When Cosmo finally caught up to the silhouette outside the barrier, he found Oliver standing there, his face concealed beneath a respirator.
In his hand, a small cube emitted faint pulses of light, performing visible scans across a twenty-meter radius. He was clearly searching for something, though his movements betrayed no urgency.
The difficulty of vision in the murky surroundings also didn't seem to trouble him in the slightest.
The night sky above was a deep, wavering green-black, its stars distorted through the heavy, humid air that bent their light until distant constellations shimmered like reflections rippling over dark water.
They never confirmed how many moons, if any, flew over Hortusole. Yet judging by the faint luminescence caught on every drifting particle and leaf, and the layered reflections they cast, it was safe to assume several subtle sources of illumination hung unseen beyond the canopy.
There was little sound within the forest. Not even the gentle hum of Oliver's respirator could be heard.
Only the creaking respiration of plants expanding and contracting with moisture, the faint hiss of air through hollow stalks, and, at intervals, the crisp pop of spores rupturing to release microscopic clouds.
"I'm surprised it took you this long to make yourself a mask that lets you breathe here."
"…"
"Then again," Cosmo continued, "without being an Eminent, I suppose there are more worrying factors to consider and prepar–"
THWACK!
Blood trickled down Cosmo's face from an open wound hidden beneath his hair.
The scanning cube. once in Oliver's hand, had struck his skull without warning. Cosmo made no effort to dodge it.
It wasn't the kind of blow that should have harmed someone of his caliber. It shouldn't even have left a bruise.
And yet, blood now traced a vivid path down his cheek, staining the plain grey shirt he'd chosen to transform the uniform into for comfort inside the barrier.
"Nobody's around," Oliver said flatly, "so you can stop pretending we're friends."
Cosmo bent down, retrieved the cube, and extended it back toward him.
"I'm the man who wants you dead. Or have you forgotten that?" Oliver continued as he snatched the device from Cosmo's hand. "Why do you keep making yourself so vulnerable around me? Is it that you underestimate me?"
"Far from it," Cosmo replied calmly. "I simply find it easier to talk to you when there's no inclination in effect. Besides–" his expression shifted faintly "–you've spoken of that desire so little lately that even I almost believed you were having second thoughts."
To outsiders, Cosmo and Oliver were an inseparable duo. Two halves of an efficient unit, bound by trust and mutual respect. Only one person besides them, Maria, knew otherwise.
In reality, their bond was built upon conflict: a human driven by justice, and a sinner content with the illusion of companionship it brought.
Those feelings were constant in every moment they shared, yet hidden so deeply that not even their closest allies could perceive the truth.
Despite the friction between them, Cosmo's underlying wish was to keep their exchanges as raw as possible. Depending on an Eminent's level, their will could forcibly impress itself on those of significantly lower standing, even more so on ordinary humans.
To avoid that, Cosmo intentionally suppressed his Authority to nearly zero, a feat requiring control few could comprehend. But the question remained, why go to such lengths?
Though it was said that Oliver possessed a natural resistance to higher levels of Inclination, the truth was simpler, he was just that stubborn. So stubborn, in fact, that it would take nearly double the usual level to affect him as it would the average individual.
And for someone so obstinate, he hid it well. Six months of quiet cooperation had built into a tension too thick to ignore.
It was inevitable that the first moment of privacy between them would be the spark that finally made him snap.
"Well, don't be deluded. The only reason I've cooperated so far is because Mama Maria begged me to, for the time being. If given the choice, I would've ruined all these shenanigans in a snap."
"…you would?"
"After all this time, why don't you still get it?" Oliver began, repeatedly pressing his index finger against Cosmo's chest, as if trying to dig into whatever lay beneath. "I hate you. I despise everything about you. Everything you do pisses me off. Yet you waltz around pretending you're this great, holier-than-thou person. I hope for your downfall every single waking moment, and I always regret that I promised not to take any action that might bring it about even after you took so much from me."
"…thank you." Cosmo replied after a long silence. "It's great you didn't let how you feel about me derail their development."
"Development? Pray tell, have you ever shown them their reality? Rejecting them outright was the greatest favor they could have received."
"That's a heartless way to look at it."
"Oh please. Have you forgotten how many officers die each passing day? They wouldn't have lasted one mission."
"Exaggeration. Sure, they were rough around the edges, but what they needed was a different kind of attention neither the academy nor Veil ever provided."
"Call it whatever you like. But the flaws you noted in their initiation weren't wrong." Oliver stated bluntly.
To be precise, Cosmo never intended to 'fail' anyone in that first mission. The real purpose was to find a place to begin their development, something he monitored with scouting drones assigned to follow them covertly.
"One, the twins' issue is purely psychological. Two, even considering hypersensitivity, the chatterer's response to life-threatening encounters is unbecoming of a trained officer. Three, the hairy twin-tail is still too unstable and distant. If you haven't forgotten, she attempted to take the baby girl's life when the pressure got too much. Whether she would have succeeded is not the point."
"True, but they were together for days on end, and she took good care of Argenta. We know that whatever causes her to lash out is spontaneous, triggered by anything she perceives as a potential threat to her life. If we uncover the true source of that impulse, the problem disappears."
As Cosmo spoke, he gathered several luminescent particles from the air, tucking them between his palms.
"We can't easily curb Yon's tendencies, but we can open his eyes to the rest of his arsenal. Once he realizes how versatile he could be, maybe his first instinct won't be to avoid." He continued, "As for the twins, I'm sure they've already recognized the truth about their problem, but they have to address it themselves. Learning to function independently on their own is the only real way forward. That isn't something that someone else needs to teach them, or something that can be solved in a snap."
When he'd collected what he deemed sufficient, Cosmo pressed his palms together, and the trapped particles burst outward, scattering into radiant, multicolored bright clouds.
"Four. The red-head?"
"Hm?"
"Don't play coy. How are you planning to 'help' the red-head?"
Cosmo sighed and bent down, his thoughts dragging his posture toward the ground.
"I'm not too sure, honestly. It seems the Jarul family's methods have gone too far with him."
"Weaponized jealousy," Oliver noted. "No matter what, any criticism you have of their approach is just you projecting your own sense of mentorship onto another."
"Then how am I supposed to feel about fostering a sense of abandonment in a child just to force a bloom?"
"You accept that it might have worked. The Jarul family has never produced a lackluster Eminent for Veil. And look at him now, you said it yourself. He compensates for low output with remarkable combat proficiency. It seems their cruelty pushed him closer to blooming than you're willing to admit."
The "flies" Cosmo had to eliminate the first time he met the recruits turned out to be specially designated private agents, assigned by the family to observe and covertly protect Tyson.
He had not been abandoned by his family as many would believe.
Truthfully, it was the opposite.
Up until his transfer into the Nebula base, nearly every experience Tyson endured, and nearly every interaction he'd had, were meticulously orchestrated by the Jaruls to instill a specific emotional pattern.
The only element beyond their control was Tyson's eventual enlistment in Veil.
As for how Cosmo extracted this information from the captured agents, who were willing to die before confessing, it was through a method far from moral, one that instilled a terror deeper than the fear of death itself.
"Yet you go ahead and fill his head with affirmations like 'Leaving was the best decision.' Honestly, the way you've been training him isn't all that different, is it?"
"Eavesdropping is a very bad habit of yours."
Oliver rolled his eyes.
"And you're wrong there. The bloom itself isn't the only factor that matters, the reason for it is just as crucial," Cosmo replied. "I have a serious issue with the usual catalysts for Eminent blooms. When someone is overwhelmed by deep-rooted trauma, that pain becomes the foundation of their conviction. That's such a miserable way to live. Besides, once that hatred fades, the strength it fuels vanishes with it, leaving them dependent on disdain just to function."
"Alright, but you still haven't explained how nurturing his hatred for you makes any difference."
"That?" Cosmo tilted his head with a faint smirk. "There's something the Jarul family surprisingly overlooked. Tyson's just, naturally, a good kid."
"A good kid?" Oliver scoffed. "That's something I never thought I'd hear you say. I thought the line between good and bad was supposed to be blurry for your oh-so-edgy self."
"I thought so too," Cosmo admitted with a light laugh. "Sure, he's hot-headed, reckless, and, given his upbringing, not exactly eloquent. But when it comes to others' well-being, he's always willing to step forward. So I used that tendency to plant another possible catalyst."
"Justice?" Oliver guessed. It wasn't a hard one.
It was easy to read the kind of person Tyson was. True, he was quick to clash with his captain when emotions ran high, but always in defense of his squadmates. Even on the very first day, that was the case.
Cosmo had tested this deliberately through the unique training he assigned each of his recruits.
While he ensured constant safeguards for the twins, spreading his senses and Authority over their training zones at all times, he made sure Tyson could never detect that fact.
Even Yon's habit and mobility training, which involved breaking or immobilizing a few joints, was executed painlessly through desensitization.
Sneak attacks at Rita were also purposely telegraphed, only growing less predictable as she adapted.
But from Tyson's point of view, none of this was visible. Yet, every misunderstanding had been intentional.
"I don't think the kid ever liked me to begin with, so there's no harm done there," Cosmo continued. "But more than his hatred toward me, what always stood out was his natural desire to protect. If that conviction is stronger, then even if we have to start from zero, I wouldn't mind one bit."
"That's stupid," Oliver said flatly after a moment of thought. "No, more than stupid, it's counterproductive. I won't pretend to know more about Authorities than you, but that strategy makes no sense. Are you raising heroes now? An officer who depends solely on the needs of others is useless. For the sake of the world, at times it takes a human willing to become a monster. What happens when that conviction conflicts with the mission? He'll just falter, or fail."
"As for that, well–"
"Oliver!"
Yon's footsteps pushed through the foliage covering the forest floor as he called out from behind them. "We need a little help."
"Yon," Cosmo sighed, "I believe my instructions were to stay inside the barrier at all times until instructed otherwise."
"Sorry, Captain, but the lamps turned off on their own all of a sudden and… why are you bleeding?"
They had been too engrossed in their conversation to notice his approach earlier, and with Cosmo's less-than-intelligent idea of disabling his Authority during such a private exchange, he hadn't sensed Yon either.
"Why are you not? A beautiful night such as this makes my blood boil."
"..."
"..."
"...I… I don't get it."
"Whatever. What were you saying about the lamps?" Oliver interjected before the exchange could continue down that aneurysm-inducing path.
"Right," Yon continued, "every single lamp suddenly shut off all at once, and we couldn't figure out why. The barrier was starting to get creepy, so I thought I'd just come get you myself."
"Oliver, it might have something to do with that signal you've been tracing, no?" Cosmo suggested.
Oliver paused, falling into a brief, puzzled silence. "Possibly. But those signals I traced weren't anything that complex. It'd be strange for something that wasn't specifically tuned for the purpose to disable any of my babies."
"Then it could be an internal malfunction? That doesn't sound likely for something as simple as a lamp if you made it. Not to mention, they don't share a power source. What could cause a simultaneous power-out?"
"I appreciate your trust in my abilities," Oliver said dryly, "however, an error in any procedure is par for the course for any engineer. Something like that can never be completely ruled out."
Just like that, the animosity from their earlier exchange dissolved without a trace. They spoke like old friends, and had one been watching from the start, the sudden shift would have seemed almost eerie.
"I'll go check things out myself," Oliver said. "Here, could you finish up here and contact me if you find something?"
"Sure, I've got it. Make sure you do the same if you need help."
Oliver tossed the scanning tool back at Cosmo as he walked off with Yon toward the barrier. Cosmo, meanwhile, strolled off in the opposite direction.
While the two of them made their way through the night, their path illuminated only by the faintly luminescent materials around them, Yon was the first to feel overwhelmed by the silence that followed.
Out of everyone in the Nebula branch, the person he interacted with the least was Oliver.
It made sense; no matter how he tried, he could never get a clear read on the engineer.
"So, what were you and the Captain doing out here so late?"
"Not too much. I've been observing strange echoes reaching the barrier from all directions. I wanted to understand how they were traveling before tracing the source." Oliver answered. "By the way…"
He had fallen a little behind as they advanced. Yon still couldn't pick up a single expression or gesture from him.
"...how much did you hear?"
The question carried a quiet intent Yon reacted to immediately.
He reached for his sheath on instinct, only then remembering he had left it behind inside the barrier.
"Gah!"
Before he could correct the mistake, something shot forward. A metallic, self-propelling claw clamped around his arm and hurled him into a tree, anchoring itself to the trunk and locking him into place.
As he struggled to break free, more claws followed, locking down his remaining limbs.
"I'm sure I don't need to spell out what I want from you, do I?" Oliver stepped in until they were nearly touching. "Will there be a problem, chatterer?"
Yon scoffed, meeting his glare without backing down.
"Relax. It's none of my business. My only takeaway is that our Captain might be some kind of masochist, and our engineer's a pretentious sociopath."
"You've misunderstood." Oliver grabbed Yon by the collar, his tone shifting as soon as he spoke. "The problem would be figuring out how to hide the evidence after I'm done with you. I can think of a few ways, but you'd have to help me pick the ending."
"Nice try, but now that I know what's real and what's not, I think I've figured out how you operate. You won't hurt me. You can't." Yon pushed his collar free with a sharp jerk of his head. "All that bravado doesn't hide that you're scared of him. I don't know what happened between you, but it's clear your lack of attempt on his life isn't over something simple like a promise."
"Oh, please. I'm not dealing with psych-major sh*t. Just keep this in mind." Another claw snapped over Yon's neck, firm and close. They had no clear point of origin, but with Oliver's longer jacket, black with purple edging and reaching to his lap, there was more than enough room to conceal whatever he wanted. "We're all just one happy, fine, cheerful group on our vanilla zero-to-hero arc. Understood?"
"...when you put it like that, it's kinda—"
The thought was cut short.
A rumble rolled across the distance. Something crashed hard enough to shatter. Snaps reverberated through the trees and through the air, sharp enough to sting. A shriek neither of them recognized tore through the night.
Both turned toward the barrier where the disturbance came from, and in the next moment, they were sprinting toward it, their thoughts fixed only on the others they had left behind.
Something had reached the end of its patience. Something had set its gaze on a future that had stepped into its territory. Something had fallen in love, and now exhaled in relief at a long-awaited reunion.
~"Before you know you. I do."~