Arc 7 | Chapter 253: Not Hated and Ignored

[

Darrie:

Hey, I think you sent this to the wrong person.

]

Emilia frowned at the message, unsure what to think of it. Darrian had been one of the people she’d sent an offer out to, seeking to unload her raid rewards. Over half a day later, she’d yet to hear from anyone other than Boyd’s teammate, and honestly, she’d been just trying not to think about it.

The reality was, she knew she’d pissed a lot of people off by vanishing from their lives. The people she’d seen so far might not have seemed too put out by her, but all of them were weird—non-devs and black knots and Simeon, who was an oddity unto himself. As for everyone else… well, she’d expected them to either tease her or be pissed. She deserved their ire and passive-aggressive teasing, but the fact that nearly everyone she’d sent the offer off to hadn’t responded, had seemingly fallen into the category of

people who are so pissed they’re refusing to even talk to me…

Yeah, that had been concerning her. Now, reading Darrian’s message over and over, turning what he said over… What if everyone had figured that was the case?

Grabbing hold of Hyr’s hand so the syn could lead her through the maze of white halls that made up to first level of the PVP raid, the only decoration marks left behind by {Splattered ON}, Emilia finally sucked it up and opened their unit’s group messages. Quickly, she scanned through what had been said since earlier that morning, when she’d begun avoiding even looking at the new message indicator, lest she realize the people who weren’t messaging her back were still active in it.

Mostly… there was nothing too exciting, just general chit-chat, some arrangements being made for a meet up the night the season turned over—apparently more people would be attending the semiregular meetings than usual, not that Emilia really paid much attention to those meetings. The most she generally retained of those discussions was where everyone was getting together, so she could be as far away as possible.

There was also some speculation as to whether Helix would show, as filming would have wrapped up by then, and whether he’d be dragging Lux’s sister—who in a strange twist was also a crew member on Above the Clouds—with him. Considering Helix had so far managed to keep his attachment to Division 30 from becoming public, opinions were split on whether he’d let the girl know he had known her late sister once the cameras were gone.

So, no one—not even Darrian—had mentioned her message. Everyone she’d seen in the last days—fuck, had it really been little more than a day since she’d run into Olivier and her life had somehow imploded?—was also quiet. The most anyone had said was Samina, telling everyone that she was fucking off on vacation with

an old friend

for the week. People had asked for photos. Emilia was tempted to supply them, once they got to actually vacationing.

Whose idea was it to join the PVP raid, again? Had chasing those purists down really been worth the hours they’d be spending in here? At the moment, Emilia was inclined to think that no, it really hadn’t been worth it. Yet, she also knew if they hadn’t come—if she let herself be killshotted so she could retreat to their rooms—she’d regret it.

Fuck.

“Uh… it wasn’t a mistake,”

she replied to Darrian’s message, sending along an image of her pouting for good measure, Hyr’s thick, golden arm visible in the photo as she clung to it.

“I had to go into a raid to get a specific reward. I don’t raid enough to use the rest of the shit they sent me, so I offered it to everyone I knew liked raids. Do you, uh, think that’s what everyone else thought as well? That it was a mistake? Only one person responded.”

Sighing, Emilia looked over the list of people she’d sent messages about the rewards to.

“You should let them know it wasn’t a mistake,” Hyr said, reading her mind just like they always did, or perhaps, reading the aether to see some future where she wasn’t a baby and sent off clarifying messages. “You can also have my stuff,” they added, a moment before foisting most of their own rewards on her.

“Hyr!” she hissed over Conrad’s cackling laughter.

Whether he was laughing over her pain—seriously, this was too much stuff!—or the massive group that had taken to chasing them through the raid, intent on revenge, she had no idea. The group was annoying, and filled with veritable children who seemed to be from The Penns. Not only did their attitude and accents mark them as such, but each of them looked vaguely familiar. She couldn’t place them, but if they turned out to be related to someone she once knew, she wouldn’t be surprised.

Technically,

she could utilize The Black Knot’s systems to identify people, even without their name. There was a back door into that system, however, allowing her to search with a name and not be logged, but searching with only a face would notify a handful of people she was in the system. It wasn’t like she’d get in trouble—not really, anyways—but she’d definitely get a message about using Black Knot resources for ridiculous reasons.

Identifying who the annoyingly loud and crass children were would definitely be classed as ridiculous, even if popping into their relatives’ messages with complaints about their relatives would be amusing.

“Emilia,” Hyr said, just her name on their tongue enough to chastise her.

“Fine…” she grumbled—it really was unfair that Hyr could read her evil intentions—the syn pulling them to a stop as Conrad zoomed forward to take out several unsuspecting heroes. A second later, she had sent off a message to everyone telling them that she’d been informed at least one person had thought her message was a mistake, but it wasn’t, before turning back to Darrian’s message.

[

Em:

seriously, i have too much shit

]

[

Em:

please take something

]

[

Em:

please take many things

]

Her childhood friend didn’t immediately respond, which kinda sucked. Maybe despite thinking she’d sent the message by accident—which, how would she have even done that!?—he actually was too pissed to speak with her. Darrian not speaking with her would be brutal—he and his cousin had been two of the first

normal

children to be brought into their friend group—but deserved, and—

Emilia's thoughts trailed off as messages began to filter into her from a large portion of the people she’d messaged. Most of them agreed with Darrian’s sentiment: they had also assumed it was an accident—which, again, how!? A few of them laughed, amusement sliding through the messages and filling her heart with happiness, as they told her that despite assuming it was a mistake, they’d been tempted to try taking her up on the offer.

[

Viola:

Seriously! Some of that stuff is sooooo good!

]

[

Viola:

Are you sure you don’t want it? And all that stuff you just added? Some of that stuff is worth fucking bank~

]

“You sure you don’t want the stuff that’s worth a lot?” Emilia asked Hyr, already knowing they wouldn’t care. Not only was Baalphorian money not really useful in Nur’tha—the exchange rate was a bitch—but something told her Hyr already knew full well that if they had need of money, she would give it to them. Probably, Conrad would give them money as well. Who knew how good the exchange rate was wherever he was from, but the guy screamed money—old family money, probably.

[

Em:

from another person in the raid

]

[

Em:

they forced their stuff upon me

]

More amusement fluttered through their connection, Viola—a rare, non-Penns Sub-30 who had lived the majority of her life in the capital and been introduced to her shortly before the war by Olivier’s younger brother, Antoine—poking and asking for the story on the whole situation. Her reaction—taking the opportunity to forcefully wiggle into a conversation—was different from almost everyone else.

Darrian had returned, asking polite questions that she could easily have given one-word answer to, had she wanted to disengage from the conversation. Wyren, Chvree and Sorvell were taking similar approaches, while Hanalea—a not-quite-exile from Mitine Dyn, a Free Colony to the west of Chinsata with just as problematic a history—was being her usual, cryptic self and asking about things she shouldn’t know about. A handful more people had acknowledged her message and told her they’d look over the rewards and message her about it later. Several of their messages included exact details of what they were doing and why they couldn’t look or harass her with questions immediately.

A few people had yet to respond, but the number was minuscule now—small enough that Emilia assumed some of them were just unable to respond to her follow-up message. A few were probably pissed with her and refusing to respond—and honestly, half the people who hadn’t responded had actually fallen into her category of

people liable to need coaxing into talking to me again.

“Feel better?” Hyr asked, giving her hand a squeeze as she continued message Viola and Darrian, throwing out messages to the others that she wasn’t blowing off their attempts at conversation, that she was busy being dragged through a raid and messaging pushier people, or that she’d talk to them once they all weren’t busy, depending on what was appropriate.

Probably, she could have chatted with a few more people—and given the whines that echoed out of Wyren and Sorvell’s messages, they seemed to agree, each of their subsequent messages pushier and pushier because that was the bar she’d accidentally set for who she responded to first.

Then, of course, she nearly tripped when Hyr stopped moving. They caught her, of course, but also!

“What’s up?” she asked, blinking back into the alpha-version of Hyr’s sight, and seriously, the moment she was able to edit it even a bit she was going to give it a name. Clearly, it had been too long since she’d last coded anything! She should have known to give the function at least a temporary name, referring to it as

the alpha-version of Hyr’s sight

was going to get old fast. Had there been times when her terrible, placeholder names for functions and skills had stuck and there were significant regrets? Yes, but this was just as annoying!

While she couldn’t interrupt what Hyr was seeing—and something told her what she was seeing wasn’t nearly as detailed as their own vision was—she could tell that something was gently tugging Conrad down a specific path, towards a specific person slowly moving through the raid.

“You should go,” Hyr told the man, who had scurried back to them, his own eyes lit up in fascination as he also let himself see this mysterious future of his written through the world.

“Do you know why the aether wants me to go that way?” he asked, peering up at Hyr like a child having the best day of their life. Perhaps for a Free Colonier who had already believed in the synat’s seeing, that was exactly what this was: a great day, fun and interesting and filled with wonder.

It was still hilarious, seeing Conrad stare up at Hyr with a near-manic grin, his eyes huge. It would have been amusing no matter what, but the fact that Emilia was pretty sure Conrad had a hundred years on Hyr made it impossibly funnier.

Truly, her friend didn’t act his age—neither of them did, really. Combined with the fact that Conrad clearly had spectacular genes and had aged well? Well, it didn’t matter that Hyr clearly looked like they were only days from being a legal adult in the eyes of the Baalphorian government. Assume they had great genes as well—which they probably did, given the amount of power and potential inside them—and it would be easy to imagine the pair were closer in age… although that would require assuming Conrad had actually aged prematurely.

Still, it was cute and silly, and when Hyr told Conrad that he would

have fun

that way, the man lit up and raced off, microsparking as he went because just like her—just like every member of Division 30 as well—he wasn’t afraid to microspark or spark on a moving vessel.

“We’ll have to play spark tag with you one day,” she noted, smiling up at Hyr like she hadn’t just suggested they play what was considered to be the most unpleasant game imaginable—at least until you could spark without any discomfort, then it was fucking euphoric, especially with a good group and soundtrack—but also the fasted way to stop feeling like life wasn’t worth living every time your sparked more than once or twice in a row.

Hyr clearly didn’t know this, simply nodding and agreeing before pulling her forward, following another trail along the path of the aether.