She laid awake upon this so-called ‘bed’—more of a cracker of backs, to be frank—, her potent ambery eyes staring up at the droopy-looking ceiling above; this bunker creaked as much as it reeked. Uncomfortable most indeed, but she was just glad to be sleeping again…

  The clock ticked and tocked, the hands indicating that it was early morning, yet she did not have to get up—not yet at least. There was nothing ahead—or, at least, no work ahead. She wanted to sleep in… However, it was difficult.

  Her freshly awakened mind remained trapped in thought, reflecting on the day before and the events thereof…

  “It felt like a hit…”

  Indeed, the more Nine thought about it, reflecting on the chain, the more it felt as though that incident was no mere product of Fortune’s ever-conditional luck or…her own negligence. Much of this were instinctual hunches: heuristics from her experience in this so-called ‘profession’—this way of life. But she could reason it: it was a hit.

  Abigail… The way that young woman had described her…did not feel as though it was her own words, but rather…a description that had been handed. Indeed, some of the words felt too precise. While, yes, her hair was ‘maple’ and her eyes were ‘amber’, most would not immediately describe them as such, but rather as more ‘brown’, ‘orange’, or…a broad encompassing color upon first recall.

  And not only that, but Abigail seemed to have implied some…limited, at least, knowledge of what her…assignment was—why she was actually operating as maker’s little helper… And that woman seemed to know what maker’s standing with the Bureau was too.

  “Another leak, huh?” Yet by whom or by what, she certainly knew not.

  Two things had to have leaked in order for these events to follow; someone had to have known her present assignment and her description. Yet there were only so few people in this city who knew what her present assignment was, even fewer who knew why she was even in this city to begin with, and an even fewer of that fewer few who even vaguely knew what she looked like behind her Raven hood and mask. There were only a few select individuals who could possibly know two out of these three, let alone all three.

  Those who knew her mission and her assignment while she was in waiting did not know what she looked like; those who knew what she looked like did not know her assignment or mission. Maker was an exception because she was working with him—even her presiding ‘manager’, to be called thus, for her covert assignment with maker did not know her actual appearance; communication had been exclusively through her raven.

  Indeed, in general, information was intentionally left fragmented and scattered such that no one person had a total understanding of anything; while she could perhaps conceive of her assignment being leaked, it was difficult to conceive that her description could have been leaked as well…

  Frankly, she would not be surprised if this was something Bureau had done; maybe it was some kind of test… After all, it was not as though she herself were not also showing the signs…

  However, such was not merely leaked; it had been handed to those Restorationists… Thus, retaliation perhaps? For her actions the past few days…

  Nine sighed, shaking her head a little. Whatever. She had reported everything she needed to those higher. And, for this day, she did not need to think about anything relevant at all.

  Yet she began to toss and turn, uncomfortable but trying to make herself comfortable and relaxed. She turned herself over, arms dangling from this back-cracker of a so-called ‘bed’, as she passively stared at those two glimmery butterflies situated gently atop that pile of things and stuffs not to be touched…

  Mechanical and synthetic yet animate and alive. They did nothing besides remain in their position, making not even an occasional buzz. Yet their presence alone was enough to make her feel…connected; she felt safe and secure, protected and sheltered.

  Every time she had nightmares these past couple of nights, those butterflies would always tunnel in through a hole between planes and lift her up and away, causing her to awake…with warm relief rather than cold sweat. Truly, such dreams would be so funny were it not so miserably embarrassing that she was even having them.

  She felt a strange warmth every time she looked at them. Yet this warmth only made this separation…more unbearable. It had not even been a week, yet for whatever reason, she had been feeling that sort of tingly angst, one that was far more girlish and stupid than serious or relevant.

  She wanted to see her again, and the anticipation burned deeply.

  Yet with these dumb yearning thoughts in mind…

  “Bugh…why am I like this?” Nine rolled back onto her back…

  She could fluster and deny it; she could reject it; but the reality was very simple: who was she kidding? Certainly not herself… Even if she felt like she did not deserve to have these feelings, she nevertheless had such feelings… They seemed to have only worsened these last weeks; they were starting to interfere with her job, it felt…

  She was not supposed to get so attached; though, maybe her becoming attached was part of the grand scheme of things. They could theoretically replace her with someone…less, well, her. But they had not. Not even after her mistakes and…what she felt was incompetence. Indeed, from the goblin ambush, to…recruiting those two adventurers, it was not as though any of her decisions had been held with anything less than near-constant scrutiny.

  “I don’t even know what they want anymore… So tired of guessing…”

  Truly, her profession was one that could become so self-entangled that it sometimes felt impossible to truly know what actions were incorrect or correct; unintentional or completely intentional; undesired or ‘all part of the plan’…

  And things only seemed to keep changing throughout this…long and overly drawn-out year; from her intended purposes to what her mission even was—what they wanted her to even do… What this was all even about…

  Despite the fact she knew better, she had actually convinced herself that…what was officially on paper was the truth; that they were going to be fellow birdies in crime; that… Well, not that any of that mattered anymore. It had become more apparent to her after the Upperberry debrief that…the Bureau’s eggs at be had something bigger in the motions; that this arrangement was only ever going to be temporary; that…

  “I really am just her spy…” Nine sighed…

  Her eyes relooked at the ceiling above, her mind again drifting in thoughts…

  “Hmm… What’s he been up to anyway, I wonder…” she began to ponder.

  Indeed, it had been sometime since she had last heard from that certain him… He had been planning things his own, but the bombardment derailed everything, and the Bureau proper ended up overtaking him; the ‘asset’ was theirs to claim, or…had been…

  “…the Company, huh? Maker was mentioning something about them… Hm…”

  The Company was awfully interested, indeed; they certainly knew more than implied… Or maybe it was just the Exiled Legion? Either way, someone had to have leaked it to them; but there were only so few in-the-know, both now and especially before the bombardment.

  Hmm…

  “Ambery, Mapley, shortish…” Those three words in particular, she recalled, the way they were said. It could have been Abigail’s accent, though… “Does kinda sound like something that could come from… Hmm… Maybe…” Truly, things had been unraveling awfully weirdly, certainly…

  Nine continued to recollect and reflect, strings and threads stitching and connecting in mind, yet with no conclusions or definitive assumptions. Something was fishy. She could smell it; she had been smelling it… There was a familiar stink…

  However, as with all those times before, she knew when to keep quiet; she had been keeping quiet. She knew when to stop thinking; when to stop contemplating… But she was not naive, even if she was keeping much to herself for now.

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  Nine abruptly shook her head, snapping her mind out of this thinking. “Rightly, right!” She finally hopped herself off that back-cracker of a so-called ‘bed’, taking in a deep and altering breath as she stood with a determined smiling stretch. “Not my problem—not yet at least… Not this day…” Indeed, for this day alone, none of this mattered; she did not need to care.

  Today was going to be a day of rebirth and resurrection; there was much to anticipate… For she had many plans, indeed—the risks notwithstanding...

  -||-

  ? Hehm… ? Mask-obscured ignited eyes stared down at a piece of paper, expressions as blank as the paper itself.

  It was yet another boring day. Colonel Faulkner had only spoken minimally with her thus far, only calling her in to confirm certain details, recounting specific events, and asking for information regarding many mundanities—all of which she provided to varying degrees of specificity. Regardless, it appeared those so-called ‘talks’ with the Bureau were well underway, preoccupying much of the colonel’s time and energy; she was still thus left orderless.

  She thought to occupy this empty void of time and space awaiting nothingness by…practicing. Indeed, she intended to practice her long-neglected writing skills—at least appertaining to local language usage.

  Yet…there was nothing. The pen dripped with ink; it was in her hand, the tip upon the paper. Yet… She was supposed to…what? There was no writing; there were no words appearing. She had been at this for the last…however many hours—the sun was clearly transitioning towards evening. Yet still nothing was seemingly materializing.

  Hm…

  Abruptly: a potent bonk followed by fluttering wings and, indeed, relentless noises…

  …something had just slammed into her window and was now pecking at it; she immediately knew what it was.

  Caw. Caw. Caw.

  She blankly stared, unaffected… Truly, this was like Coastfield. ? Quid vuis, corve? Aliquo tempore ?etù habet. Quomo e?iam me trobas? ? she interrogated that all too familiar corvid that so featherly fluttered and pecked at the window, its gestures and movements screaming more than it needed to caw. ? Ade? ut sequea te, for?an? ? Indeed, this only suggested one thing…

  She sighed and put the pen down. This was likely important, she surmised, considering the method of contact. She should discreetly exit, then.

  -||-

  “Hm, hm, hm, huh hah heh hah…” Such awaiting hums so hummed as timid legs stood with a gentle nervous jitter. Excited and anticipating, yet also…riddled with doubt and second-guessing.

  Seriously, what was she doing? This was stupid; this was risky, considering she was compromised. Yet ever since the idea had so popped into her head the day before, doing this was an all-encompassing desire; everything she had done this day was…to ready herself for this moment; everything she had settled for this one day was for this moment.

  And, in a way, this was part of her proper duties and job, surely… This contact, the asset with whom she was encharged, had spent the last few days within the Company headquarters—on the inside. She could have information that could be helpful and…

  Oh, who was she kidding? Certainly not herself.

  This day was supposed to be her day off—she had made sure of it. She had made it absolutely clear to maker that she did not want a single job, task, or anything for the entirety of this day. This worked for him, surprisingly, since he was planning on slowing down and laying low for the time being anyway.

  But to make absolutely certain that this day remained without any work, she withheld actually providing the relevant person with her…ultimate conclusion regarding the unfounded suspicions with maker, for the time being; not even because she distrusted maker—which she did—but because she did not want to even chance being immediately reassigned to something else.

  She was still assigned to maker, and he was the one who owed her a favor… Even though she had not yet technically fulfilled her end, but that was beside the point—he was honoring it, and she would to.

  But for this day and this day alone, she was going to be a normal girl doing normal things and…spend time with…her friend—yes, her friend… Because who knew when the next time for such an opportunity would present itself; for all she knew, this could very well be the last and only one.

  “Though… Why did I have to…choose the secretive…conspicuous alley? Hmm…” Yet Nine began to feel anxious; “She’s going to…distrust all of this, isn’t she? Yeah… Probably…”

  Nevertheless, taking a calming breath, she thus waited…and awaited… Her breaths began to tense somewhat as time dragged, becoming even more anxious. This was taking longer than she was perhaps hoping…

  “What if she’s lost?” she abruptly realized, nearly gasping; “Or, or… W-what… What if he didn’t…”—she sighed—“find her…” Indeed, it was not as though her raven even knew where she was within that…large headquarters compound. Granted, her raven had unique sensitivities that made tracking and locating people easy… “Or maybe she’s ignoring…” After all, it was not as though things were exactly cordial between them anymore—at least, such was the presumption of her mind… “This was…stupid, wasn’t it?” Nine’s voice and posture dampened.

  Indeed, this was only ever going to be a gamble; deep down within, she had anticipated this outcome. At the very least, she did…do other things this day, attending to much of her long-neglected wants and needs. She was bathed, freshened up, and clean, breaths minted sweetly; her hair was nice-looking and styled a little…differently; she had even bought new attire to wear…instead of her compromised outfit and had bought a fashionable cute ‘hood’ that…was common amongst gals here…to wear on her head and cover up some of her hair.

  Indeed, she looked nice; she felt nice; this was…a good day, one worth tens of thousands…

  Yet she could not help but feel…disappointed; it was incomplete…

  Caw. In the distance afar, her ears could hear. Caw.

  A glimmer ignited in her eyes—metaphorically—, as the dread and heart-pain withdrew. She knew that type of caw; her raven was returning, and not alone…

  “Nilia…”

  She smiled wide, her legs now even more tingly and jittery… The nervousness grew, yet as did the excitement.

  -|-

  Silence. There was an awkward silence. For whatever reason, Nine was awfully quite, her amber eyes…slightly downfaced… She was nervous, stupidly nervous… She was not usually this nervous…

  ? … ? Nine did not even need to look to feel that piercing flat stare. “I greet you?”

  “Huh?” She jolted just a little bit. “Ye-yeah! H-hi… Hi! It’s… It’s been…”

  “I take it, then, that this is important?” She who now stood before her thus cut straight to it.

  Nine immediately flustered. “Im-important? I mean, uhm… Uhm…” This was not necessarily important per se, but…

  “Well, your bird dragged me to this…empty alley wherever, and you seem to be…” There was an inspecting lean, Nine could feel… “Hm. Different.”

  She noticed? Nine’s mind buzzed… She actually noticed? “Y-y-yes! Yes! Hahaha… I mean, yeah… I wanted to change my…looks up a little and try a trad-kirtle style, and this blue garment was so…pretty, and I just, you know… Yeah…” Grandmother of all Raven Mother’s children, why was she now incapable of charismatic speech?

  There was a silent stare, one that conveyed nothing readable. “Oh.” Neither did that voice convey anything discernible. “…the ‘trad-kirtle’, what is this… What?”

  “Oh,” Nine looked straight and at, “so, uhm, trad-kirtle is…common down central and…old-fashiony taverns; it’s two layers, an undergarment dress—you know, like my white sleeves—and a garment—so, this blue vest-dress that is… Yeah…”—she ahemed—“You wore something similar in Coastfield, remember? But what you’re wearing now, the dress I gave you uhm, is…‘neo-kirtle’, which isn’t two layers, but one…whole…thing… Yeah…” She was able to somewhat explain that with some confidence, at least. She ahemed; “Anyway, I wanted to blend in better, is all… Since my last clothing was…too top-northern…”

  “I see.” The enigmatic tone remained enigmatic. “So, you are taking…precautions, then? This must be important, thus? Do you bring…news, perhaps? Of…what is to happen? The ‘talks’ or…whatever. Did something change?”

  “Duhm…” Nine cramped in her reply… “I… I mean, uhm… I just…” She was flustering…

  “…just?”

  “Wow, uhm… Do you think it’s getting really hot, now?” Indeed, Nine was beginning to sweat.

  “The…weather is cold, in truth. It has been consistently dropping; the sun is setting.” So deadpan such delivery was indeed; it was always so hard to know whether this was sarcasm or…seriousness. “Are you sick? Is it that…‘bleed’, again?”

  “What?” Nine’s eyes looked straight into that half-masqueraded face that still so flicked her heart; “N-n-no! No, obviously not! You don’t ask a—” She exhaled quite the breath… “Wow, yeah… Only been a few days, and it’s like I completely forgot…” Indeed, whom she was trying to talk to…

  “Well, it is clear to me that you appear to be better than before.” Oh, so that was a jest, then? Always so hard to tell…

  “Rejuvenated, honestly… You have no idea…” Nine spoke solemnly with quite the breath, her nerves easing; she peered at that alien of an enigma… “Your hair’s a little messy, dress is wrinkly and still hasn’t been…”—she sighed—“Wow, you really don’t look the occasion…”

  “Hm?” There was yet another confused tilt to the head. “Well, thus… What is it that you—”

  “Look, it’s nothing important… No news…” Nine became slightly evasive, eyes looking aside as she…played with her fingers, blushing… “I just wanted to…hang out, I guess…”

  “Hang…out?” That head tilted again. “Hang…what out?”

  “Raven Mother….” Nine sighed again… “I wanted to talk and…walk around and…stuff…with you, I guess…” She blushed, becoming timid in stature… “That’s it… Yeah. Just the two of us, in these forms… Without anything else…”

  “Oh.” That reply was so flat it was effectively worthless as a reaction gauge. “Hm…” She was contemplating, it seemed… “Alrightly. That is fine, I suppose.”

  “Wait,” Nine was slightly surprised, “…it is? You aren’t…” Indeed, she was expecting her to be…more annoyed by the fact that she been…dragged here without any important purpose or point.

  “It makes no difference to me. Literally.” Hmm… There was something in that reply, even if…vague. “It is either this or the nothingness of that place… ‘Boredom’, that is the word, no? There is nothing for me to do either way.”

  “Huh…” Nine just stared… This was going way easier than her anxieties had been simulating. “So… Uhm… We can…walk together then and…see the city and just… Yeah?” She mellowly flustered a little…

  “It is fine to me.”

  “Duh-alrightly!” There was tension in her heart; “So… We’ll stay around the center, where…everything is…pleasant, yeah… No bad things…” She kept a hidden dagger on her, either case. “Anyway, let’s…get going, then.” Aheming, Nine thus began to walk…

  “Following you, Nine—”

  “Novea.” Yet Nine paused and turned with a mellow smile. “Different forms, remember? So… You can call me…that name instead, Nil.”

  “Oh… Rightly, I give the sorry. Following you, Novie.” Nilia so replied, her tone ever-shrouded, as the two thus ventured out, evening drifting on towards dark.