"I-if you want to think about it that way, yes . . ."

Milos was hard pressed to really think of the Dusk Remnant as a topic worth being cheerful about. Emil was just kind of weird, that's all. That was the only explanation for it. Had to be. Truth be told, Milos only knew Emil in passing, but he knew him well enough to know that he was just weird, and had no social tact. That mattered just a little bit less, though, now that Emil asked a much more important question.

"That's . . ."

Milos lowered his head and sulked his shoulders; it was clear that he felt a little bit of shame as he recalled the next unfortunate fact:

". . . what we never figured out."

"Attis figured Galaens by sheer luck. When you're in the real world, you can feel the planet's spirit. I-- I think we all can. I guess . . . Attis was just in Galaens at the time, before he came back with this find. Th-the air felt thick, and it kind of had a taste. I don't know; it was just really really heavy," Milos remembered, only to hang his head slightly, "A-and . . . and we tried to find ways to harvest Qi from the world! We came up with tons of ideas! It's just that . . . none of them actually worked . . ."

"B-but if people stopped looking at the Dusk Remnant and just did that, w-well--" he looked up at last, "well, you know, I'm sure we'd all find a way, somehow."

"I really want to study it more, but the Dusk Remnant seems to be a dead end for the time being," Emil agreed. Until someone figured out how to take it off the Reaper's hands, there was no using it for any intentions, good or bad.

But this new idea had problems too--they had no way to detect Qi over a wide area, and no way to gather it once they did.

For one of those, he did have an idea. "Well...Reapers can sense when Qi is being disrupted. That's why we have to be careful. So...they must have a way to keep track of large areas of Qi."

"If we could ask a Reaper, perhaps we could find out how they do it?"

Milos's jaw hung open slightly following Emil's inquiry.

"Ask . . . a Reaper? N-no way!" exclaimed Milos, "They're have the reason we have to--!"

Then, Milos stopped. It took him only a second to realize it--something that was sitting right before his eyes the whole time. Tears threatened to attack his eyes. They stinged an unholy sting. Milos lifted his hands to cover his lips, suppressing a gasp. Emil's reaction told him instantly that panic was necessary. Emil was missing something--a fact Milos knew all too well, but Emil did not? How? Emil knew most of what they all knew, something Milos felt was common knowledge, Emil should have know-- why didn't he . . .?

Emil couldn't be the only one ignorant to this . . .

". . . you . . . all of you . . . y-you don't know . . . ?"

Milos pulled his hands away from his lips. What the hell was happening here? Emil should have known this! Everyone should have known this! Wasn't it supposed to be common knowledge?! Yet . . . so many of them were allowed to go to Hillcrest, knowing there was a Reaper there! So many of them died. Was it because they didn't know? Was it because they were somehow ignorant to something Milos and Illorex thought was common knowledge? It was so simple a realization, yet it took him this long to see it.

That . . . this . . . there was everything wrong with this! Milos barely felt the will to speak any further, but he did, not for his sake, but for Emil's--

"Reapers are . . . Reapers will kill us on sight," elaborated Milos, his tone dismal, lined like a disparate realization, "Every one of them that's been there . . . is told to . . ."

In another place, in another world . . .

Eldridge Tsukimono was asleep. The day was tough for him. He'd done much which he felt guilty for. Coaxing him to sleep, when he was like that, was one of the hardest things Etsu Hikane ever did in her life. Not breaking down when he was a mess was a horror for her. But she did--she held strong for Eld, for the man she loved, and made sure he'd rest easy tonight. She hadn't the supernatural power to make that happen, but a warm embrace, a soft stroking of her fingers through his hair, and soothing whispers in his ear could go a long way.

But yet, after the fact, she felt no relief. It was all explained to her--and suddenly, everything made sense to her, a kind of sense she regretted.

Hikane sat upon the edge of the bed. She looked to the floor, she looked past the floor-- she looked into nothing. In the dark of the room, she stared with her bangs pulled back. Even the scar upon her eye didn't matter, with the recent revelation, one she took as softly as she could, for his sake. She was still clothed, still in a jacket and jeans-- even wearing her boots still. She was ready to leave if she needed to, but where, she wasn't thinking of.

Her mind was elsewhere, no longer upon Hillcrest or even the resting young man curled under the covers behind her, nor the full moon she might have seen outside of the window. Her mind was in a dangerous place, recounting lectures and lessons learned, obligations and constant missions . . .