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Gustave groaned, realizing that though not old, he was too old to sleep on a couch. As he sat up with a loud sigh, memories of the previous day flooded in, mingling with the present moment as he reached for his prosthetic arm. Was it all real? While listening to the ticking of a large standing clock, Gustave wondered whether his life had always been as peaceful as it seemed now, rather than the anxious world in which the same clock once reminded him of the little time he had left.
He hovered the prosthetic above the socket, drawing three slow breaths to steel himself for the sting he knew was coming. With a determined shove, the mechanism snapped into place, sending a sharp jolt through his body. He gasped, swallowing a curse that threatened to echo through the quiet house.
Flexing his fingers, he tested the familiar mechanics, marvelling at how long it had been since he’d felt at ease enough to remove it before sleep. He heard the gentle crackling of the electrical core within, wondering whether he would ever be in need to use it to its full potential again. Spotting his discarded shirt, he tugged it on and began buttoning it.
Then, as the quiet morning settled around him, a new sensation drifted in: the warm, inviting aroma of fresh pasties and coffee. How could that be? The city was hardly back to normal, and he was sure his pantry, just like the evening before, held nothing but cream and chocolate.
Moments later, Maelle swept into the living room, her smile wide and mischievous, balancing an unfamiliar tray piled high with treats.
- Old bear's finally up! - She teased.
- Good morning to you, too. - Gustave snorted and picked up his watch to wind it up. Tilting his head towards the tray, he asked. - Where did you find all of this?
- Oh, you know. - Maelle waved a hand, sparks fizzing as she smirked. - Been working on my party tricks.
Gustave set the watch aside. His movements were hesitant; he studied Maelle as she adjusted the tray on the coffee table. Her face was bright with lightness and pride, while Gustave shifted, tension crossing his features. Concern and uncertainty flickered in his eyes. Maelle met his wary gaze in the morning light—her brightness contrasted sharply with the faint shadow clouding his own demeanour.
- Maelle, we're not eating this. - Gustave frowned.
- What? Why not? - Her smile faded.
- We’ll eat what everyone else is. - Gustave’s voice was firm but soft, tugging up his suspenders as he spoke. - No cutting corners, no cheating shortcuts. Council opened food banks last night—we follow the rules like the rest.
Maelle exaggerated a pout. Then, with a theatrical sigh, she tossed irony over her disappointment, her voice twisting sharply again.
- Miss the expedition rations already?
- Imagine how much better a pastry’s going to taste after days of hardtack, salted meat, and dried fruit. - Gustave’s lips twitched; the memory of warm bread was almost enough to make bland rations bearable.
- Lovely. - Maelle sighed, flicking her wrist to make the tray disappear. - Fine, let’s change the topic: you were with Sophie last night. How did that go?
- Pretty good.
Just as Gustave finished speaking, confirming his words, the door to his room opened. Sophie stepped into the living room, greeting both Gustave and Maelle with a sleepy smile before slipping away to wash her face.
- “Pretty good”. - Maelle teased as a huge grin appeared on her face.
- Don’t get ideas. She only slept in my room. - Gustave blushed, fumbling. - I didn’t want her out late.
- Aha, mhm. - The girl nodded, adopting a mock-serious face.
- And I stayed here. - He pointed at the sofa.
- Yes, whatever you say
---
Later that day, when Emma finally took her well-earned break, Gustave and Maelle conspired to pull her out of the city hall office for lunch. The meal was far from memorable, but it was enough to satisfy their hunger. If there was any upside to living in a city overshadowed by looming disaster, it was the warehouses packed with emergency rations.
Emma and Gustave sat on the bench in the harbour and were drinking truly dreadful instant coffee from a thermos. They were looking at the once-ominous Monolith, which no longer showed the painful reminder of fleeting life but instead a message Maelle found appropriate: Belle Époque.
The artist herself was nearby. Her now-white hair was tossed by the wind. She leaned over the railing, protecting passersby from falling into the cold ocean water. Her gaze was fixed on the distant continent, once mysterious and full of danger. Now, it seemed very small and predictable. Maelle was already dreaming about expanding it. After all, there were so many adventures still to be had.
Meanwhile, her older siblings were also focusing on expansion, but with concern and hope intermingling in their thoughts. If there truly were no more Gommage, the city might flourish within the next few years. The prospect of population growth gave them both optimism and anxiety, aware that it would be manageable at first but could soon present challenges.
- I read somewhere - said Gustave, enthusiasm in his voice impossible to hide. - about technology that allows you to reclaim land from the sea.
- Yes, that sounds incredible, but how about we focus on something less fantastical, hm? Like connecting nearby islands with bridges. This will create space
- Oh, where is your sense of adventure? Think about it - he raised his arms and spread them like he was presenting a hanging banner. - The greatest water system in history. We would have the land we need and manage water simultaneously.
- Please, allow that I will be boring, so that you can dream. We should prioritise less risky projects.
Gustave grinned, took a brave sip of his coffee, and immediately winced as the bitterness twisted his expression.
- I had another idea! - he went on, as his sister rolled her eyes in playful anticipation of his next big plan. - Now that we can focus on more than just survival, we can make life in the city better. On the expedition, we found a giant abandoned wheel with little cabins. People used to ride it, apparently.
- Ride it where? - Emma asked, genially confused about how a giant wheel could be a valid source of transportation.
- Nowhere, they would just spin.
- What for?
- Fun, I guess. - Gustave said, chuckling at his sister’s dismissive wave, as if the idea of spinning in circles for enjoyment was utterly foreign. - But that’s just the beginning. We could even build a carousel.
- Alright, alright, let me stop you right here. - Emma raised her hand. - Maybe focus on one project for now instead of trying to invent even more ways to spin people.
Cheerful banter distracted the siblings, leaving them oblivious to the small crowd that gathered just meters away. Whispers and pointed fingers circled Maelle, but she remained lost in thought. Even as voices dipped to avoid startling her, the crowd swelled, and soon, one person finally stepped forward.
He looked only a few years older than Maelle, but the wildness in his eyes aged him beyond his years. In a flash, he closed the gap and dropped to his knees before her.
- Oh, praised be the Paintressed! - he shouted, causing Maelle to jump and shiver. - We always knew she would punish the wicked and bring back the righteous when the world healed!
His boldness sparked courage in the rest of the crowd, who pressed in, their voices rising with each step.
- Is it true you can bring back the dead?
The circle tightened, voices rising in a wave. Then, a flash. The world spun, vision blurring. Smoke curled upward, stinging her senses.
- I was always faithful!
Maelle remembered the terror of being surrounded by Neverons, utterly alone. Her fist clenched, her throat tightening. There had to be an exit somewhere. She reminded herself not to open a window in a situation like this.
- Are there any survivors?!
She tried to summon her rapier, but nothing happened. If only she could find the exit, she’d be safe. Where was Gustave? He had promised not to leave her again.
- Heal me!
She tried to scream, but no sound came. Smoke filled her lungs, drowning out the ocean’s scent. She knew she should get low to the ground in case of fire, to escape the choking haze.
- Help me!
Another shout rang out. Why were so many voices shouting? She was alone—so who pressed in on her? Why was the floor icy cold, even as fire raged nearby?
- Let me through! Move! Putain! Move!
She recognized that distant voice, someone from another life. Then, everything slipped away into darkness.
---
Maelle’s eyes fluttered open as the evening sun cast warmth across her face. She lay on something hard and uncomfortable. As she attempted to sit up, a gentle hand rested on her shoulder to hold her back.
- Easy there. - The voice seemed distant, and yet she knew the source of it was nearby. - You scared us there.
Her senses crept back, and the familiar scents of flowers, earth, and wood drifted over her. How had she ended up in the garden?
Her vision cleared, and the first thing she saw was a brown, fuzzy blur that soon resolved into a face framed by hair. Later, Maelle would laugh at herself for thinking that was the oddest way she’d ever described Gustave’s head.
She allowed herself a few more shaky breaths before finally sitting up, every muscle tense. Even as she rose, an uneasy fog clung to Maelle, her thoughts scattered by the aftertaste of panic. She tried to ground herself but felt an unsettling mix of guilt, confusion, and lingering shock from the ordeal.
- What... - the girl finally opened her mouth, her voice sounded oddly foreign to her. - What happened there?
- I was hoping you would know.- Gustave answered honestly. - Lumière had its fair share of maniacs, and I suppose they already found out that you brought them back. You fell when they surrounded you. Emma and I tried to control the situation, but it, uhm... it was... a bit trickier. And we didn’t want any violence, so... I took you here. I’d rather they not follow us home.
Maelle nodded; his words fit, but they explained so little. How could a handful of ordinary people have undone her so easily? She had faced monsters and things that haunted nightmares, yet now she was fainting at the sight of a dozen harmless townsfolk. Why?
- Maelle, is... - Gustave took a deep breath and put his left arm on the girl’s shoulder. The cold metal brought some clarity to her mind. - Is... is there something you wish to tell me?
She didn’t answer, so he pressed again, still gently.
- Rebuilding the city... how did you call it? Repainting? This has taken a toll on you, hasn’t it?
- You are wrong. - Maelle stood up to prove her point. - I’m fine.
- We both know that a lie. - Gustave’s voice was firm as he also got up to block Maelle’s path out of the garden. His eyebrows furrowed, arms crossed.
Maelle took a step back. Emma’s scolding was familiar when she lied or shirked chores, but Gustave? Even when she’d begged to join the Expedition, he hadn’t been this unyielding.
Their eyes met, neither wanting to back down.
- Merde! - Maelle turned back and moved her arms as if trying to push away flies. She sat down on the bench with a loud exhale. - What do you want me to say?!
- The truth. - Gustave took a step forward. His voice was still firm, but not judgmental. - I only want the truth, Maelle.
Maelle’s mouth twitched, torn between shutting down and letting the truth spill out. She glanced at her guardian, his gaze steady and unyielding. She felt cornered, like a wounded animal. The silence pressed in. She scraped her fingernails against the bench, a useless bid for escape.
- The truth... - She drew a shaky breath, trying not to snap. - The truth is... yes. It’s taken a toll on me, and it still can.
- What do you mean by that? - Gustave frowned.
- Painting, changing this world—it’s not something I can do without consequences. Even staying here could... might have side effects. - She spoke, knowing she was bending the truth just enough for Gustave not to notice. At least not yet.
He took a deep breath, knelt beside her, and gently took her hands, stilling her restless fingers.
- Is it possible for you to, uhm... travel? You know... between here and... there? - Gustave spoke slowly, searching for words as he himself didn’t fully understand the situation.
- That’s impossible. As soon as I leave my... my father will surely destroy this world. Everything will Gommage.
Gustave exhaled, his eyes wandering as if the flowers might offer solace. But, as always, they stood indifferent to human worries.
- Maelle... - he started gently, knowing that what he might later say - promise me, that if anything goes wrong, you will at least consider going back
- Just like you promised me to run when death comes?! - She again stood up. Her eyes swelled with tears at the painful memory, there, on the windy cliffs. He could have escaped.
- Maelle...
- No, Gustave, I’m tired of people telling me what’s better for me and taking away my choices! - he could have been saved in so many ways, and it was chosen for her that he would leave her. Then everything would be alright. - If what I’m doing is a mistake, let me make it. This is my choice!
He stayed silent. Unable to speak or perhaps unable to find an answer.
- You don’t know what it's like outside! - tears were falling down her face, her voice shaken, her body trembling with emotions.- I’m trapped in a body that all it does is bring me pain. My mother hates me, my father left me when I needed him most, and my sister is fighting her own battle. I have no future there! Here I can live! Live, Gustave! I don’t want to escape hardship or abandon my family; I just... I just want to have a chance!
Maelle’s breath came in ragged bursts, her chest heaving as if she’d just run a race. Gustave stayed on his knees, unable to meet her eyes, his gaze fixed on the cold stone below. Maelle’s emotions spilled over in tears, while Gustave’s ran so deep that even crying would bring no relief.
At last, he rose, brushing off his trousers with his real hand. His mouth set in a thin line, he drew a steadying breath and placed his hands on Maelle’s shoulders, lowering himself to meet her gaze.
- I’m… sorry. You are right, I don’t know how you feel. Truth be told, I was never in your position, and I don’t know whether anyone has ever been. I want you to thrive. No, let me finish, please. - he raised his hand, seeing she already opened her mouth to speak again. - I hear you, and I saw you grow up. You even told me that Lumière never felt like home to you, and I imagine you would say the same about your home outside. The path forward must involve accepting those two parts of you, not outright rejecting one of them.
- But I can’t! I never want to be Alicia again! - That childish cry reminded Gustave that, beneath all the battles and impossible choices, Maelle was still a child—one who might need him now more than ever.
- Alicia is you. - he said, voice as gentle as he could manage, afraid that one wrong word might shatter her. - There are things I hate about myself—memories, flaws, choices, mistakes. I wish things were different. But accepting them is part of healing, part of learning to love yourself.
- But I can’t leave!
- We will figure it out, together. You are never alone, Maelle, and you will never be.
He drew her into a tight embrace. At first, she stiffened, resisting the comfort, but gradually she let herself lean in and relax. Gustave felt her tears soak his shirt, soon joined by the quiet sound of her sobbing.
- I promise I will not be doing anything behind your back. I will not be making any choices for you. But you also have to promise me something.
Maelle sniffed and leaned her head back to look at him.
- What’s that?
- It’s time to stop painting.
The girl felt cold sweat break out on her back.
- But I promised, I will-
- No more promises like that, Maelle. This world is beautiful, and you have already done enough. Allow us to handle the rest and help you now, alright?
She took a deep sigh before answering, knowing she might not be fully truthful here, but perhaps... perhaps she will try.
- Alright.
Gustave offered her a gentle smile before hugging her again. He soon let her go and handed over his handkerchief, so she could finally dry her eyes with something other than his shirt.
Soon, Maelle let herself smile—her trademark smirk returning. She tossed Gustave his handkerchief and decided to tease him, just a little.
- ...learning to love yourself, huh? That’s cheesy even for you.
- What can I say? I’m a bit of an old man, huh? - he laughed and nudged her.
- Yes, grandpa, let’s get you to bed.
And so they started walking along the path they both knew so well.