“You cannot just keep him indefinitely.”
The fact that this even had to be said was— Well, it wasn’t exactly surprising; Loren knew just as well as anyone how firmly Emilia had planted herself into virtually all of the clones’ hearts. He counted his own heart one of the most filled by her, his mind falling back to the memory of that sweet little child staring up at him from where she had buried herself between his three wards.
“I’m Emilia!”
she had cheered, bright smile plastered over her too small body; Loren had already heard the details of the investigation into the home she and her siblings had been living in. The fact that the laws hadn’t allowed The Black Knot to take revenge on those adults for their treatment of the children in their care hadn’t stopped a few of them from hunting them down later, after they too had been infected by love for the sweet child who could somehow tell each of them apart, something even they themselves often couldn’t do.
From that first moment, each of his wards introducing themselves—Taelor had needed to introduce Valor, quiet as the boy was even then—before Loren introduced himself, Emilia had never once gotten their identities wrong. It had become something of a game before her disappearance, various clones trying to see if they could take on the personality and appearance of another clone so thoroughly they could fool her. They never could. Loren wasn’t even sure Emilia could explain exactly how she could tell them apart, but she could, and that had just dragged them into her orbit all the more firmly; to Emilia, they were never just
the Hyrat clones
, but individuals unto themselves, all diverse and unique.
Even back then, when the triplets had only been six, he had seen how easily she fit into their little hearts, and of all the clones, Loren was aware that his wards loved Emilia the most, perhaps from that very first meeting.
There had been Valor, whose eyes so often watched the world at the expense of the things directly surrounding him, looking at this silverstrain girl like she had somehow reformed his world through her simple existence within it. Valor, who could barely work up the courage to talk to the little girl who had somehow attached herself to their group and walked with them for nearly three blocks before Loren noticed and had to message her new—and very panicky—parents to let them know he had accidentally kidnapped her. Valor, who despite his nerves had silently slipped his hand into Emilia’s as she so easily walked arm-in-arm with Baylor because Baylor had never known a moment of nervousness in his entire life.
Baylor had been so clearly enamoured with Emilia that Loren had been worried the boy wouldn’t even let the girl return home—and in the end, it had been Emilia talking the boy out of what Loren often thought of as his first planned murder of, well, her parents and anyone else who dared try to keep them apart. Loren had seen the signs that the boy was a
broken clone
before that, but that moment before Emilia had stepped in between Baylor and himself, her smile dragging the little boy’s attention to her like she was his everything, whatever murderous animosity Baylor felt slithering away, had been the moment he knew he was right; if Baylor were left without an anchor, he would surround himself in blood and gore and delight in it.
“We’ll see each other again, yeah? Miles— Ah… I think I’m supposed to say dad? Or, is father better? That seems too formal, but…”
“Daddy?”
Baylor had suggested, some strange energy racketing through his voice that had, rather unfortunately, left Loren wondering, decades later, if he sometimes called Taelor that. The triplets’ odd relationship certainly led to Taelor feeling like the father figure of his brothers—his friends, his podmates, his… Well, Loren wasn’t going to go
there
, but he had seen enough to suspect his boys
were
going there.
Even back then, Taelor had felt the protector of his younger siblings, and that protective energy had almost immediately wrapped itself around Emilia as the boy watched Baylor and Valor fall in love with her. For a long time, Loren had wondered whether Taelor was simply protecting something important to his own most important people, but no. There had come a moment, years later, when Loren had realized that Emilia was important to Taelor in a way completely separate from his siblings and the love they share. His love and adoration for Emilia was specific and moulded to her alone. Yes, Loren thought Emilia really only fit in with them as a unit, but that didn’t mean his wards didn’t occasionally disagree about how to treat her, how to manage her expectations, disappearance, the way that piece of shit captain had treated her.
Decades on, Loren was happy he hadn’t been forced to choose sides, had Baylor not been talked out of his plan to kill anyone who dared venerate Daniel after the harm he had inflicted upon Emilia came to light for a handful of them. That didn’t mean his stomach didn’t turn any time he was subjected to such talk, and he—like near everyone, Emilia herself included—didn’t remember more than the barest of details of Emilia’s abuse at Daniel’s hands. Some of the emotional abuse they remembered, the vague lines of bruises over her skin, fragments of clips from her memories, swiped up in the aftermath of Alliance Ridge when no one had been sure what was wrong or how to help her.
They had figured out what was wrong, desperately sought a way to help her; in the process they’d found the abuse that she hadn’t known how to bring up without risking Division 30 falling apart and taking the future of the continent with it. Emilia had always been too self-sacrificing, too desperate for whatever scrapes of love she could get. The fact that she had been willing to accept that love when it came with fists smashing into her…
Really, Loren thought he should have pushed harder for his wards to take less undercover-heavy positions with The Black Knot when they first began working, so they could have had something more permanent with her long before the war began. Perhaps then things would have turned out differently—then again, these days Varo was always saying things like, “*We shouldn’t wish to change the past, as the present isn’t the worst that could have befallen us by far.’”*Loren understood that sort of mentality—one little shift in the past, and perhaps their present peace wouldn’t have existed at all. Still, it could have been better, and if they didn’t look to the past to search for moments where they could have done better, how were they to do better in the future?
It was for that reason that Loren couldn’t let his naughty wards just keep Elijah Richmond hostage in their interrogation room.
“Do you remember when you were in your late 30s? Before the war started?”
“That was a long time ago. Refresh our memories,” Baylor said from his seat between his brothers, Taelor’s hand clasped over Baylor’s shifting thigh like that alone might have been keeping Baylor from bolting up and going off to dissect Emilia’s ex. Unfortunately, it might have been.
“Do you remember when you happened across Emilia and Halen meeting up? He was coming back from the bathroom, and you intercepted him and brought him back here to demand why he was
still harassing Emmie after nearly a decade apart.
”
Internally, Loren cringed at his own words and the memory. While his wards’ memories of Halen and Emilia’s relationship had been altered like so many other peoples’, his own were more whole. It meant he couldn’t raid without having the memories locked away temporarily, lest the raid system and Hail—because none of them were stupid enough to think Hail and its trashy CEO weren’t going through many of their memories, looking for secrets they had no right to—figure out the reality of
that
situation. Using Emilia and Halen’s complicated relationship like this—bending the truth to claim they were
meeting up
when he knew full well it had been a date his wards stole Halen away from, one piece in the puzzle of their relationship’s disastrous ending—left his stomach swirling, but it was for everyone’s own good: Emilia had refused to speak to the triplets for several months following their kidnapping of Halen; the last thing any of them wanted was for their kidnapping of Elijah Richmond to turn them into the only people Emilia might refuse to speak with as she returned to their life.
Baylor did not like when he pointed this out, Taelor’s hand clenching so firmly into his thigh that Loren imagined there would be bruises there later. Valor even shifted his weight, pressing more firmly into Baylor’s side, despite his eyes continuing to gaze vacantly in the general direction of the window—was he even looking out the window? Or was he just staring at the wall to the right of it?
“But he’s an asshole, and he
still
seems to think his shitbag roommate should be released despite trying to nullify someone!”
“There are plenty of people who support criminals with their words and opinions, Baylor,” Loren pointed out, not that he thought it would help—Baylor was just too pissed. Way too pissed, actually, and Loren had to wonder why. Was this just anger at Emilia? Baylor had by far been the most angry of all Emilia’s friends over her disappearance, and although he didn’t share the same animosity Axelle now did, when Emilia and Baylor finally met back up, Loren didn’t doubt there would be yelling, and probably hate fucking.
He should probably ask Emilia for a heads-up of when she planned to see them again, so he could be far away.
Regardless, this didn’t feel like anger for Emilia redirected at her ex. Perhaps
some
of Baylor’s hatred for the man was, but not all…
“Punishing her ex won’t bring her back sooner,” Loren hedged, seeing in the way Baylor’s fidgeting ceased for the barest moment that he had hit his target. “Whether she supports it, and you hope she’ll show up to thank you for torturing the kid—”
“We have not been torturing him,” Baylor grumbled, losing some of his excess energy and collapsing back into the couch, looking all the child he still was inside with his crossed arms and petulant pout.
Loren pushed down the urge to argue that what Baylor had been doing to Elijah Richmond could definitely be construed as torture—the kid was going to need therapy after only a few hours in the room with his wards, and he was most certainly going to have bruises over his jaw and wrists. Instead, he continued on that if Emilia didn’t support what they were doing, she probably didn’t care enough about her ex to show up to yell at them either.
“More likely, she will send Rafe or Malcolm—”
“Malcolm?” Valor asked, suddenly turned their way, and whoops.
Loren hadn’t meant to tell his boys that Emilia had contacted Malcolm—even if he hadn’t explicitly told them, the implication was there; why else would he say Malcolm unless she had already contacted him? It wasn’t exactly a secret—and the exact reasons Emilia had stopped in to see him would be shared amongst many of the clones soon anyways—but he hadn’t meant to tell his wards when they were so… volatile.
Yeah, he definitely couldn’t let them back in the room with Emilia’s ex. The boy wouldn’t come out—not in one piece, anyways.
“There is a… situation, with Hail,” he told them, hoping to perhaps distract them…
This time, it was Taelor’s turn to speak, his voice harsh as he asked—demanded—all the details.
Perhaps not telling them about Emilia’s visit to Malcolm hadn’t actually been in their best interests, although bringing it up earlier would have erased the potency of its mysterious allure now. Sending off a message to the clones who had been awkwardly—and very tensely—lingering outside the room where Elijah Richmond was now staring into the aether, hands clenched so tightly he was drawing blood, and informing them that they should take the opportunity to get the boy and his remaining roommates back to Astrapan, Loren began to tell them what he knew.
The situation with mind manipulation within the raid wasn’t something completely unheard of, but previous incidents had usually been chalked up to some issue or manipulation on the side of a blackaether raid’s host, or some coding error on Hail’s side. The raid Emilia had been inside of, however, had not only been a legal raid, but one that was eventually revealed to be heavily monitored by a raid designer, monitor, or admin as they tried to fix the raid to be more enjoyable. In other words, considering how obvious the manipulations of several of the heroes’ minds had been, whoever was monitoring the raid should have noticed something was wrong.
They hadn’t ended the raid early, and another iteration of the raid—which several Black Knot agents who raided often had been dispatched into—was already running. While those agents would come back with more information—and it was possible Hail had fixed whatever was happening inside the raid in the hours between them—it all seemed too purposeful.
Purposeful and dangerous.
“What can we do?” Taelor asked, always the leader of their group. Unfortunately, that meant he had also been perfectly okay allowing Baylor to treat Elijah Richmond like that, and that was… concerning.
Yeah, his boys needed to be as far from Emilia’s ex as possible, at least until they had time to chill. Fuck did they need to chill.
“Emilia ran into Hetexia and a number of other northerners in the raid. While they didn’t experience as much of the manipulations, you could go get their perspective on it.” Nur’tha would be far enough, surely?
“Alright,” Taelor said, and Loren
really
didn’t like the look in his eyes. “We shall go and speak with each of them, then. Come on,” he said, tugging his brothers up, Valor once again staring forlorn at the wall—seriously, why the wall?—and Baylor continuing his vigil of glaring at him. Loren wondered what sort of gruesome deaths his sweet, serial-killer-in-all-but-actual-body-count child was imagining for him today.
“Don’t think we don’t know this was a distraction!” Baylor grumbled, glare deepening before muttering that if Emilia’s ex or his roommates caused Emilia—or anyone else—more problems, it was going to be Loren’s fault. With those parting words, his boys vanished, and Loren breathed a sigh of relief.
On to his next task.
Arc X.1 | Chapter 350: Interlude | Project Piketown Infiltration 6
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