A/N: I'm sorry these delays have lasted so much longer than I expected. I am doing my best to push through things but the situation hasn't changed for the better, and it has lasted twice as long as we originally expected and counting. I am exhausted. I will continue to be exhausted. But while we may have more delays, I certainly will not stop. I hope you all enjoy this chapter.Raptors watch us as we approach the Queen's domain, forever vigilant yet completely silent, waiting for us to make the first move. I wonder if they have any idea what our van even is. I wonder if they care. To those who worship the concept of reacting instead of acting, is seeking new knowledge something they value at all? …No, I'm overthinking this. They might worship Reciprocation, but that doesn't mean literally everything they ever do has to represent it. To some degree, a person has to act on their own initiative in order to be able to react at all.

My domain is spread out the furthest, so I'm the first one to feel the Queen as we approach. It is karma itself, glorious and impartial: good is returned with good, and evil is returned with evil, each in equal measure. There's a greater feeling of balance from this domain compared to Anastasia's, which doesn't seem all that concerned with measured responses, but it's still undeniably Reciprocation. I direct Peter to stop the van, and we all pile out.

"Polite Greeting: Queen of Reciprocation, this unit's designation is A Blossom of Wilted Chances, princess of the council of Possibility," Blossom calls out. "I and my companions are here on a mission of peace, gifts of knowledge, and the safe escort of one of your own council to your domain."

The shift in every worker around us is palpable. As one, they relax their guard, several scuttling away to other tasks. Preparing gifts, maybe?

"Polite greeting: Princess of Possibility, this unit's designation is Equality is Impenetrable, Queen of Reciprocation. You do us a great service and are welcome within our domain," the Queen responds. "Perhaps too great a service. To our shame, we know of naught that we could offer which would equate to a gift of our own council member. However, a query: why are we not hearing a greeting from them, but instead you in their place?"

And so we explain. We tell them why we're here, why Ana can't talk to them, what I and my Queen have developed to fix the issue, the methods we'll be using to help teach them, and finally, what we'd like them to do for us in return: join the alliance. Overall, they seem quite eager to agree, but Blossom interjects before they can officially offer their support.

"Wait for the words of your new council member before you decide," she suggests. "Even if your vote is unanimous now, even if hers cannot change the outcome, you should hear her words."

"You speak of this new council member as if she will be our Princess," the Queen comments.

"She will," Blossom says simply.

Getting back in the van, we drive deeper into the city. The cramped vehicle doesn't even have air conditioning, so most of us are sweltering under the Texas sun. Christine keeps using her power to suck all the sweat off her face and toss it out the window.

"I could probably just eat that with my domain," I offer.

"…Don't," Christine answers simply.

"What are their names?" Ana asks.

"Huh?" Christine says.

"You mean the names of your council members?" I ask.

"Yeah," Ana nods.

"Request: your new council member would like to hear your names. I will translate for her," I send over the network.

"This unit's designation is Equality is Impenetrable."

"This unit's designation is A Mirror Always Reciprocates."

"This unit's designation is Suffering Shared Is Joy."

"This unit's designation is Two Souls Balanced are Divine."

I list all the names to Ana. She nods hesitantly.

"And… they're going to be my friends?" she asks, fidgeting in her seat.

Oh. I smile at her, wrapping my hand around hers and giving her a soft squeeze. She needs friends, doesn't she? It's criminal how long she's been kept from anyone her age. And while this doesn't quite change that… I hope it will help. I really do.

"They're going to love you," I tell her. "And if you want them to be your friends, they'll do so happily."

"Okay," she says, a little shakily. 

She's… about to cry. Oh, gosh. I lean over and wrap her up in the biggest hug I can while our seatbelts are still on, squeezing her even harder than before. Her soft little sobs betray her fear, her hands reaching up to grab my shirt as she shakes in my arms.

"You don't have to do this," I remind her again. "You don't. This only happens if it's really what you want."

"But what if it's both?" Ana sniffs. "What if I want it, but I'm scared? What if I want it, but I also hate it? I-I-I put all that work into learning to fight, into being good at fighting aliens. I still wake up sometimes and get scared when I can't find my gun. What if they feel that? What if they know how much I want to hurt them? Aren't they going to want to hurt me?"

"Of course not," I promise her. "They'll understand when you explain it. And if they don't, I won't let them touch you. Never ever."

She sniffs, holding me tighter, and the two of us stay that way until the van stops. It's only afterward, when everyone else has gotten out and the doors are still open, that we break away and head for the exit.

"I bet there's a park somewhere in the city," I tell her. "Wanna go looking for it?"

"Okay," she agrees quietly.

So we walk, hand in hand, Christine and Emily both quietly joining us while Peter, Blossom, and Maria all stay behind to chat with the colony. Peter is still adjusting to everything that's changed for him, but he's ultimately a social creature at heart. He loves being the center of attention, and while Reciprocation doesn't like Perfection any more than anyone else, they also won't be rude unless he breaks decorum first, which is a game he finds delightful.

For now, though, it's just the four of us. The family that was forged in the incursion. Ana's big sisters, all taking her out to play together.

I could fly up into the sky and find a destination for us easily, but we let Emily lead the way instead, the three of us flanking behind her like we used to. The terrain is familiar here, after all. Though it's much hotter, and the devastation is much older, the ruins of a city of this size can't help but bring back memories. Every step we take feels like a step closer to danger, at least for a second or two, before we remember that now, together, we are completely safe. Nothing will threaten us like that again.

"Any idea where we're headed, Emily?" Christine asks.

"As always, absolutely none," she answers. "I just go where my feet take me."

"I trust you'll get us there," I say. 

"What, you think your little playdate is essential to our survival?" Emily quips.

"Could be," I say. "But if nothing else, I think it'll help."

"Maybe it will," Emily admits, turning a corner and sure enough, at the end of the block, we see quite a few trees—and beyond them, an impressively intact jungle gym. I wrap an arm around my sister's shoulder and give it a squeeze, shaking her around a bit as the two of us laugh.

"I still can't believe you hid your powers from me for three years," I say. "I always feel like such an idiot when I remember that."

"You were pretty busy trying to keep our family from completely falling apart," Emily answers. "Which, you honestly did a pretty good job of, frankly. Sorry I never thanked you much for that, I… was having issues."

"I get it," I assure her.

"Do you?" she asks. "Eh. You probably do. You've been way better to me than I deserve."

"I'll second that," Christine says. "I wouldn't be capable of half as much as I am now if not for you. You've saved my life so many times now, in so many different ways. It's honestly a little hard to handle."

"Julietta's the best!" Anastasia agrees. "You're all the best, but Julietta's the bestest best."

"Uh," I manage, tentacles on my head twisting with embarrassment. "Thank you?"

"You're welcome," Emily says, bumping me with her shoulder. "You deserve a little praise from time to time, too."

"There's no one else I'd rather betray humanity with," Christine agrees with a nod.

"We're not betraying anyone!" Anastasia protests. "We're helping humanity, because they don't understand what's going on. We're helping everyone!"

"That's right," I agree, ruffling her hair.

"That's why I'm gonna do it," she continues. "Even though I'm scared, I'm still gonna do it."

Oh, gosh. Just hearing her say that gets my heart pounding with stress.

"You don't need to decide right now, Ana," I tell her again. "We'll have to spend a long time teaching the Queen."

"Why do you keep telling me I don't have to when you obviously want me to!?" Ana demands. "I'll just keep being left out if I don't!"

That's why. That's exactly why. I don't want Anastasia to feel pressured into doing something if she doesn't actually want to. She's a child, and I'm her guardian. I have a lot of influence over her and how she lives her life. And my guardians, after my parents died? They didn't use that power responsibly at all. 

If we assume that I'm traumatized by my childhood experiences—and sure, fine, objectively I guess the evidence points that way—then it follows that the pain I endured and to some extent still endure by the maladaptive aspects of my worldview stem ultimately from the people who raised me. The people who, let's be real, failed me. But if I let that generational trauma pass down to Anastasia? If I hurt her by not giving her any choice but to become something molded by trauma? I don't know what I'll do. I don't know how I'll live.

"I will change everything," I say, "to make sure you are not left out if you don't want to do this. I don't care what it takes. I don't care what kind of world we have to build. You can do anything, Ana. It doesn't have to be this."

We stop walking, and I make sure to hold eye contact with her to let her know how serious I am. She stares back, thinking about it for a moment.

"…I wanna go play at the playplace over there," she says, pointing over to the jungle gym. "And I want you to be my size so we can play together."

That earns another laugh from me.

"Deal," I agree, shrinking down immediately.

I don't turn myself into a clone of her like the last time we played this way; I can't really copy her outfit, after all, and I'd miss my hair-tentacles. I do copy her brain, though—I figure it'll help us stay on the same page with whatever we end up doing—albiet with a few alterations to accommodate all my extraneous neural needs. Chromatophores, pheromone network systems, and even my little tiger tail I've opted to grow as a treat all need adjustments for the rest of the body to work properly, but this kind of stuff is second nature to me now.

Gosh. Everyone is so tall now.

"Ready!" I smile at Ana, feeling oddly self-conscious at the sound of my voice for some reason. Kid bodies are weird. Kid brains are super weird. I'm already starting to feel a little excited. I-I mean, it's just a stupid playground, right?

"Yay!" Ana cheers. "Okay! Three, two, one, race you there!"

"Wh-hey!" I yelp.

She rushes off, so I break into a run after her, making sure not to change anything from my current body since that wouldn't be fair unless she uses her blood. Consequently, she beats me there, but I guess she had a headstart, so I can't be too upset about it.

The jungle gym, as it turns out, is only part of an even larger playground than expected. Once we push through the overgrown trees, we're greeted to the sight of several slides, a mostly-intact swingset, a seesaw, and a whole set of climbing slots. A pretty standard set of playground equipment, by most measures, but… well, it looks a lot more impressive from down here.

"Let's go, let's go!" Ana insists, so I follow her up the stairs of plastic-coated metal mesh. "This is gonna be our new house!"

"Our… house? Okay! Our house, got it," I agree, opting to just go along with it.

"Yep! But first, we gotta check if it's safe! Perimeter check, on the double! Circle around the outside!"

"Oh! U-um, yes ma'am!"

She barks orders at me, directing me as our squad commander as we case the interior of our new 'house' for potential hostiles. We scour our way through foe after imaginary foe, crawling underneath low structures and climbing along the exterior to attack inside. Once we've breached the structure, we go room by room to wipe our (entirely unspecified) enemies out.

"Area secure, ma'am!" I bark.

"Excellent!" Anastasia grins, putting her hands on her hips. "Then we can begin construction of our FOB! Soon, we'll take the fight to our true enemy!"

"What's our true enemy, ma'am?" I ask.

"Come on, private! You should already know this!" Anastasia insists.

She points dramatically up at the sky, in a very particular direction.

"We're fighting the moon!" she declares.

There's a cloud covering the moon right now, but we still know exactly where it is. I've gotten pretty good at tuning out the feeling at this point, but it's always there. That little pull, even stronger than the one toward my Queen. She's always there. Waiting. And perhaps, yearning to get closer.

"Right," I say. "Let's save the world!"

And so we do, at least in our little imaginary game. Emily and Christine are forced to get involved as well, though neither of them complains too much about the affair. As my fellow squadmates, Ana leads us to defeat a siege against our new home, a dangerous counteroffensive, and ultimately a rescue mission as Christine gets captured by the fearsome and evil Bench I Want To Sit On Because I'm Tired.

We laugh, play, and hug. We have fun throwing ourselves down the slides. Time seems to pass in a blink, the sun moving across the sky and the clouds occasionally giving us glimpses of our great enemy. Each time, we rage at the sky, shooting invisible guns at the moon and imagining the grand victories we'd achieve if any of them hit.

"Well hey there, everyone! Having a party without me? I'm hurt," Peter whines."Affection. Delight," Peter's link to the network betrays.

"THE DARK LORD HAS APPEARED!" Anastasia shrieks, pointing in his direction. "ALL TROOPS, ADVANCE!"

"Raaaaaah!" 

Emily and I both react immediately with war cries, rushing down our brother with fire in our eyes and murder in our hearts. Peter brightens up immediately, standing taller as he spreads his arms out and lets out a deep, ominous laugh.

"You fools!" he bellows. "You cannot defeat me! I am invincible!"

He stomps around through the grass as we chase after him, Ana hot on our heels. When she inevitably jumps for him, he catches her out of the sky and swings her around a couple times before running off again, cackling all the while.

"I am going to turn all the world's lemonade into limeade!" Peter declares heinously.

"You monster!" Ana gasps. 

"And I'll make them all extra bitter!"

"Raaaaah!"

"I'll save you! Ten Entire Fairies In Your Face Attack!"

Maria and Maria and Maria and Maria and several more all rush out of the treeline and start flashing their glow in front of Peter's face, prompting him to cry out in fake agony and start hobbling around, clutching his eyes.

"He's stunned!" Ana announces. "Get him!"

The dogpile that occurs as all of us tackle Peter to the ground is enough to nearly smother him, though we're all laughing so hard, him included, that I doubt he minds at all. It's at this point that something I've been keeping in the back of my mind comes to the forefront, though: the conversation the Reciprocation colony is having with Blossom starts to refer to us directly.

"Query: what are they all doing with our new council member?" A Mirror Always Reciprocates asks. "It looks like combat training, but it seems ineffective."

"It is a form of entertainment created through the enactment of elaborate hypothetical scenarios," Blossom answers. "It is very common in human culture, especially among humans who were recently birthed by their standards."

"Clarification request: 'their standards.'" Suffering Shared is Joy says.

"Several thousand light cycles is still deemed to be young enough to require constant oversight and care," Blossom says.

"Astonishment. And these hypothetical enactments are deemed to be their most valuable task?"

"Inanswerable. Your question assumes an incorrect premise," Blossom says. "Humans do not structure their minds nor their society around outwardly or collectively imposed tasks. Their tasks are self-determined and often selfish in nature. Young humans are therefore given time to learn about as many tasks as possible, and even space to invent their own tasks, before being expected to act as a fully sufficient colony of one."

Concern and even fear flow through the air around the colony. I can't help but smile and shake my head a little. They're always like this.

"That is horrifying," Suffering Shared Is Joy says bluntly.

"Most humans, it seems, would be of the opinion that it is our culture that is horrifying," Blossom informs them. "Their minds and bodies are built for individuality, freedom, and self-determination. Most of them would consider a life as a worker in one of our colonies intrinsically unjust. They are simply not made for it. They seek novelty and stimulation rather than harmony and stability. It seems wrong, but it is clear our gods love them for it."

"It is true; she has a proper blessing and the proper strength for a Princess," Equality is Impenetrable comments, her domain suffusing us and poking at Ana. Ana goes stiff for a moment, instinctively blocking the foreign domain out, which seems to make the Queen a bit sad.

"These are some of the many reasons our mission is so important," Blossom presses. "If we are to integrate these human chosen into our colonies, we must be able to understand and accommodate them. It will be a challenge, but it will be a particular challenge for you, since your Princess is so young. They learn differently from us, too. They grow differently. They have many stages of their life cycle that each impact them gradually but inevitably over time. She may simply look smaller than the other humans, but it is more than that. We will need to be very careful integrating some way for her new body to develop and grow over time as humans are built to do. The following designs have been proposed by my Queen, which we will discuss presently…"

I silently send Blossom my thanks and appreciation for taking care of everything and keeping the colony occupied while Ana plays. She gives little more than an acknowledgement, the sentiment largely lost in the tide of communication between nearly every member of the colony, but that's more than enough for me. What matters is that Ana gets this chance to be happy.

She'll… probably get plenty more chances, of course. We're going to be here for a long time, and though I'm going to spend most of that time getting dissolved and reassembled, the others will have plenty of time to hang out and goof around. Ana deserves it, especially after… well, everything. She lost her whole family. She gained a power that not just encourages but often requires her to hurt herself to use it. She was forced to fight in a war, to be forged into a soldier, to fight and kill and watch people she cares about die. Her life has been harder than anyone's. It's not fair. It's not fair.

It's… not fair.

The thought clings in the back of my mind for the next few hours, even after Ana finally tires herself out and we take a break from playing to scavenge up something to eat. (Thank goodness for canned food. There's just something about the apocalypse that makes hoarders a lot more common than they might otherwise be.) Before I know it, though, it's time.

"The Queen is ready for you, Twisted Scars Reshape Fate," Blossom tells me.

"I'm on my way," I tell her, getting up to leave.

"Alright, it's time," I tell everyone. 

"Already?" Ana asks.

"I'm afraid so," I nod. "But I'll see you before you know it, Ana, alright? And you'll have everyone else in the meantime."

"I get to spend time with everyone else a lot," Ana says sadly. "I only get you for a little bit."

Oh. I guess she's right. 

It's not fair.

"It is the way it is," I say. "But I'll do everything I can to make sure we have more time to play with each other in the future, okay?"

"…Okay, if you promise," Ana frowns.

"I promise," I nod, then take off into the sky towards the center of the Queen's domain.

Equality is Impenetrable sprawls all the way across the city, but it's not hard to follow the winding paths of giant thorned vines back to their source. The core of her body is much like the rest of her, but rather than sprawling it is a tangled knot. Yet no matter how the vines coil and wind, no matter how impossible it seems to follow one single path in the Gordian mess, each thorn that pierces flesh is itself pierced by a partner. 

"Greetings, Equality is Impenetrable," I say as I arrive.

"Greetings, Twisting Scars Reshape Fate," she responds to me in turn. "Follow given directions to your destination."

She gives me a path through the tangles to her womb, which I quickly fly through and land in front of. Soon enough, I'm through that fleshy airlock and once again immersed in that near-miraculous living broth of rebirth. My body becomes a match of Anastasia's, and I settle in to wait for it all to come apart.

Human nerves aren't really designed to get disassembled without quite a bit of agony, but Blossom has already laid the groundwork for teaching the Queen how to avoid that particular problem as the process goes on. There's very little for me to do other than float here, paying careful attention to the Queen's process for as long as I still have a functional enough brain to manage it. Most of the time, at least, I won't, which is somewhat of a blessing because I'll likely be in here for weeks.

Not that I can't think without a brain, or with only part of a brain. It just gets a little weird.

It's fine, though. No matter how bad it is, no matter what maddened hallucinations the failed attempts leave me with, it'll be worth it in the end. Harmony and communication are the keys to the end of the war. That's what it's all about, isn't it? The end of the war. The end of the tragedy. There are so many spots where all of this could have been prevented if things had only gone a little differently. So many opportunities where the right alien asking the right question or the right human with the right power could have changed history. But that's the problem, I guess. That human and that alien are both me.

No. No, Maria and I talked about this. It's not just me, not anymore. It's her, and it's Blossom, and it's Peter, and soon it's going to be Anastasia, too. It's going to be my colony and it's going to be all of their colonies, and it's going to be the colonel who found us on the road and asked us to help stop a coup. If I keep thinking about this like it's only me who can do anything, none of it will ever work.

The Queen's first attempt is no better than what happened to Maria. I'm a little annoyed, given how much effort we went to teaching her beforehand, but this is the reason that the first attempt is on me and not Anastasia. Apparently, completely restructuring the entirety of someone's brain and body does not come as naturally to most people as it does to me. And ultimately, no matter how good anyone gets at this, there's always a chance that a mistake will be made when it matters most. Maria has been changed on a fundamental level. She will never be the person she used to be. Peter, outwardly, seems identical to who he was, but for all we know there's some hidden yet terrifyingly impactful difference in the structure of how he thinks that will never make itself clear until several years down the line. We aren't just repairing the Ship of Theseus, we're retrofitting it into an entirely different class of vessel. This, most people would argue, is objectively not the same ship. I've been dealing with this fear since I first got my powers, but I recently learned I never had to be afraid at all.

It's not fair. Why does Ana have to take a risk that I've secretly been above this whole time?

Over and over, I am made and remade. The Queen and I talk at length about her mistakes, huge chunks of information passing between us by a method more rich than words to try and condense it all into something comprehensible. The network truly is miraculous, in the most literal sense of the word. Just as I am cradled within the Queen, I am also cradled within the domain of Reciprocation, so perhaps it is the constant press of karma at the edge of my thoughts that keeps me coming back to the same three words.

It's not fair.

"Casual observation: we will need to be abnormally careful when designing this reverent form even in spite of the circumstances considering that Reciprocation has already lent its will to the body," the Queen comments.

"You're referring to how the young one's powers changed her body's appearance, right?" I clarify. "Is that common among your people?"

"Not at all, though it has happened in the past," the Queen explains. "Usually in such cases, we do not impose our own idea of a reverent form on the blessed at all. Especially in a case like this, where the nature of the form makes the intent of our god particularly clear. Do you think our Princess would approve of the name Wrathful Wounds Strike Their Afflictors?"

Even if she does, I certainly wouldn't, though I guess my opinion wouldn't normally be considered in this sort of thing.

"Wouldn't it be superior to redesign her body such that she does not need to hurt herself to use her blessing?" I ask.

"Absolutely not," the Queen insists. "Reciprocation's will is clear: to hurt, one must be hurt."

It's not fair.

"It is the very definition of fair," the Queen argues. "Now, shall we resume the tests?"

I assent, though I can't help but be angry. The definition of fair? Whose definition? Because if this is how Reciprocation sees things, I think it's owed quite a bit of pain. No one else has a limitation like this. No one else has to maim themselves to use their abilities. It's just her. And that, self-evidently, is the very definition of unfair.

I continue to seethe as the days carry on and my brainlessness tears the world into a land of dreams. The passage of time happens at whatever rate it chooses, my own consciousness constantly changing states and flavors. Though when the days end, I often still need to sleep. I have a real brain, tucked away safe, immune to all of this pain, and it must rest.

And so, after several days of quiet rage, I eventually find myself floating somewhere very familiar, slowly sinking towards the loving embrace of everything and anything. Hello, Possibility. It's been a while. How're the kids?

The greeting I get in return almost doesn't obliterate me, but once I exist again I am left with the general impression that Possibility is having a grand old time. Which, y'know, great. Being The God of Whatever seems to make one rather easy to please, but I'll take it. Though I'm afraid it's not you I have a bone to pick with, boss. Any chance I could go yell at Reciprocation and probably get annihilated in response?

YeS, the universe answers.

Cool. Was that like a 'there is indeed a small chance, thank you for noticing' sort of yes or a 'sure, let me put you in a group chat right now' sort of yes?

yEs, my body shudders, and then I realize something I've known all along.

I want to talk to Reciprocation. Therefore, Reciprocation wants to talk to me.

The entirety of the dream changes. The ever-shifting chaos of Possibility's realm fades like water washing away ink, and soon I exist in a land of equals and opposites, planetoids circling around each other in perfect synchronization or crashing into each other to identically catastrophic results. As I start to fall towards the presence at the center of it all, it starts to fall towards me, yet neither of us seem to get any closer. A much more familiar force keeps us apart: Possibility's hands on my shoulders grip with a gentle tightness like a father holding a child who wants to look over the edge of a cliff.

Reciprocation says nothing. I haven't spoken yet.

"It's not fair," I tell it bluntly.

"It is fair," it tells me bluntly.

"You are hurting one of your most loved even though you could simply choose not to," I argue.

"I'm not hurting my most loved, for power is something she can choose not to use," it argues.

"The world chooses for her. She doesn't get to."

"The world does what it wills. She then reciprocates."

"Which is it, then?" I demand. "Those are two different answers."

"Is it not either?" it demands. "Those are two different reciprocations."

I almost yell at it, but I'm going about this all wrong, aren't I? It's not a person, not really, it's a force. You don't demand things of the laws of the universe. You just figure out how they work and apply them to your advantage.

And so, as I consider Reciprocation, it considers me. It evaluates me, what it wants from me, and how best to twist me to its purposes in precisely the same way I intend for it. But you know what? That's fine by me. All I care about is breaking this thing's obsession with hurting my little sister.

"Let's make a deal, you and I," I offer.

"Let's work as one, me and you," it offers.

"The world has hurt Ana enough," I claim. "She is owed the right to hurt it if she chooses."

"Repaying debts is reciprocation in full," it claims. "But a debt cannot have an endlessly large ledger to mark."

"Let her use something other than blood," I insist.

"Her dominion is exclusively that of blood," it insists.

"Allow her a way to use blood without pain," I compromise. "She loves you. Return her loyalty with loyalty."

"Spilled blood incurs a debt without needing her pain," it compromises. "I love her. Her loyalty is my loyalty."

That's… enough, right? That's enough. Some body design that gives her the ability to extrude blood without needing to cut herself should work just fine. If she is cut, if she is injured, she will get stronger as she always has. But just the baseline ability to use her blessing without being hurt will go so, so far towards letting her see herself as more than a weapon. Towards letting her see her power as more than just a tool for revenge. I just want to help her.

And so, Reciprocation agrees to help me. Pain is not evil to it, it is simply something to return with pain. Likewise, happiness is not something good to it, it is merely something to return with happiness. Reciprocation, the god and essence of mirrored responses, of just vengeance, and of charitable recompense, holds little in the way of its own opinions. But in this, we officially have an accord. It's not perfect, but I think I can approve of a god like this.

"You're not perfect," it says, "but I think I can approve of a blessed like you."

I wake up.

"Jubilation: I believe I've figured it out this time!" the Queen informs me the moment I do. "Reciprocation has responded to my effort with effort."

Well, imagine that. I give her the go-ahead, and the next four transformations to my body all work perfectly. I think we're actually ready. Even better, none of them require my sister to be hurt.

"I thought you said designs like this would go against Reciprocation's will," I say, mostly out of curiosity since I'm pretty sure I know what she's going to tell me.

"Reciprocation and I worked through the designs together while I slept," Equality is Impenetrable says. "It is a rare and glorious blessing. I must find some way to repay you for this, in addition to everything else you have done for us."

"You already know what we desire in return," I remind her.

"Even participation in such a sweeping alliance is beginning to feel insufficient," the Queen argues. "Something has changed. I am not certain what, but something has changed. We owe you more."

I'm not certain what to say to that, but I suppose it's a good thing so there's no need to overthink it. …As much as I still hate the idea that 'thinking too much' is even possible, but whatever.

Soon enough, I'm taking my first breath of air in several weeks, which is simultaneously reassuring and utterly discombobulating. I suppose the others were all alerted in advance of my exit (which is just sort of obvious now that I think about it) so they're all waiting for me when I emerge in my goopy glory.

"Julietta!" Anastasia cheers, tackling me with a running jump-hug that forces me to grow an extra pair of legs for a little bit so I don't get bowled over.

"Hey, Ana," I say, giving her a tight squeeze. "We're ready when you are."

"I don't have to be in there for as long as you, right?" she asks.

"No, it'll be a few days at most," I assure her.

"It's not gonna hurt, is it?"

She already knows the answer to this, but she doesn't know the most important part.

"It's not going to hurt," I promise her. "And once it's done you're never going to have to hurt yourself again, either."

She stares at me, uncomprehending.

"Huh?"

"Your body is going to be different," I tell her. "You aren't going to need to cut yourself to use your powers."

"But… but that's the point," she insists, looking a little distressed. "It shouldn't be easy."

"No one said anything about easy," I say. "If you have to fight someone, that's going to be hard no matter how much it hurts. But you and your powers are more than just their capacity to hurt other people. You can protect people, you can help people, and you can even just have fun all by yourself if you want to. You deserve to be able to use your abilities just like anyone else."

"B-but what about the Reciprocation stuff?" she asks.

"You don't need to worry about that either," I tell her, putting her down and ruffling her hair. "Reciprocation and I had a long and fruitful talk about that."

I feel Blossom's attention suddenly center on me, both through the network and just the weight of her expression. It might be the most intense stare I've ever received from her, and Blossom has always been a woman of extremes.

"You what?" she hisses.

"Possibility helped me talk to Reciprocation," I tell her. "Is that… bad?"

She doesn't break her stare, an awkward silence extending over several seconds as her thoughts race so quickly I can barely keep up with everything she's considering.

"…No," she says, though she sounds no less concerned. "Not bad."

Right. Well. I'll talk with her about that later. Right now, it's time to get Ana situated and time for me to pass the fuck out. Being an alien test subject is exhausting. And so is talking to gods, for that matter. I need a more relaxing sleep after all of that.

"A Blossom of Wilted Chances, about what you were—"

"Halt communications," Blossom orders the Reciprocation colony. "Twisting Scars Reshape Fate requires rest. We will discuss afterwards."

"Are you trying to keep something from me, A Blossom of Wilted Chances?" I ask.

"Yes," Blossom answers. "Go to bed."

Should I…? No. I trust Blossom. Not trusting Blossom would be ridiculous. So I just nod, transform into a cat, nuzzle Anastasia's leg a bit, and then hop up into Maria's arms to secure myself an ideal sleeping spot.

The next time I wake, it will probably be because Anastasia has been changed forever. As her guardian, and as her sister, I can only hope that after everything I've done, it will be a change for the better.