Public Face

Past and present

With the newstablet by His side on the table, He had His breakfast unaware of the outside world. Only when the time came to sip tea by fire, did He stand up and finally spared a glance that blinking red sign on his newstablet. Taking in the aroma of lemongrass tea, He added a few drops of honey to it and let the cup sit aside. Once His eyes landed on the headlines, the tea was forgotten already. Collapsing on the plush armchair, He called out for Iye.

Iye, an inanimate object, flying and speaking like humans, was more like a pet to Him than an advancement of their kind.

"Owner of the Seat," Iye addressed Him.

"Are you aware of the ongoing?" He asked anxiously.

"I am, Sir," Iye hesitated to respond. It was Iye's job to keep track of all the eight realms of multiverse, including Earth.

"Engage Bika," He commanded.

"But," Iye had doubts. Being inanimate didn't hinder it from concerns, well being of others was equally important to it. This was another feature of Iye that the makers were proud of.

"Engage Bika, send her to Earth and ask her to report to our agency, have the discharge in process."

"Very well, Sir."

With a grim face He sat down and grabbed that cup of tea with a shiver running over his thick scales. Cold blood don't get shivers but then, it wasn't truly blood now, was it?

"And get me another cup of hot tea," He called out as Iye whooshed away.

ON EARTH, TWO DECADES AGO

To cry in front of your psychiatrist is the usual thing, nobody is really spared of that embarrassment. But to make a militant cry is another level of sorcery Eena Schaff was capable of. Noah Whitler, coming from a heritage of militants didn't have the luxury to tap into pools of emotions. Perhaps that was the reason he apprehended his each visit. But that wasn't the only reason, of course. More than fear of losing grip of his air-tight shut lid, he was worried about slipping into a world unimaginable. Seeing that gold molded into a ring wrapped around her third finger felt excessively like a noose around his own neck, tightening more each time he saw her.

"You ought to know I am unavailable," Eena went around telling everyone, flashing her wedding ring.

She wasn't the usual kind of shrink, she was specifically allotted that degree by General Patrick Smith after her endless and tireless years of service. Scarfina (or Eena, as she preferred), began as a nurse assisting the war surgeon at that time. After patching them together physically, all night she sat bedside by the injured soldiers, tending to their wounds and calmly talking them down. They said her words has a magical effect; that they didn't feel pain even after the adrenaline wore off. The promotion was justified as she understood each of them very well. But good things don't come alone, do they? Troubles do have their special delivery system.

A feminine figure smiling in a serene fashion amidst chaos brought her an endless string of admirers. How many hearts was she to break? From one of the fallen soldiers, she stole a wedding ring, sending a prayer for mercy.