i'll change your _______

Zane threw the door open to the warehouse, running his hands through his hair before pulling it. He punched the wall a few times for good measure, before taking a deep breath and regaining some semblance of cool.

Someone threw a wet towel on his head. Zane turned around, and Lucian smiled. “…Did something happen?”

“I talked to one person and got her fired.”

“Oh—I’m sorry.”

Zane sighed. “I’m the one who should be apologizing. Should’ve just ran after her, or said something to that asshole—couldn’t have been that hard to scare him.”

“Hey, kid, what happened to laying low?” Shay said, elbowing Zane. “I’m not gonna nod my head along if you’re not keeping your cool, Rage.”

“You can’t just—”

“Huh? Lay low?”

Shay and Zane froze. Effie stared at them with big, innocent eyes, though their slips of tongue soon shifted the empty confusion to a gasp, and a hand against the wall as she stumbled over herself. “Wait, wait, wait! You’re—I knew I recognized you from somewhere! You’re the Guardian who—”

“Betrayed the church, yeah,” Zane said, waving a hand. “But that’s not important. We gotta bring that fucking company down to our level before I lose my cool.”

“I—uh…” Effie blanked.

Lucian smiled, clapping his hands together. “Zane’s right! I know, uh, this is a lot to take in, but we can consider it… an exchange? We’ll help you, and you’ll—try not to worry about who we are.”

“But…” Effie rubbed her face, stared at Lucian, then rubbed her eyes. “I—guess? Maybe? I’ll try to? I mean, it’s kinda hard—Vitam’s current Avatar and a former Guardian, like, what’s up with that?”

Shay jabbed a thumb into his chest. “Think you’re forgetting someone here.”

“…And you are…?”

“…So, the meeting?”

With some grumbling, Shay brushed off a crate and took a seat. Lucian cleaned the place up a fair bit, but they still had a decent amount of work to do before they’d be ready. And Zane knew that until tomorrow, he’d have this frustration holding him down.

But at least, he found more than enough ways to spit it all out come tomorrow.

They finished cleaning, getting the warehouse in a sort of decent condition by the end of day. “So, you said you work for Shining Beacon, huh?”

Effie huffed, playing with her hair. “I guess worked, now. I bet that stupid manager saw us and put on that whole stunt to hit me with the world’s worst termination letter.”

“Yeah, I bet. Asshole.”

“A big fart.”

Zane blinked. “How old’re you again?”

“Like—hey, you can’t ask a lady her age!”

Nevermind, he shouldn’t have bothered. Zane clicked his tongue as Effie huffed, storming off to talk to Lucian about something. Meanwhile, Zane pondered.

He had a lot to think about before tomorrow.

—————————————

“Um—” Lucian fiddled in a corner alongside Zane, while Effie and Shay greeted the people who entered.

The five people who bothered to give them the time of day. Not a great start, but Zane dealt with way worse before. It could’ve been a group of hundred people who wanted them dead; Effie did as Zane asked and kept their identities on the down-low, though Zane put his own effort in as well to disguise himself considering he agreed to be the speaker for this rally.

If one called a ‘rally’ a tiny crowd of people. Most of them younger, with a couple older gentleman. Shay elbowed Zane, carrying a small tray.

“I made snacks,” he said. “It’s candy, but like a rock. The little ones kept trying to eat ‘em all morning, those scamps.”

Zane ran a hand through his hair. “You didn’t bring those things with you, right?”

“Hey! First of all, they’re not things. Second of all, ‘course I brought them. But I’ll keep them outta the way, so stop fussing and just focus on what you gotta do.”

“I’m not fussing,” Zane said. “I just… don’t think this is gonna pan out.”

Effie pouted. “But we’ve worked so hard! C’mon, don’t say it like that, have some faith! You did say you were gonna help, so you can’t really back out now. Even if you really wanted to.”

“I don’t want to, it’s just—okay, this is your issue. You get it better than I ever will. And if I just go out there, and say what’s going on in your mind, then it won’t be something I can put my heart behind.”

Zane hated that kind of sappy talk, but in sappy speech territory it came with the trade. And the simple fact remained: He didn’t feel confident telling someone else’s story. But Effie would’ve just done it herself if she had the confidence to, and they lacked time to get her some before this. If they canceled, that’d ruin the little faith they’d managed to cultivate.

So—

“They don’t just say what I want you to say. Say what you think.”

Effie put a hand on his shoulder.

“Listen, Zane, I didn’t grab you just because I wanted a mouthpiece for my thoughts. I like, really needed someone who just… says what he thinks without worrying about others. My brain’s always running on worry. But look at you! You bat so hard for what you believe in you got fired for it!”

And got thrown into a death camp, but Zane bit his tongue. Effie leaned in, their noses touching.

“So don’t go worrying about ‘oh, Effie wants this, Effie wants that’, just do what you wanna do. Can’t be that hard, right? You look like you know the part inside and out.”

Zane’s heart thudded. A simple belief—a shimmering, innocent one. It was charming, he hated to admit it, enough to silence him. He nodded stiffly, turning away. The crowd waited for someone to speak.

A story to tell—whether his or not, if Effie wanted him to speak, then he’d damn well speak, and they’d listen, they’d want to listen, and they’d want to change.

Many people have ignored Zane’s words before. He won’t let them this time.

He took a step forward, and—

“Zane, stop!”