I remained quiet for a moment, replaying everything I'd just heard. The room felt strangely smaller now.
"...Where are they now?" I asked.
Himiko tilted her head. "The General?"
I nodded.
"They're under MEI supervision. We moved them to a secure holding facility after the interrogation."
"...Are they alright?"
Kaoru blinked.
"I mean..." I searched for the right words. "They're not being... tortured or anything, are they?"
Himiko's expression softened. "No." She answered without hesitation. "We're not like that."
I let out a breath I hadn't realised I'd been holding. "...Good."
Silence settled over the room once again. After everything I'd seen on Ourelieth… I couldn't stop thinking about that veteran. About the children. The families.
I doubt the general is innocent.
But…
Neither am I.
I used to think heroes were supposed to know when they were doing the right thing.
"...Do you think..." I hesitated. "Could I meet them one day?"
Kaoru looked towards Himiko.
She folded her arms. "Ordinarily? No." She shook her head. "The facility is restricted to authorised MEI personnel."
"...Oh."
"But..." she continued, "...the Purple Entity isn't exactly ordinary."
Kaoru grinned.
"If you were working with us, I imagine we could pull a few strings." Himiko gave a small wink. "You'd probably be granted special access."
I smiled faintly. "...Maybe one day."
Himiko stood, straightening her jacket. "We should get going."
Kaoru pushed his chair back with a yawn. "Yeah... we've definitely overstayed our welcome." He smiled at Krista. "Thanks for having us."
Krista shook her head, "No-no, no worries. Erm… it was just a surprise, is all."
Himiko's face softened, "Again, I'm sorry we had to do it this way."
"It's fine." I said sternly, "I understand—you've gotta do what you gotta do."
Kaoru let out a small laugh. Himiko elbowed him gently before giving me a warm smile and heading through the kitchen door.
Walking them out, Krista glanced at me, silently mouthing "thank god". I breathed a small laugh in response, watching them walk out the front door.
As the front door finally closed, Krista waltzed back into the kitchen. "Phew," she sighed, "I definitely didn't have an international government visit on my bucket list."
"What do you mean? That's just a Tuesday."
Krista shook her head, bearing a small grin on her face. "This is all a bit too crazy for me."
"I have a feeling that this isn't the end… sorry."
"What do you have to apologise for, hero?"
I raised a brow.
Krista yawned, "Well, I'm off to bed. We'll talk some more tomorrow, 'kay?"
"Yeah, goodnight."
"G'Night." Krista waved as she left the kitchen. A few moments later, I heard the thud of her door closing.
The fridge hummed quietly, joined by the faint buzz of the flickering kitchen light.
The apartment suddenly felt larger.
All alone again.
I slowly rose from my seat. Meandering through the kitchen, I grabbed a bag of salted crisps from the cupboard and opened them on the way to the sofa by the window.
As I sat down, I gazed out at the motorway below. Rows of streetlights painted the streets in a gold hue, lighting up the way for the cars that passed through.
I grabbed a single crisp from the bag and placed it in my mouth.
I gagged instantly.
"Oh, right… I forgot."
With a deep sigh, I spat the crisp back into the packet and threw it down on the coffee table. Crisps sprawled out on the table.
As I sat back, the leather sofa groaned, absorbing me into its presence. I looked up, eyeballing the cracks and dents in the ceiling. How many of the previous tenants sat here and looked up at the ceiling like this? Did that crack exist three tenants ago? When did that chip in the ceiling appear? Did one of the other tenants do that?
The back cushion embraced my head. I can't remember the last time I actually sat and relaxed. My arms felt numb; it felt like my legs weren't even there.
…Wait.
I lifted my leg.
No, they're still there.
So much information. I've learned so much. It's hard to even comprehend it all. It feels like when you've gotta pay bills for the first time. You're suddenly expected to know what you're doing, even though nobody's ever taught you. I'm not ready for all of this. I've been thrust into a world I never even thought could exist before I had the chance to understand it…
A fly buzzed around the room, landing in the centre of the wall.
How long has it been now?
I don't even know, man…
…
Three months. Yet it barely felt like a day. All those planets. Blue Lantern. Glassheart. Nebulae that stretched across the cosmos. Billions of stars.
…Stars.
The bright flash drilled into my mind.
No.
I shouldn't think about that.
It's fine.
I should just relax.
Relaxing my head against the cushion, I looked at the ceiling again. Why couldn't they take my memories of the past three months rather than being able to eat? I wish I could just chow down on a chocolate bar right now. Or even the crisps on the table. But it's like my body isn't even mine anymore, a vessel for this… Aethesium bullshit.
…
Vessel.
The General did say—
No, no, no. I'm not gonna think.
I'm just gonna sit, relax and stare at the ceiling.
…
The clock ticked gently.
With all the paint bubbles, it almost looks as though I'm staring at stars in the sky. Hey, that looks like a cluster over there. I swear I saw something like that when I was up there.
I breathed a small laugh.
I really can't stop thinking about it, can I?
Rolling my head to the side, I faced the window once again.
As I sat and stared down at the motorway, I lost count of how many cars I'd seen pass. Fewer and fewer cars passed. Eventually, they stopped coming.
The world sleeps.
But…
I can't. As though I'm just a visitor. A passerby. I didn't look at the clock to see how much time had passed. Instead, I gazed up at the moon, tracing the craters lining its porcelain surface.
I wonder if you can see where I crash-landed from here.
The Moon hung motionless.
I let my eyes drift shut. Maybe if I stopped thinking…
Maybe I'd finally—
My right hand twitched.
I frowned. Slowly, I lifted it in front of my face. Purple light seeped between my fingers like smoke. It wrapped around my skin before sinking beneath it once again.
…Aethesium.
So this is what's keeping me alive now—made me unable to eat. Or sleep. I closed my fist. This is what I've become.
I'm a vessel.
The general said there were more. A blue one. A yellow one. A green one. Even more… Just like Tom and me.
And the blue one…
Himiko said she had come face to face with it.
Why have I never even heard of them if they're just like me.
I looked up.
Why have you never told me about any of this?
REMEMBER WHAT I TOLD YOU.
So you are here.
I'LL ALWAYS BE HERE.
Creepy. But, hey, what are you talking about? What did you tell me?
YOU WILL FIND OUT WHEN THE TIME IS RIGHT.
AND THAT TIME IS SOON.
SOON YOU WILL MEET THE BLUE ENTITY.
YOU AND TOM.
And then I'll become even less human from there.
…
What? No response?
HAVE NO FEAR.
YOU WILL ALWAYS BE HUMAN.
YOU ARE…
SPECIAL.
I sat up.
Special? Is that what this advent's about? Will you destroy everyone but humans?
ADVENT?
THERE IS NO SUCH THING.
YOU ARE ACCEPTING THE WORDS OF A MANIPULATOR.
I HAVE NO INTENTION OF ERASING ANY LIFEFORM.
NOR DO I EVEN HAVE THE POWER TO DO SO.
But that's why you have us. Right?
YOU YEARN TO HELP THOSE AROUND YOU, GEORGE.
THAT'S WHY I CHOSE YOU.
NOT TO BE A DESTROYER.
THE CALENARIANS HAVE BEEN MANIPULATED BY ULTRUA'IS, THE SCOURGE YOU ARE DESTINED TO FREE THIS UNIVERSE FROM.
THUS, YOU SHOULD NOT TAKE THEIR WORDS TO HEART.
You've been pretty chatty recently. What happened to the broody mysterious God from before? I chuckled.
But if you don't want to 'erase' any lifeform…
Why did you ask me to kill the Calenarians?
The fly on the wall rubbed its front legs together. The light hummed overhead. The fly flew off.
UNFORTUNATELY, DESTROYING THE CALENARIANS WAS GOOD FOR HUMANITY.
YOU BELIEVED OTHERWISE.
TRUSTING THAT ANOTHER OUTCOME WOULD ARISE.
SO I NEVER PRESSED THE ISSUE.
I stared at my hand again. The purple light lingered beneath my skin.
…Sure.
I guess you didn't, did you? And you never stopped me from saving that falling ship either.
I sighed.
I don't know any of your intentions. You're so vague all the time. I'm not saying I think you're evil; I just wish you'd be a little clearer.
GEORGE,
I APOLOGISE FOR MY SCARCE COMMUNICATION, BUT YOU MUST UNDERSTAND THAT I DO NOT COMMUNICATE THE SAME WAY YOU HUMANS DO.
JUST KNOW THAT I HAVE FULL FAITH IN YOU.
I didn't say another word. God has become a lot kinder recently. Why? Before, they'd appear randomly in my head, say something vague, give specific information, then leave.
Is it because of the trials?
Something to do with Ourelieth?
Wait… They're probably listening now, aren't they…
There was no response.
Maybe their attention is elsewhere. I remember during the invasion they said Ultrua'is took something. So maybe God does have other matters it focuses on.
And Tom mentioned them as well. Does every vessel have contact with God?
I passed my fingers through my hair and sighed.
I don't even care anymore; I just want things to go back to normal.
As I turned to look outside once more, my eyes widened. The sky had shifted into white, gradating into gold that peeked through the rising skyscrapers of the city.
Before I knew it…
The night had passed.
I sat here all night without even realising it.
A few hours later, the kitchen door opened, and a familiar face walked in.
"George? You've been here all night?" Krista asked, brows furrowed.
"Well… it turns out I can't sleep either."
"Oh God, that's horrible."
Yeah…
Oh God indeed.
"Do you not feel tired at all?" She continued.
"Nope. I think this… Aethesium is my new fuel now."
Her eyes wandered down to the opened crisp packet on the coffee table. As soon as she pieced two and two together, her face creased. I looked down and realised what it was she was looking at.
I shrugged.
"So… still nothing then."
"Nah, I forgot about it and grabbed it out of habit." I laughed nervously, "And then gagged instantly."
Krista opened a food cupboard and pulled out a loaf of bread. "Is there any way you can fix it?"
"Not that I know," I leaned back into the sofa, looking up at the ceiling, "I wish there was someone who could tell me."
She stopped—placed down the loaf of bread and moved to the sofa, leaning over the arm. "How did you even get these powers?"
I thought back and snorted. "Where do I even begin?" How do I tell her? A voice came to me one day in the rain and gave me powers?
"Can't be that complicated. Radioactive spider? Science experiment?" She gasped sarcastically, "Are you an alien?"
I shook my head. I've never been happier to hear Krista's voice.
"No, no, I'm not an Alien." I thought back to where it all began. "Alright, I'll tell you."
She sat down instantly.
The speed at which she sat down caught me off guard.
"Erm... well." I cleared my throat. "The powers..." I scratched the back of my neck. "...aren't really where the story starts."
Krista waited.
"To explain that... I kinda have to explain my best friend first."
She raised a brow.
"Harry." I smiled faintly. "We'd known each other since we were kids." The smile faded. "...He wasn't a bad person." I frowned. "...No. That's not right either."
"Sounds complicated."
"It is; we met in football training when we were seven, but we didn't really become friends until we were about eight or nine. Then we'd go to each other's houses after training, playing video games, going house parties; we were inseparable. But…"
I took a deep breath, gathering my thoughts in one place.
"We..." I closed my eyes and braced myself. "...weren't very good... people. In fact, we bullied others for our enjoyment."
She just listened.
"I hated it..." I clenched my eyes. "But he was my best friend. I just wished we didn't have to…"
I felt a warmth on my hand. I opened my eyes. It was her hand on mine.
"George. It's high school; we've all done stupid shit. And you clearly aren't the same."
"Thanks," I whispered. "But I can't see it that way. I did horrible things."
"And now, you do good things."
I smiled wearily. "...Maybe."
Silence settled between us for a moment.
"You still miss him?"
The words caught me off guard. "...Yeah." I didn't even try to deny it. "I don't know when he changed." I stared at the floor. "Or... maybe he was always like that and I just never saw it." I rubbed my thumb against my palm. "The older we got, the more he started picking on people. It'd start with little comments... then it'd turn into embarrassing someone in front of everyone else."
"You joined in?"
I nodded. "I laughed. Made jokes. Sometimes I'd start it." My stomach twisted. "Every time I told myself I'd say something to him afterwards."
"But you never did."
"...No."
"Why?"
I laughed bitterly. "…It's stupid. I thought I'd lose my popularity."
She frowned.
"Harry was the most popular kid in school. And being friends with him made me popular. I was worried that if I lost him, I'd be the one getting picked on."
I looked out towards the window.
"Then it all changed one day."
"Really?"
"Yeah." I paused for a moment. "It was on his eighteenth birthday. I met a guy like a day before, or something—remember him."
Krista's eyes lit up.
"What? Why, what happened?"
"Well," I dove into my memories, "he was a kid from school; I never spoke to him before, but I recognised him. He was drawing—"
"Ah, I see," Krista smirked. "It was love at first sight?"
I snorted "Must've been."
"And you joined in?"
"Yep, I drew something in his sketchbook."
"Was it good?"
I looked at her, raising a brow. "You know who you're talking to?"
Krista laughed, "That was the old George, though; you might've been shit back then."
"That was probably my prime—I slowed after that day. I only started picking it up again in uni"
"Good, you look like you enjoy it when you do it. Now, what happened at this party then?"
I placed my elbows on my knees. "Harry got very drunk."
"Uh-oh."
My jaw tightened. "And somehow, the kid from before got there."
Krista's brows lowered.
"Harry found his sketchbook, and he started making fun of it."
Her smile faded.
The room was quiet enough that I could hear the fridge humming again.
"He ripped the pages out. He started parading one around, laughing and mocking it. Guess which one it was."
"Yours."
"I was furious. I asked him to give it back. But he tore the book in half. And what landed at my feet… was my drawing."
"…George."
"Then I just punched him. I didn't even think about it." I looked down at my hands. "I hadn't even clocked it until he slammed into the table behind him."
I paused.
"I'd wanted to tell him to stop for months. Maybe years." I swallowed. "And that was the first thing I ever actually said."
Krista squeezed my hand gently. "...What happened after that?"
"I left."
"Just... left?"
I nodded. "It was raining." My eyes drifted towards the window again, as though I could still see it. "I walked for a while. Didn't really know where I was going."
I hesitated. This was the part. Do I tell her? About the voice—God? About everything?
No.
Not yet.
"I..." I chose my words carefully. "…felt something"
"Something?"
"Like a burning—from my chest."
She frowned but didn't interrupt.
"It… was like something inside me was trying to break free."
I stared at the purple glow that briefly flickered beneath my fingertips.
"…Aethesium?" Krista asked.
"Well… yeah."
There was a moment of silence.
"What… and that was it?"
I nodded once.
"...Yeah."
"No spider bite?"
"No."
"No… strike of lightning—anything."
"No."
"…Shit, George. Maybe you are an alien."
I breathed out through my nose. I didn't respond, but I probably should've; I felt her gaze piercing me, as if she knew there was more that I wasn't telling her. But I can't tell her. If I told her God talked to me, asking me if I wanted the power to take my life back, she'd think I'm crazy.
But I can't leave it there.
"I flew. As far away as I could. Somehow, I ended up in Okopo."
"I heard about that, but I didn't think it was real."
"It was." I looked at her. "An alien ship, much smaller than the ones that came later."
I looked down at my hands. "Apparently, the guy I saved ended up being the guy who started MEI."
"Really?"
"Yeah, I can't remember his name… Deji—"
"Tosin Oladeji."
"Yeah, him, I heard in a speech, him talking about it. And of that, those two agents showed up at our door."
Krista blinked. "…Wow. When you put it like that…"
"Everything has happened so quickly. When I first saw those aliens, it was something unheard of. Now, I've been to their homeworld."
Krista looked away.
I continued. "A little over a year ago, I was just a normal kid, pissing around day in, day out." I let out a tired laugh. "Now… I've travelled through space, seeing things I heard about in textbooks, seeing life on other planets who have no idea about us…"
I stopped. As I realised something.
"It's like I'm becoming less human."
Krista grabbed my shoulder. "Don't be stupid, George. God, you make everything sound so normal." She wrapped her arms around me. "You 've saved so many people and shouldered everything alone. If you do that, then you will stop being human."
"Yeah… you're right. I'm an idiot."
"No." She looked me in the eye. "You're human."
"…Thanks."
She smiled and leaned back into her seat. "It stresses me out just thinking about it. God knows how you've lived like this."
"Yeah." I laughed. "It's been rough. I've tried to forget about the whole thing, but it never seemed to go away."
"Well, duh. Harry was important to you, and the fact that you still think about him shows that you still care about him."
I never even thought about that. I guess… I do still care about Harry. I don't hate him; I just wish things were different.
"Have you ever tried contacting him?"
"Huh? N-no… Not since the party."
"All that time you spent together isn't just gonna disappear; he probably thinks the same. Maybe he's changed."
"…I don't know."
"You never will unless you try to know."
"…You might be right."
No one said a word for a moment. We just sat and took everything in.
Krista looked at my new long ragged hair.
"You look homeless."
"What?" I chuckled.
"Your hair's so long now. It definitely doesn't suit."
"Well, there aren't any barbershops in space."
"I know someone on Earth—"
"You'd hope so."
"—who can cut it free of charge."
"What, got a cousin or something who's a barber?"
"Nope, she's looking right atcha."
"You can cut hair?"
"Yeah, I used to cut my friends' hair all the time."
"Let me guess, they all went mysteriously bald a day or two later."
"No, George, they said it was so good they just had to pay me," she raised her hands, mimicking these hypothetical people, "But I said, no, no, I can't, I can't."
I barked out a laugh, "I guess mine can't get any worse."
"It can get better, though."
I smiled. "Alright, fine, get your tools."
Krista shot to her feet, pumping a fist into the air. "Yes!"
I laughed. "Don't celebrate yet. You haven't even seen how bad it is."
"Trust me, George. In five minutes you'll look like a functioning member of society."
"That's a bold claim."
She scurried out of the kitchen.
I leaned back on the sofa, smiling to myself.
Maybe…
Maybe things really could get back to normal.
"HURGHHH!"
Tom leaned over the porcelain toilet, hurling out the contents of his stomach.
"Fuck." He mumbled, his pale face rising from the bowl.
He stumbled up. As he placed his hand on the toilet for support, an empty beer can tumbled to the floor, down to the stack below. The ping echoed across the silent bathroom, which glowed an icy white beneath the harsh ceiling light. On the walls, the small tiles merged together in Tom's blurred vision.
His eyes were puffy and red, barely able to stay open.
As he turned around, his visage met his gaze in the mirror. He leaned over the sink.
"What have I done?" His voice was shaky and disturbed.
He looked down at his leg, the one that used to be there. Then he placed his hand on his chest, where the bullets that should've killed him carved.
But he had that power—God had chosen him.
He had to do it.
Switching the sink on, Tom splashed cold water on his face, clasping his palms over his face. Those few seconds of pitch black were not enough to free him from the world, nor the dark thoughts that swirled in his mind.
But he couldn't look himself in the eye any longer.
So he didn't; turned to the bathroom door, switching off the light as he left the room behind.
But the rest of the apartment was no better.
He stumbled through the corridor, occasionally accidentally kicking the beer cans that littered the floor. The entire flat was dimly lit by a small sliver of sunlight that peeked in through the closed curtains. Grabbing the TV remote from the kitchen counter, he meandered to the sofa, falling into its embrace.
He switched the TV on. It was a quiz show; he stared blankly at the panel of contestants—a family who seemed happy to be there. Tom couldn't hear what they were saying. In fact, he could hear them; he was simply not listening. To him, their voices were only background noise to fill his mind with anything else.
He didn't even let them finish answering the question.
It wasn't enough.
He switched the channel.
It was a romcom from back home. Tom always hated how corny they were, but their accents reminded him of home. A home he hadn't thought about for a long time. It felt like he had a reason for coming to Groissaint—one he forgot a long time ago.
He switched the channel.
Again.
And again.
And again.
But it wasn't working; nothing could scratch that itch in his mind.
He pulled his phone out of his pocket. The screen illuminated his worn-out face in the dark room. Unread messages and other notifications filled his lock screen, but Tom didn't care to read them—he didn't feel like it.
Swiftly, he swiped through his phone, instinctively clicking on Instagram. He kept scrolling through the barrage of videos, not spending more than thirty seconds before swiping. Not a single noise came out of Tom. Not a laugh. Not a snort. Not even a forced exhale.
Boredom struck. He switched the phone off, chucking it beside him. The room was filled with the voices of the people on the TV; on whatever channel he left it on before his attention shifted to the phone.
He couldn't sit down anymore.
He had to move.
Tom stood up. There was nowhere in particular he wanted to go, but he walked. He walked over to the front door. He wrapped his fingers around the doorknob.
Then…
Nothing.
The distant voices of the TV bellowed. From behind the door, he heard people laughing as they walked through the corridor.
Their voices faded as they passed.
Tom let go of the handle.
"What the fuck am I doing?" He mumbled.
He moved into the kitchen, grabbing a bag of crisps out of the draw. Then he slumped back down on the sofa, munching on crisps. He looked around the room, cringing as he gazed upon the cans that littered the room. Despite the amount he drank, he felt fine—physically at least. He wasn't hungover. He didn't even feel drowsy. As a matter of fact, he never even felt tipsy, never mind drunk.
Was this an effect of the power?
He slumped his head back. Stared at the ceiling.
"I wonder what that George is up to."
In only a matter of minutes of cutting, the floor around me was covered in hair. Krista hummed gently behind me as she cut. My hair was tied up in a knot on the top as they took an electric razor to the sides. With every slight movement of her razor, massive clumps of hair fell to the floor, covered in newspapers Krista hurriedly bought from the local corner shop.
As I sat there quietly, my mind had drifted away from my travels through space—thanks to our conversation earlier. Instead, it had shifted to the invasion; memories of it were beginning to resurface, and as it did, a rather large elephant entered the room.
She…
Kissed me.
It completely left my mind with everything that happened at the time, and afterwards. And with those two agents visiting and the fact that all I've been able to think about was the past three months I spent lost in space, I never even thought about it.
In the corner of my eye, I saw her cutting my hair with absolute focus.
What does she think about it?
Why hasn't she mentioned it?
Is she just trying to forget?
Or has she already forgotten?
I swallowed, opened my mouth…
Then closed it again.
What do I even say? I don't wanna make things awkward.
"So..." Krista said, brushing loose hair from my shoulder. "What do you actually think about all this newfound info?"
"Er-erm, what do you mean?"
"Everything those two agents told you—we've not actually talked about it yet."
I let out a quiet breath through my nose. I guess the kiss is a conversation for another day. "I don't really know."
"No?"
"It's…" I searched for the words. "It's like I've walked into an entirely different world." I stared at the newspaper beneath my feet, already buried beneath strands of black hair. "Only... apparently that world's always existed."
The razor buzzed softly.
"And somehow..." I laughed tiredly. "...it revolves around me."
Krista didn't answer immediately.
"I don't know if I can handle that."
She rested a hand on my shoulder. "George."
"Hm?"
"None of that's your fault."
I looked down.
"You didn't ask for any of this."
"…No."
"So don't suddenly start acting like you're responsible for everything that happens in the universe." She nudged my shoulder with a grin. "Just keep being you."
Keep being you.
For some reason…
Those words reminded me of God.
Your strength comes not from the power itself... but from the choices you make.
The Calenarians.
Ourelieth.
I could still remember standing over him.
I could've ended it.
Would things be safer if I had?
If they came back…
If Krista got hurt because of the choice I'd made…
…
No. I shut the thought down before it could grow any further. If I started thinking like that… there'd never be an end to it. I spared them because I believed they could change.
I still wanted to believe that.
"I still don't think I'd believe any of it," Krista admitted. "If I hadn't seen those ships with my own eyes."
"I don't completely believe it either."
She paused. "You don't?"
I shrugged. "I've never heard of an Advent before."
The word echoed around my head.
Advent.
For a split second—
Pain.
A sharp pressure settled behind my eyes.
I winced.
"You alright?"
"…Yeah."
Maybe… The trials? No. That didn't make sense. Ultrua'is had to be stopped. Even if the Calenarians worshipped it… that thing wasn't saving anyone.
The pain vanished almost as quickly as it'd appeared.
"Hold still," She said as she grabbed the top of my head.
"Hey, I am."
"No, you keep moving."
"I'm like a statue; all I'm doing is breathing."
"You're breathing too aggressively."
"What the fuck are you talking about?"
She laughed, I smiled gently, and she cut my hair quietly for a bit.
Two birds swooped past the window. The morning sun made the city glisten especially brightly today. In my mind, the image of the city before me merged with the memories of the cities of Ourelieth.
It made me wonder…
"…Can I ask you something?"
"You just did."
"Ha, ha. No, it's about the aliens."
The razor buzzed beside my ear.
"Yeah?"
"I let them live, even though they killed millions of people."
She waited.
"Would you have done the same?"
The razor stopped.
"Why did you save them?" Krista asked.
"Because… the people down there didn't look much different to us. You remember the Hive?"
"The Hive?"
"Those robot spiders that combined into a giant monster."
"Oh, yeah?"
"Remember the first time we saw it?"
"…Yeah."
"The way we looked at it?"
She didn't answer."
"…Well, that's how they looked at me."
The images surfaced again. The memorial; lives reduced to names because of me. The soldier protecting his family… against me. He collapsed to his knees the moment he saw me, begging me, just to spare his family.
"…George."
"There was this soldier. He was missing a leg. You know those war memorials?"
"Yeah?"
"They had one. For the people I've killed."
"You? When did you kill them?"
"When that ship appeared above Grossaint the first time, there were more ships waiting outside of Earth."
She listened.
"I destroyed a bunch of them—killed so many people."
"You had to."
"I know… but that didn't make it any less painful to see it. But that's not it."
"What?"
"The soldier turned around. The moment he saw me, he fell to his knees. Praying. Begging."
She placed her hand on my shoulder gently, waiting for me to let it all out.
"He had a wife and a child beside him. I couldn't understand what he was saying, but I knew he was begging for me to spare them."
"Did you?"
"Of course I did. I couldn't kill them."
"So what's the problem?"
"I think… it's wrong, but maybe I should've, so they would never have come again."
"And why did you not?"
"What do you mean?"
"What stopped you from killing them? You destroyed the ships on Earth because you had to, killing many already; why didn't you kill them on the planet?"
"Geez, you don't pick your words, do you?"
"Sorry," her voice softened, "I don't mean to question you, I'm just trying to show you another perspective. What did stop you?"
"Because there has to be another way."
"Do you regret that?"
"Not now, but what if they come back?"
"It's fine to think about what ifs, but if you were to go back to that moment, as the man you are now, would you have destroyed them?"
The soldier's cries echoed in my mind.
"No… I wouldn't."
"Then it sounds to me that you made the right choice. I'm sure it's fine, you've shown them that you can destroy them if they invade again. Even if you won't, that possibility should terrify them."
"Yeah," my voice boldened, "You're right, one day I'll go back and try to convince them we can cooperate."
"See, always looking to help others. Still sound human to me."
I didn't respond, but the soft smile on my face probably said enough as she switched the razor back on.
Eventually, she finished cutting my hair. With a proud smile, she pulled out a mirror and placed it in front of my face.
It looked surprisingly good. The hair on top was still fairly long, parted down the centre and swept neatly back, while the sides had been cleaned up into a smooth fade. She'd even shaved away my patchy stubble and tidied my sideburns. The whole thing looked far more polished than I'd expected—honestly, it could've passed for a professional cut.
I smirked, "Damn, if this acting gig doesn't work out, you could always open up a barbershop."
Krista giggled, "I've still been going, you know. It's actually funny you say that, because I've even got one today."
"Knew you wouldn't give up. I can see the… erm… give me an actor."
"Leonardo DiCaprio?"
"I can see the Leonardo DiCaprio in you."
"Wanna come?"
"Pretty sure I promised, didn't I?"
"Oh, right, you did, so you have to."
"Yep."
I guess with everything that's happened, things really haven't changed. Physically, I'm not the same as I was before, but maybe that doesn't matter.
I can still live a normal life.