Krahe wasn’t sure what to say to that. On one hand, the statement itself, “Weakness is a sin,” sounded idiotic to the utmost extent, it was the sort of thing she expected to hear as a non-justification from some dehumanized psycho before turning them into a greasy stain. But the sentiment behind the words, as hyperbolic as they were, truly wasn’t wrong.

  “That’s the worst way of saying something true I have ever come across,” Krahe eventually said. At the same time, she couldn’t dismiss those words. After a few moments formulating the thought, she added, “The measure of personal strength one ought to possess depends entirely on the dangers one can reasonably be expected to encounter. A gun and a fistful of reapers would’ve been enough for you. The part that so many so often forget is the willingness and ability to do what needs to be done. A lion who has lived a life of constant combat, and is thus ready to kill at any moment, will defeat a tiger who has done nothing but wander his territory devouring creatures far smaller and weaker than itself.”

  She briefly considered whether to say the next part, whether it would be too harsh, whether she ought to reconsider, to use a different example, but in the end, she decided it would be best to put it plainly.

  “Had they been ready for me, Aldritch and the others would’ve had a real chance to drive me off or even kill me, but they weren’t, just like you weren’t ready for them.”

  Juno chuckled. “But my power, I need more power! Weakness is a sin! Morality is a lie!” the girl mocked, then performed a dismissive wanking gesture with her free hand, a mocking grin on her face. Her new teeth were pointy. Why were her teeth pointy? Not fully beartrap, but much pointier than they ought to be. Juno ate another piece of pie, and let out a contented sigh.

  “I get it, I’m not delusional, though I’m sure the more I say that the less you’ll believe me. It’s hard to believe that someone who went through what I went through could be in their right mind so soon after it happened. I don’t feel entirely right of mind, either. But if the way I’m coping is madness and sanity is becoming a shivering vessel for trauma, then I’d rather be mad,” she said. There was a change, in both her voice and her expression, or what Krahe could see of it. She knew it well, she’d seen it upon the faces of others and had worn it herself. A strain to the way she spoke, a flickering fluctuation, an indefinable madness seeping through. It wasn’t the conventional insanity, the sort that would land one in a straightjacket, but the madness that drove one to unravel their entire life and rewind it around a singular lynchpin. Of course Krahe knew it well, how could she not?

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  “I can believe that you’re no less sane than me. But, let’s say it’s a few months from now. Aldritch, Ogura, Radanov, Calvus, and the Helmeted Man are all dead. No strings. Vengeance fulfilled. What then? It’s fine if you can’t give an answer, but really think about it. The point I’m trying to make — there is nothing wrong with vengeance, but there must be an after. There’s no point to killing those who have wronged you if they continue to control your life afterwards,” Krahe said. It wasn’t lost on her that it could be seen as hypocritical, but she didn’t consider her crusade in this world to be a continuation of her vengeance against Whitestone. And regardless, she of all people was aware that she often didn’t live up to her own ideals.

  Juno seemed to really take the question to heart, because she fell silent. Thirteen minutes passed by in silence as the girl thought, and a full one-third of the ekarone pie was gone by the time she spoke, somewhat uncertainly.

  “Hard to say. Contractor work, probably. At least for a few years. Something tells me those four won’t be enough to sate me, and I figure I should do my part making sure others don’t end up like I did. After that, I’m not sure. Grafting, maybe? Could learn on myself while I work as a contractor, who knows. I’m sure I’ll have it easier than most if I can just use myself as a test subject with no risk of rejection. That’s why I asked for Aldritch’s arm. I know that you can’t just use an arm you tear off of someone for a graft, but I can. That’s why you’re so concerned, isn’t it? You don’t want to risk me becoming a serial killer or getting snatched and used as a test subject. Or both, I guess.”

  “Firminus,” Krahe said, holding Juno’s gaze. Well, as close to it as she could — she stared at the expressionless visor. As she did this, she retracted her Tar tendril, placed the dagger it was holding into her Kenoma Pocket, and began opening a maw leading to her Kenoma Sack.

  “Yes?” the grafter responded, exasperation in his voice.

  “A moment,” she said. Not long after, Shiva’s Warding Chain emerged from the palm of her hand, gripped by another tendril, and she handed it to the grafter. “Is it safe?”

  “For implantation? It’s just a modified first-order key, there is no danger,” he said without even touching it. He could tell just from a glance. She didn’t expect him to need more than that, this was just a gesture to give him the chance to make known any misgivings he might have about what she was doing.

  “Good,” Krahe nodded, satisfied, and whipped the tendril around towards Juno. It took the girl a few moments to properly see the voidkey, but when she did, she thankfully took it from Krahe.

  “Replace it if you get a better one. Just be careful about keys rated Third-order and higher. As for the execution…”

  “Can we do it tomorrow? I really would prefer to do it sooner rather than later,” Juno interrupted.

  “Can we, Firminus?” Krahe asked.

  After some consideration and hesitation, just a touch of hemming and hawming, the grafter acquiesced.

  “I believe it can be arranged. I will send word to the Audunpoint Inquisitorial Office.”

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