Resonance in the Void

CHAPTER 12: Cracks in the Armor

The days passed in a blur of routine, but the air in the prison felt different. Heavier. Tense. It was as though the walls themselves were closing in, and Peridot seemed to feel it the most. Her once-proud stance had started to slump, her movements stiff and erratic. She had always been meticulous, a model of Homeworld efficiency, but now? Now, Lapis could see the cracks.

Peridot stood at the control panel outside Lapis' cell, tapping away on her tablet. The sound of her fingers tapping against the screen was faster than usual, almost frantic. Lapis watched her closely from the other side of the shimmering force field, her eyes narrowing.

"You've been working nonstop," Lapis commented, her voice breaking the silence. "You look like you haven't rested in days."

Peridot didn't respond immediately. Her fingers paused for just a moment before she continued typing. "There's a lot to manage," she said, her voice tight. "Jasper's interference has caused delays. I have to catch up."

Lapis took a step closer to the force field, her eyes searching Peridot's face. "It's more than just Jasper. You're not yourself."

Peridot's hands froze, her shoulders stiffening. "I'm exactly who I've always been," she said sharply, her voice strained.

Lapis shook her head. "No, you're not. You're starting to doubt yourself."

Peridot's eyes snapped up to meet Lapis', and for the first time, there was something raw in her gaze. Anger. Fear. Confusion. "I don't have time for your psychoanalysis," she muttered, turning back to her work.

Lapis sighed softly, leaning against the wall of her cell. "I get it, you know. The feeling that everything you thought you knew is a lie. It's not easy to face."

Peridot stiffened, her back to Lapis. "You don't know anything about me."

"I know enough," Lapis replied, her voice calm but unwavering. "I know you've been loyal to Homeworld your whole life. I know you believed in the mission, in the authority of the Diamonds. But now? Now you're starting to see the cracks."

Peridot's hands clenched around her tablet, the tension in her body visible. "I don't have time for this," she muttered again, more to herself than to Lapis.

But Lapis wasn't letting her off that easily. "You've seen what they're capable of, Peridot. Jasper's brutality. The way they treat us—like we're nothing more than tools, disposable. Is that really something you want to be a part of?"

Peridot's breathing was shallow, and for a moment, Lapis thought she might explode. But instead, Peridot let out a shaky breath, her voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know."

Lapis' heart skipped a beat at the admission. It was the first real sign that Peridot was cracking, that her resolve was weakening. "It's okay not to know," Lapis said gently. "It's okay to question things."

But Peridot shook her head, her voice trembling. "No, it's not. I can't... I can't just abandon everything I've worked for. Everything I believe in."

Lapis stepped closer, her voice soft but firm. "Maybe what you believe in is worth abandoning."

Peridot turned to face Lapis, her eyes wide and filled with something that looked dangerously close to desperation. "And then what?" she asked, her voice cracking. "If I'm not loyal to Homeworld, if I'm not following my purpose... then what am I?"

Lapis didn't hesitate. "You're more than just a cog in their machine, Peridot. You're smart. You're capable. You could be so much more if you just let yourself see it."

Peridot stared at her, and for a moment, it looked like she might say something more. But instead, she turned away, her hands trembling as she clutched her tablet like a lifeline.