you really my sister?”
Nestra didn’t need to look at Claire to see the woman was not doing well. Those who’d attacked her were no slouches. She was wounded and tired. Nestra herself was on her last leg. The odds were not good.
Talking wasn’t a bad idea.
“I was really born from mom, and I have dad’s genetic material because my alien father assumed his form.”
“Your alien father took the form of our real dad to… have sex with mom?” Ulysses asked, horrified.
Nestra nodded, her disgust mirroring his own.
“We all have Greek tragedy names and someone pulled a Zeus on us?” he blurted.
“The irony isn’t lost on me,” Nestra replied.
“Enough of this,” the leftmost masked raider grumbled. “If you won’t do what must be done for mankind…”
Tension reached a paroxysm as the weight of the attackers shifted, their nervousness bleeding through their posture. Mana pooled in the air, red, blue, speaking of sharp edges. Nestra didn’t react because there was one type of mana that hadn’t been present.
Say what you will about Ulysses but his control was excellent.
“What I wouldn’t do for my folks,” he lamented.
His neighbor jerked violently and it wasn’t from surprise. Metal spikes surged from the ground, patiently dug through the asphalt by Ulysses, impaling his neighbor through the soles of his feet. The other two reacted quickly but Claire was already there, spear aimed forward. She accelerated away in a burst of air mana.
Now that she didn’t have to protect Nestra so hard, she was free to fight as she preferred. Nestra and Ulysses blurred away just as spells crashed where they’d stood. Ulysses pulled metal back from the ground where he’s buried it and back around his gauntlets. A slap motion sent barbed wire charged with electricity slicing through air and incoming spells. The impact was cataclysmic, sending pieces of road, buildings, and lamplights flying. The ground cracked. Where the B-class fought, nearby buildings were obliterated in a torrent of fire and steam, the two attackers collaborating to attack and mask their presence at the same time. It suddenly grew very hot.
A blue cloud surged towards the Palladians. All Nestra could think of were steamed crab legs. She might be the crab legs soon if she couldn’t get away quickly enough. But then to her surprise, a woosh of displaced air revealed the two charging attackers, and then an arrow caught the first while Claire caught the second. The man Ulysses had electrocuted was closeby, however, and he looked pissed. Also he was bleeding from his leg.
“You traitor!” he screamed.
Ulysses moved up to face him and, despite knowing she ought to run, Nestra did so as well. It was weird but it actually made sense to stick with allies when there were mobile enemies around. If she left now, any of the B-class could kill her if they caught up with her.
Also she didn’t want to abandon them. And she didn’t regret backing Ulysses because of what he said next.
“How can you possibly think I’d side with people who kidnapped my sister?” he asked calmly like they were in a salon.
The man attacked with two sabers, first with great fury and then by backpedaling after Nestra scored a counter on his leg. Ulysses was a vicious net of charged metal, ever shifting, sometimes letting Nestra momentum through with unpredictable strikes. As soon as the guy’s attention turned to her, Nestra went on the defensive and let Ulysses score a blow. In less than five seconds, the raider was bleeding on the ravaged streets. Somewhere in the distance, the sounds of explosions and collapsing concrete showed that others were running parallel to them,
“She’s not human!” the man screamed, panicked.
“He’s talking about Helena,” Nestra corrected, at the same time as Ulysses replied - “My other sister, dumbass.”
The man screamed when a wire caught him in the cheek, and the electric discharge turned him into a breaking puppet. Stones loaded with green covered him though, and he disappeared under the ground as if through water.
It kind of pissed Nestra off that Ulysses and her would work so well together. She was used to working alongside Camille who was a straight arrow and good tactician, but Ulysses was as much a vicious asshole as she was and there wasn’t a dick move he wouldn’t consider. Just like Nestra. It made facing them both that much more difficult.
There was a lull in the battle for the first time since Nestra had left the underground. Her brother stood, his face as arrogant and composed as if this were a fancy party.
“I have to admit, I thought you were going to fuck me over,” Nestra started.
“We need to move first.”
He gestured towards the gate and they took off as fast as her exhausted legs could carry her. As he looked around for threats, Ulysses replied, gray eyes sparkling in the dim light.
“I don’t outsource my spite — thank you very much. And besides, we’re still having a truce. You annoy me but I don’t want you to die.”
“Same, to be honest,” Nestra admitted.
“Stop it you’ll make me cry,” Ulysses said with the flattest tone possible, face the very image of bored disgust. “And mostly because it would make Helena sad and she’s infuriating when she’s in a mood.”
“And me only because I’d have to take over the heir role. Ew.”
“That’s fair.”
A B-class presence approached. The air and metal presence made no effort to hide and Ulysses didn’t look too worried so Nestra didn’t try and run. The newcomer had a bow and a camouflaged suit that showed very little besides a decidedly feminine presence.
“Hey,” she greeted with a timid voice. “It’s me, Frida.”
Nestra had to blink.
“Hm, ok? Thanks?”
There was a very awkward pause while the group hurried through a park. The wall was getting closer and the traces of battle, farther. No one seemed to be following. Maybe she was in the clear?
“That’s my fiancee,” Ulysses added in the same conversational tone as before.
“Oh sorry. I don’t try to remember anything that’s related to you,” Nestra replied.
“Well I just risked my life for you,” Frida said. “Very rude. Uninvited from the bachelorette party.”
She didn’t sound angry but she had a point, or at least that’s what Nestra’s saturated brain decided.
“Sorry, and thank you.”
Frida chuckled, just before Ulysses could swoop in for the kill.
“Wow you manage to commit heinous social blunders even on the battlefield. I’m impressed.”
Nestra hissed softly. The lights at the edge of her vision were starting to blur and she felt her legs bounce on the ground in a way that spoke of an imminent crash. When the other two stopped, it took her a little while to realize it.
“Mom called,” Ulysses said with a more somber voice. “All of the B-class we could detect are focusing on us right now. We will head back to keep them occupied. You’re almost at the gates. We didn’t discuss it and I do not know what the best course of action is, but hiding would probably be best for now. Shinran and Ragnarok must not be opposed, or they would have sent the army after you. Still, don’t trust them.”
Nestra nodded, then she realized… this was probably it. The last time she’d see a member of her family for a long time.
Shame it had to be Ulysses but at least he was being tolerable, for once. Maybe she ought to say something? Riel, she was so very bad at this.
“Hey, errr, I need to find my kind, but I’ll return afterward. I definitely will. Sorry about leaving you with the fallout.”
“Not your fault.”
“And… thank you for everything,” she bleated.
Ulysses nodded one last time.
“I’ll let the others know you’re safe. Just remember. You used your ace with me because I don’t forgive easily. Don’t ever give up on us again. Or you’ll never meet your nieces and or nephews.”
“I promise.”
Nestra turned before she could open the flood gate of her carefully controlled emotions, feeling Frida and Ulysses’ mana move away. Ok. Ok, no dropping her guard now. Imagine making this nice declaration and then catching a tungsten round in the cerebellum because she forgot to look around. That would be fucking embarassing. She had to get out of here first, safely, and without acting like a complete bogan. Running again, she watched the nearest gate approach. It was open, but it wouldn’t be unguarded. The night was calming down around her except for the sounds of battle still coming from behind, but the drones were mostly gone. Occasionally, a gunship would fly overhead with a low drone while the distant shapes of walkers slid on the streets at good speed. None were getting close to her. The weird mind effect that protected her from electronics was proving itself immensely useful.
Even exhausted, her improved nervous system meant she could think faster so she managed to avoid company. That changed once she was almost there. Packs of people guarded the gate, waiting, staring at each other with some tension. Nestra realized she wouldn’t get through undetected. The walls were too thick for her to passe-muraille through…
“Hey, it’s Crescent! Heyyyy!”
Nestra’s blood froze in her veins. She’d let her guard done for just one second. On a nearby building, a scout archer had spotted her. She was C-class but right now, Nestra wasn’t sure she could defeat a handful of them, much less the small army surrounding it.
What now? The scout didn’t look hostile. She approached gingerly, peeling back a hood to reveal a youthful, excited face.
“Hey, hey, you ok? We’re here to provide cover! Come on, folks, perimeter!”
The pack of young adults following her, very early twenties at most, actually moved around her with shy smiles and hesitant nods. It could have been an ambush but then it was a terrible one, with the archer leaving her back completely open and a shadow mage standing directly next to Nestra. Another group joined them as they entered the main highway, lit by lamps shining like spotlights on Nestra’s vulnerable face and making her instincts scream in protest. Shields rose around the group.
“Hey, Crescent! Or Nestra?” one of the newcomers asked. “Is it true you’re an alien? Still can’t believe it.”
“Does it mean we won’t get new uploads of ‘Cooking with Crescent?”
“Oh!” Nestra exclaimed. “That reminds me.”
She had prepared one last episode for the occasion. It was a bit of a pain to log into her account from her mask phone but eventually, she managed to launch it. It had over a thousand views by the time the page refreshed.
She could only assume people were watching a channel now that the truth had emerged. When she looked up, she realized there were over 50 C and D-class raiders surrounding her as well as several layers of wards, shields, barriers and basically enough protection to stop an artillery bombardment. It had been a bad idea to get distracted like this but, somehow, reality was bent on not making her pay. Someone handed her sealed military energy bars which she devoured. After that, she started feeling better.
The gate was in front of her. A trio of B-class army gleams landed in front of the large opening, leading to a brief rise of tension but they immediately marched to the sides to let her through. Combat walkers patrolled beyond the walls, the lights of their projectors flashing cones of color in her vision. She noticed raiders on the roofs of nearby buildings looking out. All around her were friendly faces joking about her show, or her performances working for Ragnarok. One of the archers looked like someone she’d advised to quit his shit guild, another she had rescued from a predatory contract. There was a Hungarian warrior she’d head-butted who gave her a short, manly nod before reinforcing nearby shields. It was a weird assortment of the young and the outsiders, of those who had seen the reward of 21 million credits and huffed, not because they were too rich for it but because their hearts were bigger than their wallets. It was a human protective cordon showing its teeth and her Aszhii self screamed that she was in danger while her mind said that no, she’d rarely been safer. They were noisy, pushy, and far too close, and yet she didn’t mind. Despite everything her born instincts said she should mind.
It was very weird, yet a little warm as well.
The time came for her to cross the gates, and so she did. The others stopped at the threshold, waving her forth with confident smiles. Gunships roared overhead. A distant dragoon combat walker puffed a bit of fire from its flamethrower as a greeting before returning to patrol. She paused, looking back.
They were still watching her. A few more waved. Above them, the walls of the City that Guard the Gate remained open, and beyond that the dull fire of where her family had fought to extract her, and beyond that, the arcologies filled with intrigue and the distant gaze of shareholders, but also the Beacon and what it guarded. There were her friends, her family, her acquaintances, and the beating heart of human civilization, blooming in the most inhospitable spot possible in the name of power, profit, progress, and sacrifice. Here was the place where she’d born and grown and bled. Beam of searchlight pierced the clouds. Things were not over yet.
She had to leave, but she would return.
After one last gaze, Nestra took off at a dead sprint.
***
Sereth was waiting by the rock where she’d buried her first bug-out bag. He looked more wistful than ever. No efforts were made to make his smile anything but bitter.
“So… we’re leaving,” Nestra said.
“Our instincts will not allow you to stay. You must feel the call as well,” he replied.
“Time to visit our home world then?”
He smiled more genuinely.
“Such as it is.”
“Did you say goodbye to Stibbs?”
Sereth flinched. His mask of calm cracked, and she saw the grief underneath. It took a lot to make Sereh grieve, Nestra believed.
“I… yes. I will return.”
His powerful fingers gathered in a ball of grabbing stress.
“Every month we are apart, our limited time grows thinner. I wish I could hurry. I just hope…”
“You just hope what? That she won’t forget you?”
He smiled tenderly.
“No, it is not us I am worried about.”
Nestra tried to get him to elaborate but he wouldn’t budge. After grabbing her bug-out bag, Sereth was ready to leave but she told him there were two more bags and now that her dimension pocket was much larger, she was going to get them all thank you very much. It took two relaxed hours of hopping around Threshold before she had them all, a rather relaxed jaunt considering she was now with Sereth and nothing short of the planet exploding could possibly hurt her. The temptation to get in and hug her parents was strong but she had to resist. She didn’t doubt they were alright, she just knew it would just bring them more problems. In the end, she sat on a hill with her feet hanging over a small incline.
“Hm, now what?” she asked Sereth. “Is there something I should know? About heading home?”
He shrugged.
“Just let your instincts take over. You are female Aszhii. There are no creatures in the multiverse with a better innate understanding of space than you. The only obstacle between you and the path forward is the human tendency to overthink. Do not question. Act.”
He sounded like her dad teaching her fencing. Ah well. She closed her eyes and focused on her spatial perception. They were currently standing near several portal worlds…
She frowned. No, it wasn’t true. She could feel other worlds, but there were no portals nearby. The air lacked that typical radiation, the familiar warm energy that came with them. What she was feeling was… other worlds. Just below the surface. Yes. Her mind traveled to them. Her pulse slowed, as did her breath. She could almost… almost…
Synesthesia took over. She was now facing a yarn of twisted strands of realities, ever-shifting. She realized she’d felt it once before when Sereth had punched her, Shinran, and himself out of the portal world they were in, throwing them out of space for a fleeting moment. Those were the layers of existence in a place that was relatively thin and she could not touch them but she could see them, feel where the fabric was brittle enough to bridge. There were several worlds there. And she could just…
Nestra frowned. Do what? Where should she go? She had no idea. Slowing down, she breathed again. There had to be a way home.
Something called to her, the softest whisper, barely heard over the ambient noise of so many worlds touching, its people so close yet unattainable. They danced, each in their bubble, blessedly unaware of the others. Volcanoes, tundras, forests, caves filled with colorful life hiding from a dying red star, forests upon forests layered to the skies, all there, all filled with life but they were not her people. No, but there were… levels.
And so there was a depth. It was as much a question of altitude as it was a question of layers: all adjacent concepts made up to allow her mind to process the Aszhii abilities. Although aware of it, she accepted it as a necessity. Her mind remained mostly human, so she would use tricks to handle the fabric of space. The deeper levels called to her with an eerie song. She pushed towards it. It was a world of black pillars on white sand under the pale glare of a cooling star, not hers but… close enough. She had to get there first. Before her mind could take a step back, her hands moved up, grasping the air and pulling. Yes, it was right. She had to link both and then, and then…
A sharp pain tore through her mind. A terrible drag clawed at her chest and she bent forward, breath stolen as if she’d ran a marathon. She felt so weak, so damn exhausted it was painful. It burnt. It burnt horribly.
But there was a portal in front of her, shimmering cerulean in the night air. Sereth gently grabbed her then they were through. A shifting corridor waited, its walls like deformed glass haunted by uncertain shadows. She saw another portal at the end of the tube.
And then they were in a dense jungle, the air pungent. Nestra collapsed on thick moss. She threw up bile.
Sereth’s cool hand stayed on her neck while she swore, fingers pulling her hair back from the acid spray.
“Fuck… gah! This wasn’t the destination I picked. What… what happened?” she gasped.
“I think you are exhausted,” Sereth said.
“Ah, uh…”
“There is no rush. We are free of constraints now. We are just two traveling Aszhii, unbound by rules. You are safe. Rest for a while and then we can depart when we want.”
Not that much time. Stibs…
Nestra almost laid on the moss and it felt good, so good she didn’t even feel like unpacking her sleeping bag. Everything hurt when she moved so not moving was a good idea. This place was wet but the Skin didn’t care and it didn’t bother her. It had been a very long day. A lot had happened. She could just rest her eyes for a moment.
***
It was 3AM but Alden couldn’t sleep. He was nursing a beer and the kind of anxiety that came with feeling powerless, yet still wanting to know what was happening. Threshold had been attacked, this time not by monsters but by men. There had been a battle. Yuki had managed to fall asleep an hour before, which was good because she had to work early the next day.
Nothing short of saturation bombardment could grind the cogs of capitalism to a halt.
Threshold was still standing for now. In a brief succession of events, a large group of foreign diplomats had been arrested as they were conducting major operations. How they’d believed they could get away with it in mankind’s most tightly controlled city remained a mystery to Alden, but he supposed underestimating the first gens had something to do with it. They’d also revealed the existence of a permanent portal leading to the world of the lizardmen.
Shortly after, the American government had denied any involvement, instead blaming a ‘fringe’ group, and then attacking Threshold for withholding information that was arguably significant for mankind’s survival. But the timing had been in the hands of Mayor Kim, and Shinran. By revealing everything before anyone else, the old foxes had directed the flow of information, and thus the narrative. They’d claimed the first peaceful contact with a tribe before anyone else could accuse them of being race traitors. They’d revealed an immediate data sharing agreement with Seoul’s fortress signed in an emergency session before they could be pressured for access. Not everything had gone smoothly with China weighing military intervention, but Alden was confident no one would actually try to blow up Threshold.
Not while Shinran still lived. Ragnarok was just the cherry on a very threatening cake.
But the weirdest thing that had captured everyone’s attention in the most unexpected of way were accusations that Threshold was harboring an alien. Online trolls had rushed to make fun of the allegations until, to the general surprise, Threshold had confirmed it.
Crescent was an alien. Much like the lizards themselves, her species was not native to this plane of existence. The revelation was so strange that nobody was really sure how to interpret it. Some of her ‘Cooking with Crescent’ videos were at ten million views and climbing by the second. And now, there was a new one.
Uploaded seven minutes before.
Already 1.2 million views.
The problem was, it might be an actual episode and Alden was hungry. It was 2AM. He’d had dinner at 8 for fuck’s sake. Cooking might wake up Yuki, which was thoroughly unacceptable. Ah well.
“I still have some jerky.”
It would have to do.
Crescent, or rather, Clytemnestra Palladian’s face appeared in all its strange glory. Without her mask, the woman was both less human — in the skin tone and teeth — and more so, in the vulnerability and stress lines. The way she blinked. Her pursed lips. Even her features were that of a typical anglo he might meet at work. It was just… uncanny. And it looked like the horns were not part of her mask after all.
She would look a bit more demonic without the worried frown. Even the way she pushed a strand of errant hair behind an elongated ear reminded him of his mom, when she was trying hard to calm down.
“Hello. Ahem. Welcome to this episode of Cooking with Crescent.”
There was a pause. Behind her, a light forest extended towards the bottom of a dune which rose to a pure azure sky brightened by two suns. The light forest buzzed with life. As before, the camera was placed on a sort of stone altar doubling as a cooking spot. Nothing unusual besides the shocking absence of a mask.
“This will be the last episode for a while. I recorded it in advance, expecting that I wouldn’t get the time afterward. If you’re seeing this then my secret is out. I… really hope I’m still alive.”
There were no official updates, but the top comment confirmed Crescent had been seen leaving the city earlier that night.
“I am sorry if the deception hurt you, but I will admit that I placed my well-being above a full disclosure. I am not sure how the revelation will be taken but I highly suspect it will be fairly easy to see why I wouldn’t want everyone to know.”
Twenty-one million credits of reward and multiple first gen hit squads — fortunately none from Threshold after Shinran had threatened bodily harm. Some people had strong opinions about aliens — any aliens — and about what guaranteeing the planet’s security entailed.
“Nevertheless, I feel like I owe you an explanation. So I’ll give you one. I won’t tell you everything but… I’ll tell you most of what I know. My name is Nestra. I was born and raised in Threshold and I only figured out what I was last summer.”
Wow, six months to come to terms didn’t sound like a very long time. Alden took a sip of beer.
It was weird being part of history.
“What I am is an Aszhii. We are a species of shapeshifters.”
She turned into a human version of herself. The transition was incredibly smooth but made a little disorienting by the fact her human self was a normal gal. Well, a rather muscular one. But her alien self was over two-meter tall and built like a concussion. She changed back almost immediately.
“I was left with my human family. In a way, you could see me as a, hmm, a half breed maybe. Please bear in mind that my parents and siblings didn’t know. They had no way of knowing. So, just, don’t be dicks to them. Pretty please.”
Not that Alden would harass a family of high gleams, but even if he could, he wasn’t an asshole. He was also very aware that a non-negligible part of the population was, in fact, made of assholes.
“Sadly I don’t know much about my other species yet. I wanted to say, though, that growing here, I always had a feeling that I wasn’t fitting. I was also a gleam without a core for the longest of times, which was painful both physically and mentally. When I realized I could turn into this…”
She pointed at her body.
“I felt so relieved, you have no idea. I wasn’t built wrong. I wasn’t a weird freak, or a mistake. I was simply… different. There was nothing wrong with me except for that difference that I simply hadn’t processed yet. I can’t explain how liberating this was… and yet.. after I started feeling better, I opened myself to other people. Both as Crescent and as Nestra. Not being in pain all the time, it changes one’s life. It took me several months of meeting and fighting to come to another realization, however. I was not, in fact, that different.”
She was struggling to look at the camera which was obvious in the way her face was turned slightly down and to her left.
“It was the love of my family and my friends that made me who I am. My skill is my own, of course, as are talents and efforts, but it’s how I used them that defined who I would be. I joined MaxSec to make a positive impact and for a while, we did. When MaxSec was disbanded, I worked in District Fifteen hoping we could help those who’d been discarded by the city for so long, we had become invaders. With Detective Shinoda, we did our best to bring back hope and trust. I’d like to believe we made a difference. Same with my work as a Special Agent later. It’s the decisions I made and the tasks I accomplished that defined my beliefs, not just as words, but as actions. And I didn’t do it alone. I did it with my friends and my family, and with acquaintances, knowing we were bound together by ideas and values, by dreams that guided all that fight, pain, and blood we went through to try and make this difficult reality a better one. You’ll find many animals who understand social bonds, but on Earth, only humans follow stories. Humans… and me. So yes, I figured out very late that I felt in my heart that I was human in soul, human enough anyway, and I believed that near-human soul was that of a Threshold raider willing to fight for our success. It’s those bonds and beliefs that made everything worth it and for that, I can never be grateful enough. I am a human-born Aszhii, and that human part means that I will return and when I do, I will try to be part of you again, if you will allow it, because I love humanity, and the part of me that is human is… good. I love it.”
She smiled and Alden realized he.. was a little touched. Maybe humanity wasn’t as rotten and hopeless he’d sometimes thought it was, having worked in retail.
“… but not as good as the dish we’ll be making today! Haha! Got you, we’re still cooking,” Crescent added with a forced smile.
It was the sort of transition that was just awkward enough to feel genuine, therefore genuine enough to make him smile. It was a return to the normal. He wasn’t sure how he felt about everything, but taking the time to process everything in front of a cooking show wasn’t the very worst idea.
“Today, we’re going to celebrate with something a bit special. It will be a dessert.”
Riel dammit.
“A bit more complex to set up than usual in a portal world because I’ll be using ingredients that simply cannot be found out there, but easily done in a kitchen and more importantly, as delicious as it is easy. The dessert in question is a simple Lebanese baklava which happens to be Riel’s favorite dessert — according to a first gen I know. For this recipe, you’ll need phyllo sheets and clarified butter, also called Ghee, and no normal butter isn’t a good substitute. You can easily find them in any decently-sized delivery service. The next ingredient we can’t source here is orange blossom water, which is really aromatic extracted from bitter orange and it’s possible to replace it with local citrus species but I wouldn’t recommend it because then it wouldn’t be the Lebanese style I’m going for right now. Finally, granulated sugar. Brown sugar is better if you can get it.”
She drew her massive sword from out of nowhere, expression still completely calm and that was actually what he’d expected. It was just that seeing her face instead of her mask made things a little strange. He was more used to the mask at this point, so there was a constant nagging impression when he saw her face. It wasn’t bad, just… slightly voyeuristic maybe? He was sure it would pass.
“The next two ingredients are nuts, which I’ll be harvesting soon, and syrup. Now this syrup I’ll produce here with clear water and locally sourced honey but as usual, store-bought is fine. Probably better to be honest. It will also cut preparation time down by a lot as well.”
The sword whistled through the air.
“But we’re not here for convenience. We’re here for taste.”
The woman approached the nearest tree, rummaged through leaves that looked like long fat fingers and pulled a slightly rotted green fruit as large as her fist — so probably apple-sized. A brown husk could be seen under the peeling layer of decaying flesh thanks to the camera’s amazing resolution and a quick zoom. The moment Crescent pulled the fruit free, the low drone reached a paroxysm and something darted from the dense canopy. A quick flip of the blade ended the charge in a puff of blood, entrails, and stained feathers. Activity moved the branches as if by a strong wind. Crescent stepped back in a blur of fast and elegant strikes, no movement wasted. Ichor sprayed the grass, then she was stepping forward again and disappearing fruits the same way her blade had appeared. Probably some cool alien magic. An invisible handbag had to be amazing when buying groceries in a physical store.
Despite the constant assault, Crescent made good progress, looting trees of various essence for slightly different prizes, each one guarded by flocks of suicidal fliers. Honestly she could have cooked the birds on skewers — there were recipes for that. But even he was not dumb enough not to realize why she’d picked Earth’s savior’s dessert as her final recipe. Riel was the defender of mankind. A Threshold-born alien picking this dish sent a strong message, not just of who she looked up to, but also showing that she understood symbols. It also aligned with what he knew of her: Rangarok’s hound, unafraid and uncompromising in her values. Just like Riel had been.
Now that he looked, there were similarities between Crescent fighting the birds and Palladian shooting Sword Saint gleams with her shotgun: efficient, precise, deadly. He wasn’t deluded enough to claim he recognized them as the same person, but the similarities were obvious now that he knew. Palladian had looked more nervous while Crescent was predatory but… actually he wasn’t sure.
The only thing he was sure about was that he couldn’t see her as a monster. She was just too human, flaws and all. After collecting enough nuts, Crescent dropped them all on the altar, unprocessed for now.
“Right, now the honey.”
She grabbed a bucket, sighed, and made her way to the largest tree around. Black mana surrounded her. She shook the tree with a kick.
If Alden had thought there had been a drone before, now a deafening vibration heralded the coming of a deluge of angry black and yellow insects. Crescent released a burst of energy, cutting a clean bubble out of the angry mass. It was just a portion of the massive hive coming for her though, so she was forced to retreat, slapping herself and charging another similar attack. She dove in just after. The battle was too fast for Alden to properly follow but as far as he could tell, she would dive in, explode, fall back, rinse and repeat. The fight moved all around the area the camera covered for a solid thirty seconds before the last insects died from the strong application of a vengeful palm. An irate Crescent then climbed the tree and returned with cuts of a hive, placing the queen in a different container. Probably to sell it. She then pushed the honey out of the comb with a precision that would have been much more impressive if she didn’t have three angry sting marks on her face. Her grumpy expression made her so relatable it should have been done on purpose.
Surely no major threat to mankind could be so desperately goofy.
Or maybe it was a very good psyop. Looking back at some of the footage though, Alden didn’t think so. One had to be an incredible manipulator to be so good at looking so bad. In any case, the time for preparation was there. Crescent set a pot of water to boil over a fire so she could make syrup out of mana honey. It felt a bit sacrilegious to Alden, but he tolerated it because it was for the sake of making proper baklava. Much could be sacrificed for this noble cause. She also broke the nuts’ shells open with her bare hands.
Alden made the mistake of checking the comments, knowing what he’d find and regrettably doing so. It was a competition between the alien fuckers and the masochists to see whose balls should be squeezed first. It was absolutely what Alden had expected, but he was still disappointed.
“Her alien buddies are going to think we’re pervs,” he lamented
And they’d be absolutely right.
At last, the nuts were done and properly crushed using a stone mortar this time. Crescent grabbed what looked like a metal tower shield — also locally sourced. The poor implement was turned into a baking tray through the vigorous application of finger strength and curses.
“For simplicity, we’ll first apply a layer of phyllo sheets, then add our nuts and sugar mix, and then another layer of sheets. Make sure that your nut mixture is evenly spread.”
Alden deliberately closed the live comment feed. Fuck those people. Or not, as it were.
“Now we’ll cut it on the typical diamond shape.”
That was done in three seconds with a very sharp knife.
“Pour our Ghee over the dish, and there we see how clarified butter is better since the normal kind would be too liquid, resulting in a soggy baklava. And now it’s time to bake. And I’ll be using a bit of time magic again!”
She snapped her fingers.
This time, the transition was so smooth, it was almost perfect. Not that anyone would have noticed. Behind Crescent, what used to be a forest was now a field of desolation made of burnt stumps, upturned soil, and corpses. So many corpses. There were massive horned soldiers riding rhinoceros-like creatures, gutted and torn apart, their bloodied fingers still clutching shattered spears and the battered forms of tower shields. Giant scorpions littered the ground with their cracked shells. The largest of all was a massive warrior ensconced in a stone armor as thick as a bank vault, his body pinned to his mount by Crescent’s discarded sword. Blood still oozed from the calamitous wound, spilling over the headless rhino that had borne him into battle. Alden was certainly one of those roving guardians Alden had heard about. He and his patrol were dead now, alongside the forest they’d trampled.
Not a single body had approached the altar. Crescent’s face had also recovered from the sting marks and she looked much more relaxed.
“And it’s almost done! Look at the beautiful pastry, all golden. There is one last step though. Without further ado, we’re going to drizzle the orange blossom-infused syrup over the dish. Hear the sizzle! Hmmm.”
It did sound good. With religious focus, Crescent pulled a lozenge of syrupy goodness out of the dish. Her hellish, needle teeth closed over the pastry, then a beatific smile bloomed over her face. Clearly wearing that mask had made her stop giving a shit about schooling her expressions because surely the pastry couldn’t be that good.
“Oh yeah, delicious. I feel like this would go in superbly well with tea or coffee. Something just a little bitter for that amazing balance. Anyway, that’s it for today… and for a while.”
She looked at the camera, fear returning.
“I really hope I’ll get to do it again. I really want to. Love you all. Take good care of yourselves while I’m gone. Don’t let the monsters bite you and remember… Eat well!”
The camera cut, leaving Alden feeling a little lost.
He hadn’t imagined that first, well, second contact would be like that. But… it could have been much worse. He hoped she’d stay a bit longer — talk to people, but maybe it would be good for her to go meet her fellow aliens. Her other people. Alden had the feeling she would be a motivated ambassador. Mankind could certainly use some friends. And she could use a break from the bounty on her ass, whatever Shinran had to say about it.
There was only one thing left to do after leaving a like and a comment. He spared a look towards the bedroom where Yuki slept, the door ajar. He grabbed his visor and pulled his favorite supermarket app, only to come to a tragic realization.
There wasn’t a single pack of phyllo sheets left in the entire city.
“You fucking posers. I was following her first,” he hissed.
Comments
ItWasIDIO!!
Alden you were at best second don't front
Jacob Harris
Alden is us
ARealPerson
Stones loaded with (green --> mana) covered him though, and he disappeared under the ground as if through water. Wrong magic system friend.
Redeyes Eclipse
Omfg i feel the same about this story lmao 🤣 more human than me fr
Quixotic
First gen doesn't mean they're not in Threshold. Mazingwe and the Palladians are first gen and are B class.
Antony Claughton
It’s mentioned by Alden she was hunted by first-gen hit squads. I assume this is just a rumour and not correct? Since I can’t see the assholes who wouldn’t fight with Riel, who have had 90 years to become powers in their cities, coming to Threshold and risking Shimram and all their power for this. If they were that opposed to aliens they’d have followed Riel the first time.
M. Lampi
Oh, no! All the phyllo dough is gone! Edit suggestions: in the most unexpected of way were accusations ==> in the most unexpected of ways were accusations her alien self was over two-meter tall and built ==> her alien self was over two-meters tall and built Alden was certainly one of those roving guardians Alden had heard about. ==> He was certainly one of those roving guardians Alden had heard about.
WannaBeATree
Good ending! Gives me "A life without Nestra, different POVs" vibe for the next chapter. Still feels strange how all the gleams were up and about at the right place and time to accomodate the story (during the night?). Makes it feel a little forced, but at least the ending hits harder because of it. I guess they could have been drafted to deal with the diplomats and were all awake and watching the news because of it?
Julian Bello
Holy shit. Yeah I uhh, couldn't have picked a better time to subscribe. I just finished a reread to catch up and decided to go to the Patreon... Oh my god! Oh my Riel!! I genuinely had to go for a break mid read and go skating to calm myself down because this was _this_ good. Shit, I'll probably comment again later with more coherent thoughts but damn. Damnnn
Khent Mercer
Cooking with Crescent. Literally the only cooking show I've ever been interested in and it's fictional. Yet still somehow makes me have slightly more faith in humanity. I'm going to go buy some baclava now.
StarWolf
Ok
