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In Hvergelmir's experience, good fortune followed those who were willing to work the system to their advantage -- and, of course to those who had money. She didn't take Scholomance for a blind optimist or a child of wealth, not on what had otherwise been a pretty informative first impression . . . so she guessed he was in that first camp. Opportunity followed the opportunistic.

That would sound judgmental, if she said it. She kept it to herself instead.

"No one's recovered their lost memories," she said. "Even in leaving their faction and coming back to it -- there's been no sign of those original lost memories returning. But it's not as though we have many examples of that to study -- and none of them without any particular complicating factors."

There were always complicating factors. There were complicating factors in everything. "I know Cinnabar," she said. "We've fought a few times. She plays a little at the idea of offering corruption, but from what I can tell, the youma she's fused with has an effect on her. She's violent and impatient . . . sometimes she seems a little feral, sort of. There's some evidence that people who fuse with youma still feel the effects of their influence, whether or not they're aware of it. But you're right," she affirmed. "Mostly they don't value our information highly enough to spare our lives for it."

Were they bound by the Code? Could they act of their own volition, in defiance of it? A good question. "I don't know," she said simply. Sometimes there was nothing else, nothing more hopeful to be said.

"I -- "

She looked at Scholomance, smiled, and stuttered out a laugh. "I don't -- no one's ever asked me my opinions before," she admitted. "People tend to want information as unflavored by bias as possible -- especially coming from someone they know doesn't fight. Most people are looking to have their own stance validated, I guess."

She looked away, back into the fountain. The water burbled and splashed on as ever. "The senshi -- Order side -- have some advantages that come pre-packaged for them. They've got Mauvians to guide them, communicators they get up-front, and best of all, an entire primer document that one of them wrote up that every senshi gets from their phone right away. Their power supply's ample in a way that Chaos's isn't -- they'll never run the risk of running out of power if they don't drain people's energy. If they make use of their assets, they're well equipped to be devastating. The problem is, easy access to their resources makes them less comfortable reaching out to each other, more isolated. Everyone I've met suffers from some degree of lone wolf syndrome, but them most of all. It's dangerous, and it would make them hard to muster for an all-out offensive, if it came to that.

"Knights are . . . a little better at banding together, in my experience -- but that's by necessity. Our abilities are middling on our own -- versatile, but not powerful -- and we start out with almost none of the tools we need for success. Everything's its own effort -- getting things and learning how to do anything. We're hobbling by, but -- as a faction, knights aren't strong

"The Negaverse is a high risk venture. They've built a powerful army based on rewarding tactics, but their house is built on a bed of sand. They're fighting hard and gambling on winning fast . . . because if they don't, they won't be able to keep their people in line long enough to follow through to victory. Chaos makes people cold, dangerous and volatile in ways I don't think they can always predict . . . and the lies they tell their recruits won't hold water forever. Rather than building and running a water-tight ship, their strategy is to sail hell-for-leather as fast as they can and hope they win before they sink.

"The Dark Mirror Court . . . they're playing the long game, which I guess is wise for a smaller, weaker Chaos faction than the Negaverse. What they haven't counted on, though, is that their alliance with the Negaverse is killing them because of that. The Negaverse is done with them, but that means they've got no big bad wolf to hide behind anymore. Now their game is staying out of the fighting and letting the rest of us kill each other, as far as I can tell, then planning to pick off the weakened winner in the end. Oh, they won't say they have any motives, but -- their story about wanting to go to space has an obvious and glaring hole in it. Dancing the razor's edge is a dangerous plan . . . someone will slip up at some point, and they'll have to pick a side -- and after that, the reception might not be as much of a ticker tape parade."

She shrugged. "Anyone could win this war. Anyone could lose it. It's a matter of who understands the hands everyone's been dealt well enough to play their cards to a victory."

Hvergelmir shook her head. She smiled. "I don't believe in unworthy questions. I think that's a dangerous way of thinking." She considered what she knew about people who'd lost their memories, and what had remained behind. "Some things seem to stay," she said. "Connections that are there that still trigger, but don't lead to anything anymore. We have so many different ways of storing memories -- it's not really surprising. And it's already clear that the memories people lose don't necessarily equate to losses of memory related to them. Plenty of people have lost their civilian memories, but didn't forget how to speak English or how to tie their shoes, even though they never specifically learned those things when they were powered up, or never did them. You might still know how to draw -- I might still know how to spell big words -- even if we had the memories of how we learned those things taken away. But it's all varied so much, in the people we've seen. Having feelings or knowledge you can't understand can be painful for some people, or frightening -- so can having relationships with people you don't remember. If you've ever known anyone with Alzheimer's, or read about it . . . anyway, I don't think I've ever met anyone who got the clean slate they might have wanted."

It wasn't the kind of answer people wanted to hear. It wasn't something that was going to encourage more people to leave the Negaverse. But it was all the limited information she knew.

Scholomance looked pretty, playing with his hair. There was something so intimate, so sweet about seeing someone fiddle absently with tiny details of their appearance -- something subconscious in them externalizing itself. It was the simplicity of someone straightening a cufflink, or tugging at a fallen sock, or brushing a fallen eyelash off their cheek. She remembered seeing Scholomance fussing with his clothes earlier, too, and finding that just as endearing.

Maybe it was the sense of humanity in such tiny gestures -- the idea of seeing oneself reflected in another. Carmine said those sorts of behaviors -- orrying at a ragged thumbnail, picking at chapped lips -- could be signs of anxiety, after all.

He was very thin, up close. The uniform hid much of it. She tucked that thought away behind her ear for future consideration.

Some people were just thin.

"The chances are very good that the Negaverse will win," she finally answered, her expression sober. "If that happens, I suspect Metallia -- whatever sort of entity she really is -- will devour this planet and everything on it. We'll all die, or be turned into youma. If Chaos is indeed responsible for the rest of our dead, ruined galaxy . . . I see no reason to believe it would willingly spare Earth."

'I find that good fortune follows those who are open to it.'

If Scholomance was as much an opportunist as he seemed, she wondered what this war looked like to him. And if he wasn't . . . well, someone else would be, someday, and she'd have to shore up her approach to that point of view in any event. Best to start trying to think that way now, just in case.

"Our chances of victory may not be good, allying Order's forces together . . . but I see it as the only viable option for long-term survival. I think we're much more likely to lose, on this side, than Chaos's forces are -- but I don't suspect that what Chaos will ultimately lead to is anything worth winning."

One finger traced circles around the top of her signet ring. There were many reasons she did what she did, in this war. She wondered which kind of reason Scholomance wanted.

What she'd tried to explain to Castor, perhaps.

"The Moral Law causes the people to be in complete accord with their ruler, so that they will follow him regardless of their lives, undismayed by any danger. Whatever it is that Metallia's trying to accomplish, it's clear she can't do it without enlisting human agents to fight on her behalf. The moral law she's given them -- the reason they're supposed to fight and kill for her -- is a lie. I've always thought dismantling that lie was the obvious approach."