Chapter Text
Adrian begs with his eyes for her to say something.
Nova is not surprised that even he can't make her feel comfortable enough to speak, but it's not enough to be disconcerting. After all, he already knows her alter ego, even though Leroy and the rest of her allies have already denied it (how else would she be getting out of prison?), and there's also that underlying mistrust between them. Before, Nova could trust that his feelings for her would be strong enough to keep her alive, but she was nearly sentenced to death. She almost died. Just for pursuing her ideals. There, under the care of the Renegades. The Council was going to let Genissa kill her, she was going to kill her in front of everyone.
So it's not Nova's business if the people around her feel bad for not hearing her speak; it's similar to the twenty days she spent in prison (was it really only twenty days?).
Nova looks over her shoulder at the Penitentiary; the guards hold her by the sides to prevent her from trying to escape, although that would be illogical now that it turns out she really is innocent—that she isn't really Nightmare, the young and infamous anarchist of the new generation. Nova returns to the life she invented and leaves her dear Uncle Ace behind. They must escort her to the bridge; Adrian's presence isn't enough. There must be at least one or two people in the Penitentiary (or the entire Renegade system) who believe she really is Nightmare. Statistically likely, right? One of the guards clears his throat as they board the ship, he approaches Adrian, and tells him what they realized earlier that day, when the paperwork came up and Nova was released from their custody.
On purpose, Nova looks away to the sea to avoid seeing the pained expression on Adrian's face—the second time he does it since she rejected his gifts. Nova's eyes drift to her wrist, still bearing the uneven skin tone left by years of wearing her bracelet. During her days of silence, she missed her father's latest invention in ways she could never have imagined. She sits down, and no one puts handcuffs on her feet or hands, which reaffirms her freedom.
Adrian places the flowers and the belt together on the seat beside him. Now that he knows, he'll blame himself for her silence and be so damn polite and kind that he'll end up exasperating Nova beyond belief. She wants none of that.
Nova glanced at her wrist again, determined not to meet Adrian's gaze, but he cleared his throat and said the last thing that would make her respond. “I give your bracelet to Magpie. I'm sorry. I shouldn't do. But I'm sure she turned it into HQ.”
Nova shook her head. She knew that the little girl did not give it to them. She'd have to take care of that before… before she went straight back to the Penitentiary because Nova didn't know what other fate (or end) awaited her. As far as she knew, she's still the original Nightmare, and uncle Ace would still be in Cragmoor until the day of his execution; she was going to get him out of there, no matter what, even if she had to do it on her own.
Although she still has to reach land and make sure this isn't all a trap to extract information from her.
She sincerely hopes it isn't. The Renegades—so perfect, neat and correct— wouldn't attempt any form of torture, but if Genissa managed to become Nova's executioner, Nova can expect that Genissa asked for the favor of torturer her if that's the case; the lack of powers doesn't make Genissa any less dangerous, that much is clear.
The boat sets off, land appearing on the horizon. Nova feels a few drops of saltwater on her face, the wind ruffles her hair, and although this is what she's dreamed of since her alter ego was revealed, Nova takes a moment to savor it—just in case it's the last time she's free. Perhaps it's a figment of her tired mind, unable to sleep, brought on by isolation in prison. Perhaps she'll be able to see her parents and Evie again, even if it's just for a second.
Adrian shifted in his seat. Nova's eyes widened in surprise; she hadn't realized she'd closed them.
“Are you okay?” Adrian asked, but only received a blank, intense stare from Nova.
No sound escaped her. Sometimes a few sounds escaped from her during the day. Nova learned the prison's secret language within five days of being locked up, because some part of her so desperately craved interaction with other humans (she'd never been all alone, not even as a child); so Nova absorbed everything she could from the interactions in the prison dining room. The brief interrogation she had with Adrian was her last attempt to maintain her innocence and also the last time she uttered many words.
The words that, like her hours of sleep, faded slowly, and by the time she realized it, she didn't miss them as much as she'd thought. Now Nova was returning to those who had justifiably imprisoned her, but that didn't mean she should pretend nothing had happened. People don't return from Cragmoor, and Nova being the first wouldn't make her an exception.
“I have another gift, if you're interested,” Adrian announced after waiting, in vain, for Nova to reply. He was in for a few disappointments if he thought anything would make Nova speak again. “In your new weapons belt. Take a look.”
He held out the belt, but she took it hesitantly. Before, she wouldn't have hesitated, certain that she always had the advantage to win, but now that it turned out that it's not like that anymore, she had the right to doubt. Nova didn't even know the story that proved her innocence, so she had no control over her narrative; she hopes it's anything too complicated. Then she touched a metal mask.
Nova was already tensing up, ready to strike Adrian and seize control of the ship once she'd taken down the captain, who surprisingly greeted her as she boarded. But as her finger ran over the simple, sturdy design, she realized it wasn't her mask, Nightmare's mask.
Adrian explained why each patrol now had gas masks. This also involved a good number of apologies on behalf of the entire Renegade Council, Captain Chromium, and Dread Warden. Nova felt a shiver run down her spine as she turned her head toward the icy prison atop the cliff, only to confirm that she was moving away from the island with its treacherous rocks and the isolation within. Adrian noticed and offered her his coat; Nova couldn't refuse.
“They… they didn't do anything to you, did they? No one hurt you, right?” Nova didn't answer again, still holding the metal mask, her gaze rising to the shore, which seemed to draw closer with every heartbeat.
How could Adrian trust Nova to respond to something like that when he said he never wanted to see Nova again? She tried to picture the person Adrian had seen on the pier earlier, several days after what was supposed to be their last meeting. Nova found she must have dark circles under her eyes, look disheveled, and even thinner than before; the food wasn't the best, and the exercise was limited, but otherwise, she still looked the same. The only change is that she didn't feel the same way anymore.
“I can't imagine what it must have been like to be there for so many,” Adrian commented, his gaze lowered. You have no idea, Nova thought, not playing much attention. “You know, I always hoped you were innocent, despite everything that happened. For a moment, I was so glad you weren't Nightmare, and when the real one told us everything she did to frame you, I could finally breathe again.”
The story began with him accepting his own mistake, the same one the Renegades had: all the evidence against Nova was circumstantial, all because Nightmare herself had mocked in front of Adrian and his team, pointing out how easy it was to plant a decoy and completely catch them on. Nightmare is Narcissa Cronin. Everything fell into place then: the resentment over what happened with the Detonator and the Librarian, Narcissa's grandfather; the funhouse full of mirrors through which Narcissa could travel as much as she would like to and that's how she entered in Adrian's house and stole the Talisman—that's how she also entered the Artifacts Department at HQ whenever she wanted. The red-haired girl who moves among mirrors is obviously responsible for everything else, due to her entry into the black market and the connections with the Anarchist that Narcissa inherited from Gene Cronin. Oh! And the helmet was crucial in freeing Nova from prison.
Of course Nova wanted to know how she was freed from her sentence, but Narcissa assuming Nightmare identify? No, that's not true. It's more than true— it's unthinkable. Why did she take the blame? They share a past, some things that belong only to them, but why is she returning to Nova now that everything could be irreparably ruined? If the Renegades catch Narcissa these days… If Narcissa is relentlessly pursued by the Renegade Council now—
Nova takes one last quick look back. The massive prison walls will never again enclose her, and the guard towers vanish behind the eerie mist. It did nothing to distract her gaze. Ace is still there—trapped, plunged into even deeper isolation, awaiting his death. Nova, of course, will not allow it. That thing with Narcissa must wait. Nova must pull herself together and save him. Maybe she couldn't save Evie, but she can save her uncle, can't she? Nova never stopped being Nightmare, just as she was never Insomnia, nor a McLain; she was always a Artino who must rescue the only family she has left. That's her new ideal. The prodigy society can wait, and non-prodigies are not a priority, not even for the Renegades themselves. Narcissa has gone from being on her radar to haunting her thoughts.
The lighthouse on the tip of land then appeared, still distant, taking with it the tranquility Nova had managed to find in that short journey. At least, in the middle of the ocean she had a good chance of surviving; on land, there in the streets of Gatlon City, she no longer knew who to trust. For now, Nova could count on only one ally, but to rescue Ace, she would have to devise the best plan. She had to be the best to save him, or she would lose him forever.
Nova felt dizzy when they reached the choppy waves; fog enveloped them because it was so early, but that didn't seem to stop some people from waiting for her return, whoever they were.
She had the tiny wish that Leroy, Honey, and Phobia would be there; the closest thing to a family she had. Her mind tricked her into thinking, imagining, that Ruby and Oscar would be there; Nova shook her head because it was impossible, but she couldn't stop hoping. Danna might be there too. Or Max. It would be incredible if Max were there. And to complete the fantasy, the Captain would be there as a civilian alongside Simon Westwood.
That will never happen now.
Nova knew she was back in Gatlon City when the skyscrapers greeted her, the sun rising over the rooftops. Adrian got up first to help her off the ship, and when he did, Nova noticed a bulge on his wrist. Although she wasn't interested in him in the same way as before, she couldn't hide her anxious concern. She took his hand and confronted him. Adrian must have seen that as some kind of sign.
“It's, uh, a tattoo,” he quickly explained. “I'm trying… a new drawing technique.”
If Nova had words from him, right now, she could have investigated further. Clearly, he wasn't telling her the important part of all this, but she would do later. Nova hoped he would.
As they walked ashore, Nova thought she spotted a head of red hair among them, since there was no one she knew; but when she tried to hurry to catch up, she met only unfamiliar faces.
A non-prodigy administrative Renegade was waiting for her to sign a document guaranteeing her return after the liberation and confirming she was completely unharmed. There was also a dockworker who had greeted her when she disembarked, and press. At least a dozen people. Adrian did as expected: he protected her while guiding her to a car loaned by the Council to take her wherever she wanted to go; but accepting that meant staying with Adrian, and right now she needed to separate from him to think, to truly feel like herself.
She completely ignored the shouts of ‘Insomnia! Just one question, Nova!’. She avoided thinking about what would be said in the coming days about Adrian and her, the girl suspected of being a new-generation Anarchist; and they weren't far off the mark. Change would happen now, or it wouldn't happen at all— if she had to force it, she would. Society as it is must change.
Her walk to the parking lot was interrupted by someone getting out of a taxi at the curb, shouting Nova's name and hurrying toward her. He called her name familiarly, but she tensed nonetheless; she didn't know him at all. Nova was about to take him down, to use one of her modified weapons, but she soon realized she didn't have any, and the man took her hands, relieved to see her.
“I always knew I'd see you again, Nova!” He looked like he was about to cry in front of her.
“Excuse me, who are…?”
“Oh, Nova,” to avoid Adrian's question, the man put an arm around Nova's shoulders and hugged her tightly. “I didn't know what would become of me if I lost you too.”
Nova understood before Adrian did; this was her uncle.
She had to play along, what other choice did she have? Nova reluctantly pulled away from Adrian; hugging a stranger wasn't the best option.
“It's good to see you're fine,” her uncle said before letting go and… giving her a quick kiss on the top of her head. “You must be Adrian. Everhart, right? I'm Nova's uncle. Peter McLain, a pleasure.”
The man greeted him enthusiastically, saying something about having heard so much about Adrian, about the friends his niece had made in the Renegades. His proximity to Nova made her skin tingle; it would be easy to block the threat, but that wasn't her purpose. She had to participate in this game whether she wanted to or not. Her apparent uncle said he had tried to visit her in prison, but their papers had been destroyed in the explosion of their house—how could he confirm that he was Nova McLain's uncle? He regretted the image that had been projected, that she was alone because her real life was a lie; he also regretted having left her alone all this time. He apologized for making the world believe that he had abandoned her and that the rumor about Nova being Nightmare was true.
Nova just shook her head, but still had no word to offer. Adrian was watching her closely, if Nova trusted anyone enough to speak again, it had to be her uncle, right? The one who had cared for her since her family's death; but nothing came of her. She hugged the man again, buried her face on his shoulder, and waited for him to say nothing more. When they separated, the man continued talking to Adrian, who had let go of his mistrust.
‘She always knew she wanted to be a Renegade!’ For someone who barely knew her, the man knew how to play his part. He made Adrian apologize one more, saying that she deserved better, and of course she knew it. She would change everything so that no one would ever have to go through the same thing again. The man dismissed him, as if he were truly protecting his niece from everyone else.
He promised to take her home, but Nova had never had a place to call home after losing her parents. That would soon change.
Although Adrian, being Adrian, had to give all that renegade speech to deal with the consequences of the damage they themselves caused, the man claimed they would handle it, and that was all it took for Adrian to say goodbye.
“Will I see you at HQ?” Nova wasn't sure if she should give him more false hope, but it might be helpful later, so she nodded absently.
The man led her to the same taxi, they got into the back seat, and as the door closed, Nova turned to him with an expression that dared him to give her any reason to knock him out.
“That was my best performance ever, don't you think?” Nova raised her hand, urging him to put on a better show; she was determined to knock him out if necessary. “Hey, calm down. Even as your uncle, you should know I prefer to sleep on my own, thanks,” Nova gritted her teeth. “At least we just filled the gaps in your story with our act; that way, even fewer people will doubt you. You're welcome.”
Nova glared at him, still not answering the important question. Before she could put her hand to his face, the tinted window rolled down, and the taxi driver turned out to be someone Nova knew well.
‘Leroy!’ For the first time in almost a month, Nova allowed herself to feel relieved and happy to have someone trusted by her side again.
“How are you doing, little Nightmare?”