“So what rank are you?”

Irene looked over at Wendy with a light frown.

Wendy was swaying back and forth in her seat until she eventually bumped Irene’s shoulder. The latter didn’t push back, but also didn’t protest.

“You’re in the army, right? Even though you’re so young, I heard you’re already an officer,” the little Witch continued.

Heard from whom? Irene couldn’t help but wonder. She realized she knew very little about Wendy outside of the confines of this practice room. She never saw her in the iron halls of the fortress, nor out on the training grounds, and she certainly had never seen her in the officers’ barracks. But as curious as she was, she couldn’t bring herself to ask about any of it.

Irene wasn’t sure when she had started making a point of showing up to her fencing lesson early - perhaps when it had become their fencing lesson - but she tried to be as nonchalant about it as possible. She would come and sit next to Wendy, who was somehow always there before her, and would eventually find herself pulled into a conversation much like today, despite her every intention to resist.

“... I’m just a sergeant,” Irene finally answered, and Wendy giggled.

“That sounds important! Do you wear a special uniform?”

Irene shook her head. “No. I… haven’t gone out into the field yet,” she admitted. The Emperor and the Chief Engineer had plans for her, and they didn’t involve being deployed until she was ready.

“Oh,” was all Wendy said for a moment. Then she finally added, “Me neither.”

Irene watched her silently as Wendy looked down. The younger girl kicked her feet idly beneath her seat, and there was a faint smile curling one corner of .

“... You know,” Irene began again after a moment. “They’re going to make me like you.” She thought she had made her piece with the idea a long time ago; she had been selected early on thanks to some compatability with Heechul’s formulae and research - all things that went beyond her head. But meeting Wendy had made her become more aware of the way the little Witch was treated and talked about in the officers’ barracks, and it worried her.

Wendy’s eyes glittered as she suddenly looked up at Irene. “Wait, what do you mean like me? You mean… you mean magic?” she asked in a conspiratory whisper, barely able to contain her excitement.

But Irene nodded with such solemnity, that Wendy’s smile quickly faded. She reached over and took Irene’s hand, threading their fingers together. It was an oddly mature gesture for someone who wasn’t even in her teens, and Irene was so taken aback by it, she simply froze and allowed Wendy to do as she wished.

“... Are you scared?” Wendy asked quietly.

It was a long moment before Irene nodded again, and Wendy could see the young sergeant’s eyes watering.

Wendy scooted her chair closer to Irene’s and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Irene squeezed her eyes shut as she allowed herself to be pulled into a hug.

“I don’t want to be a monster,” she quietly cried against Wendy’s shoulder.

Wendy Irene’s hair as she held her, looking up and blinking away the tears that were beginning to form in her own eyes.

“Me neither,” she whispered to Irene. “Me neither.”

+++

After spending a very odd - and somewhat awkward - night on Moonbyul’s ‘flying casino’, the Returners had been able to go back into the Opera House to retrieve Seulgi’s sword and tuxedo, returning the showy ballgown to its rightful owner. When they returned, Moonbyul had been a little confused at their request to head back to Jidoor first before going on to Vector, but Seulgi explained that they needed to get her pet chocobo, Boko, from their cutter moored in the harbor. Overhearing this, the crew of the Blackjack squealed so much about it that Moonbyul had been forced belowdeck to escape all the noise and simply left the helm to Sujeong.

Irene had been quick to follow after the captain, not quite sure she could stomach watching the ground disappear below the layer of clouds as they backtracked up the coast. She waited until Moonbyul disappeared into her cabin, then began to wander her way towards the main gallery, back to where she had first confronted Moonbyul in the act of assaulting Seulgi. The memory hardened her frown.

“Marry her. Ridiculous,” she muttered, but paused when she heard footsteps coming down the spiral staircase from the deck behind her. She turned and saw the victim in question. “Seulgi…”

Seulgi’s brows furrowed as she paused on the landing. They stared for a moment, searching each other’s expressions for some sense of understanding, but the floor lurched beneath them as the ship began to take off from the Opera House. Before Irene could fully recover from being jostled into the wood paneling of the hallway, Seulgi quickly ducked into a side room.

“Seulgi-!” Irene called after her, just as the door shut. It wasn’t like Seulgi to be so evasive, which made Irene wonder if she was past the shock of all of the events from last night and was purposefully trying to avoid her. She quickly went to the door, but hesitated a moment with her hand on the handle, wondering if she should give Seulgi some space. There was no way Seulgi could have missed Moonbyul talking about her title and past so carelessly the night before, and what could really be done about it, anyway?

She’d be lying to herself if she said she wasn’t a little relieved that Seulgi finally knew the truth. Maybe now Seulgi would push her away, and they could stop… whatever this was.

She squeezed her eyes shut and pursed her lips before turning the handle.

A cloud of steam greeted her as she entered what she could only guess was the engine room; it was filled with brass and copper tanks lining a narrow wooden walkway that wound back and forth through the room. She had to duck and twist to avoid the many levers and pipes as she shuffled along quickly, trying to chase after Seulgi. She could already feel sweat beading along her brow from the humidity, and the gauges with twitching needles that she passed only confirmed that the engines were hard at work keeping the ship aloft.

She finally caught up with Seulgi where she stood in front of a ladder that looked like it led back up to the deck. She was staring up at it with her shoulders drooped as if in defeat. Was she tired of running? Irene hoped so. She was ready for Seulgi’s harsh words. She was ready for the accusations and the blame. She was ready to feel the burden of her crimes, for the verdict of the thousands of deaths committed under her orders in Seulgi’s harsh gaze.

Except Seulgi didn’t turn.

Seulgi didn’t speak.

Seulgi placed her foot on the bottom rung of the ladder.

“Wait!” Irene called out, surprising herself. She must have surprised Seulgi too, because she thought she saw the rancher’s shoulders raise slightly. But Irene couldn’t think of what else to say now that she finally had Seulgi right there in front of her. Thankfully, it was Seulgi who broke the silence, over the sharp pings sounding in the copper tanks nearby.

“Did you order the attack on Doma?” Seulgi asked quietly.

“... No.”

“Why?”

Why. Her troops were tired, Doma wasn’t budging, the Emperor was impatient, the Court Wizard was watching her every move for any signs of weakness. Why hadn’t she just given the order for a quick resolution?

Because Leeteuk had been testing her.

“Because it wasn’t right. I wanted to wait for more soldiers, I wanted-” but she stopped herself. She could hear her own frustration- no, desperation in her tone. But she didn’t want to try to explain herself to Seulgi. There was some morbid part of her that felt like she deserved this reproach, even in spite of all the reasons she had worked through at the time.

“So they arrested you?” Seulgi asked, still with her back to Irene.

“They did.”

“And they were going to execute you?”

“... They were,” she confirmed, barely whispering over the hissing of the pressure tanks. She didn’t question how Seulgi already knew those final details, but she couldn’t bring herself to dwell on it in the face of Seulgi’s impending judgement. Despite Leeteuk giving the final order, she still felt responsible for Seulgi’s loss, her pain.

But Seulgi turned and hugged her, even before Irene could get a look at what expression she was wearing.

“I’m sorry,” Seulgi said against her shoulder.

Irene was stunned and stood there stiffly. “You’re…? But why?”

“I tried to hate you. I really did. My brother… “ Was Seulgi crying? Irene carefully brought her arms up and hugged Seulgi, rubbing her back.

“You wouldn’t be wrong to hate me, you know.”

“But you didn’t do it,” Seulgi protested, hugging her tighter.

“I did so much, though, Seulgi. I’ve done terrible things,” Irene murmured, tears welling up in her eyes. Why couldn’t Seulgi just hate her? Why couldn’t Seulgi yell or draw her sword? Why was Seulgi seeking comfort from an Imperial General?

And why did Irene want nothing more than to give her that peace of mind?

Seulgi iterated a thought Yeri had tried to impress upon her back in the Opera House. “You were only doing what you had to do. And I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” Irene breathed out in disbelief. She didn’t deserve this sympathy. Seulgi’s innocence and understanding was almost frustrating.

“I’m just sorry you had to go through that. Yeri told me. She told me you lost everything.”

Irene tried to squeeze her eyes shut before the first tears fell, but Seulgi’s forgiveness was an entirely new sensation for her.

“It’s not your fault.”

“It is!” Wendy sobbed. “I killed them. I killed them all.”

Irene pulled Wendy’s head against her shoulder and held her there. “It wasn’t you- it wasn’t,” she insisted firmly while Wendy tried to protest. “It was him. He made you do it.”

Leeteuk had finally done it. He had finally discovered a way to destroy this kind, hopeful, beautiful girl.

He had created the Slave Crown.

“How can you even stand to look at me?” Wendy whispered against her uniform. She was warm all over, and for a brief moment Irene felt terrible, because the instinctual fear of Wendy not being in control of herself and igniting that entire platoon of soldiers on fire had quite literally burned itself into her memory. Bombs, explosions, energy beams from Magitek Armor, Irene had seen her soldiers die from it all, but there had been something horrifying - something truly monstrous - about the way Wendy had melted those men, the way their flesh had sloughed off of their bodies in burning chunks, the way they stood in place with their heads hung back, mouths agape as the sheer heat of Wendy’s attack caused their internal organs to shut down, killing them even before the wave of flames overtook them.

Barely out of her teens, Wendy now had a personal killcount higher than most senior-ranking officers and campaign veterans.

“Because I know you,” Irene murmured to her. “You would never ever do something like that.”

But she had. And the Emperor had been impressed. And Leeteuk had leered at Irene as he promised the Emperor that Wendy would be able to do it on command, that all he would need to do was give the order, and any of the Empire’s enemies would succumb to an apocalyptic inferno devastating enough to destroy not just the very fabric of whatever kingdom fell in her path, but also irreversibly demoralize any survivors. All under his careful guidance.

“What do you think, Commander?” Leeteuk had asked Irene after the demonstration. “I can’t wait to show you up in the field with my new toy~”

And Irene had sworn right then and there that she would do whatever it took to make sure the Empire never needed to use the Witch to win a battle, even if that meant becoming the general and winning this entire war by herself.

She never wanted to have to comfort Wendy like that ever again, so she had taken on the role of ‘monster’ herself.

She pushed away from Seulgi, faltering only when she saw the redness in the rancher’s eyes. “I may not be responsible for Doma, Seulgi, but I am the Scourge of Maranda. I personally led troops into South Figaro, Joy’s vassal city. I’ve killed so many, Seulgi. And they weren’t all soldiers,” she continued, lifting her chin and forcing herself to hold Seulgi’s gaze. “Some of them were just like you. They were just civilians, trying to defend their homes.”

“But you taught this civilian how to fight!” Seulgi argued. Finally there was that anger Irene had been expecting, though it was manifesting itself… in her defense? “You’re working against the Empire now! You decided to do what’s right!”

“What’s right,” Irene repeated hollowly. “... What is right, Seulgi?” How could she even pretend to know when she still second-guessed her decision at Doma? Leeteuk had made it so easy for her: he had planned it all out and set it up. If she had given the order, she would still be a general. If she had committed the genocide, she could still protect Wendy.

If she was the kind of person who did what was right, if she was the kind of person Seulgi wanted to believe she was, she wouldn’t be questioning herself like this.

Seulgi was slowly coming to the realization that it wasn’t just the Empire that Irene was fighting against, and it was like a candle had been blown out and she was stumbling around in the dark. Fumbling, she hesitatingly reached out and took Irene’s hands in her own. They were cold. Unnaturally cold in the sweltering heat of the engine room, but she held them carefully, unflinchingly.

What did Seulgi really know about any of this? Who was she to say what was right? “I can’t tell you that,” Seulgi said quietly. She wanted to say more, but the words stuck in . All she knew was that Irene had never looked so completely alone and fragile to her before. “But I’ve seen you do good things, Irene. I know what you’re capable of.” She hated the way Irene was lifelessly staring at their hands. “Do you remember when we first met?” she asked.

“Don’t,” Irene breathed, feeling defeated.

“Do you? Out on the Veldt after I chased you down? You could have killed me.” Seulgi brought Irene’s hands together in her own and held them up close to her chest, wishing she could dispel that iciness. “It would have been so easy. I even attacked you! ...But you didn’t. You even protected me. Do you remember?”

Of course Irene remembered, after days and days of running and hiding, no rest, no food, and the constant threat of being hunted down by her own soldiers. How could she forget Seulgi’s kindness and willingness to help? “Of course I had to protect you,” Irene murmured as she stepped forward and rested her forehead against Seulgi’s shoulder, staring at their feet. “You’ve been useless from the start. No armor, no swordskills,” she began as she took one of her hands away and lightly jabbed Seulgi in the ribs. “No money, no campaign experience,” another soft jab. “No regard for your own safety, no-”

Seulgi leaned away and lifted her chin with a hand, forcing Irene to meet her bemused gaze.

“... No idea what we’re up against, n-no navigational skills…” Irene faltered, her eyebrows knitting together as Seulgi began to slowly smile. “And no idea who I was. Who I am.”

Seulgi timidly brushed her thumb over the line of Irene’s jaw, and the ex-general took an uneasy breath.

“I know who you are now,” Seulgi spoke quietly, her thumb tracing the outline of Irene’s bottom lip. Irene’s eyes fluttered shut at her touch, and she felt Seulgi press a soft kiss on the corner of . Everything about Seulgi was so gentle, it almost hurt. But before Seulgi could pull away, Irene turned her head and pulled her into a full kiss. A silent thank you for Seulgi’s adamant refusal to place any blame on her, for Seulgi's trust and acceptance.      

And Seulgi smiled against her mouth as she felt Irene's hands finally begin to warm. Maybe she wasn’t quite as useless as Irene claimed she was.

“And besides,” Seulgi continued the thought aloud in a breathy laugh as they parted and she leaned her forehead against Irene’s. "I look pretty good in a suit.”