“Should you really be seeing me like this?”

  “It’s a political marriage, Cassandra, I honestly don’t care about any bad luck or ill omens that seeing you in that dress could bring.”

  Adamus hops into the chair at the end of the room, glancing at Tendo. “Hey! Tendo right? What’s with the long face?”

  Cassandra’s Father shrugs. “I guess I just didn’t picture my daughter getting married like this.”

  Cassandra does her best to comfort Tendo as Adamus groans, “Way to sour the mood!”

  The assistants all glare at him as he laughs, “I’m joking, I’m joking.”

  He claps his hands. “Why don’t you all leave? Let me speak to my betrothed privately, huh?”

  The assistants reluctantly exit, each shooting Adamus their own rude glances and gestures as he yawns at Tendo, who makes his way to the door as well. “You don’t have to leave. In fact, I think you’ll want to hear this, too, given that your beloved president is indisposed as of now.”

  Tendo’s eyes widen as he takes a seat.

  “What is it?” Cassandra asks, visibly uncomfortable in her large and unsightly white gown.

  “My Father suspects Vanessa is plotting to use this wedding as a cover for something.”

  “I FUCKING TOLD YOU!” Cassandra shouts with a wide grin, finally vindicated in her suspicions.

  Adamus plugs his ears. “Please, not so loud.” He lifts his tainted glasses to expose bloodshot eyes that he gently rubs.

  “Are you drunk?”

  “Hungover.” Adamus corrects Tendo. “I drowned my sorrows last night with the help of an old friend’s liquor cabinet.”

  Adamus slides the dark glasses back on, dusting his robes, which are still the mournful black. “I have to ask, though, before I tell you what I’ve learned about your scheming stepmother. You’ve been slipping out of the Plaza and into the city ever since the night you arrived in Rome. So, Cassandra, either you’ve become a woman of the night or you're carrying out Vanessa’s orders. Which is it?”

  Tendo turns to his daughter in shock, hoping that the impossible isn’t true.

  “How did you-”

  Adamus waves a finger at Cassandra. “You really think that I don’t know all the ways to sneak out of the home I grew up in? I’m the one asking the questions here. Are you serving Vanessa Soryu, yes or no?”

  Cassandra shakes her head, “No.”

  Adamus swiftly stands, “Good, now listen carefully, what I’m about to tell you can’t leave this room.”

  “Same play as last time.” Nadeden stands with Smith on the edge of Granix’s eye overlooking the planet below.

  Smith tugs on the bandana on their palm as they watch the ships swarm around the gray orb like flies. Their blood rubs on the fabric as Nadeden speaks. “Spot an inconspicuous ship, board it, and then land. We have an advantage this time because I spent so much time here back in the day, and I doubt Gelmidas demolished the spaceport.”

  Smith rubs their palms together. Blood spurts onto Granix’s eye.

  “What are you doing?” Nadeden questions Smith as they slap their hands onto their pants.

  “I’m trying to summon metal again. I’ve been practicing.”

  “Is that what you call it?” Granix comments, their voice echoing around the pair. “Smith hasn’t slept; they’ve been picking at that wound ever since you gave them your bandana.”

  Nadeden pulls at Smith’s arm, snatching it to examine their palm. “You need to let it heal.” She scolds Smith as they push her away.

  “What I need to do is learn how to use my powers in this body, and I need the iron in my blood to summon metal.”

  Smith smears blood on their pants once more as Nadeden huffs, “Well, I’m already sure to be spotted the second we make planetfall, and with you looking like that, we’re practically begging to be arrested. So, unless you want to be chased through another city, I suggest that you at least clean up a little.”

  Smith rolls their eyes, shrugging as they walk back to the waterfall. “Fine.”

  Smith plunges into the water, splashing around in it while still picking at their hand.

  “Smith?” Granix keeps their tone low, their face appears in the wall, poking through the clouds of steam.

  “What is it?” Smith tightens the wet bandana on their palm.

  “Nadeden is doing a lot for you. Would it hurt you to be a touch more grateful?”

  “Grateful?” Smith swims up to the face, “My people are dead, Granix, why should I be grateful for anything right now?”

  “I simply think that-”

  “No!” Smith shoots out a finger, rising from the warm water. “You should know Granix! You should be just as angry as I am! Humans destroyed your planet, too!”

  “I am vengeful, Smith, yet-”

  “Yet what?” Smith stares into Granix’s eyes as they shout, “Kindness has gotten me nowhere, Granix! Everyone keeps pushing me around, keeps telling me that I should do things their way! I’m sick of it!”

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  Blood curls around Smith’s finger. “I can handle myself!” They strike out at the face with their bloodied hand. The metal launches into the wall. Smith gasps at the sight of the blade.

  “Are you happy now?” Granix asks before their face retreats back into the stone.

  Smith tears the metal from the wall.

  A pale human face with dark eyes is reflected in the glimmer of the iron.

  No, Smith thinks in response to Granix’s question, I’ll be happy when my body is metal again.

  Nadeden tosses Smith Davon’s coat once they walk back into Granix’s head, freshly washed and dressed.

  “That may prove useful,” She states, clasping a thick green cloak she had taken from the village around her neck.

  Smith bundles the blue and gold fabric under their arms as Granix spins through space, snatching onto a nearby ship.

  Nadeden grips her bow, nocking an arrow. “You ready?”

  Smith holds out the shining, thin strip of iron, “Ready.”

  Nadeden squints, exhaling a deep sigh at the weapon, “Alright then.”

  Granix pulls the Bioship into their mouth, pinning it down with their tongue. Nadeden forces its hangar open, firing her bow at a Division soldier. She’s sure to keep the arrow with the iron tip in her satchel, and to avoid killing the men inside the ship.

  Smith, however, isn’t so careful.

  They rush forward, recklessly smacking their blade into the men until drawing blood. Nadeden pulls Smith aside and tosses the wounded soldier from the hangar as he screams.

  “What are you doing? We’re going to bring them down with us unharmed, just like last time.”

  Smith ignores Nadeden, swatting the crude sword at the wooden spear of the Ship’s pilot. The wood shatters against the heft of the iron.

  Smith raises the weapon over their head. Their dark eyes glare into the man beneath them like brutal flame ignited in a warm darkness.

  Nadeden’s bow catches the blade and tears it from Smith’s hands.

  She slams the pilot’s head onto the controls, rendering him unconscious. Granix restrains the other soldiers with hastily manifested apparitions that burst from their stone teeth.

  Smith gazes at the iron blade now lying on the Bioship’s skin floor. “Bringing down corpses would draw attention.”

  “Ya think!” Nadeden slaps the back of Smith’s smooth scalp.

  “What happened to your promise, Smith? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that it looked like you were about to kill these people.”

  Smith picks up the metal blade, twisting it in their hands before tossing it out of the ship.

  “Let’s just go.” They huff, sitting in a passenger seat as far from the pilot’s controls as possible.

  Nadeden stands over Smith, plucking on her bowstring, unsure of what she could possibly say. After a long silence, she turns away.

  She fetches her arrows and places each one back in her satchel before instructing Granix, “Put them all in.”

  Granix throws the incapacitated men into the Bioship in a single, swift toss. Nadeden loads the clump of bodies into the storage hatch beneath the ship’s skin. Once she is certain none of the men will awake, she readies the ship for takeoff.

  Granix reaches a hand out toward Smith, placing it on their shoulder.

  “Don’t lose yourself.” They state as they drop a pebble into Smith’s hand.

  Smith catches the rock with their bloodied hand wrapped in Nadeden’s bandanna. They make a fist around it. “I won’t,” they mutter.

  Granix can’t tell whether Smith spoke the words in annoyance or reassurance.

  Nadeden makes her way to the hangar. She prepares to close it as Granix’s face manifests on the stone appendage that reached inside the ship.

  “Smith, Nadeden,” Granix sighs with a heavy heart of both pride and worry.

  “Good luck.”

  Nadeden smiles at her friend. “Thanks, Granix.”

  The hangar closes shut.

  Granix opens their mouth, and the Bioship flies out toward the planet below.

  Vanessa stirs her tea as she watches the coliseum swarm with banners and decorations for tonight’s event from the safety of the window in her small but homely guest room. General Loeb stands by her side with her cape and Beret in his arms.

  “Walk me through it again.” She demands between a sip of her warm refreshment.

  “Adamus and Gelmidas know only what you’ve told them. Because you made sure to highlight the details Adamus told you about the heads, they think that’s what you’re gunning for. Cassandra quickly and suspiciously dismissed this.

  I have no doubt that the man she’s conspiring with wants the heads for himself. As for your true plan, neither Cassandra nor the Atheneums have caught onto it. Everyone seems to believe that you’ll use the wedding as your opportunity to strike.”

  Vanessa smirks, but she can’t be sure. Not yet.

  There is still one thing she needs to confirm.

  “Did Adamus look…” She searches for the word, setting down her empty teacup upon finding it, “Drained?”

  “Yes. He’s… exhausted. Emotional. Even I could tell.”

  Vanessa grins at the statement as she stands. Loeb drapes the cape over her shoulders and places the beret on her head.

  “Thank you, Tendo dear. I’ll spare you any further stress for the moment.” She slyly runs her fingers across her husband’s trembling chest, working her way up to grasp his chin.

  “Do try to enjoy yourself tonight. Your daughter is getting married after all.” She pats his cheek before stepping out of the room and into the tight hall.

  Perfect, absolutely perfect. She thinks as her cape flutters down the hall with her every step.

  That Atheneum boy is so utterly careless.

  “I couldn’t cry,” Smith mutters under their breath as the Bioship enters the atmosphere.

  Despite not wanting to be heard by her, Smith leans up in their seat as Nadeden turns her head.

  “Is that it?” She kindly asks, rising from her seat and leaving the ship to glide down on its own.

  “I would weep for the dead, if I had tears to shed.”

  Smith sighs, finally letting themself tell Nadeden of the thought they’ve kept locked inside for far too long. The thing that’s sat at the back of their mind since they were sealed into this human prison.

  “I’m not sure who I am, Nadeden. When I heard that part of the litany about weeping, I used to think that the only reason none of us Machinists could cry was because we didn’t have eyes that could do that, but now…”

  Nadeden holds Smith’s wounded hand. “There could be any number of reasons for that, Smith.”

  They hang their head. Sunlight floods in through the window, shining on Smith’s pale face and Nadeden’s scarred one.

  “I know, but still. I should at least have a sad look on my face or something. When I looked out at all that destruction, all that death, I was mortified, but now I’m just-”

  “Enraged?” Nadeden finishes the sentence.

  Smith’s hand slips from her fingers. “I did want to hurt those Men, Nadeden. I still want to.”

  Nadeden stands, making her way back to the controls to land the ship. “You want to get that feeling out of you? That rage?”

  Smith nods. Their hands become fists.

  “Alright then.” Nadeden pulls at the ship’s brain, gently setting it down in the Spaceport before she drapes the hood of her cloak over her head.

  “What are we waiting for?” She stands over Smith, holding out her hand.

  “Let’s go kill the Emperor.”

  With those words, Smith is once again lifted out of a Bioship by Nadeden.

  This time, they smile as she opens the hangar door.