Porcelain Dolls, Hannah Armstrong

They looked like shiny porcelain dolls. They walked on stiff porcelain legs down city streets, hair always perfectly coiffed and shining.They were always smiling, even when they were unhappy.

For years Willa had watched them on TV and thought about how fragile they looked, how breakable. How easy it would be to smash them to pieces.

 

 

 

Willa had checked the scoreboard that morning, while her roommate Lys disappeared into the modification chamber for hours. She was sitting comfortably at number two, the highest Willa had been in the months since filming began. They could use their viewscreens once every day to check,  but were then locked out until tomorrow.

Lys had spent so long away from their room that Willa had been sure she wasn’t coming back. She’d tried to convince herself that she was happy to be rid of one more competitor, but dread and fear had eaten away at her stomach until Lys returned. Her familiar brown eyes were now blue. Apparently, James preferred blue eyes.

Even though Lys’ body had been chiselled and whittled down to perfection, the voice that came from her mouth was the same.

‘I swear, if someone tells me to smile even once tonight, I’m going to neck myself,’ she said, crashing about their room. Willa watched as she glanced in their full-length mirror and touched her cheek with hesitant fingers, as though trying to make sure it was still really her.

Lys was the only one in the compound who still sounded like a real woman instead of a child. But James had said to Lucia last week that he liked sweet girls, pretty girls, girls who only opened their mouths to giggle and say, ‘Stop that, you’re so funny.’

‘Stop that,’ Lys said.

‘What?’

‘Stop touching it.’

Willa’s hands had been pressing at the bandages under her shirt without her realising it. She dug in a little more to feel the emptiness there, a spike of pain jabbing upwards through her body. Another rib gone. Willa wondered how many they would be able to take out before she broke in two.

She’d been keeping them in her bedside table drawer, nestled in a crushed velvet graveyard. Three white ribs neatly lined up next to one another. Sometimes at night when she was sure Lys was asleep, Willa slid open the drawer and ran her fingers over the smooth bone.

‘Stop it,’ Lys said again.

This time, Willa stopped.

 

 

 

The location for filming that night was beautiful, just as every other night had been beautiful.Willa and Lys stood in line beside ten other women that had entered the competition at the same time. The room was high-ceilinged and extravagant, with a deep navy carpet and a chandelier glittering overhead.

Each night was spent in a different room inside the compound, the walls outfitted with a million tiny holo-projectors creating exotic locations for the cameras. Last night they were lying on a beach somewhere warm, the room filled with the sound of crashing waves. Lys had sworn she tasted salt on the air.

‘Two, over here.’

That’s me, Willa remembered.

A blonde production assistant waved her over to one of the green velvet couches near the entrance, and watched impatiently as she lowered herself onto it. The smile she’d plastered on never once wavered.

The rest of the production team set to work draping Willa’s arm along the back of the couch, placing a wine glass in her hand to dangle elegantly from her fingers and tilting her head just so.

Willa wasn’t going to drink the wine. She had spent years watching previous contestants on TV with her family, taking notes on the many ways they had ruined their chances at love. She was prepared.

Not like some of these idiots. Valerie St Cloud sauntered past, her round doll’s eyes vacant. An assistant with freshly-bleached teeth fawned over her, arranging her cascade of golden curls down the back of the chair next to Willa. Girls like Val didn’t want love, not truly, not like Willa did. Just a silly breakable doll, hoping to end up high on a shelf, to be admired for the rest of her days.

Willa would have given anything to be sitting with Lys instead. Lys wasn’t one of the dolls; in fact, she wasn’t a volunteer at all. Though she hadn’t told Willa much, she had let slip a few times about how her family struggled, and how when she’d been born a girl they’d had no choice but to Nominate her for the competition. The rations they’d received in return were probably what saved them from complete destitution.

Willa suppressed a groan when the seat opposite her was filled by Maddie Pontier. Her sweet smile and guileless expression made Willa want to be sick. Of all the people she could have ended up with, it was fake Maddie and vacant Val.

‘I’m so glad they’ve put us three together,’ Maddie said, fluttering her unnaturally long eyelashes. ‘These things can go on for such a long time, can’t they?’

The producers left them waiting around for ages sometimes just to see if anyone would snap. And plenty of girls did. After all, fifty walked into the compound; only one walked out.

‘Oh, I don’t know.’ Willa looked over her cherry red manicure. ‘I could have laid on the beach forever.’

Maddie had been a celebrity in her own right long before the competition began. It was a huge advantage, being well-known before entering, and she had used her little sob story as ammunition in her fight to win the public’s heart. An orphan who rescued puppies from shelters, a kind heart in a cruel world, a friend to all. It was the reason she shot up to number one straight away and had maintained her position throughout the competition.

Longing burst to life in Willa’s stomach. To be number one was to be special, to be chosen. Not only by everyone outside, but by James.

She would kill for that.

 

 

 

The fight broke out after four hours.

It had been a while since they’d had a real fight, although Lucy had been pushed off a cliff last week and Julia’s parachute had ‘accidentally’ failed to open the week before that. Excursions outside the compound could be so dangerous.

It started with a soft sigh. Willa became aware of the way Val was shifting in her seat, fidgeting impatiently. It must have been the longest she’d gone in her life without a hit of someone’s attention.

After a moment, Val sighed even louder.

‘This is boring,’ she whined, pouting her already swollen lips.

Maddie, always looking for ways to suck up to the people around her, leaned in to brush her fingers over Val’s golden curls.

‘Gosh, you just have the prettiest hair, Val. I wish I was a blonde.’

A small smile spread over Val’s face.

‘It’s natural.’

‘It can’t be—it’s too beautiful to be natural!’

Willa nearly snorted at the heavy dose of fake amazement in Maddie’s voice. She was still combing her fingers through Val’s hair, her long, slender fingers tangling in the strands.

‘I wish I was a blonde,’ she said again.

‘Why don’t you?’ Willa cut in despite herself, losing her patience. ‘You could easily get it done.’

Maddie laughed, flashing white teeth.

‘It just wouldn’t be the same. I’m sure James loves blonde hair, but it wouldn’t suit me at all.’

‘Really? I heard he prefers dark hair.’ It was a part of Willa that revelled in the drama that said it. Lys wouldn’t have approved, but she needed something to break the monotony.

Val, who had been busy preening up until that point, looked confused.

‘Are you… lying?’ she asked Maddie. Her child’s voice wavered with the promise of a tantrum, and Willa sat back to enjoy the show.

‘Of course not.’ Maddie laughed again, but she was beginning to look uncomfortable. Her hand found its way back to her lap.

‘Why would you lie? Were you trying to sabotage me?’

Willa almost wanted to laugh too. Of course Maddie was trying to sabotage her. She was a liar, it was just what she did.

Storm clouds drifted over Val’s expression. Her mouth contorted, baring her teeth—each sharpened to a point. One moment, she was pouting like someone had taken away her favourite toy, and the next she was feral. Without any warning or hesitation, she pounced.

Maddie barely had time to let out a surprised gasp before she was being dragged to the floor by the ends of her pretty, dark hair.

A flurry went through the room as people started to take notice of the two girls rolling around on the carpet. Willa half-rose from her chair, planning on moving out of the way to watch the proceedings, when Val dug her nails into Maddie’s neck and slashed four long cuts into her bare skin.

The next moments came to Willa only in snapshots: Val’s wild eyes, the other girls gathering to watch, blood splattered across the carpet, the crunch of bone and finally Maddie, pleading for help. It went on for so long that Willa lost focus on her surroundings completely.

The rest was blissful white noise.

After some time, hands grabbed her tightly by the shoulders and Lys’ frantic expression swam into view.

‘Are you okay?’ She gave Willa a little shake. ‘Are you hurt?’

‘I’m fine,’ Willa managed.

There were flecks of something red and viscous all up the front of her dress, but that was nothing compared to the mess on the floor. Val sat in it with her head ducked and her eyes darting around, daring someone to approach her. The production team was buzzing, making frantic phone calls and trying to herd the girls back to their places.

‘I’m fine,’ Willa said again. What she meant was this is my fault.

Lys couldn’t seem to drag her gaze away from Maddie’s body now that she had made sure Willa was okay. She was shifting her weight from foot to foot and murmuring something under her breath.

‘Fuck, what are we doing?’

Willa looked closely at her friend, and saw a wildness in her eyes that hadn’t been there before. It was the look of an animal when it sensed a predator, all coiled tension and fear.

‘Why are we here? What’s the point?’ Her hands began to claw at her cheeks, her temples, as though she might be able to rip away her perfect mask to reveal her true face.

One by one, heads turned to watch Lys as the din of conversation died. Willa tried to touch her shoulder but she spun away.

The blonde production assistant from earlier was watching them from his spot by the door with a phone to his ear. Willa reached for Lys again but she slipped through her fingers. ‘You need to stop, you need to be quiet—’

‘I can’t, not anymore, I can’t. Look at her!’ Lys gestured at the floor.

Willa looked.

She had never liked Maddie Pontier. And there was only one winner. They all had to go if Willa was going to find happiness here. But then why did the guilt feel so heavy on her shoulders?

Light glinted off the cameras in the room, watching their every move. Watching her.

Lys grabbed her hand. ‘We have to leave.’

‘What?’

‘Right now, come on. We need to leave.’

Willa shook her head, her words drying up in her throat.

Security guards appeared either side of Lys, both bigger than the two of them put together. There was no point in fighting, Willa told herself as they took Lys by the shoulders. They pulled her away and their hands disconnected. Lys called out for her before she was dragged from the room, her eyes desperate and betrayed.

An assistant appeared in front of Willa, obscuring her view of the door. ‘One, you’ve got time with James.’

That’s me, Willa realised.

 

 

 

He was waiting for her in another room.

James sat amongst a nest of pillows and blankets under a canopy of twinkling stars, the sound of cicadas echoing all around them. The air smelled fresh and Willa drank it in greedily, to wash her lungs free of metallic blood.

When James smiled at her as she settled down next to him, it was almost possible to forget everything that happened earlier.

‘How are you finding things?’

He never said hello. He told her the first time they met that any social niceties would just be edited out later.

Willa wanted to giggle and flirt, and turn it on for the cameras. But instead what came out was a fractured, shaking, ‘Where is Lys?’

James opened his mouth to reply and promptly shut it. He smiled at her again, a disarming grin that had never failed to provoke butterflies every time he used it on her.

She felt nothing.

‘I want to see her.’

James gazed into the middle distance and touched a hand to his earpiece. He really wasn’t as handsome up close, Willa realised.

Panic poured into her cavernous chest like a swelling wave. It crested, roared and overwhelmed her.

‘Answer me.’

‘What am I supposed to say?’ The question wasn’t directed at her. James listened intently to whoever was instructing him for another moment before his expression cleared.

He took her hand and ran his thumb over her skin. Willa could remember when he held her hand just last week, how she had felt full to bursting with joy and hope. She tried to conjure up that same feeling, but her mind was busy replaying the look Lys had given her before she left.

‘You’ll see her when you head back to your room,’ James said. His voice was warm like melting honey even as he lied. ‘Why don’t we talk about something else for now? I want to get to know you better.’

It felt like a confirmation and Willa’s stomach dropped.

What would they do with her? Lys was strong, far stronger than Willa, and they had to know they couldn’t subdue her with bribes or manipulation. There would be only one way to keep her quiet.

And if it could happen to Lys, why couldn’t it happen to Willa?

Grief filled her empty spaces. Grief, and the longer James watched her with that frozen, vapid smile, anger.

They weren’t allowed weapons in the compound, only nails and teeth and spiteful words. But there was one thing they let Willa keep, the last part of herself—her bones.

Willa closed her eyes and lived the moment in perfect detail. The expression on James’ face when she brought the rib down, the whistle it made as it flew through the air, the sickening crack as it made contact with his skull. And then the blood that flowed down his rugged face.

When she opened her eyes, she still ached.

James was smiling, but his eyes were confused. Last week, Willa had been falling all over herself every time he so much as glanced her way, and now she couldn’t even muster up a smile in return.

‘Willa?’

Willa felt a dull, distant surprise that he even knew her name. Everything had become clear, like a fog had been lifted from her brain. There would be only one way out of this mess.

She giggled and laid a hand on James’ tanned forearm. His confusion cleared.

‘James, you’re so funny. I don’t want to talk about me, tell me more about you.’

Willa was going to be better, smarter, than the rest of them. She was going to win.

 

 

 

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After Life, Caitlyn Radice

Ink stared down at her exposed metallic forearm. Her eyes travelled up to the jagged scar at her wrist, and she wondered if it was still considered a scar if the skin was synthetic. Frowning, she touched her wrist, and tried to remember if it felt the same when she was human. Her blue eye zoomed in on her elbow joint, focused on the dust that had collected. She decided to clean it properly later on.

Picking up her satchel and slinging it over her shoulder, she shifted a heavy, metal vase so it sat more comfortably against her side. It clinked against a set of little, glass bowls. Today, she had been fairly successful in her search. That is what she did each day: searched the suburban ruins for anything of value. She often found frames with ruined photos. Ink would always stare at the faces in them, despite how sick it made her feel. Leaving these alone, she would collect other household belongings. If she was lucky, she would find jewellery.

Ink had managed to find a paperback today. The pages were yellowed with age and dirt, and the cover looked as though it had been heavily buffed with sandpaper. The title was barely legible: P de & re udi e. Due to the phasing out of physical books towards the start of the war, one in such good condition would be worth a lot. But Ink would not trade it for anything.

Tugging on the strap of the satchel, she decided that she had searched enough of the suburban ruins for the day, and headed back into the city. The sky behind the remaining buildings was orange with the end of the day. The small number of cyborgs who now inhabited the city had cleaned it up as best they could after the war, but they had not yet been able to rebuild. The skyline often gave Ink the impression of decay. It often felt weirdly hollow.

As she made her way through the crumbled structures of the central city, her reminder popped up in her vision: feel. Two parts of her mind argued with each other, one groaning about how stupid her reminder was, and the other reminding her that she had set it up because it was important. Stopping her walk, she let the breeze trail over her skin and through her hair. She focused on her skin, and tried to feel the heat from the setting sun. Ink thought she felt warmer, though she was unsure if she was only imagining it. She had spent plenty of time in the sun as a human, often in small hidden beaches. The oceans were now completely toxic with waste and chemicals.

Ink swiped away the reminder, feeling a longing for salt and sand. She felt a tug on her bag and immediately spun around to attack the offender. Z, expecting this, grabbed her wrist and stopped her from blowing him up.

‘Easy there, Lightning,’ he gave her a grin.

‘Why do you always do that?’

Z peered into her satchel. ‘You know, there’s no prize for finding the most stuff in one day. What happens when you find all the things there are to be found? What will you do then?’

‘Maybe I’ll make it my personal mission to annoy you all day, as you seem to do for me,’ Ink pulled the bag out of his grasp and continued her walk.

Z laughed and fell into step with her. ‘You headed to Nova’s?’

Ink nodded, and let Z ramble about the day’s happenings. Everything was always so exciting to him. She wondered what the inside of his head might look like. Ink noticed that his brown hair flopped down over his forehead, slightly obscuring his vision.

‘Why do you style your hair that way?’

Z took a second to catch on. ‘I like the way it looks. Don’t you think it looks good?’

Ink shrugged. ‘Does it matter how it looks? Doesn’t it bother you?’

‘No, and no,’ Z said with an easy smile. ‘Not everyone is as practical as you.’ He gestured to her cropped black hair. ‘And it took me ages to grow it to this length. Before, I used to have to get a haircut every fortnight.’

‘Hm,’ Ink replied, looking at him with her natural brown eye. Her right eye—the robotic one—contrasted greatly with it, glowing bright blue. Z’s eyes were both blue. The right was the same glowing blue as Ink’s, and the left was a natural sky blue. He looked almost completely human in the sunlight.

‘Don’t act like you don’t care about your appearance,’ Z said. Ink sighed. ‘If you didn’t care, why would you get your ears pierced? And don’t think I can’t see your eyeliner.’

‘I get it, Z.’

When Z spoke again, it was with a softer tone than Ink was expecting. ‘I know you’re mad about your arm being exposed like that.’

Frowning, Ink looked away.

‘Hey, I hear the scientists are getting pretty close to testing skin repairs. They’ll be able to fix it soon.’

‘Yeah, maybe.’

After a few moments of silence, Z said, ‘I like your arm the way it is. So does Nova.’

Ink did not respond to this, and they walked in silence to Nova’s shop. The shop was a tiny place, located on a narrow street deep in the central city, squashed between two destroyed buildings. Nova lived in the loft above the shop. On the left side, a makeshift food trade was set up in the remains of a restaurant. The other side was only the foundation and one wall of a building. Travellers often set up there to trade. When it rained, weeks would go by without anyone passing through, leaving all of them bored and Nova’s store packed with the valuables Ink had collected. Ink and Z were about to let themselves in before they heard a shout from above.

‘Nova?’ Ink called.

‘Up here!’ Nova was perched on the gutter above them. ‘There was a hole in my roof, I just finished patching it up.’

Nova’s store was mostly undamaged, though she had done a lot of repairs since settling in.

‘Good, come down,’ Ink said, ‘I brought you a gift.’

Despite being able to jump down from the roof, Nova climbed down slowly. ‘So, you know that hideous floral cat thing? The one that ornament guy gave me a few months back?’

Ink and Z both laughed. Once, a man with only ornamental animals to trade had stayed on the foundation for over a fortnight. He would exchange the ornaments for food. They all found him extremely odd, as he hardly blinked and thought that only prepackaged food was worth trading for, despite it being bad for their bodies.

‘Of course,’ Z said. ‘Completely unforgettable.’

‘Well,’ Nova hopped down to the ground, ‘I finally got rid of it today!’

‘Did you toss it in the trash, like I told you to?’ Ink asked.

‘No, someone actually wanted it,’ Nova shrugged.

‘I wonder what kind of nut-case…’ Ink mused, digging through her bag.

Nova peered into the bag with wide eyes, looking more childlike than usual. ‘What did you find?’

Ink held up a finger, finding the book beneath the metal vase. She presented it to Nova with false dramatics, before giving her a soft smile.

‘No way… Where did you find this?’ Nova gently leafed through the yellow pages. ‘It’s in such good condition… Thank you!’

‘It’s no big deal, Nova,’ Ink said.

Nova shushed her. ‘Yes, it is. I’ll be right back.’

Ink and Z followed Nova inside the shop, a little bell tinkled as the door opened. As she skipped down through the shelves to put the book with her collection, Ink watched her blonde head disappear into the back room.

Z chuckled. ‘It’s no big deal, Nova,’ he repeated, doing a poor imitation of Ink.

‘Shut up, Z,’ Ink glared at him.

‘You make it so easy,’ Z laughed. ‘Going all soft when you see her.’

Ink huffed in response.

‘Don’t be mad, at least you have someone.’

‘I do not have someone,’ Ink felt exasperated. ‘I just care about her.’

Z rolled his eyes. ‘You do have—’

Ink shushed him as they heard Nova shut the back door. ‘Hey! Guess what Chef brought me today! Ever since they were able to get stable crops growing, he’s been experimenting with recipes.’

She returned carrying a bowl of biscuits. ‘They’re delicious, you have to try one.’

Ink eyed the bowl suspiciously. Z immediately grabbed one, and gave her a look. ‘Oh, come on, Ink. You’re still not doing that anti-food thing, are you?’

‘I’m not anti-food,’ Ink said defensively. ‘I just don’t see the point. Just because I have a functioning digestive system doesn’t mean I have to use it.’

‘The point is,’ Z managed around a mouth full of biscuit, ‘that they’re delicious.’

‘You don’t have to have one,’ Nova said, ‘but they are really good.’

‘Come on,’ Z dragged out the words, ‘you’re gonna die of starvation.’

Ink snorted. ‘That’s literally just not going to happen. Unless those biscuits are hiding powerful explosives, none of us are going anywhere.’

Z sighed theatrically, holding out a biscuit to her. ‘Enough with the doom and gloom. Just eat the damn biscuit.’

‘Only to shut you up.’ Ink took it from him. She took a tentative bite. It was crumbly, with a citrusy flavour. Lemons. It was not really sweet nor savoury. She thought it may have been something she would have enjoyed before. Both of her friends were looking at her expectantly. Ink shrugged. ‘It’s good.’

Z cheered dramatically. Ink rolled her eyes at him. Nova caught her eye and smiled.

 

When the sun had long disappeared beyond the horizon, Nova was immersed in her new paperback and Z was looking through a deck of faded tarot cards. Ink, having finished stocking the shelves with her latest finds, climbed up to the loft and helped herself to another biscuit.

Z pulled himself up and stretched. ‘Time for bed.’

‘Do you want to stay here tonight?’ Nova asked.

‘Nah, don’t want my neighbours to worry.’

‘Ink? Are you going to stay?’ Nova asked both of them to stay almost every night. Ink thought that she might not like staying by herself, or that she worried for them. Either way, Ink usually declined.

‘Um, yeah,’ Ink said, ‘if that’s okay?’

‘Of course it is.’ Nova’s smile was bright, but Ink was sure she saw a glimpse of relief in her eyes.

Z raised his eyebrows at Ink from the doorway. ‘See you tomorrow.’

‘Bye, Z!’ Nova called as the door swung shut.

Ink sat by the window and watched him walk out into the quiet main street. She considered what he had said earlier, about her having someone, and wondered whether that was something he thought about often.

‘Tea?’ Nova had moved to the small kitchen.

‘Please.’

Ink watched as Nova filled the kettle. ‘Will you be alright on the couch?’

‘Yeah, that’s fine,’ Ink nodded. She was unsure about whether she would sleep. She just knew she did not want to be alone after the nightmare she had suffered through the night before. Ink had seen herself waking up, being addressed by her code: NK653, and told that she had completed the transition from human to cyborg. The scene changed from a man thanking her for her service, to her standing in the middle of a burning city, sending buildings crumbling with blue heat from her palms. She remembered hearing a voice inside her begging her to stop. The dream ended when her attacks turned to people, and it had shocked her awake.

Ink’s system shuddered at the memory.

‘You okay?’ Nova asked, handing her a chipped mug.

Ink nodded. Silence settled between them as Nova went back to her book. After a long while, Ink decided to ask what was on her mind. ‘Do you ever… feel bad?’

Nova gave her a questioning look.

‘Like, guilty? For things you did?’

Nova thought for a moment, then closed the book. ‘Sometimes, but it’s not our fault.’

‘Isn’t it?’ Ink asked. ‘We signed up for it.’

‘We did,’ Nova nodded, ‘but we couldn’t have known it would end up like this.’

Ink shook her head. ‘We should have known. There was no other way.’

‘The humans set off the En-X, not us. They destroyed themselves, and we were under their control. We didn’t know what we were doing.’

‘But we did,’ Ink argued. ‘I knew when I signed up. Just because I, personally, didn’t set off the gas doesn’t mean I didn’t play a part in it. I can’t sleep without seeing the horrible things I did. The faces of people…’

‘You can’t blame yourself for the whole war. Everyone thought they were doing what was right. Just because it turned out like this doesn’t mean it couldn’t have turned out differently.’

Ink started to feel irritated. ‘But it didn’t turn out differently. We helped cause Earth-wide human extinction. We are responsible for that. I can’t just pretend to be a human when I killed them.’ Ink looked down at her metal forearm. ‘I’m not even human. None of us are.’

‘Okay, so we’re responsible for it,’ Nova said. ‘There’s nothing we can do about it now. We were human. Before this. Part of that is still in you.’

Ink did not have a response to this. Nova got up and sat next to her. Grabbing one of Ink’s hands, Nova held it tight and looked her in the eyes. Ink ignored the glowing blue on the right and looked into Nova’s hazel eye.

‘I know you don’t see the point,’ Nova said, ‘but we’re what’s left. It’s not all bad, so why shouldn’t we try to make a life? We can’t die, we can’t have children, it’s just us. Unless a meteor hits the earth and destroys us.’ Ink cracked a smile at that. ‘Don’t put so much pressure on yourself to feel a certain way.’

Ink nodded. Its not all bad. She mulled over this, wondering if it were true, and let the silence settle for a few long moments before breaking it. ‘Do you remember much about being human?’

‘Some things,’ Nova paused for a moment. ‘I remember collecting stuff. Books. Candles. I had so many candles. I used to have this one that smelled like cherries and flowers and sunset. I never burned it because I wanted to save it for a special occasion.’ Nova cuddled herself closer to Ink. ‘Do you remember anything?’

‘Some things,’ Ink repeated. ‘I used to love soaps. And lotions. Anything that made my skin smell nice. And I never wanted kids. Just pets.’

‘That sounds nice,’ Nova smiled.

Nova made more tea, and they spoke until the sun started to rise. Ink found herself pulled into Nova’s arms, her head resting against Nova’s shoulder. Nova eventually fell asleep with her empty mug in her lap. As Ink planned where she would go that day, the sinking feeling of guilt washed over her. She would have to see their destruction. Possibly her own destruction.

Placing her empty mug on the window sill, she found a rag and started to clean her exposed elbow joint. As she polished it, she contemplated not going out to the ruins, and doing something different with her time. Ink gazed out the window as the sun climbed into the sky, and thought that maybe Nova was right: it might not be all bad.

 

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