Chapter 9: 9. Pledge

Four years ago…

Adam rolled his eyes as the door to the detention room opened. A woman, dressed in a mauve sweater and a pair of casual jeans, shuffled in. She leaned against the door with her shoulder and stumbled as the heavy frame slammed back into place. Adam leaned further back in his chair, his feet propped against the edge of the scratched plastic table.

"Good evening, Adam." She greeted him with a raised hand and a grin, despite the bags shadowing her eyes and the mass of papers ready to explode out from her hands.

"Sally," Adam grunted back. The door swung back with a loud creak.

"May I ask you to place your feet down? We can’t start otherwise." Adam glared at her for a moment, then sighed and relented. He dragged his chair across the ground until it screeched. "How are you feeling today?" Sally asked. "I heard you did well on your English test. Good job!"

He shrugged. "It’s whatever."

A worried look replaced the smile. "Does it still hurt?"

"I’m fine," Adam said, touching an old bandage on his cheek. Some of the blood had smeared down his top. He could still taste a hint of iron on his tongue. "It’s nothing."

"Are you sure you don’t need any medicine? No? Alright, let’s get started." Sally sat opposite Adam on the hard plastic table. She unloaded her load, then rifled through the top third for a stapled set of paper. Adam’s mugshot glared back at her from the front. "So, I believe you know why we’re sitting here today."

Adam pretended to look over her shoulder. "Nah, I don’t. Why don’t you tell me?"

"You assaulted a fellow student in the break room, gouging out his right eye," Sally said, almost recited. "As a consequence, you were placed into segregated confinement for a week, then released under increased surveillance. This is not the first time you’ve acted violently toward other inmates."

"Ah, that," Adam said. "The hell do you want with it?"

"Adam, I’m not here to condemn you. I just want to know the thought process behind your actions that day." Sally said. "The sooner we unpack those, the closer we’ll reach an understanding."

Adam leaned back in his seat, hands behind his head. He yawned. "Dunno what the big deal is. Ain’t like he’s blind. Still got one eye."

Sally sighed. "It’s reported you gouged his eye after you beat him into submission. Several of his bones were fractured at that point. Again, not condemning you, merely stating the facts."

"Bastard was asking for it."

"How so?"

Adam scoffed. He shrugged. "I didn’t like his look. You know how it is, Sally. Some prick gets up in your face a lil’ too close and you can’t help but want to teach them a lesson." He mimed a right hook with his hand. "Gotta drive it home, real hard, so they don’t try it again."

Sally leaned forward. Her brow furrowed. The pits in her eyes made Adam want to throw up. "Adam, I want to help you. You’re already in juvie. It’s shielding you for the moment, but once you step into the adult world, you’ll have to face the full consequences of your actions. I won’t be around to help you. Mary—"

Adam slammed his chair forward. The bang echoed off the grey walls. "Shut up." He hissed.

Sally flinched. She pulled the paper back. "Adam, I…"

"Keep my sister’s name out of your mouth."

"Was it something about her? Did he try to steal her pendant?"

"I don’t want to talk about it," Adam said.

"Did he spit on her grave? Insult her?" Sally continued.

"I said, I don’t want to talk about it!" Adam pounded the table with his fist. Sally’s stack of files wobbled. This time, she did not flinch. The clock on the wall ticked the seconds away as Adam sucked in a breath. "It’s funny you’re doing this, Miss ‘let’s gang up on the prissy bitch and crack her skull in half’. Got deja vu? Must be easy for you to act all high and mighty from way up there!"

The sounds of basketball and laughter resounded from a gap in a small, glossy window. Lucy steepled her hands, sat up straight, and met his glare. "It’s true, Adam. I did horrible things when I was your age and I won’t make excuses for them. That’s why I’m here—to prevent kids like you from making the same ones."

Her expression sharpened. She pulled her chair in until her shadow overlapped Adam’s. "And besides, Mary was my friend, too. I have the right to talk about her. And I know she would not want you to rot away here." She finished by extending her wrist out, where a bangle made from wooden beads and cheap jewelry jangled. The moment Adam caught sight of the inscription in the center stone, he retracted his fist. He cast his gaze down into his lap and said nothing.

Sally climbed out and poured them both cups of water from a nearby canister. She placed Adam’s cup in front of him and waited. He slugged it one go and pushed it aside.

"’Wasn’t about Mary." Adam said.

"Pardon?"

"It was Luke. Fuckers ganged up on him and shoved him around. Calling him a pissweak retard shat out of a whore’s cunt. Then they tore up the photo of his sis, the one he sleeps with" Adam said. He picked up Sally’s pen and shoved it downwards onto the table until it made yet another dent. "So I grabbed the nearest sharp thing I found and stabbed him in the face. Wanted to pulp his nose, but it got his eye instead. It’s whatever."

Sally had taken out a different pen and scribbled it down on a different sheet. Adam crossed his arms and slouched in his seat.

"I wasn’t informed that your roommate was bullied," Sally said.

"You’re the only one who cares. Wouldn’t have changed anything."

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

"Perhaps." Sally twirled the pen, a strange grin crossing her features. "You know, Adam? I cannot condone your actions to the victim—it would’ve been better if you called for help—but I have to say, there were some good intentions."

Adam stared at her. "You what?"

"You empathized with your dorm-mate over a shared negative experience and acted in his stead. That’s compassion, albeit misused, misplaced, and way, way overboard."

Adam shook his head. He rolled his eyes. "Luke ain’t even my friend. Like I said, the bastard pissed me off." He pointed behind Sally, towards the neat bun of hair atop her head. "College made you soft."

Not that he’d be heading there with his poor grades and current track record, at any rate.

"Really now…" Sally sighed. She began to gather her materials into a pile. "It wouldn’t hurt to open up a bit more. The War Maidens will like you more if you do."

"What?"

"Secondly, do try to give yourself more credit in the future. You were brave to throw yourself in harm’s way, to fight and win against dear Lucy despite the overwhelming odds. If this was the ADO proper, you would’ve at least received a medal."

The realization smashed him in the face like a falling anvil. He jumped out of his chair, suddenly three years older. The MOB’s jumpsuit replaced his juvie slacks, extra pockets, and weapons and all. "You’re not Sally!" He cried.

"Yep, it’s me. We meet again, Adam." The woman sitting opposite him said. She blinked and her irises were now enshrouded with stars. Suddenly, she was clad in that plain white summer dress, though she refused to drop Sally’s visage. Adam wasted no time in reaching over and grabbing her by the collar.

"How are you, dear Chosen?"

"Bloody awful, thanks to you." Adam shot back. "Tell your boss to get me the hell out of here. Whatever plan she has, I want no part of it."

The dream girl shook her head. "Your body has already been modified by Astraea’s technology. You accepted Her mysticism. And now, you have bonded with one of Her precious War Maidens, in an act befitting of a true Chosen. Too late, Adam! Had you wanted to leave, you should have listened to that Operator and ended your life."

The walls shifted. They were no longer blocky concrete, but rather gigantic television screens. The girl gripped Adam’s hand and forced him aside. He stumbled back, to where the table no longer existed. He ran to the door. The handle rattled, then vanished.

"Apologies for my intrusion, Adam." The dream girl said. She raised a finger to her lips and winked. "I only wanted to check up on you, but you were dreaming about the past and I could not resist to take a look. I won’t tell anyone else."

"Oh, just fuck off!"

"Don’t worry, our time will be ending soon."

She nodded to the television screens. They displayed a girl in blonde—the dream girl’s original puppet. The blonde girl clutched a bloody body, the face pressed up her chest. Her frantic sobs echoed throughout the dream room. Yet, her eyes teemed with bliss and her smile stretched so wide it almost burst past the seams of her cheeks. A delicate hand stroked the buzzcut on the boy’s head—his buzzcut.

The dream girl noticed his shock. She placed a hand on his shoulder. "Adam, she’s been through a lot. We don’t expect you to build a rapport with her immediately, but it’ll help if you talk with each other. She’s not a bad girl, okay?"

Adam threw the chair at her, but by that point the whole room disintegrated into particles and he woke up.

Consciousness re-initialized…

Proceeding with bootup sequence…

The faded white of Medbay A’s ceiling greeted him. A variety of pains then assaulted him, along with the notion of him not getting up anytime soon. He felt like someone had made a list of every ill and ache he experienced on the streets, recreated them, and rolled him up like the meat in a second-rate burrito.

Vitality: 10%

Plasma: 10%

Damage has been detected in the chest, arms, shoulders, and legs. The Mystic Core shows signs of plasma burnout. Please seek medical attention.

A pillow lay beneath him. His vision wobbled, focusing in and out. Medical pads, cut so precise to match his wounds, clung to his cheeks, neck, and arms. A glob of water dropped from a crack in the ceiling. He winced at the sound.

"Where…" He slurred. A rancid taste, lingering of iron, filled his tongue. He turned his head and saw the girl in blonde standing adjacent, dressed in a white military shirt and matching trousers. She froze, a medkit in her hands. Their gazes held, Adam blinking in a stupor, the six-star sigil on her clothes glinting, and then all numbness vanished.

"You!" He rasped.

"You’re awake!" The girl in blonde cried. She shoved the medkit on a nearby table and rushed to his side.

"Oh thank the stars, I was so worried!" The girl said. "You were out for a couple of days. I fixed you up as best I can but I’m not experienced beyond first aid, so I do apologise!"

"War Maiden," Adam said. The word felt like acid. He struggled against the bed, the blankets thrashing around. "Get away from me!"

"Wait, wait!" The girl cried. "I’m not going to hurt you."

"Yeah, because these wounds came out of nowhere!" Adam said. His mystic core flared, levitating a nearby plastic bottle. His other hand curled into a fist. "You wanna go for round two? Come here, then! I’ll break your n—"

Pain. Akin to an electric shock, dipped in the stifling emptiness of drug burnout. The bottle clattered to the floor. His shoulder muscles seized up and he fell, the back of his head banging against the bed’s head. Spots danced in the corner of his vision.

What? What is this…

"There, there." The girl cooed. She took his hand in hers. Adam tried to flail, but twitching his foot took a herculean effort. A blue glow bloomed at their shared touch, matching the buttons on her clothes. Mystic lines ran down his fingers, across his palm, and into his wrist. Part of the cloying sensation vanished.

"Plasma burnout." The girl said. "You used up too much of it while fighting me, not that I’m blaming you for that."

She held his hand for a while longer, then poured a cup of water from a plastic bottle. Adam took it in silence. The insides didn’t seem suspicious. He slugged it in one go.

"Please don’t move around too much." The girl said. "Your body is still recovering."

"Not gonna to kill me yet, huh?" Adam said.

"Of course not!" The girl exclaimed. "I would never, not amidst all the stars in the sky, would dare to harm Her Chosen. I am already extremely guilty for attacking you in the first place!"

Adam wanted to retort, and then his brain caught up to his instincts. It focused on a pair of words from the girl. He stared at her. "What did you call me?"

"Her Chosen." The girl repeated. "You, who arrived to this disastrous world to save us of Astraea, are Her Chosen."

Adam’s retort smacked into his throat flesh and stayed there. The girl retrieved a waist-long white military jacket, complete with small blue pauldrons, and put it on. She—War Maiden, the former abomination of steel and flesh, killer of hundreds, and the enemy whom he gutted with a tomahawk—got down on one knee and spoke.

"I, Lucy Klavdia, War Maiden of Astraea, greet Her Honorable Chosen. I thank you for purifying me of that infernal corruptive energy. I swear, in accordance with Her Providence, I will dedicate my heart, body, and soul to serving and protecting you until the end of your journey!"

New Mystic acquired: [War Maidens’ Bond]

Lucy Klavdia has been registered in the War Maiden Registry.