I'm sitting on one of the side balconies of the upper lounge. The recent happenings have understandably made the other passengers hesitant to go out in the open, which works just fine for me. I need the solitude.

More specifically, someone I need to see needs it.

I don't even have to check if he showed up; I begin speaking without so much as a glance to the empty seat next to me. “So, the prince, hm? How'd you land that?"

“He prefers admiral to prince," Suraokh says. “The one he earned is worth more to him."

“Admiral, then," I correct myself, turning to look at the kangaroo, who arrived, or rather appeared, to fill that seat. “I'd like an answer, though."

“I have been important to important people for a long time. He is simply the newest."

“Alright, but what for? What is it you do for him?"

“Difficult to convey so briefly," Suraokh deflects again. “Not in so few words."

“Yeah, yeah…" I almost look away, but then double-take back to him, irritation surging to my surface. “Hold on a moment, you were literally just using longer sentences! You've got a new module, you can't play that card."

“You should reflect long and hard on why it almost worked," Suraokh says. It's not like him to be so snippy but ever since we got on this train he's had a real nasty attitude.

“Look, I just wanna make sure I'm not gonna be like, a sacrifice or something like that."

“Admiral Jen will clear things up for you far better than I will," the doll says. “You will meet him once his ship arrives."

“Do I have to?" I groan.

“Yes. Look, we are almost there." He raises an arm to point.

“You'd better not vanish as soon as I look away," I tell him.

“I am going to vanish as soon as you look away," he says back.

“Fine, but hear me out first. I know what I need you for, and I know you need me for… something so I'd appreciate a little bit of transparency. I already had to beg for it from someone else so I really just wish you could give me a little more incentive to trust you."

For several seconds, there is only the sound of the railway and wind rushing by us, as Suraokh stares at me. “What are you afraid of? You have already lost more than I could take from you."

“...Fine, get out of here then. I'll see you at our stop, I'm sure."

“You will see me when I feel like it."

I stay staring him down in return for a few moments, and I can feel the plateau in our tension. It will stretch on forever, unbroken and unmoving, if we let it. Before looking away with a sigh out at the horizon. Gone is the view of barely touched land on the other side of the channel; instead, seated in the widest part of it is an island crowned by the largest city anywhere, its lights filling the dark early morning sky. The skeletons of urban decay left behind by the previous regime have been reshaped and reskinned to the point of being joined all together as a singular entity we call Iyakamraa. It's really just absurdly vast.

It's considered a marvel here on Paliputra. Frankly it would probably be a marvel on any world, but here it stands at the edge of the traversable universe, throne to an imperial capital watching the other nations bicker from afar. Well, mostly.

The track turns gently, guiding the train along a wide trajectory toward one of those bridges. It won't be long until we arrive, so I head back inside. The others are doing fine, for the most part. Jori is taking Leonov's condition surprisingly well; there's only so much she was able to do for him here, but she seems positive she'll be able to revive him as good as he was before once she's in the proper environment.

I make a brief stop in the dining car, getting myself yet another coffee in a paper cup before proceeding to coach, and settling in among Yhana and Nym for the remainder of the trip.

We enter the city proper long before we ever reach our station; it's larger than some nations in their entirety after all, and could probably stand as one on its own without issue. Large swaths of the land have been reserved for parks and agriculture, largely unbroken save for wind turbines standing sentinel, and the roots of overpass bridges like the one our train rushes across now.

Up close, there's no shortage of green, gold, and violet foliage even within the urban sections, as the newer architecture has been built with their integration in mind.

Now and again, spacecraft can be seen taking off from somewhere across the city, heading southbound and skyward. Somewhere in that direction is the Dominion's palatial space station and home of the Empress, held in geosynchronous orbit.

I end up not being much for conversation for the last bit of our journey, fully captivated by the sights of Iyakamraa. Back home, even our busiest cities were more like modest towns at best, and my own hometown was even smaller. In all my life I've only seen anything like this in pictures and projections.

I almost don't notice the tunnel we approach until it suddenly eclipses the view, and the train begins to slow down in preparation to stop at the next station.

"Are you getting off at this next stop, then?" Nym asks.

"That's right," Yhana replies. "Curfew should have just ended, so the station won't keep me waiting."

"What about you, Nym?" I ask him.

"I'll be getting off closer to the palace," he answers. "I know I've washed my hands of it all, but, well… mother expects me to be there whenever I'm home, and Jen dreads it, so naturally I'm going. How about you? Is this your stop?"

I pause halfway to answering, realizing I don't know.

"If you need a place to stay until your arrangement comes together, I've got space," Yhana offers. "As long as you don't mind my weird cousin."

"Oh no, I couldn't possibly impose," I decline. It's one part politeness but I also don't really want to rely on her too much.

"No I insist, it's fine," she presses. "The sofa folds out, you won't take up any space at all."

"I mean…"

"At full-size, to be specific," she adds.

"Oh, fine. Thank you, really," I concede. Nym's tongue escapes his muzzle in mock disapproval as yet again I bend to Yhana's suggestions, and I roll my eyes at him.

"Then we'd better get a move on, let's go," Yhana prompts with perfect timing, the train coming to a complete stop just then. She stands, nodding to Nym and making for the doors.

I get up to follow, clasping my hands in farewell to Nym. "Well, safe travels, not that you've got much further to go, right?"

"Maybe I'll run into you again?" he asks. His tone is more genuine than a simple formality would require.

A little smile sneaks its way onto my face as my heart flutters. "Sooner than you think, I'm sure of it." 

With that, I'm headed in the same direction as Yhana once again, saying my farewells in passing to Dahlia, the Nahrrimurns, and the red-bearded human whose name I never got. If the way he and Rohka are hanging onto each other is anything to estimate by, I think they might be dating.

As we disembark, we encounter Jori, loading Leonov up onto a large, long gurney, with the assistance of a repair squad, whom I recognize by their attire, like the most archetypical undertakers had optimized themselves for aerodynamic compliance.

I wave to Jori with my arm fully outstretched, and Yhana even does the same, proving much more visible, before we both run to her.

"Oh hey!" she exclaims, her spirits high as always.

"I was hoping I'd run into you before we went on our way," I say. "I'm sorry I didn't see much of you after… well, after the--"

"Oh, don't worry about it," the human assures with a dismissive wave. "An hour or two with the right tools and serums and he'll be fine."

"Right, like you said." As troubling as an inanimate Leonov is to look at, his engineer's confidence fills me with relief.

"Well, as always, if you need anything, you know where to find us," Yhana offers.

"And you know where to find me," Jori returns. "It's not like you can miss it."

"No, I suppose not!" the larger jackal chuckles.

"Take care, you two."

"Yeah, you too," I bid her, and in that slightly awkward way people whose 30s are imminent do, we exchange a few too many nods and extricate ourselves from the interaction.

Iyakamraa feels even more like an endless expanse of itself when experienced on foot; as we crest the ramp taking us back above ground, I lose myself in the skyline again, taking in the part-city, part-forest, weaving itself together on suspended rails of tram network all suspended above a surprisingly-rustic cobblestone sprawl from which boxy complexes and step pyramids alike rise among the streetlamps and their incandescent glow.

"Hey, don't get too distracted, now," Yhana chides, drawing me out of it by gently tugging my scarf. "I don't want you getting lost."

"Right, sorry…" I mutter, fidgeting her hand off of me and coming up alongside her. "So… you mentioned a cousin?"

"Yeah, she watches the place while I'm out. ...And while I'm there, too. It's not like Iyakamraa's got a crime problem but it helps to have someone on guard as jumpy as she is, just in case."

"I see… Is she much like you?"

"In what way?"

"I mean in like… well, you know." I put my hands together with splayed, hooked fingers, hinging my palms to mimic fangs opening and closing.

Yhana laughs. "She's not predatory if that's what you mean. She's not like, normal, either, but you aren't going to suddenly have to deal with twice as much. Beyond that though, no, she and I don't even look similar."

We arrive at a tram station just in time to board and it takes off above the ground, carrying us deeper into the city.

Well, I assume it's deeper.

"If she's as jumpy as you say, is she going to take issue with this?" I fan out my tails.

"We'll get you through it, don't worry," she says.

In the distance, I can see an absolutely massive structure, countless cylindrical towers bundled into one, its concrete composition draped in verdance all the same. One of many landmarks Iyakamraa is famous for, it's the largest communal living complex in the entire Ravel.

I have to imagine that's where Jori meant she'd be. Which means that's almost certainly not where we're going.

From our stop, it's a short walk to an apartment complex wide enough to escape both edges of my peripheral vision.

"Well, we're here," Yhana declares. "Unit 222, easy enough to remember, right?"

"Thankfully," I chuckle. I estimate this side of the complex alone contains nearly 200 such units, even with each one claiming two floors, and for that matter, scaled to residents in Yhana's size class.

She strides up the stairs with greater ease than I do; thanks to her height she's taking it two steps at a time. I could use the human-sized side of the staircase but I'd have to really stretch to be taking that one four steps at a time just to keep up.

It is unusual to see them instead of a ramp, but at least they have exterior elevators in place for those who need them.

She stops in front of her door, taking a deep breath, and then extending her hand. One knock, then two quick ones, two slow, and three at a speed in between that. The moment she finishes, she quickly draws her hand back as something heavy impacts the door from the other side.

"Alright, we're good," she mutters, I think it's mostly to herself, as she conjures a key and slides it into the lock.

As she pushes it open, the door sticks suddenly, as multiple sliding chains catch it just a few centimeters out, evoking a groan from her.

"What the hell, Kyra, did you install more of these?"

A coppery metal hand slithers jointlessly out from the dark room just inside, and begins to undo the chains.

"I didn't know when you'd be back," comes the slightly croaking voice of an avid smoker. That metal hand tugs the door open again, before reeling itself back in, much farther than I had expected it to.

Yhana proceeds inside, motioning for me to follow, which while that was the plan anyway, I do so with a bit of unease, making note of the spring-loaded ram suspended at an angle from the ceiling, as well as the thick metal plate on the backside of the door.

The interior is set up cozy at least, with a modest amount of furniture set up in what space is left by the mismatched bookshelves lining the walls, large sections of which are missing plaster to expose the brickwork beneath.

Facing a window in the rear, on the other side of a small dining table, overlooking a courtyard partially encircled by the building, is an armchair with an almost comically tall back, where part of that mechanical arm can be seen resting.

"Alright, I've brought company," Yhana begins, "so I would appreciate it if you could ohhhhhh this again??"

She picks up the arm, three segmented tendrils attached to a shoulder, attached to nobody at all.

"So you have," Kyra says from right next to me, stepping out of the shadows and slamming the front door with her hip. She towers over me, her scrutinizing squint putting another atmosphere's worth of pressure down on me. "Reaper, by the looks of it? Why?"

"Yeah, they look like one, but if they even tried to hit you I think they'd break both their legs somehow." Wow, thanks…

"I see… You're lucky I'm too tired to hear the whole thing right now, but I will get it out of you… when I'm good and ready," she declares, turning back to me and leaning in even closer as she finishes saying so. Abruptly, she uprights herself once more, glancing in Yhana's direction. “Can I have my arm back? I can't loom property without it."

"No, be nice."

"Sorry you're allergic to fun…"

I've already failed at pretending not to be startled, so hiding the little uptick in astonishment brought on by all that remark implies proves impossible. What's she get up to that makes Yhana seem tame to her?

“Thank you for welcoming me into your home. I plan on being the easiest houseguest you've ever had, I probably won't even be here most of the time," I say, trying to move pleasantries along. Or even get to pleasantries to begin with.

Her piercing purple eyes would have surely appeared suspended in the darkness underneath the hood of her one-armed crop-top sweater, if not for the off-white spirals and lines bleached into her otherwise uniformly black fur. After several moments, her gaze softens from one of scrutiny, to one of sudden curiosity.

"What do you have?" she asks.

"...Sorry?"

"What's on you?" Her remaining hand shoots for my face, and though I seize it by the wrist, she starts trying to pry my jaws open with nothing but finger strength, and I can't lie; she is distressingly strong even for her athletic physique.

"Hey, what are you doing?!" I demand through clenched teeth, but even the slightest articulation allows her to force them apart, at which point she leans in to sniff inside of my mouth deeply.

"Alright, back to bed with you," Yhana groans, seizing her by the shoulders and pulling her back. "They don't have anything, buzz off."

"Not even the littlest bit of dragonbreath?" She already seems like she's relaxed a bit, even in Yhana's none too gentle grip.

"I'd know about it unless they huffed enough to sweat the stuff in the fifteen combined minutes they were out of my sight or body on the ride over," Yhana dismisses. "Look, they're undead, they just kinda smell clinical."

"Oh, fine," Kyra concedes, looking at me again. She slides out of Yhana's hold, having calmed down enough to satisfy her concerns. "We'll start over right in the morning, sound good?" She moves toward me with the right side of her body before stopping herself and gesturing at Yhana. "Arm?"

"Arm," Yhana agrees, setting the shoulder of it in Kyra's left palm, who then sockets it back in.

It spasms to life, and she tries that again, this time extending the trio of cables ending in a hand to shake mine. I shrug a little, and bring it in with a quiet clap. I expect her grip to be like a vice, but at worst she's just firm enough that one could not exit the shake until she's appeased, which thankfully doesn't take more than a couple of bounces.

"Alright, now nobody bother me for the next… What time is it? Is it morning?" She stops in the middle of walking away, searching for any kind of timepiece.

"Technically. Sunrise is in an hour and 26 minutes, if that means anything to you" I offer from my internal clock.

"It does not!" Kyra declares, resuming her stride. "Now, nobody bother me for like the next six hours, okay? Okay."

With that, she bounds down the hallway, up the ramp, out of sight, and a door in the distance slowly creaks shut before an unreasonable number of clattering sounds come on, each one presumably another lock.

Yhana sucks air in through her teeth, wearing an expression of uncharacteristic meekness. "So… you've met."

"Maybe the second attempt will be better?" I suggest, trying to mitigate her secondhand embarrassment.

"50/50 shot, really. Anyway, I'm going to try and catch up on lost sleep too, do you need anything?" she asks. "Sofa's there, I can get you some more blankets if you need--"

"Bathroom?" I interject. "I think she left some kind of residue on me."

"Right there" Yhana directs, gesturing with her snout toward its door. It's a small, central room that the continuous space of the living room, dining area, and kitchen wrap around. "See you in a few hours?"

"Sounds good. Go get you some rest."

"Mhm," she murmurs, heading for the corner ramp as well.

The moment she's gone, I rush to the bathroom; it's toward the large end of the spectrum of whatever still qualifies as small, but I owe that perception to my own size. I don't even hit 240 centimeters so I have to pull over a stepladder to get my face close to the spotty mirror above the sink.

That bit about the residue, credible as I think it was, was a lie; there's something else burdening me with worry now. Drawing a deep breath through my nose, I let it out through my mouth, watching it condense on the mirror.

It's black. Only a dark, transparent tint, but undeniably, it's black.

I tell myself we don't have to roll back anything, it's still the same day zero as the last revelation but that thought ends up a far cry from the comfort I had hoped it would be.

I think I'm coming apart. It would explain what went on in Yhana's stomach, right? Well no, it wouldn't, but the fact that I probably saturated the space inside with enough me to create something seamless feels like the first step of an explanation. It feels like the same effect that tethers me to every life I take, a hot coal set on the intersections of phantasmal nerve endings left to smolder for hours. But instead of burning, I just felt her, and all the things she felt.

A sigh comes out of me, and so does more ectoplasmic mist, thick and billowing and plentiful enough to fog up my reflection to the point I recognize myself only as a blob of faded colors in approximately the right shape. I back off, watching it slowly evaporate inward until it's just me again, making absolutely pitiful eye contact with myself. Unable to stand staring at myself any longer, I slink out of the bathroom, to the sofa, and set myself down, tangling myself up tight in the woven blanket.

I can't taste anything different about my own breath, but I know it's there. I wrap my scarf around my face to keep my muzzle covered, before lying my head down and closing my eyes.

I'll deal with this better if I'm fully rested, but I have to do something about it before it gets out of hand.

And I think I know just the thing.