Die. Respawn. Repeat.

The world around them changed, and He-Who-Guards watched.

He didn't recognize this space. It was a small workshop of some kind with a ceiling so low he had to bend over to avoid scraping his head against it; an assortment of technology, both legal and Integrator-derived sat, scattered around the workbench and shelves.

Miktik's workshop. A small part of him recognized it, but he'd never been inside himself—Whisper had been rather specific about making sure both he and his proxies avoided the area. He supposed now he knew why.

Ethan stood next to him, eyes closed and brows furrowed in concentration as he recreated the memory, detail after painstaking detail slowly resolving into the makeshift world around them. Aris looked around at the workshop, eyes wide and antennae twitching, filled with equal parts dread and anticipation, hope and longing.

And a heartbeat later, as Ethan opened his eyes brought his memory of Miktik into being, Guard understood why Aris looked so different now compared to when they first met. It had surprised him at first, but looking at the two of them side by side...

Aris looked just like a younger version of her mother.

Miktik had built her and then sacrificed everything for her. The form Aris chose when they first met was a temporary thing, constructed so they could have a conversation, but this was how she truly saw herself.

Then Miktik reached out like she wanted to hold her daughter. Aris seemed surprised at first, almost hesitant—but then she took a trembling step forward, then another, and practically fell into her mother's arms.

And just like that, they were holding one another.