Chương 88: Part 70: Let her Cook

Nestra floated in the center of the rotating planets that represented her main abilities. She remembered when she'd just awoken and those had been balls over a puddle. Now the planets were, well, definitely not planets, but they were as large as houses. Their quiet dance never stopped above a chasm of deep waters representing her mana reserves. It was difficult to be sure, but she believed she already had several times what the average human C-class could conjure up.

Her unique skills like danger sense, precision, or momentum were links between those planets visible as golden threads shimmering under an unseen light. Sadly, there were no new threads to add for now, though she had a feeling they would all progress soon. Aszhii were generalists in the sense they were expected to stand alone, but they also clearly had their preferences and hers was that of an agile and disruptive fighter. An interesting observation was the power sphere: it was maxed out, so to speak.

The planet representing her physical might was as large as it was going to be, and now all energy that entered it would be sent to nearby spheres instead at a loss. Her body simply couldn't go further without a fundamental change.

B-class people were notoriously quiet on ascension details, not least because they had to work extra hard to get them, but there were widely acknowledged texts and one of them mentioned that mana infused the body of the C-class until a change was forced: the overload was directed towards a specific region. The path to B-class was to remake the first organ. By A-class, all the body would have been remade. Made her wonder why Shinran hadn't made himself taller or something.

The world was lucky he didn't have a massive ego. In any case, her progress was fast, so fast she might reach B-class in only a year. It made her worry since Sereth had confirmed that would lead to her exile, a travel back to her home world apparently. That was a concern for future Nestra though. For now, she observed that her mind speed and magic regen were lagging behind which was weird because she didn't feel slow in her head, and she was certainly not running out of mana ever.

Maybe she ought to consider larger spells to dent those reserves a bit more. Satisfied, Nestra left the room. Her core room only showed the usual shadow and electric cores, the latter one of good size to show her deep understanding. The more she thought about it and the more she believed she could probably unlock affinities she'd already encountered, but here again her body was too weak for now. Her resistances were definitely lagging behind.

Nestra visited the resistance corridor last, noting some improvement on the cold and sensory defenses which was nice, but again, she was not killing enough weird stuff. She needed more diversity in her murder diet. At least she didn't have to, for example, burn herself to improve fire resistance. By Riel would that suck absolute ass. Killing the creatures holding those resistances was so much more fun. Maybe her toxin resistance would allow her to eat any poisonous plants she wanted in the future.

She could only hope.

The crisis wound down over the following day. Although she felt like she'd been ran over by a truck in both of her bodies, Nestra still offered her help to Ragnarok but apparently the situation in Beacon wasn't urgent anymore. Ragnarok told her to rest and that she would be summoned later during the week. That would have left her time to recover and browse the news but her family had other ideas. They expected her for breakfast.

She showed up with obvious shadows under her eyes while the rest of them were well-rested — even Helena. Ulysses' sprightly smile was particularly annoying. Claire was completely unhurt for once.

"Would you like some coffee?" Her mom asked Nestra.

"Ugh, yeah why not?" They looked nervous. They felt nervous. Nestra planted herself on a couch. There were fresh burritos, directly delivered from a chain she wasn't familiar with. They tasted nice. The coffee was good too. After an exchange of glances, all the others started to browse datasheets. Nestra was still unclear about what was going on.

"Vega is dead. The elder brother," her dad finally said after a while.

"Oh no," Claire said.

"Wasn't married to… what was her name?"

"Trista. They have two children," her mom replied.

"I'll send a message," Ulysses added.

"I know the younger sister." They wrote a little bit and Nestra remembered what this was. It was the first time she attended though. It was the 'wake'. Everyone would check who had died. She made a few verifications herself, just to be sure she wouldn't be caught knowing something only Crescent had learned.

"Hmmm. Eunhye's dead, from the Jade Consortium."

"Oh, we know darling. We helped the Soothing Venom on their way out," her mom said. Her father nodded.

"They will reward us."

"Not now, Hector."

"Yes, sorry. I regret to say that Laura Rena is still alive." There were a few dark chuckles. Laura Rena was a famous raider and pop star. Dad hated her songs, which were often played at Threshold's political rallies — what with her being a local star.

"Everyone from my school is fine!" Helena said. The rest of the family nodded at this piece of good news with similar gestures.

"Stop doing the same thing at the same time," Aunt Claire said.

"It creeps me out. You're like clones or something," she said without bite.

"Wait until you learn where my genetic material came from," Ulysses replied, but the joke made Nestra uncomfortable. Despite the early attempt at humor, the mood grew more somber when the B-classes recognized a few names and made notes to offer condolences. Nestra didn't know, or remember, most of those people. She was missing ten years of parties and networking events, Instead, she used the Palladian's media-monitoring AI to list all the obituaries and almost gasped when the completed sheet returned.

It was surprisingly long but more importantly, the list was extremely top heavy. Thirty-seven B-class raiders had died, making it the deadliest year in recent history. Millions of people lived in Threshold so the loss of thirty-seven might have seemed like a mosquito sting, but Nestra knew better. B-class were the pillars of the community, those who fought, those who raided the hardest spots. All of them were deadly and hard to kill. Lose too many of them and Threshold would hang by a thread named Shinran.

They were also not just bottom-of-the-barrel freshly hatched B-class babies like Ulysses: the army had lost a colonel and a major. The butcher's bill was heavy and there were going to be questions. She had a feeling heads were going to roll. The government was already in full damage control mode however, and the profits from the tide and kaiju remains would go towards a one month rent forgiveness for everyone who applied. Damage to the city also remained minor… then this begged the question.

Where had everyone died? She went through a few official announcements, confirming that a B-class tank had perished covering his artillery group against the kaiju's water spell. There were a few other such victims but most of the dead were of unknown cause. Several memories coalesced in Nestra's brain. Ragnarok had called Threshold the City that Guards the Gate. Could it be that the Beacon had some sort of super portal under it? A-class, maybe? But then it didn't explain the need for so much reinforcement.

Not unless A-class portals had their own rules. Hmmm. She could continue thinking about it or she could accept she'd get the answer very soon. From her couch, Helena hailed her. The two left in the roadster to grab some lunch since no one was in any mood to cook.

"Hey, Nes. I just had an idea."

"I'm already terrified," Nestra deadpanned.

"Come on. It's about your little secret. I was just watching some vids and I had a revelation. So hear me out…"

Nestra knocked on Sereth's door with much more apprehension than she was willing to let on. He opened in his human shape, his face scrunched in strong disapproval. Only Helena looked relaxed.

"Come on in," he said. They moved into his warehouse. Helena looked around, then nodded to herself which made Sereth even more defensive. Nestra switched to her true form and, after a second of hesitation, Sereth followed suit.

"Wow damn dude you're a unit," Helena said with some enthusiasm. Sereth's lack of response didn't seem to dampen her mood.

"For the record," he hissed, "I strongly disapprove of this meeting. I only agreed because things have spiraled out of control now that the lines between those who know and those who do not has grown into… more of a spectrum. I was never supposed to be involved. I am also regretting not killing Mazingwe and Valerian on the spot."

"I would never have forgiven you," Nestra informed him, completely seriously.

"I know, and I chose our happiness over your safety. And you might yet pay the price for it." The moser dangerous entity on the planet by an order of magnitude focused his glare on Helena.

"And so could Siobhan Stibbons. And that would make me very, very angry."

"I would never endanger your squeeze, void bro!" Helena chirped. She brandished her fist. Void energy covered it like a glove. Her control had improved! It was still probably uncomfortable. Any other human would be screaming at a stump by now. Sereth leaned forward, ears twitching with interest.

"Remarkable," he whispered in Aszhii.

"So you believe me right? We're the void trio! The only one on Earth!" After a few seconds of hesitation, Sereth fist bumped Helena with a void-infused hand as well, making sure not to hurt her.

"Very well, I believe you," he replied with amusement.

"You humans and your pack-bonding…"

"We're actually here about that," Nestra commented.

"Ah, yes. Helena, you had… something you wanted to share with me?" Sereth asked.

"Right!" The young woman slammed her hands together, suddenly in serious mode.

"So we have a problem with Nestra's public identity. Basically, just her going Mask set off a timer that will inevitably result in her real identity being revealed. It's pretty much inevitable at this point. Unless she completely disappears I mean. Someone, somewhere, is going to figure out the truth."

"Thank you for voicing my deepest fear," Sereth said without malice. He was back to being worried. Find this and other great novels on the author's preferred platform. Support original creators!

"Yes, but, but, and that is the thing, what if we manipulate public perception accordingly? Like ok, the first gens will want blood but they're not the only decision makers. Hell, they're even a minority at this point. Public perception is ripe for a shift, so… what if we could turn the reveal into something… well not necessarily good, but neutral?" Sereth's ears froze.

"What?"

"Look, when we get serial killers reveals, most of the time it's 'oh he was always so polite'."

"I'm not sure I like this comparison," Nestra muttered.

"Hush lemme finish. So hey, what if instead there was already a public perception, and then the alien reveal is added on top of that? Then it's no longer 'oh we have an extraterrestrial in our midst' but instead, it's 'hey you know that celebrity, turns out they're actually an alien!"

"What does it change?" Sereth asked with obvious confusion.

"Everything! Nestra wouldn't be an alien first, she'd be a celebrity who happens to have a secret, and the secret is that she's not fully human!" Sereth was looking more confused by the second.

"Errr. Is it a pack bonding thing I do not understand?"

"It's half that and half humans are self-centered creatures with low attention span," Nestra said.

"And when the reveal happens, people will want to know things. They will search for more about Crescent, then her track record will come under scrutiny. Damn I like that word it makes me sound so smart. So yeah, her deeds will make her more human, more relatable."

"Deeds? Like… tax evasion?" Sereth asked.

"Nestra?" Helena said with horror.

"I didn't declare my first loot since raiding wasn't legal for me, remember?"

"Oooh. Well I think you cleared everything with Ragnarok anyway, right? So yeah. Not the tax evasion. Her new show." Nestra felt an uncomfortable glare fall upon her shoulder, but before she could reply, her ears picked up footsteps outside. Fearless, noisy footsteps. Only one person. Very light. Stib entered the warehouse carrying a bag of food, with two leeks jutting out of the paper. She frowned when she saw the small gathering.

"Have I happened upon some sort of conspiracy?" she asked with a terrible accent.

"Yes," Helena said.

"No," Nestra said. The two exchanged a glance.

"Yes…" Nestra finally admitted.

"They are planning on running a show to make Nestra famous so when her true nature is discovered, people focus on her celebrity status instead," Sereth summarized with a guarded voice.

"Wait. That's brilliant," Stibbs replied after some consideration.

"It is?" Sereth asked.

"See? See?" Helena exclaimed.

"But what sort of shows? I know Crescent has one hot video and she's also in the kaiju highlights."

"I am?" Nestra asked. Stibbs waved her question away.

"You're always the last one to know about yourself. It's uncanny."

"Hey! I was busy. Also who searches for themselves on the internet? That's very pretentious."

"No, for you it's a matter of survival," Stibbs admonished.

"Now tell me what sort of shows."

"A cooking show," Nestra said.

"Hmm," Stibbs said in the manner of friends who want to remain diplomatic and supportive after their buddy suggested the most fucking stupid thing ever.

"How would that work?" Nestra told her.

"Huh. Hm. It… could work. We'd have to see. I'd like to see it as well, actually. So I assume you have a portal-approved radiation-resistant setup ready? So your image doesn't come up as a freshly regurgitated chicken soup?"

"Well…"

"That was the next step!" Helena said.

"More work for me," Stibbs grumbled.

"Nasharis, you prepare dinner."

"Of course," Sereh grumbled, ears drooping. Nestra turned around. Sereth was having Stibbs call him beloved in Aszhii? Kinky as fuck. And excellent blackmail material.

"Please don't tell the coven…" Sereth begged. But Nestra would show no mercy. ***" Hey man check this out!" The unread message blinked insistently in Alden's auged vision. He sighed. It wasn't like he wasn't busy, but Yang did always manage to find the best videos. And he could use a break. With care, he deactivated the drone until everything was safely stacked.

"Hey, I'm taking ten," he told his boss. The man nodded. So long as Alden finished all his tasks on time, the boss wouldn't ride his ass, and Alden had proven he was reliable." What do you got?" he replied.

"Remember the Garden Square gleam?" Alden did. It had been one of the better footages of the tide. Maybe top ten.

"Yeah."

"The gleam, Crescent, made a cooking show." Really? Anything to chase fame, he guessed.

"Man that's kind of limp don't you think?"

"Nah man you gotta see it. Trust me. Have I ever failed you?" Fair enough. It was just… five minutes of his corpo life he wouldn't get back. He opened the vid, showing the tall Mask facing the camera in some portal world, from the weird colors. It looked like the bottom of a canyon. She'd placed a mana-powered heater alongside some really old-fashioned cooking utensils on a white cloth. There wasn't a single robot to be seen. It looked a little quaint.

Only the fact it was taking place in a portal world and the one presenting was in full battle regalia complete with a huge sword prevented him from giving up. Damn but was that bitch tall. It was almost menacing when she leaned forward. Abyssal eyes peered into his soul.

"Welcome to Crescent Cooking. Today we're going to learn how to make Guardian Crawfish Etouffee, a traditional dish from Louisiana." Alden was pretty sure it was in the south of the US. He was also pretty sure the place had been mostly abandoned after the Incursion. Crescent's voice was strange: deep, a little hissy, vaguely threatening. The fact she was so focused helped him focus as well and he found himself interested despite the fact he could barely nuke a taco in his microwave.

"There are several ways to make it but we're going to be using my favorite — because it's quick and dirty and only requires one pan. First, we're going to need the Cajun Holy Trinity: onion, celery, bell pepper." Alden watched her slice and dice the three into tiny cubes with the sort of control that showed practice. With the stupid gleam speed, she was even faster than a robot.

"Rather than doing a proper roux, we'll just add our flour directly to the mixture until it's nice and brown. For the broth I'm just going to use fresh water and mix the seafood broth in. If you don't have any, chicken broth is fine too." The video skipped the waiting times, although Crescent explained them properly. She ended up with some reddish sauce thing that would probably stain clothes forever.

"And now, we're going to get the crawfish. Fresh is best." Crescent stood up. The angle of the camera didn't change when she walked away towards the middle of the canyon and the edge of what appeared to be a shallow lake. Pausing, grabbed a stone and threw it in the placid waters. Something burst out of it faster than he could blink.

"Holy Riel." It was a shell-covered monster the size of a small bus with claws large enough to bisect a fridge. The combat that followed was fast and absolutely brutal. The woman barely used any fencing that he could see. All of her strikes were brutish and dreadfully effective. After maybe twenty seconds of screeches and violence beyond description, the tall gleam decapitated the beast in one fell blow. She then dragged a pre-cracked, pre-severed claw back to the cooking spot along with the head.

Her voice was just as flat as before. She wasn't even winded.

"Alright. The beast being larger than a normal crawfish, I prefer to use the tender claw meat, but there is also my secret ingredient." She cracked the skull open with her bare fingers like it was a beer bottle and not the armored front of a tank guardian, then she scooped some gray matter she dropped in the pan.

"The brain is fat and nutritious, and it's also remarkably clean so I personally always add it to thicken the sauce a bit, but you don't have to do it. If you can't get your own fresh guardian meat then store-bought is fine. Since the portions are a little large, we're going to cut the meat into manageable slices and bring the sauce to a simmer, but you can skip this step if your crawfish is puny, or already cooked…" Alden was so invested by now he couldn't stop watching.

The insane gleam ended with basmati rice, then the video skipped ahead again. The bottom of the canyon was now littered with the corpses of dozens of large flying monsters that looked like they'd been pulled apart limb by limb. Crescent completely refused to acknowledge their existence.

"Time's up! Last taste and you can season more if necessary, then all that's left is to plate and serve. I recommend adding some sliced green onions on top or, if you prefer, coriander or parsley are also ok for that nice fresh bite. As for me I'll be saving the rest of the pot for my friends as this recipe can easily serve four hungry people. That's it! You can find the written recipe in the comments, and I'll see you next time for some kaiju turtle soup. Eat well."

The video abruptly cut with Crescent jumping to intercept another flying thing with a blade sweep. Alden was baffled. He wasn't sure what to think about the whole thing except it was kind of a joke and a little bit impressive, and also it made him want to taste that thing. Crawfish meat was pretty cheap though, right? Frozen? Hell, he had never used the cooking robot his mom had gifted him last time.

"So what do you think?" Yang sent him. Bastard must have timed the video or something.

"Looking good, but you made me hungry and my shift doesn't end for another hour, you bastard."

"You can just… this Crescent has no sponsored products listed! Fifty thousand views in one day, no sponsor ah. War gleams like her sibei jialat for business things bro. Confirm cannot make it. Maybe she will hire me?" Alden rolled his eyes at Yang's antics.

"Hey, it's her first video. You need to build a following before the marketing departments notice you, come on. Say, you think I could do it with shrimp instead?"

"What, the dish? LMAOOOOO You? Making food? She got you bro. You're cooked. She cooked you."

"I'm going to make it and it's going to taste great."

"Ay sure bro."

"Mayor Kim is at the stage where he's throwing sparkles in your face and making a lot of noise, like your kid trying to hide the broken window, you know?" The man laughed, an easy sound. The journalist joined him with a few chuckles before he continued. Nestra decided to run on autopilot instead so she could listen. Liam Hunnigan, the first serious contender to Kim in a long while.

Oh, the media loved to find champions of the eleventh hour to drive engagement, to pretend the elections were not already a done deal, but something was different this time. Stage presence played a major role in selecting a leader. Hunnigan's charisma, his square jaw and baby blue eyes possessed the sort of easy allure that put people at ease, made him feel approachable. The sort of guy you wouldn't mind having a beer with because he was such a good time.

"Look, the city's response was fantastic, as usual. Our army stopped the tide and the errant monsters were cleared in under thirty-six hours. It's a great achievement! No other fortress on Earth can boast this sort of numbers. So now you'll see Kim wave all of those in your face to make you forget the real, real question, which is?" He waited for a bit. The journalist didn't reply. Nestra looked down at her screen: she looked a bit confused, but soon both laughed at the same time.

"It's not a test!" Hunnigan joked.

"But the real question is: why did it happen in the first place? Why were all the guilders outside the walls unprotected, forcing the army to sally out to save them?" Oi. Well, he had a point but… tides couldn't be predicted. Except for this one so he had a point, because it was 'artificial'.

"I'll tell you why. Short explanation: because of greed. Irresponsible greed. Mayor's Kim revelation of his grand space program didn't happen at this precise moment because it was the best moment. It was a deliberate publicity stunt bought by taxpayers."

"The opposition opposed the project every step of the way, so the announcement would have happened sooner without your party's interference," the journalist noted.

"No no, information on this project was deliberately held back from the public. The mayor's office didn't have to wait until final approval to start communicating, right? Did they wait until construction started to advertise the Izumi powerplant? I don't think so.

Let's face it, it was a publicity stunt, just like the medals and decorations, the rent forgiveness, the ceremonies are all part of a great game designed to distract you, to distract us, from the fact the rushed clearing led to a tide, and that tide caused the deaths of an estimated seven hundred and fifty-three people. Those were preventable deaths.

Those people, some of whom dedicated their life to the city — particularly Colonel Tseng — those people would still be with us if the clearing hadn't been hurried but no, it was more important to satisfy the greed of the few…"

"Are you saying that the clearing caused the tide?" the journalist asked, her voice incisive. She was trying to catch him leaning into a conspiracy theory, except it wasn't one this time: Soothing Venom had caused the tide. Awkward.

"I am saying that the tide wouldn't have been so destructive with proper preparations. Instead, thousands of guilders were caught with their pants down. I spoke to a few of my friends in the military who mentioned it was touch-and go for a few sectors. Our military budget is almost twenty percent of our GDP. Touch and go should be a thing of the past." Nestra frowned. It was twice now that he presented the army as having to rescue the guilders which was utter bullshit.

The guilders had felled the kaiju and taken the brunt of the attack. There had always been a symbiosis between the two groups. Out of curiosity, she checked Hunnigan's platform. The website greeted her with a blazing slogan: 'Take the future back in your hands!' She read a bit more. Yeah the guy was strongly against the guilds. Nestra thought it was cool but the truth was that guilds existed for a reason: to thrive off human's self-interest for maximum results.

Guilds were the unhinged, cutthroat back of the coin to the more orderly army. They were tolerated so the ambitious and aggressive could thrive and share that success with the city, placating them. Placating powerful raiders remained supremely important. Especially when those raiders were capable of leveling an entire block with their bare hands. The hoi polloi might not see it that way though, and Nestra could hardly blame them. Many guilders were… kind of cunts if she had to be honest.

They way they behaved, hoarded resources… and she was saying this as one of the main beneficiaries of the model. Yeah, he might have an audience here. Out of curiosity, she checked Hunnigan's profile. One of the details immediately caught her eyes. Cooperation with the American Tomorrow's faction.

"Aren't those the twats who invaded me in my own home? Fuck!" Furious, she turned off the radio. Kim better win this. The Beacon was in sight anyway. She joined the long line of cars going for one of the gargantuan parking lots. It was weird, but Ragnarok had asked her to come as her human self. Apparently, she had something ready. Nestra followed her visor's directions down, instead of up, which was highly unusual. The elevator descended into the depths of the Earth to levels that made little sense. Minus twelve.

Minus thirteen. The gates opened on a heavily auged woman, eye implants flashing dangerously in the dim light. Her uniform marked her as Intelligence Division.

"Miss Palladian, welcome. If you would follow me." She was led through bland corridors to something that looked like a small conference room complete with a coffee tray. The intelligence woman waved at the assortment of goods. She removed an actual piece of paper from a drawer. Nestra looked on with interest. It was an NDA.

"Despite my strong objections, I was ordered to give you an abridged version of our normal briefings and I will comply. Before you are given details, I will ask you to sign this." Nestra grabbed a pen though she frowned at the paper first, reading the first lines carefully. Some of the terms made her raise her eyebrows.

"Banishment? Really?" It left the intelligence woman unfazed.

"What you are going to learn is known to every major government and public entity on the planet, but the information is kept contained for very good reasons."

"Such as?" Nestra asked.

"Such as avoiding massive public pressure to declare war on, and subsequently attempt to invade Threshold. Operative word: attempt."

"Riel."

"Every year I get guilder goons telling me there is no need to be so serious since a secret shared by thousands of people is never a secret anymore so I will confirm this: we do not want this to spread more, and we are willing to either imprison or banish you for the rest of your life should you go against the city's wishes. You may not discuss it with anybody, and I do mean anybody you haven't physically met inside."

"Alright, I got it."

"Then sign whenever you're ready." Nestra finished reading anyway. She signed when she was done.

"So, what is it? A-class portal?" The officer ignored her completely.

"Sixty years ago, operatives working for user Riel discovered the passage used by the lizard people to attack Earth. It was situated on the eastern shore of a newly emerged continent." Nestra blinked.

"No fucking way."

"This passage leads to a permanent world that cannot be closed, which we commonly refer to as the 'Border World'. This world covers an estimated surface of three hundred square kilometers around two portals: the one that leads under the Beacon, and another one leads to the lizard people's home planet."

"Wait. The passage is permanent? It has never been closed?"

"And it will never be as far as we understand. Now you know why the city is called Threshold," the intelligence replied in a bored voice. It was clear she'd already had this conversation far too many times. Nestra understood the implications now, though. If the city controlled the only… wormhole to other planets, well, not now in a century or two, that would be like controlling the only port on an island… Unless…

"And the lizard people, do we know if they have their own Border Worlds?"

"I am not allowed to discuss this," the woman quickly replied in a bored voice, but her eyes twinkled a bit. So yes, they did. Threshold controlled Earth's access to a series of interconnected worlds? Yeah that was worth starting an invasion over.

"Yesterday morning," she continued, "lizard people forces attempted to storm the border fortress after savagely attacking our patrols. The assault has been repulsed, however the situation is still unstable. You will be deployed as part of a relief task force to assist with recovery and mop up efforts starting tomorrow. That is all. You are dismissed."