Despite the November chill, the glow of sunlight pying across my face felt nice. Very rexing. The contrast between the warmth of the sun and the sharp touch of the breeze made for a pleasing contrast that can only be found in the short gap between when all the autumn leaves have fallen and when the bleakness of winter begins in earnest. The patter of a squirrel digging through the undergrowth for its stash of acorns and the chirping of a chickadee were the perfect soundtrack to the serene fall day.

  Days like this, spent outside enjoying nature, are necessary for the soul, at least that’s how I see it. The connection with the wind and the earth, with the swaying of the trees and the singing of birds, brings into perspective that even humans have a pce in the grand order of things, and are a part of the intricate, magical workings that make up Nature.

  Peaceful. Absolutely peaceful. Of course, I’ve long since gotten used to having to sneak in all my moments appreciating the great outdoors while sitting around with a gun guarding something. I had to do it at boot camp, I had to do it at MCT, I had to do it in the fleet, and now I have to do it watching over some magical steampunk monstrosity I helped knock out. Life comes at you fast but there’s always a few constants. Not that these are “constants” for most.

  Our whole group was taking advantage of the calm following our fight with the mechanical monster. Liah, in cat form, was doing what cats do best, curled up in a spot of sunlight beaming down on a rock, the yellow of the light reflecting off her fur with a glimmering golden tint. Her nose would twitch every now and then as the breeze tweaked her whiskers.

  Meanwhile Sandra was leaning against the pile of packs slowly sipping water. With her sunken face, dark circles beneath her eyes and gloomy state of dress, I had the nagging fear that when the cleaners get here they might mistake her for the parcel to be disappeared rather than the automaton. They normally deal with monsters after all, and undead have always been in vogue with a certain subset of the popution. She really needs to get out more, and maybe get some more sun.

  As much as I want to take a nap or rest, someone has to keep an eye on the clockwork construct to make sure it stays dead. I don’t want to have a horror movie twist ending where it reanimates just after we’re sure it’s been destroyed; that’d be such a cliché way to go. And could you imagine them informing my parents?

  “Oh, we’re sorry Mr. and Mrs. Thorne, your daughter was killed in a training accident at her boring archival job. No we can’t give more details, no there won't be an autopsy.” Hm, well, I guess it doesn’t matter what happens from that perspective now that I think about it, we’re in full on conspiracynd here. There’s no way my parents would buy the training accident excuse, so I’d at least hope my work could come up with something a bit more pusible. At this level though the powers that be probably just wouldn’t give a shit if the story made any sense.

  But that’s all just hypotheticals. I managed to get past this brush up without any major injury, although it makes me a bit concerned about the future. I’m supposed to be an archivist, but this just keeps getting more and more dangerous. I should have expected a bit of duties outside my initial job, especially when my boss started bckmailing me into this position. But it’s beginning to feel more and more like I’m being groomed fully into being the kind of door-kicker that’s become the epitome of government overreach. A shiny badge on the chest of some bureaucrat knowing they have control over a paramilitary.

  Okay, I’ll admit, many of them do have legitimate uses. Like the DoE’s people for instance. The Department of Energy being as heavily armed as they are doesn’t make sense, initially, until you think of what they work with: the country’s already ughably secure electrical infrastructure. Wait no, that’s not right, they don’t do jack shit to protect that. It’s the nuke pnts. So the DoE being one of the most armed to the teeth makes sense when part of their job involves protecting key parts of the infrastructure that could devastate the economy and render vast swaths of the country uninhabitable in the case of a severe failure.

  But that’s leaps and bounds more vital than say the IRS having thousands of armed agents to steal money from people. And having a heavily armed contingent for a secret archive full of grimoires? To justify that it would need to be full of votile, unstable things that could risk destabilizing…oh. Hm.

  When you put it that way we seem a bit more important than the bunch of magical weirdos given badges we are. She didn’t budge an inch from her spot curled up on the rock as she thought this at me. I had assumed Liah was asleep, but I guess I was thinking too loud.

  It really puts things in perspective. I decided to follow her example, the weather felt too nice to do anything otherwise.

  Still, leaving something this important to a bunch of madjusted students stretches credibility.

  “Hahahaha!” I couldn’t help myself. The ughter burst forth despite my best efforts to stay composed.

  What’s so funny? Liah raised her had, eyes narrowed towards me.

  You just described most of the military. Well, most are there so they can afford to be students, but you get the idea. All in all, realizing that the people who hold ‘important’ positions are probably near the same level as any of us is one of those uncomfortable realities it’s best to just block out.

  Normally there’s a bit of a difference I’d think. Like training and a command structure.

  Liah, you know me. Do I really seem like a well-disciplined automata?

  I assumed you were an outlier. There’s no way the military is full of people as weird as you.

  I may be an outlier in more ways than one, but the average person is just that, average. It doesn’t matter what their job or position is, although certain types tend to gravitate in certain directions. People may have quirks and oddities, but generally they fall within a standard deviation of the mean, regardless of status. Of course, it’s very uncomfortable to be reminded of that when you remember that the average person standing at the levers of power is just as average as the rest of us, excluding that they tend to be extroverts hiding a tendency for sociopathy. “We seem a bit too weird to somehow have stumbled into such a position of responsibility” makes sense if you look at it from an outsider's perspective I suppose.

  Maybe I’m just inured to such things due to my work history. I got stuck in a job in an “elite fighting force” doing “super-secret” stuff, but all that really means is I got training to run a bit faster and do flexed arm hangs for a bit longer than the average person, to be stuck in a windowless room because of of my ability to do math, writing, and critical thinking slightly better than the average person. None of it changed the fact that I was a stupid seventeen year old who wasn’t sure what she wanted to do in college and decided to take a more extreme five-year gap year than most people would.

  Referring to military enlistment as a “gap year” seems a bit extreme.

  For all intents and purposes that’s what it was. Some people go to Europe for time off before starting their next chapter in life. I went to Parris Isnd because I wanted to buy time to figure out what I wanted to do in life. And most of the military is the same, even if they end up doing some hush-hush job that sounds straight out of a Tom Cncy novel. The average person on the street would be horrified to know how often people guarding the deepest secrets of this country get caught up in stupid debates such as “Could Goku beat Superman in a fight” or who the best boy in Ouran High School Host Club is. The answer’s Haruhi by the way, anyone else is kind of meh.

  When you put it that way it makes sense. Like my constitution being half-fae. Yes, I know it’s weird, and the average person would never believe it, but it’s just a part of me and my history. I’m sure other people would find it completely weird but it’s just normal to me.

  Exactly! Although it’s not really weird to me. If anything it’s the best of both worlds.

  Fucking weeb, obsessed with cat ears.

  It’s absolutely adorable! Really I need to find a way to talk you into using that specific form more often. All that potential, wasted…

  A noise could be heard breaking the tranquility of the early autumn afternoon. The angry, low growl of a housecat ready to attack whatever or whoever pissed it off. A noise, usually a prelude to bloodshed.

  I can’t believe you, you’re obses- She jumped to her feet, her hackles rising. Not towards me, but south, towards where the flow of the river could faintly be heard. The tweeting of the birds made it hard to imagine any need to worry but with how things had been growing compcency would be foolish.

  “What is it?” I asked, just loud enough to break Sandra out of her own exhausted reverie.

  Something’s coming. I fucking hate when she says that.

  “How bad?”

  I can’t tell yet. It doesn’t seem aggressive towards us, but…

  “But what?”

  It’s here.

  There was a rustle coming from a bush, out from which stepped a white cat.

  AnnouncementFor the first time in ages, I finally have the 3 chapter backlog I've been intending to have up on Patreon! Besides that I'm working on editing for a few of my other stories.