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Silver Wolf never experienced Kafka without Stelle and vice versa.
When she first joined the Stellaron Hunters, the two were the first people she met. However, it was the third member, Firefly, that spent time with her the most. Not because either Kafka or Stelle were such snobs, but because the two would always rather spend time with just each other.
The image of the two always arriving together whenever Elio summoned them, Kafka dropping her flirty facade whenever she spoke with Stelle, and the way the two talked about each other were too big of a factor to be ignored. One time, when Silver Wolf and Kafka were on a mission together, the latter demanded they stay on that planet for a bit longer. “I wanna buy some presents.”
“For Stelle?”
Kafka hummed as she tied her winter scarf around her neck. “Why, yes.”
“Why don’t I also get a present?” she asked teasingly.
Kafka did not seem to take notice of the implication and just shrugged. “You’re all always free to use my card.”
Silver Wolf rolled her eyes and followed Kafka out. They were on a rather cold planet, but despite the rather unfriendly climate, tourists still visit a whole lot. Currently, a popular singer for Penacony was having a concert, so it was easy not to get noticed in the throngs of people as they strolled the streets. She asked, “Does Stelle use your card?”
“No,” Kafka told her, “she likes it when I choose things for her instead. She said that’s what makes it special.”
She had long learned that Kafka has three different smiles. One for when she was amused with herself and wanted to trick people, one for when she was amused with others, and one for when she was around Stelle or when she was talking about Stelle. She was wearing the latter now.
“Ugh, you two disgust me,” Silver Wolf whined, putting her hands inside her pockets, and overtaking Kafka.
Silver Wolf remembers the first time she found out the two had a rather special bond. It was hinted at by Elio when she joined, but this was something Silver Wolf just ignored, considering she had dealt with annoying couples as co-workers in the past, and yet these two were a different story.
One night, a few weeks after her mission with Kafka, Stelle volunteered to join her planet hop to gather some materials for her research. To her surprise, she laughed, and asked, “Would your possessive girlfriend be alright with that?”
Stelle’s frown told a million stories. “My g-girlfriend?”
Silver Wolf had the urge to laugh, but at this point, she had already spent a fair amount of time around Stelle to know if she was playing the fool. She said, “Kafka?”
“Oh,” Stelle breathed loudly as she looked down, red hues imprinting her pale skin. “We're not—”
“What?” Silver Wolf asked, appalled.
“She’s not my…” Stelle said sheepishly, smiling like a child that had been kicked and thrown. A wet chick. Silver Wolf wanted to punch her in the face.
“Don’t mess with me.”
“I’m not lying!” Stelle was laughing now but also was so clearly in distress. She looked around, as if afraid the others might hear her. Blade was around, after all. In a very small, very pathetic voice, she added, “We’re not together.”
“Stelle,” Silver Wolf said, “you do nothing but spend time with each other, and when you’re not, you just talk about each other, and you’re not together?”
Silver Wolf suddenly remembered the exact words Elio used when she talked about Kafka and Stelle; they were, “each other’s destiny” and this was made clear by the past few months she had spent with them. What did Stelle mean they were not together? Dramatically, she said, “Explain yourself.”
Stelle laughed nervously. “Well,” she said, “let’s get to the ship first.”
They didn’t talk about the topic again until they were on the last planet they had to visit. Silver Wolf was sidetracked (or, as she looks back now, intentionally distracted) by Stelle’s questions about gaming. “Okay, explain,” she said finally. It was not as though they all always talked about personal things. In fact, they almost never did that. Still, this was too much of a snoop for Silver Wolf to ignore or act uninterested in.
Stelle looked miserable. “I tried. She said we’re better off as friends.”
“What? When?”
As it turned out, Stelle herself had been confused about Kafka’s intentions since the beginning. They were designated by Elio to work together most of the time, and while Kafka was purely business at the beginning, they eventually formed a connection that Stelle knew was something special. “I was waiting for her to make it clear to me,” Stelle reasoned, “you know she calls the shots. I couldn’t bear it anymore though, so I confessed last night.”
“Last night?”
“Yeah.” If Silver Wolf hadn’t noticed it before, she could see it now. The bags under Stelle’s eyes looked darker than normal, her hair messier, and she did not even touch her food when they ate earlier.
“We kinda got into a fight.”
“How do you kinda get into a fight?”
“I told her she’s messed up for playing with my feelings,” Stelle chuckled bitterly, kicking the stone along them. “She just… treats me like I don’t know anything. She said I got it all wrong and that we’ll talk about it today.”
Silver Wolf could see their ship from where they were walking. She inquired, “and?”
“I got angry. I told her to stop treating me like a child. Rejection is better than being told that we can’t do it because it’s ‘for the better’? What does that even mean? What is wrong with her?”
Silver Wolf knew she was missing a lot of context and Stelle herself was not doing herself any favors by explaining things rather messily, so she just decided to reply between the gaps of Stelle’s rant. She could tell she needed it.
By the time they were near their ship, Silver Wolf stopped. “Wait.”
“I just can’t understand why—”
“Stop.”
“—I mean, why won’t she just explain things clearly instead of speaking in freaking riddles?”
“Stelle!”
“Huh?”
“Someone is watching us.”
But it was too late, Stelle was still processing her thoughts and Silver Wolf reacted way later, when gunshots started raining upon them. She cursed as she heard Stelle whimper. Upon looking, she realized Stelle’s right shoulder was glazed by a bullet. Thankfully, that meant she could still walk away. Silver Wolf tossed her everything they bought from this planet. “Go!”
“But—”
“I’ll handle this.” In retrospect, it was quite funny, because Silver Wolf’s first thought was, “God, Kafka would kill me,” and she kept thinking about that as she obliterated everyone who dared chase her and Stelle.
By the time she made it back to the ship, she found Stelle cleaning her wound by herself on the counter. What Silver Wolf thought was just a simple glaze was a full bullet wound. Shit, she thought again. This was her jump ship. There was nothing particularly useful here for these kinds of wounds. She wasn’t usually faced by such violence, considering she rarely went out physically, but she became too comfortable today, and she even brought Stelle with her. Kafka will kill me.
“I need it removed,” Stelle said, sweat dripping from her face. Blood was all over her white shirt, and her jacket was disregarded by the counter.
“I’ll make a jump to our headquarters,” Silver Wolf said, reaching out to her controller. “Can you stop the bleeding for now?”
“Yes….”
“Good, hold on.”
The first person they saw in the headquarters was Kafka.
She had been sitting on the couch, without her coat. She looked smaller that way, but not any less intimidating. At first, she looked pissed, but when she realized that both Silver Wolf and Stelle were covered in blood, annoyance turned into concern very quickly. “What ha--”
“She was shot.”
Kafka’s eyes widened, helping Silver Wolf with Stelle who was barely awake. She groaned when Kafka moved her other shoulder, unaware of where the wound was. “Sorry,” Kafka whispered, and it was the first time Silver Wolf heard such gentleness in her voice.
They positioned Stelle on the couch and Silver Wolf made it her duty to get the things Kafka would need to clean Stelle up. Surprisingly, the spirit whisperer was the best among them at these things.
“Stay awake, okay?” she heard Kafka whisper. “Stay awake for me.”
Silver Wolf had never wished to understand how humans work, for they were the more complicated machines, but she knew exactly how special Stelle must be to Kafka. Not once did Kafka falter throughout the process, from taking out the bullet to wrapping the wound and to carrying Stelle to her room. The gentle way her hand moved, the care that cut deep with every word of comfort she uttered. It was not until Stelle was positioned comfortably in her room — in a new set of shirt — did Kafka took a deep breath.
She sat on the bed, her hand holding Stelle’s. “Tell me what happened.”
Stelle was still awake, though now pretty much high from medicine, so Silver Wolf knew Kafka was asking her. “An ambush.”
“She didn’t have a mission today. Neither did you.”
“I have a personal research,” Silver Wolf said, “and she wanted to tag along.”
Kafka turned to look at her, but then, “Kaf—” Every bit of her attention was then transferred to Stelle again. Stelle, who was looking even more tired than before.
Silver Wolf realized she must even feel more vulnerable now than earlier. She said, “I’ll leave you two alone. Come find me later for the details, Kafka.”
Later that night, Kafka did find her in her lab, carrying a glass of wine. Silver Wolf regarded her with a nod, blowing her gum, with her gaze staying on her monitor. “How is she?”
“She’ll live.”
Silver Wolf laughed. “Of course, she will. It’s just a stupid wound.” She started explaining what happened on the planet. Those guys were perhaps just people wanting to take the bounty from their heads. They’ve encountered a lot of those before, but especially when they were together. While this was when Silver Wolf was still pretty new, the bounty on her head was already impressive. Kafka took this information in without a word. “I took care of them. You don’t need to get revenge or anything.” Finally, she looked at Kafka, “Were you scared? For her?”
“Scared?” the laugh that left Kafka was void of any humor. “I can feel no such thing. I was angry though. Nothing angers me more than seeing her hurt.”
She let the moment to breathe, and then said, “She was pretty upset today, Kafka.”
Kafka looked up from her glass. “Did she tell you?”
“She did.”
Kafka considered this and hummed. “She cried herself to sleep.”
“And you still left?”
“I can’t be there for her all the time. I can’t allow her to think I will be.”
“Why is that?” This was the first time she ever spoke to Kafka this way. Usually, their conversations were just full of banters. Now, she felt as though she needed to get this information out, especially because it involved both of her friends.
Kafka stood, downed the rest of her wine, and looked directly at Silver Wolf. “It’s about time you get the next script from Elio, Wolfie.”
Truthfully enough, Elio summoned her the next day and gave her her script. To say she was shocked would be an understatement. “This is—”
“You will play a huge part in this particular script,” Elio said.
Silver Wolf huffed. “Not as big as Kafka and Stelle will.”
“And possibly Caelus.”
Another huff. “Same thing, but do I have to?”
Elio just looked at her then, responding with silence. Because of course, she did have to. “Got it. Send me the latest prototype.”
“It has been done already.”
“Of course it is,” she said.
When she turned to leave, Elio spoke once more. “They’ll be alright, Silver Wolf.”
“But they will have to suffer first.”
“Don’t we all?”
She rolled her eyes and raised one hand in a mock salute. “I can’t argue with that. See ya, Elio.”
She came to Stelle’s room after, where she found a sleeping Stelle and a very much awake Kafka who seemed to be waiting for her. “You got it?”
“Elio said you’ll fill me in some things.”
Kafka hummed, her gaze lingering to Stelle. “Give me a moment.”
“Have you spoken?”
“A bit,” she said and stood, gently placing a hand over Stelle’s forehead. For a second, Silver Wolf thought she would leave a kiss there, but then she stood straight. “Let’s go.”
In a true Kafka fashion, they went to the ship’s parlor where they have a clear view of the stars. Kafka prepared them some tea and clunked her mug with Silver Wolf’s. “So?”
“Let me ask first.”
“Go on.”
“When was Stelle made?”
Kafka chuckled. “Their first prototype was made over two decades ago. It had no proper consciousness, however, and it was Prototype X — Stelle — who made the breakthrough.”
Silver Wolf was aware from the beginning that Stelle had an artificial body, but she never knew she was purely that. “When?”
This was already answered in the files Elio gave her, but she still wanted Kafka to tell the story.
“She gained consciousness 15 years ago with a functional brain of an average human adult. She never experienced childhood nor did she need to hone her fighting skills as that was part of her programming. Someone weaponized her for their own bidding before. Elio found her three years ago and sent me to get her. I did. She was no more than a machine then; I mean, she did have cognitive thinking skills, but she wasn’t familiar with human interactions, etiquette, and going to missions without blowing everything up, so Elio placed us as partners.”
“And she knows all these?”
Kafka frowned. “Of course, she does.”
“I mean the next part.”
“Oh. Not yet.”
“When did you find out about this script then?”
“Since the beginning.”
If this was a cartoon, Silver Wolf’s jaw would have dropped. “Please elaborate.”
Kafka chuckled. “When I joined, Elio promised there would be a person who would change me. When Stelle arrived, Elio didn’t confirm anything, but I knew right away. Before she even made the decision to join us, I was made aware of the future where I’ll have to wipe her memories of me… and of everything.” Her mood turned almost somber by the time she finished the last sentence. Then, as if nothing heavy was just implied, she turned and nodded at Silver Wolf. “What about your script? What does it say?”
“That I will help modify the existing data about her artificial body; improve it further and make sure she truly can absorb the Stellaron and continue like no problem, try to make a copy, and give you an option to choose a male Stelle though I’m sure you’re not into that,” She winked at her, “I’ll also join you at Herta’s Space Station when you deliver her.”
Kafka deadpanned, “Fun.”
She could inquire a lot of things, but Silver Wolf chose one that she knew would catch Kafka off guard. “Tell me, Kafka,” she said, “Are you in love with her?”
The woman’s — as she liked to call her — expression faltered a bit before it changed to her usual smirk.
“This is not a conversation we must be having as co-workers.”
Silver Wolf could not help it, she laughed. Kafka glared at her which made her laugh even more. “You’re actually pathetic.”
“I can shoot you right now.”
She laughed, this time with no trace of humor “But truly, it is sad.”
Kafka leaned back. “I made peace with it long ago. If I can make her happy now and give her just what she needs, that would be enough. I don’t need to go beyond and make her feel even more abandoned when she gets her script.”
“Why doesn’t she have it yet? I thought it’s all about making your own decisions, bla bla bla.”
“My script…” Kafka’s tone contrasted Silver Wolf’s attempt at making light of the situation, “it says that if I told her right now, she would defy this future. I can’t let that happen. This is the only path where Elio could see the best outcome. She deserves nothing less.”
“So, what? You’re just suffering and compressing your love for her now?” Silver Wolf taunted, “that’s ridiculous. You had three years with her. You two could have made the most out of it.”
Kafka’s eyes were dark and for a second Silver Wolf almost moved to shield herself, thinking Kafka might actually strangle her. Kafka wasn’t like that, however, and simply said, “Again: the script, Wolfie.”
“So let me get this straight: if you two get together now…”
“Stelle would defy her destiny and her best future will be no more.”
Suddenly, Silver Wolf’s chest became heavy. She thought as much, of course, but it still felt like air had been slapped off her body with Kafka admitting it out loud; doing so almost nonchalantly, like she did made peace with it long ago. She asked, “You know what you’re doing, right?”
Chuckling, Kafka brought her face close to Silver Wolf’s and smirked. “I do.”
Silver Wolf shook her off. “I just learned your biggest weakness, Kafka, you don’t have to pretend.”
Kafka laughed but stayed close. “Yeah right.”
The moment lingered, and then, “I’m gonna say this one time,” Silver Wolf said, “this will be the first and last time I’ll say things like this…” She was already regretting how cheesy it would sound when she continued, “You both deserve a good future, Kafka. I’m sure that’s what she thinks too.”
Kafka hummed, and with deep longing, she said, “A future without me is a better future than a future with me while she suffers. After all, Elio did say we would change each other — not that we would have each other.”
“I never would have expected you to be such a romantic,” Silver Wolf remarked after a beat. A lie, of course. Kafka was every bit of a romantic, and she herself knew that too.
Kafka smiled, a genuine one this time, and proceeded to leave. “Take care of her for a while. I have a different script across the galaxy with Bladie.”
“For how long?”
A shrug. “A week or two, give and take.” She looked at her and winked. “I’ll be back by the time you finish the prototype. See ya.”
Later, Silver Wolf found herself in her lab, working on her newest project. Many things fascinated her about Stelle’s current prototype, but she knew she could make so much more improvement. Elio did not say anything about making extra effort to retain memories, but she made sure to work on that too. She told herself she was doing this for amusement, but truly she just wanted to do it for her friends. Maybe there would be a future out there where Kafka would be told by the script to bring back Stelle’s memories, and it would be up to Silver Wolf now to design her brain in a way that could recover the memories through Kafka (if she wished so, of course.). She knew there must be other means, but the reminder of the script was too big of a flag to ignore. In fact, she could even formulate a way for Stelle to remember Kafka… but only her face her name. By the time she finished her first revision, she knew it was another day. She got up immediately, stretching her back and arms, and popping a bubble gum in her mouth.
In the kitchen, she found Firefly munching on an egg sandwich. The girl regarded her with a smile. “Hello, Silver Wolf. Worked late?”
“You could say that,” she said, “Have you seen Stelle?”
“Oh yeah. She was here earlier but went to sulk in her room when I told her Kafka’s gone out on a mission.”
“And her wound?”
“Gone. Poof.”
Silver Wolf laughed, grabbing two bananas from the counter. “I’ll go check on her.”
But she didn’t go to Stelle’s room. Instead, she went back to her room and set up some games. Then, she pulled out her phone.
Sent, 07:01
Come
To my room
Now
Like rn
Hello
Stellaaa
Received, 7:02
?
That’s not my name
It’s super early
Why are you awake
Sent, 07:03
A new game
I wanna show you
Come
RN
The read receipt popped on the screen but after ten minutes, Stelle still hadn’t shown up. For a second, Silver Wolf doubted if she would come. Maybe she needed to bring the game there instead. Just as she was setting up to leave, the doorknob turned. Classic Stelle.
“Knocking is awesome, you know.”
“You invited me, bozo,” Stelle said, grinning.
Playing with Stelle was like playing with a kid. One wouldn’t know if she would do something very smart or very stupid; if she did something smart, one wouldn’t be able to tell if it was pure luck or skill. If she did something stupid, one wouldn’t know if it was a skill issue of her just messing with who she was playing with. For Silver Wolf, this meant it was fun to play with her. She would not tell her this though. Instead, every time they finish something, she just said something along the lines of: “Not bad for a noob.”
Later, when they were done playing, Stelle finally asked, “Why did you invite me?”
Silver Wolf snorted. “I invite you all the time.” And this was true. They’d always played when Kafka was on a mission that didn’t involve Stelle. Not a lot though, but this was not certainly an anomaly.
“Yeah but not early in the morning.”
“You’re right. Maybe I just wanted to play as an apology for getting you shot,” she said, grinning. Then, in a more serious tone, she called out, “Hey, Stelle?”
“Yeah?”
“Have you talked to Kafka?”
“Before she just left? Yeah, yeah. I was still in pain and confused and she just left me like that.”
Silver Wolf laughed. Her two friends really change personalities whenever they talk about each other. “You talked about… the stuff?”
“Stuff? Oh yeah,” Stelle said, scratching the back of her neck, “she rejected me, I think.”
“You think?”
“I don’t know. It felt different.” Stelle looked away as if reminiscing something precious. “Like she looked pained when she told me we can’t be together. I’d press on the issue but… she just looked tired and sad even.” As if her mood suddenly changed, she looked at Silver Wolf with wide eyes. “I may be arrogant for this, but she likes me too, right? I know she does. I feel like she does.”
Silver Wolf wanted to troll her, but she chose to stay silent. She could read the room if she wanted.
“And I feel like there’s just something holding her back, that it’s taking everything in her not to let that.”
To be honest, Silver Wolf didn’t expect Stelle to be this accurate. Perhaps she underestimated her empathy and even deeper understanding of how human relationships work. This idea astounded Silver Wolf: Stelle, an artificial being, knew more about emotions than she did. She was both proud and in disbelief by this knowledge. “What will you do?” she asked.
Stelle smiled bitterly. “I trust her, you know. If she thinks what she’s doing is best, I’ll play along. I don’t want to intentionally hurt her by forcing what I want.”
This was the part where Silver Wolf just wanted to create a group chat and expose the two to each other. But then again, this wasn’t her role to play. She did have a part in this script, but she was not a main character. This didn’t mean, of course, that it wasn’t painstakingly annoying to know everything about the two sides of the story and not be able to do anything to help her friends. Still, she knew she couldn’t do anything. She, too, was destiny’s slave in the end.
On the ninth day of Kafka’s absence, Stelle asked, “Do you think she misses me?”
Silver Wolf huffed. “She doesn’t. You’re full of yourself.”
Stelle laughed. “That’s right. She does. Ah, she totally does.”
On the same day, Stelle received a summons from Elio. “I’m scared,” she said, “Should I be scared?”
“Why should you be?”
“Elio always hinted that my biggest role is coming soon,” Stelle said, “but I don’t want to go yet. Especially when…”
“You can’t run from it, Stelle.”
“You’re right,” she said, resolve rising. Then, she nodded, “I’ll see you later.”
As Stelle went off to see Elio, Silver Wolf texted Kafka.
Sent, 15:05
Your gf is getting her script as we speak
I thought it won’t be this soon
Received, 15:07
I deduced as much
Are you done with the project?
Sent, 15:07
Almost
Are you and Bladie done?
Received, 15:10
We’re on our way back
Sent, 15:12
Get ready for a Stelle confrontation
Received 15:12
Hmm. I think she’ll handle this with grace, really.
And, of course, Kafka was right. When Stelle came out, she looked as though she’d aged several years. Not physically, of course, since that body would not age, but the way she regarded her environment seemed more matured somehow. She sat in front of Silver Wolf who was tapping away on her tablet. The latter waited for her to speak, but didn’t. Finally, Silver Wolf got tired of it and dismissed her gadget. “I’ll bite. What did you find out?”
“You’re creating a new vessel for me?”
“Yeah.”
“Since when?”
“A week or so ago.”
“And is it done?”
“Almost.”
“May I see?”
With only a bit of hesitancy, Silver Wolf pulled out her tablet again where she saved a copy of the latest prototype. Stelle didn’t even comment on the fact that there were two options. The female vessel looked exactly like she did, but the male one was modified a bit. Silver Wolf said, “You’re taking this better than I thought.”
“Well, contrary to how Kafka sees me, I’m not a child who needs protection,” Stelle said, bitterness traced in her voice. “But I get it now. I get why she won’t take the plunge with me.”
“You’re not angry?”
“I can never be angry at her,” Stelle said, cackling, “It’s truly very stupid.”
“Love makes anyone stupid. A statement of all ages.”
Stelle looked up, flustered, as if she never once considered that what she was feeling for Kafka was “love” of any sorts. She looked down, playing with the hem of her jacket. “I… am in love with her, aren’t I?”
Silver Wolf wanted to swoon. Why were her friends like this? They could not know she cared like that though, so she resulted to laughing. “You both are hopeless.”
Stelle covered her face with her massive hands, not being able to suppress her smile. When she lifted her head up again, she said, “I pleaded Elio to let me know about the distant future. I only know so much, but I suppose Kafka knows what will happen even later down the line.”
“You don’t know what’s in this for you?”
She shook her head. “All I know is that doing this leads to my best future. I don’t know the details or what role Kafka plays there.”
Silver Wolf tried to shake off the bad feeling inside her chest. Kafka did imply she would not be in this future. She did not have the heart to tell Stelle this, so instead, she said, “What will you do?”
“The same thing I've always done. Trust Kafka.” Stelle said, “She always knows what do to anyway.”
“I thought you’ll resist.”
Stelle laughed. “If I was told about this before she rejected me, maybe, but now I have this image of her in my mind… it’s as if she’s pleading to not make this even harder for either of us.” She looked away, her eyes clearing, “I owe her as much, I suppose.”
Right then, Silver Wolf wished she had a talent at consoling people, and even more so, wished she knew what this distant future holds that was making Kafka hold on to it so deeply. Before she could respond, Kafka arrived with Blade. The latter regarded Silver Wolf, “Where is Elio?”
“In his quarters as always.”
He nodded and looked at Kafka, whose eyes were already directed at Stelle. Kafka spared him a glance, and told him, “You handle this one, Bladie. I need to talk to Stelle.”
Blade left without another word and Silver Wolf watched as Kafka signaled Stelle to stand and follow her, as if speaking without actually doing anything. She could see how uncharacteristically tense Kafka was. She hoped the conversation would go well. For some reason, Silver Wolf decided to stay seated in the parlor. She tapped away on her personal projects and waited for the two to arrive, but they didn’t. Not both of them, at least.
Kafka arrived with a bottle of wine and a glass, taking the seat opposite Silver Wolf. The latter looked up, taking notice of the redness and puffiness of the former’s eyes. She looked down, sparing Kafka the embarrassment. Neither of them spoke. Kafka didn’t start her banters and Silver Wolf didn’t ask what happened or what she was feeling. They stayed there, in silence, one working with her mind occupied by her friends and the other drowning her thoughts with wine.
The days leading up to Stelle’s reprogramming were painful, to say the least. The atmosphere seemed a lot more tense than usual and even Silver Wolf’s attempt at banters could not save their dynamics. Kafka and Stelle did speak a few more times, only sparingly, as long as Silver Wolf knew. Of course, she wouldn’t know if the two still spoke in secret, but given their respective resolve, she doubted such an occurrence.
“This is the final model,” Silver Wolf said, presenting her work. In front of her were just Elio, Kafka, and Stelle. “What do you think?”
“I look kind of handsome,” Stelle said, which earned a small laugh from Silver Wolf.
She grinned. “Are we doing this now?”
“Whenever you’re ready today,” Elio instructed.
“That statement doesn’t make sense, you know,” Silver Wolf taunted. She did not fail to take notice of Kafka who hadn’t said anything during the entire ordeal. She nodded at her. “Are you ready?”
“Yes,” she said, almost too quickly.
Silver Wolf looked at the three of them. The first step involved incorporating Stelle’s current data bank in the prototype first, which meant shutting down her current form. They would deliver this to the Space Station later on. Awkwardly, she looked at Stelle and Kafka, “Do you want us to give you a moment?”
Stelle looked at Kafka for the first time in what seemed like forever, as if challenging her to say yes; as if putting the burden of the last goodbye in her hands. Kafka did not bite. “No need.”
Silver Wolf wanted to punch both of them. “Let’s get on with it then. Follow me, Stelle.”
She led them to her lab, with Stelle by her side and Kafka falling way behind, discussing something with Elio. She nudged Stelle, “Are you sure you don’t want to say goodbye?”
“We already did,” Stelle said somberly. “She said that if our relationship had been even stronger, my memories might come back on my own and disrupt the script. I don’t know what that means but I’m sure that entails not indulging on our feelings any longer. At least right now.”
Silver Wolf nodded, punching the security code of her lab. Stelle looked back to where Elio and Kafka were still talking, and said, “Just...”
“What?” Silver Wolf asked.
“Look out for her. I know you’ll say you won’t but you already do.” She patted her back smiling.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”
“You’re our good friend, after all. So, will you?”
Silver wolf swallowed all the pain that reverberated from the smile Stelle was trying to muster. They hadn’t said goodbye to each other either, but she knew they didn’t have to. She just needed to promise this one thing. “I will,” she said.
After all, it will be more painful to the one who remembers.
“How much does she remember?” Kafka asked as she stared at Stelle and Caelus.
This was a few days later, when the plan was finally put in motion. After the orchestrated attack using the Antimatter Legion, she and Kafka went in to make the script come to life. Silver Wolf minded her business, tapping away, and said, “They’ll remember you.”
“Ah. Elio said this decision will bring a lot of changes.”
“He also said it must be you who makes it, but we already know what you’ll do.”
Kafka smirked then, without any trace of any of the shadows of herself she’d been showing the past few days since her Stelle disappeared. Still, Kafka lingered a bit in front of the Stelle prototype. In her confusion, Silver Wolf asked teasingly, “Having second thoughts? Didn’t make up your mind when you got out of your bed this morning?”
“Don’t hurry me, Silver Wolf. This is a big decision.”
“Eugh, whatever, just choose Caelus and suffer.”
“Did you forget this is my decision?” Kafka said, annoyed, as she ultimately chose Stelle and tossed it to Silver Wolf.
She couldn’t helped it, she laughed, and caught the prototype. With all the data complete, Stelle’s newly materialized body popped beside them.
Kafka walked towards it, holding the data that compressed her memory from before, but also which clearly includes functions that should make her behave the same way as before. Kafka didn’t stall this time. She looked at her, and gently, she integrated the data to the model. Just like that, Stelle came to life once more. Silver Wolf watched as Kafka helped her to the ground, waiting for her to wake up. When she did, the first thing she asked was, “Kafka?”
Silver Wolf could almost feel the relief vibrating from Kafka.
“Great. You remember me.”
She looked away, only half listening to the musings Kafka was saying to the girl. When she received an alert that the Astral Express was near, she couldn’t help but ask, “How much longer do you need?”
“Just another minute,” Kafka answered. After a deep breath, she proceeded with her Spirit Whisper. Silver Wolf caught some bits of it: “Listen: Remember what you’re feeling in this moment. As long as you know in your heart where you’re heading, you’re guaranteed to see the ending of your story.” She paused, “That’s the you I like.”
She continued, “I must leave now. Listen: Someone will come to find you very soon, just go with them. You won’t remember a thing except me.”
Silver Wolf found herself smiling at this sentiment. She herself went out of her way to make Stelle remember Kafka for them, but here Kafka was, integrating that idea herself.
“When you have a chance to make a choice, make one you know you won’t regret.”
At present, as their ship flies from the Space Station and as they watch it disappear from their sight, Silver Wolf takes notice of Kafka’s ease. She expected her to be less composed than this, but this is Kafka, alright.
“I’ll go and reintroduce myself to her soon,” she says just for fun, “have her play games again. Badly.”
Kafka smiles. “She would like that.”
“For a second there I thought you’d choose Caelus.”
“I considered.”
“Really?”
Kafka sits down, facing away from the window now and leaning back. “Perhaps if I did, destiny will change.” A bitter chuckle leaves her lips, “Perhaps it won't be as cruel.”
Carefully, Silver Wolf asks, “So... why didn't you?”
“I'd be betraying my memory of her and that's the last thing I want.”
“Kafka, out of curiosity,” Silver Wolf eyes her friend, “what happens in this best future for Stelle that Elio promised?”
With her eyes closed, Kafka appears to be in deep thought for a moment, with very facade gone. Still, she is neither in distress nor completely calm. Without opening her eyes, she smiles. “She kills me.”
Silver Wolf never experienced Kafka without Stelle, but now she does.