Project Seraphina [LitRPG, Magitech, GL]
3.5 The More that we Try

It’s not long before Chloe’s mother arrives at the shop. She rushes in and immediately gives Chloe a long hug before turning to me. She’s about to do the same, but I’m forced to ask her to stay herself until the situation is resolved. I don’t doubt for a moment that these people might try something if they’re given a moment’s reprieve. In fact…

“Chloe, can you [Cloister] your mother? I’d rather we be safe than sorry here.”

Chloe nods and does so. I only see it out of the corner of my eye, but already I feel a sense of comfort coming over me. Even should one of these five men try something, I doubt they’ll be able to do anywhere close to 3,200 points of damage before I have a chance to react.

“A saintess?” Mrs. Jacobs asks.

Chloe blushes and demurs. I respond in her stead.

“Yeah. I think it fits her pretty well. She’s pure and kind-hearted and compassionate, caring about all people and striving to heal them whenever she can. Sometimes even when it puts her in danger. I won’t speak to the religious or spiritual side of it, but her actions exemplify what I’d consider saintliness.”

Chloe is blushing even harder now. Were we alone, I’m sure she would be berating me and telling me how it was inappropriate to say such things in public. As it is, I’m sure I’ll get an earful later. But with her mother around, all she can do for now is hide her face, now as bright red as a tomato.

Before the conversation can get too awkward, three police officers step onto the scene. As much as I distrust and dislike them, I bite my tongue and let them survey the area, taking stock of the people involved and taking a lot of notes. More conversations amongst themselves, followed by one of the three whispering in, requesting backup.

Mrs. Jacobs takes point, approaching the tallest of the three and speaking of the events as she’s heard them. I try to comfort Chloe, all while keeping my arm pointed squarely toward the guards from before. At the same time, however, a bit of jitteriness takes hold of me as the officers ask more and more pointed questions. I do my best to steel myself for the inevitable conversation— interrogation— that’s about to happen, all while desperately trying to figure out how to extricate myself from being arrested, despite having done nothing wrong here.

Too bad [Angel’s Grace] still doesn’t work as a self-buff, because I could really use the sense of calm the spell provides per Chloe’s description.

The lead officer— Officer Henry, based on his badge— approaches me. He offers his hand, which I tepidly accept. He then proceeds to demand my identification, which I provide after a moment of hesitation. My little… incident a couple of months ago is going to come back to haunt me here, isn’t it?

He hands it back after a couple of minutes and gives me a stern look. No cuffs coming out. A nice start. Maybe we can even resolve this little spat like decent people. Ultimately his call, just like with the group lying on the ground.

“Tell me what happened,” he says.

And therein lies the problem. By every objective metric, I acted in self-defense and in the defense of Chloe. But I’ve already had a known run-in with the law, and there’s no reason to suspect that these five won’t lie out of their teeth to paint me as the criminal here. And given that I’m a customer who waltzed in and now I have all the employees lying on the ground like I’m trying to hold the place up, I can’t even say that I blame him.

“I’m going to exercise my right to remain silent until I have a lawyer present,” I say. Honestly, what I should have done last time. Would have saved Chloe and me a lot of trouble. Ultimately, that led me to meeting Lindsey and the others, so it worked out well.

He… doesn’t seem happy. Martial law may be largely a thing of the past and some sense of civil order has been restored. But tensions are still high, it seems. And considering that I’m fully confident I could fight these three officers and the five from before, all while protecting Chloe and Mrs. Jacobs, I get it on an intellectual level. Still doesn’t alleviate years of distrust I’ve accrued toward police as an institution.

Thankfully, Mrs. Jacobs’s attorney arrives only a couple of minutes later. And despite the mental image of attorneys as being slick and sleazy, the young man of no more than thirty seems… casual. Instead of a suit worth more than many people make in a year, his choice of clothing is pure business casual. A dark blue collared shirt with khaki pants and a pair of dark brown dress shoes that… considering their brand, probably cost closer to a thousand than a hundred. His hair is cut in that casual ‘more on top’ do that seemingly every guy who wants to be chic is doing. And, were I into guys— were I into anyone but Chloe, to be honest—he would be rather attractive.

“Hello… Miss Mortensen, is it?” he says. He hands me a business card with his name on it. Mr. Dan Rutherford, of Rutherford, Rutherford, and Johnson, PLLC.

“Just Seraphina is fine. Or Sera, if that’s a mouthful.” It’s a bit odd. I go by ‘Sera’ most of the time, but in recent days, I’ve started feeling more comfortable going by Seraphina. Maybe that’s a consequence of my memories of my previous life beginning to emerge more and more. Or– Actually, now that I think about it, I think the mental shift really took once I chose my [Mechanical Angel] class.

Maybe that’s a consequence of choosing the class. Classes seem to be a bit weird like that. They don’t supplant our will, and I wouldn’t say it’s like how people with addiction have described their cravings or urges, as something desperate that has to be sated immediately, overriding all rational thought to the contrary. But there is a sort of pull to act in ways that align with our classes. Chloe desires to heal and protect.

I exist to protect as well, but in a different way. Chloe’s desire to protect is more personal. She wants to be on the ground, knowing that each individual life saved is a victory. Mine, however, is more abstract, more distant. Like, well, an angel descending in times of great strife, impersonally intervening in the direst hour, before returning back whence I came. Not necessarily caring about each individual life the way Chloe does. More focused on the bigger picture. The war against the System. Problems like that of the Order of the Wilds that affect entire cities… states, countries. Hells below, entire planets and star systems.

It’s not bad. Less empathetic, more logical, more calculating, like, well, the machine that I was and to an extent am, once again. I glance at my arm right before the attorney, Mr. Rutherford, finishes his introduction.

The two of us head to the side, away from the officers, where I spend a few moments with him going over the events from earlier in as much detail as I can remember, from the time we touched down to the time he arrived. Like with the officers, I don’t exactly trust Mrs. Jacobs’ attorney, but at least I know he’s being paid to represent my legal interests. And so I have no choice but to tell him the whole truth, as best I know. Chloe adds a few details of her own.

In the meantime, the officers don’t seem to mind the brief reprieve from questioning Chloe and me. There’s a lot of insurance paperwork and reporting to do, plus interrogating the five others involved in the little scene. None of whom seem to have the mental acuity to follow my lead and lawyer up. One would think that a pawnbroker who was prepared to offer me six figures on a whim for my wings would have a few hundred bucks for a lawyer… Honestly, I probably need my own lawyer on retainer, what with all the money and job offers coming in.

It really was too good to be true to think of that half million dollars to be a giant slush fund to play with. And oh goddesses, I need an accountant for taxes and shit. Yeah, I definitely need a lawyer of my own.

Finally, after half an hour of discussions between the officers, my attorney, and me, we’re… let go? I was definitely expecting to be arrested— well, an arrest attempt to be made, as I’m absolutely not heading to County Jail by anyone’s will but my own. But it seems that they were able to get some security footage which showed conclusively that Chloe and I had been acting in self-defense. There’s likely going to be some lingering fallout over the coming days and weeks. I’ll likely have to testify in whatever trial comes down the line… in a year or two, Mr. Rutherford suggests.

But yeah, Chloe and I are free to go. Though, with the mission left incomplete and half the morning already burned through, my carefully-wrought plans have ended up a total bust. We could go elsewhere, or try to hit up a more upscale establishment, but I don’t feel like putting Chloe through yet more battles. Not so soon, anyway.

I shake hands with Mr. Rutherford and slip his business card in my pocket before he takes off. Before Chloe and I can leave though, Mrs. Jacobs stops us.

We’re on the periphery of the parking lot, the entire establishment having been blocked off with police tape. More officers are on the scene, trying to figure out what they even can do with a bunch of folks who could probably break loose of their cuffs and physically overpower the low-level officers without any difficulty. Ultimately, though, I decide it’s best not to intervene more than anything, and Chloe seems equally eager to extricate herself from the situation.

“What did I tell you about being careful, Seraphina Mortensen!” she says, once we’re mostly out of the way of the pigs. “You almost got yourself hurt, and for God’s sake, you almost got Chloe hurt! You should be ashamed!”

I open my mouth to try to protest. We were never in any actual danger, and the danger that presented itself wasn’t beyond our ability to easily handle. Despite our appearance, we’re probably two of the strongest people in the whole city in terms of physical and magical might. But Chloe is still her daughter, and I’m now something of her surrogate daughter, so we’re always going to be fussed about by our Mama Bear.

It’s Chloe who ends up answering her mother. “Please don’t be mad at Sera,” she says. “We didn’t realize we were about to be attacked until we were surrounded. And–”

“I’m sorry for putting your daughter in danger,” I say.

It worked out, and we really weren’t in danger, except maybe legal danger. But that’s not what Mrs. Jacobs needs to hear right now. She needs to know that we’re safe, that I’m genuinely contrite, and that we’re not— despite the apparent evidence to the contrary— going out of our way to find trouble. But I suppose that’s just the way it is. Even when you don’t go looking for trouble, sometimes trouble has a way of looking for you.

Mrs. Jacobs smiles slightly… I wouldn’t say she looks anything approaching relaxed or comfortable, but some of the tension in her face and shoulders visibly subsides at my words and Chloe’s assurances.

“Now please, you two,” she says. “I know you’re both adults now and have each other and everything but…” She trails off and sighs. Her fingers fidget and her lips curl up into a small o-shape. I imagine she’s having one of those lingering cigarette cravings she’s mentioned a few times before. And I hope we don’t convince her back into the bad habit.

“I understand,” I say. “Though I can’t promise that we can keep ourselves totally safe.” I don’t want a life of safety, pretending that this is still the Earth from before the System. And though Chloe is more hesitant, I think she’s enjoying this new life as well.

Chloe gives a silent nod of approval.

Mrs. Jacobs wraps us both up into another hug before she glances back to her vehicle. “Please take care of yourselves. And each other.”

And I realize in those words just how hard it is for her to have to let go, to accept that we are adults and have to try to navigate those decisions. With her guidance, from time to time, of course.

“We will,” we both say, right as we take off into the sky.