[...]

Khalid regained his awareness of self. Not his senses, only his mind awakened.

He didn't panic. Something pulled him out of non-existence, and that force would not stop halfway. Khalid bid his time, patiently awaiting change.

His sight and hearing returned, blurred encodings flowing at the edges of the field of vision. The angle was odd, much wider than usual, and a feeling of detachment accompanied it, like he was viewing a recorded message through his own eyes.

A familiar gaunt face appeared in his view, the cryptek's eyes dull and flickering as usual. The mechanoid was silent, tinkering with Khalid's throat. The metal clicked quietly, nanite oil drops were falling from the ceiling, it was exactly like his last visit to the repair chamber. Another defeat, no, another annoying setback on the way to destroying...

Khalid blinked and hastily pushed the thought away, dismantling it. Destroying the organics was never a goal. He sustained some engram damage, twice in a short timeframe, but it was not enough of a reason to succumb to destroyer madness. Even if the new gravity repulsor platform to fuse in place of his legs would allow him to fly much faster, and the gauss cannon would give so needed range, it was still not enough.

Khalid tried to shake his head, but he couldn't do it, it was as if his mind was floating in vacuum. The intrusive thoughts returned, flashing images of devastation and death. He tried to speak, but the sound came out weak and distorted, and was cut when the cryptek winced to the extent of his faceplate and twisted something.

"I am still connecting your voice modulator, be patient," the cryptek said. "You destroyers are so inconvenient to work on."

Khalid tried to push the leering face away, he tried to back away, but he remained right where he was, in complete weightlessness, the sensory input not of his own.

The cryptek glanced to the side, at one of the many displays. "Am I seeing fear patterns in your emotion core? And they said nothing can scare a praetorian. It's amazing how much can be achieved with a single misplaced word."

Khalid screamed, a scream of unbound rage, and this time the sound went through properly. The cryptek stepped back a little, looking smug.

"I am going to tear your head off with my bare hands," Khalid promised.

"You have no hands, and I am not going to restore the rest of your body. The automatic repair systems deemed further intrusion into your engrams unsafe, and who am I to question their decision?"

The cryptek brought up a wide hololithic screen, and like in a stained emerald mirror Khalid saw how he now looked like – a wire-wrapped spine with misshapen cranium at the top, sensory plate of a spyder connected to where the face should have been. An untapped potential for modification, but Khalid pushed the thought away and finally crushed it.

"I order you to restore my body, exactly as it was before."

"But I am just a redundant addition to the automated repair systems. Who am I to question their decision?" the cryptek repeated cruelly.

Silence fell between them. The hololithic window flickered out, replaced with a series of others, mostly power distribution reports. Likewise, Khalid's anger drained, replaced by hollow bitterness. He could understand a sizable part of the charts, and they showed the auxiliary engine to be online. They were in open space, a useless ship with a stubborn coward at the helm.

"Running away, how pathetic," Khalid said. "Gensokyo natives are surely celebrating right now, laughing at us."

"A possibility like any other. Although I don't find anything pathetic in preserving the ecosystem of a world that offers further unique possibilities for research."

"An excuse of a coward. You are afraid, were always afraid of something you can't understand. You don't have any faith in Necrontyr or yourself."

The cryptek brought up a few more charts. "I am working with probabilities, this is all. The probability of spontaneous overload of the power grid peaked at one to fifty while Sanae was on board. I am to ensure the safety of my lord and I am still to wait forty two thousand-"

He cut himself off and shook his head. "No, the wait is over. Your meddling with the stasis system destabilized it, and for better or worse, I am forced to reactivate the inertialess drive and return to dock. It will take twenty to fifty cycles, depending on the types of asteroids we process. I will keep you informed."

The cryptek gestured, dismissing the report windows. The light in the chamber dimmed, every sliver of excess energy relocated where needed. He lingered for a moment, then turned awkwardly and headed towards the exit.

"So, is this it? Is this the whole extent of your revenge? Leaving me immobilized in a small room for a few cycles, oil dripping on my exposed spine? It will not drive me insane, it is a minor inconvenience."

The cryptek stopped. "You are an arrogant fool, unworthy of your station, a disgrace to the Triarch. It is a fitting punishment for someone like you. Isolation, humiliation, and knowledge of your failure. The deathmarks failed, praetorian."

"Is this supposed to upset me?" Khalid asked with a chuckle. "Am I supposed to care about her? It was never about Sanae, it was about you and me, and face it, a million cycles may pass and you still wouldn't do a millionth fraction of what I have already done for Necrontyr."

"This conversation is over."

"Now, really?" Khalid laughed. "This is the extent of your argument? I made mistakes, overreached and lost a part of myself, but I don't regret a single moment. Because it is better to be even a destroyer than to be you, a loyal, unquestioning slave."

The cryptek's eyes flared up, he jerked his staff up and pointed at Khalid's head, energy gathering at the tip. "Worthless, decaying wretch, I will-"

He stopped and looked down, his eyes losing the intensity, returning to flickering. "I congratulate you on your successful mission, praetorian," he said dully.

He lowered the weapon and shuffled away, leaning heavily on the staff, shuddering like from a crack of a whip when Khalid started laughing again.

[...]

Sanae woke up. She didn't dream, but the inky blackness left a feeling of unease with her. It was accompanied by the sensation of feverish cold, and Sanae shivered, crawling out of the bed and waving her arms to shake the feeling off and get blood flowing.

She was at the Hakurei Shrine, the smell and look of the place were unmistakable. Even if trademark red-white charms were not scattered around the room she'd still recognize it. At least Reimu had the courtesy to not strip her naked.

The details of her alien encounter blurred and faded. In retrospect, it all seemed rather shameful. She shouldn't have ran, she shouldn't have been afraid that the ship would drain and devour her. She shouldn't have judged the soulless creatures that harshly. She should have dodged that shot.

Sanae found her shoes, visited the bathroom and silently headed for the exit. The bathroom mirror reaffirmed her of how miserable and pale she looked, a streak of her hair discolored by one of the oil drops, and she was in no mood to hear Reimu's self-righteous and condescending gloating, veiled to look like helpful advice.

"Hey, Sanae. How do you feel?"

Sanae stopped and sighed. Of course Reimu would monitor the exit.

"Never better, best day of my life," Sanae said dryly.

"Lies. It can't be the best day of your life until you have some of my tea."

The door to the kitchen was open, and Sanae made her way to it. She could refuse, walk away, but it would only postpone the talk. Reimu would have her way, she always did.

She sat at the table, and Reimu made herself busy with tea preparations. The kitchen didn't look any cleaner, and Sanae forced herself to stop concentrating on all the grease stains. They brought up unpleasant memories.

The tea was served, and for a while, they sat in silence. Sanae was thirsty, but she also felt a little nauseous, and Reimu was uncharacteristically awake and examining, or rather staring at Sanae's face. After awhile, it became annoying.

"What?" Sanae asked.

"Nothing. Serious question though, how do you feel? Pain, numbness anywhere? The hollow feeling of the cold embrace of death?"

"How funny."

"It wasn't funny when you fell over and stopped breathing, so I'm asking."

Sanae gave Reimu a disapproving look. "Would you knock it off? I couldn't die, the alien rifle had no bullets in it. If I feel anything right now, it's disappointment, in aliens and myself."

"Hmm..." Reimu tapped her chin. "Well, I am not going to doubt your miraculous resurrection. You look mostly fine, so you're probably mostly fine."

"Reimu, get this over with," Sanae said impatiently. "Scold me, tell me of how brilliantly you've solved the incident and I'll leave, to receive similar enlightening lectures from Keine and Kanako. A lesson is learned, and everything is all right with the world."

Reimu cleared her throat. "Right. So... no, wait, I have to be standing for this."

Reimu pushed her chair back, stood up and pointed between Sanae's eyes. "Sanae Kochiya, you are hereby judged by the will of Hakurei. For solving the incident improperly and without permission, you are to be punished, exiled from Gensokyo forever. Would you like to say your last goodbyes to your gods?"

Sanae blinked. "W-what?"

"I said, would you like a refill? Your tea is getting cold," Reimu said nonchalantly, still pointing. Sanae blinked again, then frowned.

"Not funny again, and stop it with the dumb jokes. You are a priestess, for gods' sake, act like one!"

"See, this is your problem," Reimu said, and went to get the teapot. "Warped expectations. You expect the world to be a certain way, and when it doesn't fit you start shaping it with miracles, with skill and grace of a three-legged goat."

"I am not like that."

Reimu returned and started pouring tea. "Yes, you are. Stop living in denial and accept the fact that you are nothing but a worthless insect before the might of our new iron masters."

Sanae froze in place. What was happening?

"You are joking again, right?"

"Yep," Reimu said, set down the teapot, and her face broke into a wide grin. "Lighten up, will you?"

"Gah! Why can't I read you, your face is like of... those things! You are like those things, sleeping all the time, not concerned about anything, and cruel! Don't forget cruel!"

"Why thank you, what a great comparison. Should I say that you and that Khalid creature are a great match? It's a good thing they left, the wedding would be so awkward."

"Shut up! Don't you dare-" Sanae stumbled mid-sentence. "Wait, they left?"

"Yes, flew off, and I had nothing to do with that. I say good riddance, those iron youkai were spiritually disgusting."

Sanae didn't find anything to say. So this was it? This was the resolution? Not destruction, not acceptance of the alien culture, but this?

"And this means that the incident, for what it is, is all yours," Reimu said. "Its start, its solution and its consequences. You didn't forget the consequences, right?"

Sanae looked down at her cup. In the end, all she could boast was that nobody got seriously injured or killed among the villagers. Hardly a victory to be proud of, hardly anything to compare to Reimu's achievements.

"The dragon statue," Sanae said sourly.

"Yes, the dragon statue. Fill up your faith gourd, or however you do it, and get to repairs. I want to see it fixed by the end of next week."

"But..."

"Yes, I know it will take months, but start next week anyway. Early bird gets the worm and all that. You may consider this saying today's overarching moral lesson if you wish."

Reimu refilled her own cup, and the kitchen went silent. Sanae's nausea subsided halfway through their talk, and she overall felt a little better. She downed her tea and stood up.

"Thanks for the welcome, but I should get going and tell everyone I'm alright."

"Don't be a stranger... well, I'd really like it if you acted more like a stranger, announcing your visits and donating, but you get the idea."

"I suppose I do," Sanae said dully. "See you later."

"Goodbye! Tell the villagers that the Hakurei Shrine always appreciates donations!"

Sanae walked out on the porch. The sun was setting, and it meant that she spent the whole day out cold. Or was it the next day already? In any case, Sanae didn't want to return and check the calendar.

She looked to the side. Yes, the branch shrine still looked infinitely better than the Hakurei building, but it was of little comfort. Reimu simply didn't care about shrine competition, and was not likely to change her attitude anytime soon, or ever.

Sanae sighed and looked up. Was it really that bad it all ended like it did? The villagers would not know of her struggles and doubts. They would see a living goddess, a victor over Keine, a statue restorer, an incident solver. She would walk proudly through the streets, a smile on her face, and no one would suspect a thing.

And Reimu, with all her power and skill, she would sleep her life away at her crumbling shrine, begging for donations, only youkai to keep her company. Like necrons she would sleep, and like for necrons, the only feeling for her would be pity.

Sanae smiled, dug a few coins from her pocket, and dropped them in the donation box.

[END]