Changeling

(114): A bit Cross.

The troop transport touched down on the bridge of CVN-79 with the airborne grace of a dead chicken. Cross adjusted her borrowed uniform with no small measure of annoyance. She’d signed the damn contract with Vanquisher, not with the government. There was, perhaps, also the question of stolen valor. Her grandfather had served in the rangers. Wearing a uniform she hadn’t earned felt wrong on a visceral level, ‘incognito’ or not. Discomfort upon discomfort piled on her souring mood. Vanquisher ought to be fighting in portals right now, not... whatever it was they’d been called to do.

She still stood up as soon as the green light was given. The suited man welcoming her down the ramp showed much more enthusiasm than she felt, and the weirdest thing was that it looked genuine. A light rain drizzled over Delaware despite the hot season. Her acute perception took in the sights and smells. Insults fused far in the distance but otherwise, the city felt as peaceful as ever unlike the ‘battlefield’ painted in some of the more frustrating media. Those that also called her ‘one of the good ones’ from the color of her skin.

“Good morning, Cross. My name’s Smith. Welcome to Philly!” the suit greeted with concerning positivity.

He sounded like a true fan. He was, she realized, quite young. Maybe he really was. She wasn’t sure what was worse.

“Good to be back.”

She gave him her ‘public persona’ smile she’d worked hard on. It looked pleasant on camera. She then had to wait for his unawakened brain to catch on. Slowing her mind all the time felt like such a waste of energy, but her leader Cyrrhus always said they had to remember where they came from, who they were fighting for, and she agreed. Besides, taking one’s time could be good too.

“Oh, right. Hmm, please come with me. I’ll brief you on the latest development, then we could meet the rest of the team?”

“Sure thing.”

Please please let this be quick.

“Alright, so the target, that is, Crescent, she posted earlier that she would take today off, but tomorrow she would ‘strike at the heart of the city’. Our awakened intelligence team determined she would probably go to a famous restaurant given her proclivities. We are already setting up perimeters, and drones.”“I got the impression she could mess with machines, somehow? The report you already gave me seemed to indicate it.”

The suit, Smith, nodded.

“Yes, however hers is a PR war and she needs to be filmed for it to work. We expect she will try to remain visible and detectable while at or near the AO. It doesn’t help that so far no one has managed to penetrate her. I mean, get through her skin. Wound her. Sorry.”

“Okay. So you want me to lay in wait?”

“Well that’s the thing. We have teams ready to slow her down, or at least maintain contact while we make sure which venue she will terrorize this time. The idea was to have you intervene as soon as she’s detected. But we can’t reveal you too early or she’ll go to ground.”

“That makes sense.”

“I’ll let the Op chief tell you more.”

The two plus escort walked off the carrier using a surprisingly large bridge, then walked across an open space towards a non-descript building that looked vaguely like an office. She paused when she came across a trio of frustrated raiders smoking cigarettes by the side. Their matching black and white gear didn’t show any insignia, but she was familiar with the armor pattern.

“What are Thresholders doing here?” she asked.

“Oh, this is the Chaser guild! Well...”

“Ex-chasers since Threshold disbanded us,” the lead man answered.

He sounded bitter. Cross didn’t really trust bitter people. They made strange decisions. As if sensing her disapproval, the man approached. He looked young for a B-class, barely above 30. Sabers of good make rested on his back.

“When we found out we had an alien infiltrator in and that there was a bounty on ‘her’, we decided to give chase.”

“It wasn’t about the money,” the woman of the group said. “But for this amount we knew we could escape and build our lives somewhere else. It was a unanimous decision.”

Cross wondered how much motivation eight million Threshold credits offered. It would still take a decade for elite raiders such as them to accumulate that much cash unless they took risks and raided often... or got insanely lucky. In the meantime, the man kept talking.

“Threshold was built by Earth’s defenders to keep the lizardmen contained. But it seems our current authorities decided that freshly unmasked alien infiltrators were as valuable as people. They’re not. Mayor Kim and that old cow are making full use of their newest toy, wilfully ignoring that she’s not one of us and never will be. They forgot what it was Riel and the founders fought for: mankind as the center of all our efforts. We’re here to help you correct that. Even if it means our home calls us traitors.”

Cross remembered the file. There was no way the Palladian alien could do everything she did unless she had local support. Thresholders were now helping Cross take down a Thresholder who was receiving Philadelphian help. What a world.

“Whatever you say, sugar,” she replied, perhaps a little dryly. “I guess I’m counting on you to flush her out.”

The lead man nodded, expression guarded. Smith then led her inside after a few more words to lubricate what had been a rather frictious interaction. Cross sighed.

At least this would only last two days.

***

Ragnarok called at exactly 11 AM to the second. Nestra didn’t have the time to say hello before the old Swedish coach was already instructing her.

“Negotiations have stalled. Kim just gave us the green light for Operation Coil. Everyone is in position, but I still have to ask, Nestra, are you sure?”

“Thanks for giving me a choice, but you know I’m committed.”

There was an uncharacteristic pause while Ragnarok thought things through. It was weird enough that Nestra realized the old woman perhaps even cared for her, not as an agent and potential counter to a rogue Shinran but as a person.

“We have visual confirmation that Cross landed at the Navy Yard. She’s in the city. If you die... “

“I won’t. They want me alive. We both know that.”

Nestra stopped there because it was half a lie, and they both knew it. Her work last week had been dedicated to making sure the hostilities stayed on the less lethal end of the spectrum. There had been no egregious crime (except for line cutting), no significant damage done, and no human damage except for bruises, and bruised egos. In theory, Washington would lose a ton of goodwill killing the quirky alien, and gain a lot more capturing Nestra. Between basic experiments (Nestra didn’t expect them to vivisect her but maybe they’d get X-ray and blood samples) and using her as a bargaining chip, it was their interest to catch her. The presence of Cross made that possible, even guaranteed it given her abilities.

But shit could still happen. Rebirth might take advantage. There was a margin of error. Nestra might die within the borders of that margin.

Nevertheless.

“We all take risks,” Nestra said. “I’ve taken worse odds. This is for Threshold. We need to kill this conflict before my coven shows up.”

“Be very sure to stay alive, Palladian, that is all I’m asking.”

“I promise to do my best. Oh, there was something else. I need, uh, a replacement for the cannon.”

Nestra could hear breathing in the line so obviously Ragnarok was still there.

“Sadly lost the previous one escaping last time.”

“Nestra, are you aware your little stunts cost the Threshold taxpayers 300,000 credits every time?”

“Tut tut this is mothballed equipment kept in reserve in case something happens. It cost the taxpayer that much when it was purchased forty years ago, has long since been amortized, and the value cannot be reclaimed anyway. You can’t pay teachers in stored military equipment, Rag, so saying my military approved operation is ‘costing’ 300 grand is financially incorrect. And by the way, didn’t you just ask me to return alive? Don’t you think you should give me what I ask for in order for me to carry out my mission?”

The breathing intensified.

“Since when are you so smart?” Ragnarok gently complained.

“I’m always smart when it suits my purposes. Gimme.”

“I’ll have it prepared for when you return. So return. If you genuinely get captured I’ll rescind the authorization.”

“T... tyranny!”

But Rag had hung up.

Nestra turned back to the pair of baselines helping her. A pang of guilt squeezed her chest.

“I was mostly a nuisance until now. Things are going to get really serious really fast. You should definitely consider —”

“So long as Rebirth’s influence continues to pervade politics, I have a job to do,” Jones replied, brooking no argument.

Leah nodded as well, as Nestra expected since the two had been sneaking to their bedroom when they thought she wouldn’t notice.

“Ok. Then... let’s finish this with a bang.”

***

“Aaaand the lights have just... gone off here at the Lincoln Financial? Victor, are we expecting a surprise half-time show?”

“Nothing scheduled, that’s for sure Cassius, but Eagle fans could sure use a little distraction after this disastrous first quarter and oh, looks like we’re going to get a show after all. The stadium lights are back and is that...”

“I think that’s Crescent, Victor.”

“Not her, I mean that horrible music.”

“I believe that would be the ‘Threshold Shuffle’, the epitome of last decade’s neotrash genre and voted in the top 20 worst songs in history by the Times back in 61.”

“It’s atrocious.”

“That it is, Victor, that it certainly is. I believe young folks send disguised URLs of the 1 hour version to people they disagree with.”

“A vile treatment. Back in my days we would just send the SWAT instead. We’ve gone a long way down as a society. Ah, the stadium is responding appropriately. The boos almost cover the music. Why, I believe I’ve never seen two teams united in complete agreement before. Oh, Crescent appears to have abandoned the stage. She’s rushing across the field with a borrowed ball. No, it appears that both teams are piling up though she’s still standing. The referee is rushing forward! Will we see a touchdown?”

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

“Nevermind she’s leaving! Thankfully.”

“Silhouettes flying overhead... the cavalry is here to save us from that music. At least, she didn’t interrupt the game itself.”

“Speaking of! Let’s return to some more football.”

***

Nestra sprinted through the entrance of the FDR park and its relative safety, for the bystanders at least. It was fully night by now. Getting out of the massive stadium had granted her a few seconds of respite from what was looking to be a measured response, but the net was closing. Nestra had picked a spot near the Navy Yard just to be sure and it looked like it was going to work. A large team of powerful raiders formed a lazy arc around her, corralling her with fast gleams on the edges. She noted that several formations composed them. They didn’t cooperate well which would make them less effective but that was just like saying that a kaiju had a slight cold. Nestra still couldn’t hope to defeat them alone.

She reached a small pond. Three figures in black and white armor stood around a pale gazebo on the side. They wore black and white Touhei light pattern armor — rather pricey but a little outdated. The lead figure walked down towards her when it was clear she had stopped. B-class raiders formed a double ring around them, covering all exits. She couldn’t feel any utility tunnels immediately under her. She was cornered.

Now the flaw of her plan appeared in all its obvious stupidity. What was she to do if Cross didn’t show up? If B-class proved enough to stop her, Vanquisher’s wild card would have no reason to intervene... but if she had moved right away, Nestra wouldn’t have gone far which would have made the plan more dangerous. Her best option right now was to force Cross’ appearance, but how?

“You finally come out to play,” the lead Threshold raider said.

His gauntleted hands gripped twin sabers with fury. Green-tinged rock climbed on his greaves: a standard coating defense against electricity gleams.

“There is much we intend to repay,” he continued.

Nestra froze for a second.

“Who the fuck are you?” she asked.

It was the lead raider’s turn to almost stumble. His fists closed with a metal ding and a lot of anger.

“You... are almost as aggravating as your brother!”

Sereth? But those guys couldn’t possibly know about him since they were alive. What did they mean about her brother? Oh wait. She had another brother.

“Oh... Ooooh! You mean Ulysses. Ah I see, I think you were there when I escaped, right? Tried to prevent me from leaving? How’s the foot?”

He gave her the finger. She was wasting time.

“We were told to offer you a chance to surrender,” the lead raider said, making it very clear he hoped she’d refuse.

“And I was told not to kill any American citizen at any cost. Have you guys been naturalized?”

Both sides fell quiet for a moment. Then Nestra drew Nettle. The black tendril absorbed all the meager light of a distant lamp post. The trees stilled as a light summer wind stopped blowing. The city itself fell silent.

“Guess not.”

The lead charged her, sabers drawn and rock coating his body. A fog emerged from the two backliners at the same moment. She remembered it: a rare steam spell that required very high coordination. She formed a bubble of dark water around herself and pushed through. The fog colored the dying grass a vivid green. With a quick spell, she shaped the dark water around her.

The saber leader cut through the shape with a decapitating blow.

“Wha —”

Nestra was on him in an instant. He was forced to backpedal with quick parries. Even then, tendrils from her collapsing construct snaked around his limbs. She charged it with false electricity. The man screamed.

Too easy.

But not too loud. His coating protected him from the worst of it. A flaming lance pushed her away. A searing line of pain across her left thigh reminded her who she was dealing with. Glass glowed where the beam touched the sandy path. Nestra kicked the beleaguered saber guy and charged the fire gleam instead. Her target swung a spear in a sweeping arc that Nestra easily avoided, but rather than falling back, she lunged instead. Nestra grabbed the spear’s shaft before it could bury itself in her flank. Her sword smashed into the spearwoman’s shoulder, and bounced.

There was ice there, now destroyed. Coating? Yes, from the third ally even now rushing to the rescue. Mace and shield on that one. Nestra’s pierced the woman’s shoulder through the crack in her defense, then she ducked under twin sabers and danced away from a mace blow, air whistling in her ear. Sleet formed under her feet. She gracefully slid on it, landing a shallow cut on the saber wielder’s forearm. The two men parted just as a fire buildup announced the coming of a massive fireball arcing through the air. All the trees around were now torches dancing to decorate the field in hellish radiance. Nestra used momentum to sidestep it at an impossible angle. Her blade found the ice wielder’s flank. Another shallow strike and she was on the backfoot again. Multiple projectiles surged, perfectly coordinated. She couldn’t use momentum immediately again. Nestra aimed two fingers towards the distant firewielder.

The artillery spell detonated every fire spell on the path and reduced the gazebo to corroded splinters. A void explosion ate half a fire wall raised in defense. A sphere of water caught the rest and then the saber guy was sent flying. Nestra immediately charged after, but she backed off when thin fire whips screamed through the air. The nearby pond boiled, then froze.

They’re harder to kill than most B-class heavenlies I fought.

Nestra smiled more.

***

Smith watched the combat. His mental implants allowed him to process what he was seeing, if barely. Like watching racing cars as a kid.

“Sir,” an intern asked, “what tier did you say they were?”

“For Threshold citizens, we would consider them a middling tier 2,” he replied.

There was a pause while the nature gleam turned into a giant golem, and then was shattered half a second later. The battle was going west along the ‘lake’, burning and destroying everything in its path with the other teams keeping a distance to cordon off the area. A nearby boathouse went off like a candle.

“Jesus.”

The girl was winning. By their standards that would make her a tier 1 raider, but she had been B-class for all of seven months. Insane. No wonder Rebirth wanted her alive. They claimed they had the facility.

Smith hoped no one would die this night.

***

“Rebirth found out you can’t go through infused material, by the way,” Saber mocked. “They’ve got a special spot for you. And a containment coffin.”

“Still have to catch me first,” Nestra replied.

A water tentacle drenched another fire spell. The fog that rose was undirected this time and Nestra used it to stab the saber wielder in the foot while he blocked high. Normally a difficult hit.

“Gah!”

“Working for Rebirth? You guys are so limp.”

“Stop talking like that! You’re 25!”

Rude.

Nestra checked the skies. Still no signs of Cross despite wounds accumulating on those twats. Right. Cross was probably under order to hold off until she was really needed but she was also famous for helping people in need. Vanquisher had a good reputation for a reason. Besides the Mangler, they were good people. Good people were sometimes predictable.

She walked on the lake.

***

Jin followed the alien, focusing mana on his soles so he wouldn’t sink. It was hard, harder than for Trey who could just ask the water or Shin-Yu who would simply fly over it. Trey had the advantage here. What was she thinking? Waves gathered at his call. Not all of them.

“Careful she has a water-adjacent —”

“I know,” Trey interrupted, voice strained.

Jin ignored his wounds to charge forward. Above. Shin-Yu peppered the girl with magic but the alien effortlessly dodged without looking. Her style reminded him of his mentor which was very distracting. He charged again. She deflected his dance, forcing him back with a precise lunge. The ghost of his mentor’s voice jeered.

“You need to drag me into the dance, boy. It’s gotta be more than a suggestion eh?”

He gritted his teeth. Her style was so steeped with Threshold’s techniques that it felt like sparring with a teacher. That familiarity dulled his anger. She was too much like one of their own, and her accent didn’t help. Neither did the shit talking. It was practically a tradition at this point.

“Gah!”

He missed a sweep. The water was such a mess, with big bubbles floating up in defiance of gravity. Spray everywhere. The light... was going off?

All the light died. He saw a thin gray lip over black needles, and then, nothing.

“Darkness spell!”

“Counter measures,” Shin-Yu calmly stated.

Fiery flares spread through the abyss.

“Uh. Where’s the fucking ground?” Trey asked.

Obviously it was right there, Jin thought with clear annoyance. He could see it, damp and peppered with green growth. The floating water mixed with black just made it hard to get a proper sense of distance.

“No visual,” Shin-Yu said with some worry.

“Alright, group up,” Jin decided.

Shin-Yu approached, but Trey didn’t. A bubble floated between them and they lost sight. There was a scream, barely audible. Trey reappeared bleeding. The crimson of his lifeforce ebbed through a crack in his armor, bubbles ruby and neat before turning black again. Jin realized he was floating. Where was the ground?

Wait.

Where is the damn ground?

Fear screamed at him. It was definitely just a mental effect. His helmet informed him temperatures were plummeting. He said something to Shin-Yu but the world swallowed the sound. How? And then she was there, abyssal eyes glittering with the reflection of Shin-Yu’s fire. A sword. He couldn’t —

The darkness dissipated, replaced with fires and the warmth of a July night. The water was sprayed out. The ground shook. Pressure pushed his shoulders down. The Palladian girl slammed against the ground, then in a flash of lightning, she was gone.

***

Impact. Nestra barely felt it approach, barely got out of the way. The shockwave propelled her and her targets away from the lake in a tide of tepid water. It ripped what was left of the trees. A cloud of soil rose to block out the stars. She felt it in her bones, yet despite it all, she immediately infused herself with electricity for a massive blitz.

Hypervelocity.

Her accelerated body dodged an approaching meteor: metal armor, black hair held in tight cornrows falling under the base of a borrowed military helmet, angry red gauntlets trailing light. Calm brown eyes inspected her through the visor. She engaged despite all her instincts screaming this was doomed. Her sword sliced the air over the visor. Her follow up downward strike was deflected, swatted away. She kicked the approaching form who sidestepped it, then backed away from a return strike. The woman moved into her personal space and she couldn’t be shaken off. Nestra’s nerves screamed from the overload as she tried to keep the spell going. Black bolts coursed her arms, increasingly erratic. Was she... standing still? But no, other B-classes were struggling to follow. Cross was just that fast.

A part of her marveled at the A-class’ speed, her economy of motion with not a single millimeter wasted. Adrenaline flooded her brain with the pleasure of battle. This was dueling. This was a worthy opponent! And Nestra was almost capable of following, here and now, with mana tearing through her muscles. Almost. Then Nestra’s muscles rebelled.

She couldn’t hold it anymore. She screamed. The resulting explosion cooked the land and every cracked park barrier in a ten meter radius. The woman punched a hole through that effect. A quick jab. Nestra’s mind blanked.

You can punch magic?

The shape was in front of her.

Nestra was lifted from the stomach up. Every last molecule of dioxygen left her lungs at the exact same time, pushed by her gut and pure inertia. She exhaled a ‘guh’ of surprise, not yet pain she hadn’t had the time to feel that yet. She’d dropped her sword. That was bad.

The short flight turned into a fall, and by then the pain radiated from her solar plexus was all she could think of. Nestra tasted bile. A supreme effort of will produced enough water mana to slow her tumble into a proper fall but she couldn’t, for the life of her, force her core to contract. It was just pain there.

She landed on her knees. Couldn’t breathe. Good thing she didn’t have to, but still, would be nice to be able to stand.

Cross casually walked next to Nestra. She crouched so they were almost level. Cross wasn’t a tall woman. The contrast between the broken Aszhii and the tiny if muscular woman would be comical if Nestra’s torso wasn’t bruised several shades of gray.

“I wonder what you’re planning,” Cross said as if they were having tea.

With the rare lamps broken, it would have been dark but lights from half a dozen drones had turned the ravaged land into a pale background. The many security teams in the distance definitely wanted to go in, as did the raiders, but a gesture from Cross stopped them. Hierarchy or not, when a focused A-class gave you an order, you listened.

Nestra had been a fool thinking she could even stand toe-to-toe with one, but for her defense, it had been amazing right until she got punched in the gut. Cross was a skirmisher, one of the few positions to be constantly solo even when fighting around a team. She was one of the best duelists on the planet. Nestra had obviously never stood a chance. A part of that made her happy, actually. There was so much to admire in humanity if one could get past all the ghastly bullshit.

“You clearly led me here in a spot where you obviously couldn’t fight us, and that is after a full week of using buildings and civilians for cover. So something must have changed. What will it be? A bomb? A last minute power-up?”

“You watch too many cartoons,” Nestra gasped through the pain.

“I don’t believe you’d let those fools put a collar on you.”

Cross looked up towards a group with no identification marks. They had a sort of sealed coffin and enchanted restraints ready. The lack of any mark was a dead tell that someone had been bought, and Rebirth would get its samples after all. It didn’t really surprise Nestra. Cross’ obvious disgust warmed her heart. The vanquisher didn’t hide her disapproval. In fact, she was shielding Nestra at the moment.

“Considering letting me go?” Nestra managed to say despite the pain.

“Nah. Either you have a plan, or you’re a complete idiot.”

“I do have a plan,” Nestra admitted. “But before, it’s my first time really fighting against an A-class. You guys are amazing. I can’t wait to get strong enough to face you.”

“You’ll need some time and practice, Clytemnestra Palladian.”

“Nestra, please.”

“We’re running out of time, Nestra.”

“Yeah.”

Nestra winced after trying to adjust her position. For some reason she felt like she wanted to pee, which was probably not a great sign. Aszhii regeneration would definitely come clutch here.

“But I still wanted to tell you I admired you, as in, all of you. I... when I left, I met other species and it’s meeting them that made me realize how adaptability and bonding really makes humanity strong, but that’s not what impresses me the most.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. See, what impresses me the most is our —forgive me for including myself — our ability to manage our own flaws: turn anxiety into a drive, turn greed into a motivator, channel hormones through parties, battles, sex, you name it. We’re still stressed out monkeys and it doesn’t always work well or for everyone, but by knowing ourselves, we have managed to bounce back hard and swinging, if you get what I mean. The portals are designed to train us against, well, the other part of me. Invaders. But I think we managed not just to survive but to thrive instead. At least compared to what I’ve seen elsewhere. It’s only a matter of time before the lizardmen tribes are turned into client states.”

“Thanks for the lesson in anthropology, Nestra. Now get to the point before the collar comes down.”

“Not trying to take the piss. Anyway, that’s what the Aszhii in me wanted to tell you. The human side of me just wanna say... you’re right. Thanks for coming, Cross. Couldn’t have done it without you.”

“What?”

“Threshold sends her regards.”

Cross’ patient smile fell off. Nestra could tell from just the eyes. She wasn’t the only one tensing.

“Finally,” a familiar voice said from a distance.

Crushed vegetation parted like a curtain, revealing the hulking form of Vassily. A steel-clad titan walked out from the revealed gap with the ponderous inevitability of dinner with relatives, and behind him came the rest of House Palladian, as well as An Ren and a few Century Guild elites, but that wasn’t what caught everyone’s eye. In his normal form, Shinran was unassuming despite the quickly forming Oni armor. He had such control over his aura that Nestra would have missed him among the riot of other mana sources flashing around her, and yet there was no hiding his coming.

The skies turned red. From night came hell, heavy clouds laden with crimson rage. A confused bird sang in the distance before falling silent.

“You...” Cross whispered. “You brought him here? Are you insane!”

Shinran manifested a heavy staff in his right hand. His expression was grim. Nestra allowed herself a smile.

“Have a good one mate.”

Both A-class disappeared from sight. Something exploded in the distance over the river. Chatter surged from all around, repeating the same message ad nauseam while uncoordinated teams gathered around their respective leaders, unsure on how to proceed. This was Shinran. He was here, and the skies were bleeding. All anti-Shinran weapons were presumably squat in the middle of the Pacific, about as useful as nipples on a gargoyle. The coms were in full blown panic.

“Shinran is here. Yes we confirmed the visual. Yes, dammit!”

Beautiful.

The thresholders didn’t hesitate. They engaged immediately. Still feeling a bit battered, Nestra strode towards the trio of defectors who hadn’t moved from their position over the lake.

“Right,” she drawled. “Where were we?”

A figure walked by her side: tall, with a thin sword and a gauntlet trailing metal wires.

“Sister, it looks like you were trying to go at it alone. Again.”

“What’s that irritating drone I hear?”

“You might want to check those big ears of yours. How long does it take for you to stop aura farming in front of an A-class anyway? Do you think I have all night?”

“It’s not ‘aura farming’ when you’re always cool. And stop talking like dad.”

They kept bickering. The saber wielder cursed.

“Riel. They’re even more annoying side by side.”

***

Shinran captured Cross. With better support and preparation, she might have held him off long enough to escape, but the surprise that came with his appearance destroyed any chance of proper adaptation. Nevertheless, the army and hundreds of gleams called in as reinforcements closed around the defunct park where their Threshold assailants had retreated to after completing their objective — this time by some miracle without loss of life or ship.

They found nothing. Of the invaders, there was no trace. Not even a food wrapper.

The very same evening, Threshold called for a UN emergency session claiming imminent first contact with a new species: the Aszhii.