Chapter Text
“Heyyy, Scarlettia.”
Scarlettia flinches, but she doesn’t turn around. She recognizes the voice - how could she not?
“Lookin’ pretty good out here,” Spectra continues. “You’ve always looked your best on a battlefield.”
“What’s your game, Spectra?” Scarlettia asks softly, because she knows that her former friend, former sister-in-arms, former… whatever they were, she knows how to tell when Spectra is trying to get a rise out of someone.
“No game,” Spectra lilts, glitching out of space and appearing right beside Scarlettia. “I saw you fighting earlier. You haven’t lost your edge hangin’ out with all the pretty princesses, I’ll say that.”
Scarlettia shakes her head. “They’re not the insipid fools we were taught to think,” she says. “The opposite, really.”
“Sure,” Spectra says doubtfully. “That’s why they gave in to the Horde so quick.”
“They didn’t do anything,” Scarlettia retorts. “Most of them weren’t even born when the Horde took over. I can’t speak to their parents, or their parents’ parents… but the people I know are good. They believe they can, they should, make things better.”
“That’s just what the Horde says, too,” Spectra says. “Two sides saying they’re in the right, they’re the ones who know what’s good for everyone. How do you really know who’s right?”
“Because there’s no comparison between the side that wants to see children grow up happy and safe and comfortable and the side that uses children as cannon fodder.”
They’re little - not more than seven or eight - and not for the first time, Spectra’s particular gifts have gotten the better of her during training. Where she ought to have made contact, she phased through someone; where she ought to have been able to glitch out, she stayed solid and got hit. It shouldn’t be such a big deal, she thinks: they’re still learning! They’re not out in combat yet.
But Scarlettia can always do it. Scarlettia can deflect and blast and Agantine thinks she’s even going to be able to fly once she’s got enough practice. Scarlettia is perfect.
Spectra is not perfect.
Spectra is hiding in the library like a coward, because most of the others don’t go in there unless they absolutely have to. The Horde doesn’t value book smarts, most of the time. The smarter you are, the more questions you ask, and they don’t like questions.
That’s another of Spectra’s problems.
Soon, though, Scarlettia slips through the door. “Spectra, I know you’re in here,” she murmurs.
“Go away,” Spectra says, trying to sound braver than she feels.
“No,” Scarlettia says. She pokes her head around the corner of a row of bookshelves, spots Spectra huddled there. It’d be easier to hide if they got to use their powers outside training, then Spectra could just flicker and fade and disappear between walls until she was truly alone, but the inhibitor bracelets locked around their wrists make that impossible.
Scarlettia sits beside Spectra and wraps an arm around her shoulders before Spectra can twitch away. “You’re not bad, you know,” she says plainly.
“I’m a screwup,” Spectra counters sullenly. “I’m never gonna be what they want. ‘Specially not with you around.”
“I didn’t ask for that,” Scarlettia says. “I don’t even like being Agantine’s favorite. I just…”
“You’re strong,” Spectra supplies. “That means you get to be special.”
“I think you’re special too,” Scarlettia insists.
Spectra falters for a moment, but gone is the insecure girl Scarlettia used to know. Instead, her old friend, or sister-in-arms, or… something else entirely is standing there like a proud soldier, someone who believes what she’s been told (and that of itself is unnerving, since she never used to) and would fight to the death for it.
Scarlettia doesn’t think Spectra would kill her, but for the first time she doesn’t know that as a certainty.
“They put us through unspeakable things,” Scarlettia continues, softer now. She figures she’s this far in, and if anyone is going to turn Spectra it’s her. “Nobody, no child, should have to live like that.”
“We made it through okay,” Spectra says.
“How many times a night do you wake up in a cold sweat from a nightmare?” Scarlettia retorts.
Spectra doesn’t say anything.
“My friends and their people aren’t perfect,” Scarlettia says, “but they’re fighting for something good. They’re fighting for equal treatment and generosity and -”
“And you?” Spectra asks.
“Me?”
“What are you fighting for?”
Scarlettia worries her lip. “I’m fighting for love,” she finally says. “We’d protect you, Spectra. We… you deserve better than what you’ve been given.”
“I’m finally the star,” Spectra says, but it’s not as triumphant as it should be. “Without you.”
“Do you want to be, though?” Scarlettia asks before she can stop herself.
“What?”
“Without me.”
Spectra blinks rapidly, but before Scarlettia can say anything more she blinks out of space.