“You don’t trust me,” Cass said to Granny Lu. His voice was soft but steady. “I understand. Elysian doesn’t... people don’t come back the same. That’s what people say.” He swallowed
“And you?” Granny Lu asked. “What happened to you?”
“They tried to make me different.” Cass’s hand found Riot’s shoulder, his fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. “But it didn’t work. Brother Matthias said I was still spiritually deficient. Too broken to be fixed.” He paused, his brow furrowing slightly. “I know I’m not smart, people tell me that a lot. I’ve tried to be smarter and understand the things they wanted me to understand, but I couldn’t make them fit in my head. They kept sliding off.”
“Convenient,” Granny Lu murmured.
Cass looked at her with no trace of offense. “I don’t know what that means in this context.”
“She means it’s suspicious,” Riot said, fighting to keep his voice level. “That Elysian’s programming failed on you specifically.”
“Oh.” Cass considered this, finger combing a strand of hair as he looked back at Granny Lu. “You can believe me or not. I can’t make you. I just need to go back for Honey, and I was hoping someone would help me.”
Granny Lu studied him for a long moment, the cigarillo burning unattended between her fingers.
“Tell me about Springfield Gardens,” she said finally. “Tell me about the layout, the schedules, how things work. If you’re what you say you are, you’ll know details a plant wouldn’t bother to learn.”
Riot listened to him talk about the meditation schedule that was really guard rotations, explained in simple terms that made the pattern obvious once he heard it. He described the paths between buildings, how the rose garden was the fastest route to the women’s quarters but the vegetable plots had better cover. He mentioned the commissary’s broken window latch that had never been fixed. He explained which Elders took tea at what times and how the therapy rooms were always empty during evening reflection.
It was, Riot realized, an operational briefing. Cass didn’t know that’s what he was giving, he was just describing his home, the way anyone would describe any place they lived their whole life. But the information was there: entry points, timing windows, security gaps.
When Cass finally trailed off, he slid from the arm of Riot’s chair and crossed to his robes, still crumpled on the ground of the living room and picked them up. His fingers felt along the inner lining, tracing along a seam.
“Riot.” He held the fabric out, pointing to a small hand-stiched ‘x’. “Can you tear this? Right here, above the mark.”
Riot took the robes and pulled. The old stitching gave way easily, and something small and rectangular tumbled into Cass’s waiting hands.
A photograph. Laminated, yellowed with age, but the image still clear. Cass’s hands began to shake as he held it, tears welling in his eyes as he looked down at it and smiled.
Riot saw two young people grinning at the camera, maybe in their teens, both in Elysian robes and looking mischievous. The boy had golden hair hanging loose and wild, his face soft withyouth. Beside him stood a young woman who towered over him, easily six feet tall, with radiant dark skin and dozens of twisted locs decorated with crystal beads that caught the light.
“This is Honey,” Cass sniffled, holding the photo like it was made of glass. “She’s a real person with real feelings. I have to help her.”
The photograph made its way around the room. Riot studied the easy intimacy of the pose, the genuine happiness in both their faces, before passing it to Dante.
“Please…be careful with it. We’re not supposed to keep things like that, so it’s the only picture I have of her from before they separated us into gendered housing,” Cass said, staring at the ground as his fingers went back to his hair. “We love each other. Just not the way the Elders decided we should.”
When it reached Granny Lu, her face gave nothing away before she handed it off to Sage. Sage’s brow furrowed as she stared at the picture, then passed it back to Cass.
“She’s expecting me to come back,” Cass said into the silence. “She knows I wouldn’t just leave her.”
“Pretty picture,” Granny Lu said. “Pretty story.”
“It’s not a story.” Cass’s chin came up—the first flash of something like steel Riot had seen from him since he’d entered the room. “It’s just true.”
Granny Lu took a long drag on her cigarillo, watching him through the smoke.
“Alright,” she said finally. “Say I believe you. Say you’re exactly what you appear to be: a broken Elysian who wants to save his friend. You still haven’t told mehow. Springfield Gardens is a sealed community. They don’t let people in, and they sure as hell don’t let people out. You can’t just walk up to the front gate and ask nicely.”
“I have an idea about that,” Riot said.
Everyone looked at him.
“I’m going to tell them I want in on the transcendence.” He let that land. “Their whole philosophy is proving their methods can fix anyone. What’s the ultimate proof? Converting someone everyone else considers irredeemable.”
“You want to walk into Elysian territory,” Dante said slowly, “pretending to be a Berserker seeking enlightenment?”
“Not pretending. I am a Berserker.” Riot smiled, and it wasn’t a nice smile. “I just leave out the part where I’m there to steal someone.”
