Resonance in the Void

CHAPTER 10: Silent Confessions

The following days were tense. Jasper, now more aware of Peridot's growing defiance, kept a closer watch on both her and Lapis. The warrior stalked the halls of the prison, her presence like a storm cloud hanging over everything. She was waiting for a mistake, a misstep from either Peridot or Lapis, something to give her an excuse to unleash her fury.

Peridot, meanwhile, grew more distant. She still came to check on Lapis, still performed her routine scans, but she spoke less. Her once meticulous demeanor had grown erratic, her focus wavering as though she was lost in thought even when she was right in front of Lapis.

"You've been quiet," Lapis remarked one day as Peridot performed her usual diagnostic. The tech Gem didn't even look up, her fingers dancing over the holographic controls with mechanical precision.

"I have nothing to say," Peridot muttered, though her voice lacked its usual coldness.

Lapis narrowed her eyes, studying Peridot carefully. "That's not true. You're thinking about something. I can tell."

Peridot finally looked up, her visor glinting in the dim light. "You think you know me so well?"

"I think I'm starting to," Lapis replied, stepping closer to the force field. "You've been different since Jasper showed up. More... uncertain."

Peridot scoffed, though there was no real conviction in the sound. "I am not uncertain. I know exactly what my role is here."

"And what role is that?" Lapis asked, her voice soft but probing. "To keep me locked away for Homeworld? To follow orders without question?"

Peridot's fingers twitched over the controls, her eyes narrowing. "That is my purpose."

"Is it really, though?" Lapis' voice was gentle, but it cut deep. "Because every time you talk about it, you sound less sure."

Peridot didn't respond, but the silence that followed was louder than any argument could have been. Lapis could see the struggle in her, the way Peridot's shoulders tensed, the way her hands shook just slightly as she worked. The perfect, logical mask she had always worn was starting to crack.

"You don't have to be like them," Lapis said quietly. "You're not a monster."

Peridot's hands froze, her eyes flicking up to meet Lapis'. For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, Peridot asked, "What if I am?"

Lapis' heart clenched at the vulnerability in Peridot's voice. "You're not," she said firmly. "You're capable of more than just following orders. You're capable of kindness, of empathy."

Peridot flinched at the words, her hands balling into fists. "I don't know how to be anything else."

"You can learn," Lapis said softly. "It's not too late."

The silence that followed was heavy, filled with unspoken fears and doubts. Peridot turned away, her shoulders hunched, and for the first time since they'd met, Lapis saw a crack in her armor.