Chapter Text
For as long as they remember, Shaikha Van lived by one mantra. To resist.
For as long as she remembers, she tries.
They try to live through the irony of sharing part of a name that represented everything she has failed to be. The Vanguard, a term that goes beyond someone watching over a white vehicle. If only life was that easy.
Maybe it was easy, back when you were young enough to believe the fantasy of having freedom outside of what is dictated by the Trinity. Where the barriers between the Capital and Fringe blurred into something that didn't require a forced hand and ruled lines. It turned into something beautiful, chaotic, and...free.
(Shaikha clearly wasn't one for poetry, but it didn't take long for them to know that what she saw in the Vanguard, they wanted to see in Varium)
Because that's what the Vanguard was. To see that their visions of liberation will at last become a reality, rather than a faulted dream. But Shaikha is beginning to see what it was, a fantasy.
It became one the moment they stepped into the Capital.
fantasy
noun - the faculty or activity of imagining impossible or improbable things.
You would think that the word fantasy meant something greater than that. But no, it just had to be aligned with the word 'inconceivable'. Perhaps that's why it became a great fit for the Vanguard, yearning for something that's just out of their reach.
Almost since the beginning, there was a clear divide between the Fringe and the Capital. Money and power eventually accumulated into a force that towers over the amount of territory the Fringe had over the Capital, burning any possible bridge for the two sides to be seen as equals.
Still, they reached.
When the plan was set for them to infiltrate The Atrium of all places, believing that pure heroism, finger guns, and a metal stick would be enough against the Atrium's technological advancements.
They reached.
When the people in front of Shaikha looked at her with utmost faith, Shaikha almost believed them too.
It was only until the group stepped onto a minefield that Shaikha stopped reaching.
They let go.
After all, what good was a guard that couldn't protect their people?
fantasy TRUTH.
noun - the faculty or activity of imagining impossible or improbable things ACTUALLY HAPPENING.
Example: (see below)
"No..."
Shaikha watched in horror as her front line was immediately slaughtered by the Atrium's defense forces.
They knew that it wouldn't be pretty. But to have trained for years, to have bonded over nothing but dreams and the self-sacrificing nature that comes with being a soldier, forging a new family over said dream that would have made their pain worth it...
...only to be ripped out from underneath them by a robotic wall no less, was crueler than Shaikha expected the universe could be.
Because in that cruel moment, the Vanguard realized how real their vision was of the Trinity.
They could deal with sore muscles and all nighters.
But this? This was no fantasy. It was a nightmare. Except...
nightmare
a dream which is characterized as being frightening or disturbing to the individual which can induce feelings of fear, sadness and despair.
It's no dream. It was only the truth.
The decision to fall back was obvious. No amount of planning could predict the kind of advancements the Atrium had over the Fringe.
Really it all worked out in their favor, as the AIs were 'lenient' (being a robot does not hide the passive aggressiveness in the words "or else") enough to allow a 30-minute count down for them to turn back, before the doors close indefinitely and are pointedly punished.
The countdown was suspiciously long, but Shaikha presumed that the AIs were smart enough to realize how wary the Vanguard were of the countdown and would likely be waiting until the very end. Despite outer appearances, it was almost as if that was intentional, to either let them stay longer and take in the damage before they retreat and disband for good or stay behind and let the AIs make an even bigger mockery of them.
But hey, no harm no foul right?
Except 10 minutes had passed and no one had moved an inch, their window to escape nearing to be gone for good. Because there was one piece of evidence that was false.
No harm no foul right?
That. That was an issue.
Even Sheriff couldn't count the number of casualties with their added robot hand. And Shaikha understood the Vanguard's decision to stay. It felt wrong to leave knowing that the people in front of you, the ones who greeted the front gates with a smile and a heartfelt war cry lost their faces for no reason.
Shaikha couldn't let their deaths slide but...
What good was a guard that couldn't protect their people?
...a voice coming from a place of guilt and reason tells her that they couldn't be responsible for more deaths.
But would one more death really hurt?
'It wouldn't come to that," Shaikha waved, denouncing that thought, yet continued to listen to what the voice in their head was saying.
A plan.
To kill off the Trinity. Once and for all.
Only this time...she would make sure that no one would help them.
Goddammit, she should have done this earlier.
"TURN BACK! RETREAT!"
With a mix of fire and steel hot on their heels, the Vanguard ran as fast as the wind and smoke would carry them, and faster so that the guns couldn't catch them.
Shaikha made it to the door first, wanting to make a point of seeing everyone (who was alive at least), get out of the Atrium unscathed. Once they were out, the Vanguard caught onto the urgency of Shaikha yelling to "get their asses down to neutral territory" and left the Capital without questioning whether or not Shaikha would be following them.
Shaikha wouldn't, at least not now.
The plan was to have everyone leave before they would close the Atrium gates shut - ensuring that if the Vanguard realizes she wasn't coming back, the gates would stop them from going through with their idiotic loyalty. Already they should be nearing Neutral Territory, and it was a matter of time before they realized that Shaikha hasn't joined them. So ideally, now would be a great time to put the plan in action. There was just one problem.
"Sher?"
(Sheriff, resident teenage outlaw, was more preoccupied with staring off into space, as opposed to fleeing to safety)
"Sheriff!"
Sheriff stiffened, their horrified expression going back to it's relaxed position, at the sound of their leader's voice. Normally, a quick nod was all that's needed for Shaikha to know that they had commanded their full attention. Even if they put a smile on their face as they walked over to Shaikha, it was blatantly obvious that something was still bothering them.
"I've missed the silence of you listening to me.", Shaikha joked, in an attempt to lighten the mood.
That, and most importantly, trying to figure out where Sheriff stands with all this. Because as someone practically painted as a motormouth, their silence meant nothing good.
"So, what's wrong? Why aren't you leaving?"
"...It's nothing."
Shaikha was a master of brushing feelings off but even she had to admit that watching a large part of your family die right in front of you wasn't nothing.
"Ok, you better tell me what’s going on, and why you were actually using words you’re way too young for when I picked up.”
That was a lie, Shaikha has been using those same words since they first viewed the world.
"I know ok? I know why you are staying behind, even though I know for a fact you were the first person to get here."
"It's because-"
"And before you say 'headcount', I know that's a load of bull crap."
With all the swearing done back at the Fringe, Shaikha shouldn't have flinched as hard as she did. But it stung all the same."
"It was-"
"A technicality yes, but we both know there was more to it than that."
There was always something about their amber eyes which Shaikha struggled to lie to, so they settled for remaining silent.
Despite the lack of response, Sheriff continued.
"Look dude, I get it. I know I can't change your mind. Which is why I want to help."
What.
"Ride or die my dude, and I prefer to do the first option."
And Sheriff decided now to revert back to their old personality.
"Sher-Sheriff listen. This? This isn't a game. This is life and death. If you stay you will-"
Wait, why was Sheriff here? Surely they must have *some* instinct of life preseverance.
They didn't get it. The delicate window of time was closing, and Sheriff can't be here for when it happens. So Shaikha turned to a last resort.
"WHAT DO YOU THINK WILL HAPPEN WHEN YOU CAME IN HERE?"
Aggression. An unpleasant tactic, used in extreme measures to turn people away when you wanted to.
But of course, that didn't work on Sheriff. Things never seemed to work in Shaikha's favour.
“…I know that I'll end up dead. The only thing I’d care about is that you weren’t, too.”
So Sheriff did get it.
All along, they knew what Shaikha was doing, why they were doing it. They both knew that even if they left, even if the Vanguard remained unharmed, nothing would change, and the Trinity would win without an opponent to lose to. It was only just now that they realized it meant the loss of so many too many lives.
And now they wanted to do it too.
It was the sincere honesty combined with the seriousness of the statement that turned Shaikha sick to their core.
But would one more death really hurt?
That was all too familiar-all to Shaikha-like for her liking. That had to change.
One more death would be nothing if it was Shaikha. It would be one too many if it was Sheriff.
As hypocritical as their actions would be, Shaikha was too selfish to let someone die for their own causes. It may have been too late before when she had gathered a small group of rebels to storm a city that blew up the world around them. Shaikha couldn't fix what happened then, but she can spare Sheriff from meeting the same fate.
I'm sorry kid.
When Sheriff tries to make a point by warily shifting their head towards the dead bodies, Shaikha stops them by reaching across their cheek and gently forcing their head away from the massacre.
God, they're just a kid, they didn't deserve this mess.
With their hand rested on Sheriff's face, brown eyes meeting orange, Shaikha's stomach drops for a second time as she dreads their next action-
-A hug.
Shaikha 'The Hero' Van, leader of a government opposing resistance group, has hugged Sheriff in the middle of the battle. Let's just say, there was a lot of mixed emotions about it.
On one hand, the timing was odd. They could stretch and say that it was attuned to Sheriff's declaration (which didn't make sense, because they thought they knew exactly how loyal the Vanguard was to her).
But on the other hand...it was nice?
It was good and solid, which was only but a minimal description to it actually felt. There was hope and trust associated with it, forming a shelter that seemed to put the world on hold. Even in the raging gunfire, Shaikha remained solid as ever.
Eventually, Sheriff raised their arms to return the hug. It was more casual than Shaikha's, and looser than they would have liked, but solely because the initial shock left them drained of any energy they would have had.
Yeah, this is nice.
But before Sheriff could return the hug properly, Shaikha released their grip on them, Sheriff's orange eyes now meeting her (saddened?) brown ones. That was weird.
Frowning, Sheriff had missed the sensation of the hug, but the warmth was returned to them when Shaikha's hands rested on their shoulders.
"I'm going to give you the only thing I have left - a chance."
A smile blessed Sheriff's face. For so long they had dreamed of this moment, working side by side with The Hero! The Shaikha Van! It was one thing to work on the same team but working along them was a luxury that Sheriff didn't think they could afford among the poverty of the Fringe.
"I'll make you proud.", they beamed, eyes brightening into sun rays of light.
But Shaikha's eyes remained as grey as the dullness of the Atrium.
"You already have. The Vanguard will depend on you. And for that I am sorry."
Wait...what?
It lasted seconds, but Sheriff could feel themselves being pushed away through open gates.
Away from Shaikha, now that the gates are closed. For good.
Once Sheriff's gone, they bite back a scream.
Because more than anything, she wishes that Sheriff wouldn't try to be them.
Sheriff didn't deserve the pressure of being a leader while Shaikha didn't deserve Sheriff. It was as simple as that.
Who knows how this would affect them in the future. If there is one.
Pushing away the thought of never seeing Sheriff again, Shaikha focuses all their rising guilt, rage, and grief into the stupid security droids.
They don't know how long she held off the security systems, but they were certain it was enough for the others to escape. Sneaking behind the wreckage, she runs into a closed-off alleyway. While it was unideal for an ambush scenario, it would have to do for Shaikha to figure out their next move. Maybe tend to some wounds if there's time.
Oh.
Sure, she has more burns than skin, and their hands sting with shards up glass and metal embedded in the palms of her hands. But it was fine, she has a handle on things. They can endure. Shaikha resists.
Once, Shaikha preached about the importance of taking breaks, after one too many all-nighters pulled by a certain member (which may have lead to Sheriff's coffee ban, not that they followed it).
"You can't take care of others if you can't take care of yourself, after all."
Yet like Sheriff, she refuses to extend that courtesy to themselves. Because she doesn't deserve get that luxury. Pain and sacrifice is always around the corner, waiting to infect their family like an unwelcome disease. But she would and will take the hits and fire, just to keep their family safe. And staying up late was just one small step in doing so. Staying behind was one giant leap. (But besides, she had to make up for her incompetency somehow) They can take it, just like all those other times.
Can she?
Shaikha tries to silence the feeling of doubt in their head when a new voice spoke up.
"Shaikha Van."
A chill ran down her spine and judging by the burning surroundings around them, it had nothing to do with the cold.
Yep, that definitely wasn't a figure of her imagination.
Turning their head towards the voice, she summoned everything they had into sounding brave. Her retort was cut short when their eyes meet a cloaked figure, dawned in a dramatic black robe and paired with a mask, sporting a Trinity insignia. The downward triangle only meant one thing...
Come on Shaikha...resist.
"That's me. Who the hell are you?", they snapped.
Aggression. Used to hide how absolutely terrified she was.
But a monotone, almost robotic voice broke through.
"You'll figure that out soon enough."
The thing was, they already had.
Any sense of bravery was lost when she caught sight of their weaponry.
The Atrium Scythe. Armed only by those of the highest power, with the ability to hack, (in the technological sense), hack off (in the her-limbs-can-and-will-be-sliced-off sense), and overall posed as an offensive threat to her.
I came.
With that, the figure struck at them.