Chapter 10: A Brief Conversation
The room the young minister had provided was a stark contradiction to the rest of the Crimson Red. Where the castle's halls were carved from blood-colored stone and lit by flickering torches, this chamber was all smooth metal and cold, steady light bleeding from panels set into the ceiling. A broad table dominated the center, projecting a holographic map of the continent — shifting lights and symbols that meant absolutely nothing to Rie and clearly meant everything to the man studying them with unnerving focus.
She traced a finger through the air where a miniature mountain range hung suspended in light, watching it flicker faintly at her touch.
"So..." She turned to Gamma, who hadn't looked up from the map since they'd walked in. "You really are a devil?"
"No," Gamma said, without breaking his focus. "I'm not."
"But you said—" Rie stopped, the pieces rearranging themselves slowly in her head. "Wait. That whole thing in the throne room. The Marshal. That was—"
"A story." He finally glanced up, visor tilting toward her. "My identity was a tactical asset. Deployed when it was useful. The court needed something they could believe in fast, and 'devil sent to help you' was faster than the truth."
Rie's mouth stayed open for a second with nothing behind it. "You lied. To an entire kingdom. To me."
"I didn't lie to you," Gamma said, and something in his tone shifted — not quite defensive, but closer to careful than his usual flatness. "You were standing right there. You heard the same story they did. I never told you it was true."
"That's not — that's not the same as telling me it wasn't." Rie's arms crossed hard over her chest, something hot and unsteady rising in her throat that she didn't entirely have a name for yet. She'd spent the last two days deciding, slowly, that she trusted this man enough to follow him into a war she didn't understand. Finding out the ground under that trust had a crack in it from the very start stung more than she expected it to.
Gamma was quiet for a moment, watching her with an attention that felt, for once, entirely present instead of split between her and some tactical readout. "Fair," he said finally. "You're right. I should've said something before you found out in a throne room full of people who'd have used your reaction against both of us if you'd gotten it wrong." A pause. "That's not an excuse. It's the reason. Doesn't make the first part less true."
It wasn't a real apology. Rie was starting to suspect he didn't entirely know how to give one — but it was closer to honest than anything else he'd offered her yet, and for now, grudgingly, she let it be enough.
"Why get involved in our war at all, though," she asked, some of the heat draining out of her voice as curiosity elbowed the hurt aside. "You could've just kept looking for your ship and left the rest of us out of it."
"Because I'm not doing this alone by choice." Gamma turned fully to face her, and something in his posture went a shade heavier. "The angels aiding the humans — some of them were my crew once. People I served beside. They mutinied. They're the reason my friend is dead." His gauntlet curled slowly into a fist at his side. "I can't hunt them down without help. So I gave your people a story they'd rally behind. A devil they could believe in enough to point their army at my problem."
Before Rie could push further, the chamber doors slid open with a soft hiss.
The young minister from the throne room stepped through, expression a careful mask of polite calculation. He gave a slight bow. "My apologies for the intrusion, Lord Marshal. My name is Roz — Minister of Internal Affairs." A pause, timed like he enjoyed it. "And, more relevantly, the Empress's younger brother."
His smile didn't reach his eyes. "I find myself intrigued by you. Your performance in the throne room was... compelling. A masterful fabrication, built upon a foundation of absolute truth."
Gamma's helmet tilted. "What's that supposed to mean."
"It means," Roz said, gaze narrowing with something that looked uncomfortably close to delight, "that while the 'Marshal of Hell' is a convenient fiction, the hatred you carry for these angels is entirely real. Your desire for vengeance is a tangible force, Lord Gamma. That makes you a useful ally — however temporary the arrangement might prove to be."
His eyes flicked to the map. "You intend to kill them. Correct?"
"That's the objective."
"And the humans fighting beside them?"
"Not my target," Gamma said, flat and certain. "But they've made their choice. Anyone standing between me and the traitors becomes an obstacle. I have no reservations about clearing obstacles."
Something like satisfaction crossed Roz's face. "Excellent. Then our goals align rather neatly." His gaze sharpened. "Though it seems you aren't fully briefed on the particulars of our war."
"Honestly, no," Gamma admitted. "Something about a prophecy, from what I've heard."
Roz gestured toward Rie. "Perhaps your... sister... can offer the perspective of someone who's actually lived under it."
Rie startled at being pulled into it, but gathered herself quickly enough. "It started with a prophecy. Said the 'monstrous races' were an abomination, fated to destroy the world. The human king used it to build the Divine Alliance and pull the other kingdoms in behind him." She hesitated. "They call it a holy war. The elders always said it's just an excuse to expand their empire under a banner nobody's willing to argue with."
"Precisely," Roz cut in smoothly, taking the thread back from her with practiced ease. "They frame conquest as divine mandate. And now, with these 'angels' appearing at their side, their soldiers believe themselves genuinely invincible. Holy warriors, blessed and unstoppable."
"So — a war built on belief, used as cover for a land grab." Gamma's tone dripped disdain. "Cheap. Effective, though. Belief like that doesn't break easy."
"Which is precisely why your arrival is so fortunate," Roz said. "You offer us a counterweight. A devil to answer their angels." His attention settled fully on Gamma. "Tell me, Lord Marshal — what do you require, to begin your hunt?"
Gamma was quiet for a moment, gaze drifting back to the glowing map, to the region blinking faintly near its northern edge — the same signal that had been sitting at the corner of his HUD since before he'd even walked into this room.
"For now?" he said finally. "Nothing from you. There's something I need to check myself first, before I decide what kind of help is actually worth asking for."
Roz's brow lifted slightly, curiosity flickering behind the calculation. "As you wish, my Lord. Though the offer remains open, whenever you find it worth taking."
"Noted." Gamma didn't elaborate further, and Roz — reading the room with the same efficient instinct he seemed to apply to everything — didn't press.
"Then for tonight," Roz said, straightening, "you and your sister should rest. Accommodations befitting your station have already been arranged." He gestured toward the door, where a demon attendant in a simple black dress had appeared with the quiet suddenness of someone very good at her job. "The staff will see to whatever you need."
The attendant led them from the cold efficiency of the command chamber to a suite that felt like it belonged to an entirely different building — plush crimson carpets, a fire already crackling in the hearth, a bed large enough that Rie let out an involuntary, delighted squeak and threw herself onto it before the attendant had even finished excusing herself from the room.
"Gamma, look! It's so soft!" She rolled onto her back, sinking into a mattress deeper than anything Hanamura had ever offered her. "I don't think I've ever felt anything like this in my life!"
He didn't answer. He'd already settled into a high-backed chair near the window, the boisterous sound of his newly-declared sister fading into background noise while his attention narrowed onto the PDA in his hands. The screen cast a faint blue glow across his armor as a search algorithm churned through fragmented data, hunting for exactly one thing.
The signal was close. Closer than any of the other scattered debris he'd tracked so far. And unlike the small crate he'd found the first night, this reading carried a mass signature that suggested something considerably larger.
He didn't tell Rie what he was planning yet. There wasn't a version of tonight's trip that didn't involve going in alone, and there wasn't a version of that conversation with her that would end without an argument he didn't have time for.
Tonight, he thought, watching the signal blink steadily against the dark treeline on his display. Before anyone else knows to ask.