Page 140 of Remnants: Disruption
Each wall in each photo is lined with maps of New Chicago, the Citadel, and one that looks suspiciously like the Western Alliance. And the tables pictured are littered with tech that Bast and her people were developing.
Except, again, they look modified to fit whoever the occupant is.
“I know,” I say, handing the phone back. “It is Gareth and Varun’s people.”
Arya’s hazy, sublime expression cracks as she frowns at me.
“You know?” she asks, sounding a little bit exasperated. “You know traitors were just elected to our Council and you’re cool with that?”
I circle the desk in the center of the room and sit, gesturing for Arya to do the same. She glares at me before moving to the chair across from me but continues to stand.
“Not ‘cool’ with it, but—” I hum out a little. “What is that saying?”
“Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer,” she grits, definitely upset now. “Cass, I—”
I raise my hand and again gesture for her to sit. “Let me explain.”
She ignores the offered chair, continuing to stare daggers at me.
So much for the post-coitus haze.
“Gareth’s ego blinds him, but heisdangerous. The same goes for Varun. Neither of them are the ringleaders, though. And eliminating them will only spur on talk of revolution. As it is, we are fighting a two-front war. One is against Darkrend, DAEMON, and whoever else has yet to show themselves. The other is against my—our people.”
Arya runs her hands through her long, gorgeous hair and presses her palms to her eyes.
Then she lets out a scream.
“I amsickof the politics, Cass,” she heaves out what could be a manic laugh, but I don’t stop her this time. “I get it, I do. I get the fact that this is a large monster. There are snakes in every crevice. I get it.”
She sweeps a hand around at me and the somewhat lavish office.
“But I amthisclose to going out there and tearing apart every asshole who looks at me the wrong way.” She pinches her index and thumb together. “There are regular people here, Cass. Marla, Trish, and everyone else like them are relying onmeto look out for them because they’re worried the Council won’t.”
Her breaths come out as pants. Like she might just literally phase through the floor and make good on her threat.
And she would be successful too.
“That is not your responsibility, my—” I pause and reel back the term I was about to use. “My dear.”
“Yes, it is,” she growls, voice deepening a bit. “You have your job to do here. You are their fearless, unflappable leader. You are their goddess in every sense of the word. But they—”
She lets out a huff, and her gunmetal grey eyes shine with tears.
“What?” I ask, my own voice quiet, like it may break whatever fresh honesty is between us now.
Her throat bobs, but she lets out a slow breath.
“I just keep thinking about the little drawings on their fridge. The ones their three-year-old drew,” Arya’s voice cracks, and she finally slides into the chair. “And I’ve met some of Rey’s friends, and they’re all like her. They’re so full of life and love and—”
Her head drops into her hands, and I nearly tip my chair as I hurry to her side, dropping to my knees.
“Arya?” I whisper, and she laughs out, raising her face to mine.
Her eyes are red rimmed; tears trace her cheeks.
“I’ve never had a family, Cass,” she breathes out. “And since getting here, all I know is that I can’t lose the one I’ve found.”
My thumb brushes at her soft cheek, and she leans into my palm—the intimate act nearly stunning me into silence.
