frozen

A pair of metal talons ripped through a canvas tent in the deep desert, shattering poles and crushing the metal inside. Shredded rugs and fabric flew off with the wind. Dented segments off brass armor glimmered as they fell in a pile with kitchen supplies and cracked picture frames containing portraits of the Mason clan. The colossal construct pointed an acrlight down at its handiwork and began to sift meticulously through the remains.

A small wooden framed picture of an earlier Qlippothic - one of a Victorian lady in her finest garments, carefully tailored to fit the coal grate on her abdomen and the twin smokestacks looming over her back - rolled clumsily away in the rising wind, tracing a line of indentations in the sand, only inches away from the ankle of the real Qlippothic. On this night she had become completely human save for the turbine surgically fastened to the small of her back, a grim necessity should she suddenly shift to a construct form with no power source at hand. Her leather and linen dress was draped by the ever-present wind around the rioutous colors the red headed gypsy she was embracing. She held her tightly not out of love, but fear.

The gypsy clutched the silver amulet hanging below her multihued scarf, whispering an enchantment of invisibility. Qli felt her skin hardening to metal, the metallic spreading from her engine in all directions until at least her hair vanished beneath her reflective mask. The beauty of the setting crimson sun behind them was ripped away by the arclight suddenly pointed towards them. No movement by the walking behemoth. Qli and Lynn's intertwined shadows stretched across the sand.

Qli did not finish scooping Lynn into her arms in the instant the monstrosity lunged at them, claws at the ready.

with a silver whistle and a golden scale

I heard the distinct roar of Ash's jetpack engine outside my tent. I rushed to greet him, and remembered to bow as the local custom. My nanobytes were still malfunctioning, and I did not wish to accidentally damage him again through direct contact. He drew a parchment from his belt as his wings retracted behind him.

"The translation on this invitation is poor, but its essence is nonetheless disturbing."

I was taken aback by the twinge of anger in his normally measured voice.

"This Magistrate of yours," he continued, "is she a Heterodyne?"

I shook my head. "She has never made such a claim."

"It is not her place then to judge who is a 'true' Jäger."

"Ash... No one is questioning your service to the Jägerpatrol."

"I am a discrepancy, which must be rectified."

I demanded an elaboration.

"There is already a time-displaced Jäger in our family line. She is living proof that the brau is compatible with Mason DNA, which still resides in my soul-chip."

Before I could question him further, he spread his wings with a sandstorm and vanished in a sonic boom.

a haiku floating on the night's chill

Now? I feel human.
Love's warmth sifts through my fingers
like Mondrago's sands.

Next Stop: Cala Mondrago

"Are you sure this is my only chance, Father?"

"I'm afraid so, Qli. We're going to prepare you for cryogenic suspension. Keep this mask over your nose and mouth. Good. I want you count backwards from ten..."



"Qli? It's Koen. Steady now...don't get up too fast."

"Steelhead...?"

"Not anymore. We're in Cala Mondrago."



"So this is where I'll spend the rest of my days?"

"Don't make it sound like that! It's a nice little place. They've got a direct trade route with Caledon! Okay, it may not be Kittiswitch or Steelhead but it's not Babbage smog either. But you're still in the Steamlands. I've checked the place out. They've got a club and a cafe and some Spark-shops. You won't run out of oil or food."

"But my family? My friends?"

"Hey hey hey hey! You're still a little off kilter from being frozen. I told you they trade with Caledon? I've seen a lot of familiar faces here escaping the winter. I even saw Emperor Squid at the cafe!"

"Steelcobra Calamari?"

"Yes! And the folks here are real friendly. There's a...what did they call her? Well she's a princess. Her name's Bianca. You should go talk to her. Maybe she can get you a job at the club."

"Who is going to want to see me like this?"

He doubled over laughing.

"Everybody? Listen...we don't have any monsters to fight at the moment and the Revenge is still in drydock. I'm going to stay here with you. I'll be fine here. This is just like my Mom's place in Heliopolis. Except it's not a dictatorship. And I don't have a legion of servants. But that's beside the point..."

That was three weeks ago. One demonstration later, and I'm a performer at the Laughing Djinn. Please come and visit me if you would.



Best wishes for the New Year.

Sincerely,

Qlippothic

When it's cold outside am I here in vain?

I stepped out of the Consulate into Steelhead square. I heard the wet crunch of snow beneath my bare feet and felt the sting against bare skin. Flakes floated silently all around me. Everything was coated in white, amplifying the glow of the gaslamps and flickering candles in windows.

I have never felt the cold. I have never smelled the crisp winter air or the scent of pine needles. Not long ago I could have calculated the density of the snowflakes and recorded the patterns of every flake. But now, it was simply overwhelming.

"You'll catch your death of cold out here. Go inside, child."

Red wings wrapped around me like a cloak, radiating warmth. I had just enough space to turn to behold the Elder's face of alabaster, kohl and crimson.

"But...but how...?"

"Is this not the time for miracles, Sweet Qli?"

His wings grew translucent from a growing brilliance nearby.

"Beg pardon," interrupted the angel. "I have a delivery for Miss Qlippothic from Velvel's Shanghai Bazaar?"

save me from the nothing i've become

I watched the Sephiroth vanish one by one, pulled away by the angel. The mindscape of my introspection mode plunged into darkness. Were the nightmares still cutting through the lenses? No. There were no sparks from their cutting tools. I've lost fear. What part of me will dissolve next in this poison? How much more can I lose before I cease to be?

I feel? Warmth? A heartbeat?

Well, well, well. At least I won't die alone.

"Marcus?"

Yes. I am trapped inside this abomination as well.

Light again. In the lenses are irises not my own.

"You are...wearing my faceplate?"

I grabbed the first thing I could find. I didn't know you were still using it. I hope you don't mind. It is keeping my soul intact a while
longer.

"Does this mean you are possessing me?"

On the contrary. You have nothing left to possess. And my astral form can't pierce this...mess. If anything, it is you who are possessing me. Look closely. I need to show you something.

Holograms inside the orbs. Face to face across a chessboard. Crossed épées behind wire masks.

Should you survive, deliver these to my brother if you would be so kind.

"How can this be? You and he were raised separately."

So we both assumed. But only now as our psychic barriers dissolve do I remember what Father forced us to forget. We would have murdered each other. It was the the most humane choice.

"Why is there always bloodlust between you? This cannot entirely be the fault of the bloodline!"

There was...an incident.

"Show me. I will not judge you."

Shadows. Rending of lace. Hands pinning declawed paws.

"By the Founder..."

She was a catalyst, for me as well as Darien.

"Do you...regret this?"

Do you regret having a brother?

"Are you saying that Koen is...yours?"

Half a chance...

I felt his soul starting to fade.

"Hang on!"

I cannot. You have no shell, and this one is left behind. I bequeath this body to you. Use my powers to harness what's left of your healing factor. Do with it what you will. Good luck.

The double helix rose and spiraled around me. I did not even have a moment to protest. My perceptions shifted to the other side of the mask, staring through living eyes to where my image was blurring from metal to flesh. The chromosomes were damaged, but repairable. I dispatched healing nanobytes - which appeared to me as copies of my previous metallic form. A scan of the blood circulation revealed somewhere, something was dripping reanimation serum into these veins, along with more malevolent cells. This form would have become a drone had I not taken the previous owner's place. That is when I noticed the Pandoran cells, swarming through like bees searching relentlessly through the vines of a trellis.

"Stop that this instant! I do NOT need GILLS!"

the world is just illusion trying to change you

My boiler exploded from the demands of prying Ya Yimawa's sharklike maw open with all my limbs until it cracked. Nothing I have ever encountered - from the inferno of Erebus to the radioactive wastes of Earth's devastated future - could rival the horror of what I saw inside that beast. How quickly, then, did the souls of its victims fly out to the freedom of their promised afterlives! Their gratefulness whispered as they vanished was more than worth the cost to this, my shredded chassis. Ama had worked her magic and destroyed its soulcage just as Dr. Beck's spirit escaped.

My last victim, Shiny Toy!

A sickening snap. Loss of connection to body. A fraction of a second in that primordial abyss before the monster discorporated, and my elevation dropped. I landed on the wreckage that was once my own abdomen, saving me the indignity of sinking into the polluted muck. Power supply was fading quickly. Last instructions to Ama.

Closing cranial display. Adjusting to internal perception. Standby...

I perceive myself as intact, but I am not actually whole again. This spherical chamber I am in, full of damaged machinery spewing steam and smoke, with pipes spiralling around the Sephiroth that glow brightly above me like a celestial chandalier, is not literally the inside of my skull. But it does give me an accurate representation of how tenuous my existance has now become.

The gyroscope rolls wildly. I hold on tightly as the craft tumbles over itself again and again. Through the twin portholes in the outline of my eyes I see I am rolling into the water, mingling with human bones and filth. This can only mean that the boxcar is sliding into the bay. The Revenge would have no choice but to cut the air vent. There is pounding outside the chamber, from all directions.

There is...a mob outside the portals? Impossible! How can this be?

Who are they?

I see Bloodwing, cursing me as a traitor as he strikes his sword against the glass. The same sword he used to pierce my reactor core.

I see Grandfather in the black uniform from his dystopia of New Erebus, his eyes glowing beneath his goggles as he patiently grinds an energy blade into the translucent barrier.

The gentleman in the drab gray uniform with the brass buttons? An agent of the Labs. Carrying a warrant for my family's capture.

The other eye - there is Doctor Mason in his labcoat, I see from the tic in his brow and the glow behind his goggles that he demands to perform more destructive experiments on me.

Koen in his sleek ebony fur bloodied at the tips, scraping his claws down the glass, eyes burning red as coals and hissing as he displays his vampiric fangs.

Behind him, a pale Aleister in his outdated and frayed coat, gesturing for me to inspect the new porcelain skull he will place me in. Complete with fangs for extracting blood...to deliver to him.

Behind them swarms of wasp drones and Qlippothic clones.

Why would my subconscious be attempting to torment me? Especially in a survival situation such as this?

A chemical readout develops on one corroded panel. The water in this flooding chamber is polluted...from Ya Yimawa. When his body dissolved, its conents mingled with these waters.

I am stewing in the gastric juices of a soul eater. Much like the jellyfish, the death of the creature does not render its venom inert. Despite the images beyond the eyes, it know the toxins have already made contact with my soul chip. If I am not rescued it will corrode the circuitry that defines my psyche, and my identity will...dissolve.

I have never seen fit to pray for aid from undetectable sources. But now, it is my only recourse, if only a distraction.

I can hear their voices now. My voice quavers.

The Lord is my...