Chapter 94: Chapter 16.5 The Silent Asha The command center’s sofa was winning. Jin had tried six different positions, and each one made his spine question his life choices with a fresh, synthetic squeak. The faux leather was a special kind of hell, designed to look comfortable while actively conspiring against comfort. "Can’t sleep?" The voice was low and familiar. Jin didn’t need to look up. Scarlett was leaning against the doorway, a silhouette of contained energy against the dim emergency lighting. She was still in her training gear, a thin sheen of sweat on her arms, even though it was past 0200. Of course she was. Her twin swords were strapped to her back, an extension of her body she never put down, even here, in the one place they were relatively safe. "My room’s..." Jin gestured vaguely toward the corridor, the word ’occupied’ hanging unsaid in the air. "I saw," she said, a hint of amusement in her voice. She moved into the room with a fluid grace that Jin envied, grabbed a standard-issue chair, spun it around in one smooth motion, and sat, straddling it with her arms crossed over the back. "She built a nest." Jin sat up, rubbing his face. "She said it was necessary." A small, almost imperceptible smile crossed Scarlett’s face. "Did she really try to schedule baby-making days?" "Please don’t remind me." Jin groaned, flopping back against the squeaking cushions. "She had a calendar. A color-coded calendar. Little red hearts on specific dates." "I wish I could have seen your face," Scarlett said, the smile finally reaching her eyes. It’s pqrobably the most entertaining thing that happened." "That’s not funny." "It’s a little funny." She pulled a water bottle from a pouch on her belt, took a sip, and tossed it to him. "We’ll figure out the Eve situation. Eventually." They sat in the almost-quiet. The vault was never truly silent. It hummed with the constant, low thrum of life support systems, air recyclers, and the massive machinery that kept them alive in the planet’s toxic embrace. It was the sound of a fragile bubble of existence in a vast, dead ocean. "Hey, Scarlett?" "Mm?" "Can I tell you something? Without you immediately going into tactical-assessment mode?" She tilted her head, her expression unreadable. "That’s basically how I process everything, Jin." "I know, but—" He stopped, trying to find the right words. "Something’s happening to me." "Okay," she said, her voice even. Not even surprised. "That’s it? Okay?" "You want me to panic? Pull out my swords?" She leaned back, her posture relaxed but her eyes sharp. "Talk. I’m listening." Jin stared at the water bottle in his hands, the condensation tracing paths on the plastic. "I’m changing. I think. Now I’m... more worried about everything. When those crawlers attacked yesterday—part of me was terrified, but another part, a cold, calm part, felt... satisfied when my blade cut through their flesh. It’s not normal right?" "No," she agreed quietly. "It’s not." 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝙚𝙬𝓮𝙗𝒏𝙤𝒗𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝒐𝓶 "And the way I’ve been fighting. I know moves I never learned. I parried a strike from Shūmei yesterday, a perfect block I couldn’t have replicated a million times. And I say things that don’t sound like me." He looked up, his eyes wide with a fear that went deeper than any monster they had faced. "What if I wake up one day and I’m not me anymore?" Scarlett was quiet for a long moment, her tactical brain clearly running simulations, assessing threats. Then she spoke, her voice softer than he’d heard it in weeks. "My mother used to say we’re all different people throughout our lives. The person you were at ten isn’t who you were at fifteen, and won’t be who you are at twenty. We’re a collection of memories and choices, constantly being rewritten." "This is different," Jin insisted. "This feels like someone else is doing the writing." "Is it?" she countered. "You got shoved into this situation—monsters outside, a planet that wants you dead, asked to save what’s left of humanity. That would change anyone." "But what if I become something bad? Something... Evil?" "Then we stop you," she said, her voice flat, matter-of-fact. The simple, brutal honesty of it made Jin’s chest tighten. "Just like that?" "Just like that." She stood and stretched, the movement economical and precise. "But Jin? I don’t think you will." "Why not?" "Because truly bad people don’t worry about becoming bad," she said, looking down at him. "They just find ways to justify it. The fact that you’re scared of changing, that you’re questioning it, means you’re still you. The day you stop caring about that fear is the day we start to worry." He let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. "That’s... weirdly comforting." "I have my moments." She paused at the door, her hand on the frame. "Get some sleep, Jin. You look like hell." "Night, Scarlett." "Goodnight, Jin." The door hissed shut behind her. The couch squeaked as Jin shifted, and suddenly a new kind of silence hit him—the one inside his own head. "Asha?" he whispered into the empty room. Nothing. He sat up, suddenly fully awake, a cold knot forming in his stomach. When was the last time he’d heard her? He tried to think back. The Entity had shown him things he’d buried so deep even he hadn’t known they were there. "Asha, come on. Status report?" Silence. A vast, echoing emptiness where a constant, sometimes annoying, but always present voice used to be. He tried to pull up his HUD—the familiar blue overlay that tracked his vitals, showed his HP, and monitored his affinities with the others. He focused, using the mental command that was as natural as breathing. Nothing. Not even a flicker of static in his vision. "Affinity check," he said aloud, feeling stupid but desperate. "Show me Sera’s trust level." The space in his mind where the data should appear remained stubbornly, terrifyingly blank. His hands started shaking. A cold sweat broke out on his forehead. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. "Asha, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t listen better. Please come back." "Asha, please. I need you." His voice cracked, the sound pathetic in the quiet room. "I know I complain about your lectures and your constant monitoring, but I miss them. I miss you. I miss my friend." He closed his eyes, trying to remember the last thing she’d said to him. Then, a different voice slithered into his mind, smooth as oil and ancient as dust. ’Looking for your little helper?’ Jin’s entire body went rigid. "What did you do to her?" he hissed, his hands clenching into fists. ’Nothing. She’s... sleeping.’ "Bring her back. Now." ’No.’ "That’s not—you can’t just—" ’I can. She’s been quiet since I showed you your mother’s death, hasn’t she? You only just noticed.’ Jin’s chest tightened until it was hard to breathe. Asha has been annoying—constant lectures about diet, sleep, and combat techniques. But she’d also been there: his guide in this new world, his friend. "Why?" he choked out. ’Because she would interfere with what I need to show you. She thinks she understands what I am.’ ’I’m going to show you the Tsurugi bloodline.’ Jin lay back down, the couch feeling even less comfortable. "S-she’s really okay?" ’I told you: she’s sleeping.’ Jin closed his eyes, feeling lonelier than he had since he’d first woken from cryo-sleep to find the world ended. ’Scared?’ the Entity asked, a hint of that ancient amusement returning. "Yeah," Jin whispered, the admission costing him what little pride he had left. "I am." ’Good. You should be. I’m going to show you everything. Generations of Tsurugi blood, all carrying pieces of what I am. You need to understand what you’ve inherited.’ "What are you?" ’What we are,’ the Entity corrected, its voice suddenly younger, hungrier, filled with a terrifying purpose. The darkness behind Jin’s eyelids began to shift, the blackness bleeding into a deep, bloody crimson. "Wait—" ’Too late.’ The world dissolved. The couch, the command center, the feel of his own limbs, the lingering scent of recycled air—all of it faded into nothingness. He was adrift in a sea of red. ’Watch,’ the Entity commanded, its voice echoing in the non-space that now held him. ’Watch and understand what founded the Tsurugi line. Watch the man who wore this name before it was a name. Watch the demon who became a god.’ Jin’s last thought swallowed him whole was the simple and desperate, a prayer thrown into a void he knew wouldn’t answer. ’Asha, if you can hear this, please come back. I’m sorry I didn’t listen. Please.’ There was no answer. Only the sensation of falling backward through centuries.