Two weeks had passed since Zinia and Mei had entered the Fortress Country, but their efforts had borne no fruit. The information they sought remained elusive, locked behind layers of bureaucracy, whispers, and secrets that no one was willing to share. Zinia's patience had worn thin, her anger festering with every passing day. The city was a fortress in every sense, and no amount of power or influence could force its gates of knowledge open.
She stormed through the small room they had been staying in, her footsteps heavy with frustration. Mei sat silently in the corner, his eyes on the floor, as always, waiting for her to speak. His passive presence was a constant reminder of their lack of progress, and that only fueled her rage further.
"This is pointless!" Zinia snapped, her voice sharp as a blade. "We've been here for two weeks, Mei. Two weeks! And we've learned nothing!"
Mei remained silent, his head tilted slightly as if acknowledging her words but offering no response. He wouldn't unless she directly asked him, and she knew that. He was incapable of independent thought, of challenging her or offering any insight. He was her puppet, bound to her by blood, but his silence infuriated her more than anything.
"Why aren't you saying anything?" she demanded, striding across the room and grabbing him by the collar of his shirt. She yanked him up to his feet, her face inches from his as her rage burned in her eyes. "Why don't you ever have a solution?!"
Mei blinked, his calm expression unchanged. "You haven't asked me for one."
Zinia's teeth ground together in frustration. "Fine," she growled, shoving him back against the wall. "Tell me, Mei, what should we do now? What's the plan?"
He stared at her blankly, his mind racing to process her question, but he couldn't think for himself. His thoughts were fragmented, only forming coherent responses to direct questions.
"I don't know," Mei answered, his voice flat. "I don't know what we should do unless you tell me."
"Of course you don't!" Zinia spat, her fist colliding with his chest. Mei stumbled back from the force of the hit, but he didn't resist. He never did. She knew she could hit him harder, vent her frustrations physically, and he would endure it because he had no choice.
Another punch followed, this time to his arm. He grunted softly from the impact but remained standing, his body bracing for whatever else she would throw his way. Zinia's fury was a storm inside her, one she couldn't release on anyone else—no one else could take the hits without breaking. But Mei? Mei could. He always had.
"Why are you so useless?" Zinia seethed, delivering a swift kick to his leg. He wobbled but didn't fall. His body was strong, a mirror of the power she wielded, but his mind was a void. "Why don't you ever help me?!"
"I help when you ask," Mei replied quietly, his gaze still distant. "But you haven't asked."
Zinia's fists tightened at her sides, trembling with the force of her rage. She struck him again, this time square in the chest, and he stumbled back against the wall. "I shouldn't have to ask! You should just know!"
"I don't know what you want unless you tell me," Mei said again, his voice monotonous. There was no emotion in it, no defiance or fear, just cold logic. He would always answer because that was all he could do.
Zinia felt a scream rising in her throat, but she swallowed it down. This was hopeless. She could hit him again, ask him the same questions a thousand times, but the result would always be the same. She had no answers, and neither did he. She wasn't sure if she was angrier at Mei or at herself for being so stuck.
Her breathing came in ragged bursts, her heart pounding in her chest as she glared at her brother. He stared back, his face blank, awaiting her next move. Zinia let out a frustrated growl, pacing across the room before turning on her heel to face him again.
"Tell me something useful," she ordered, her voice low and dangerous. "Tell me why we've gotten nowhere. Why no one is talking to us. Why we're stuck!"
Mei blinked, his expression unchanged. "I don't know."
Zinia's anger flared once more, her fist swinging out to hit him again, but she stopped herself at the last second. There was no point. Hitting him wouldn't make her feel any better. The walls would crack under her strength, and yet Mei stood there unchanged.
She couldn't even break him. She couldn't break something that's already broken.
Zinia turned away, her body trembling with frustration. She needed answers, but none were coming. Everything felt like a dead end, and the only thing she could control was the amount of pain she inflicted on her brother.
But even that wasn't enough anymore.
"I'm going to sleep," she muttered, her voice bitter. "Maybe I'll have better luck in my dreams than I do in this cursed city."
Mei didn't respond, and she didn't expect him to. She collapsed onto the bed, exhaustion taking over as her anger simmered beneath the surface. She fell asleep almost immediately, her mind spiraling into a deep, restless slumber.
In the darkness of her dreams, the familiar presence of Ei began to form. The manifestation of her soul, yet undeniably present—hovered before her. Its voice was a melody of condescension and temptation, a constant reminder of Zinia's inner turmoil.
"Ah, Zinia," Ei cooed, her tone dripping with mockery. "You seem troubled."
Zinia clenched her jaw, glaring at the figure. "What do you want, Ei?"
"What I always want," Ei replied with a lilting laugh. "To see you struggle. To see you bend and break under the weight of your own failure. You can't even control your own anger, and yet you expect to control the world around you?"
Zinia's fists clenched in her sleep, her frustration boiling over. "I am in control," she hissed. "I'm just… stuck."
"You can't control the world around you because your weak," Ei taunted, her clothes changing and swirling like smoke in the air. "You lash out at your brother, but he's not the problem, is he? You're angry because you can't get what you want, and that makes you weak."
Zinia's teeth ground together, her blood boiling at the accusation. "I am not weak."
Ei's laughter echoed in the void of the dream, a haunting, mocking sound. "But you are. You're weak because you can't control your emotions. You think power is in your fists, in your alchemy, Zinia."
Zinia's chest tightened, her anger bubbling to the surface. "I will control it. I'll find a way."
"You'll never be in control," Ei said, her voice soft but biting. "Not as long as you don't change and accept it. This is why you're stuck. This is why you're weak."
Zinia felt the words like daggers, each one striking deeper than the last. She opened her mouth to retort, to argue, but the words wouldn't come. She felt the weight of Ei's taunt settle in her chest, a bitter truth she didn't want to face.
In the silence that followed, Zinia's anger boiled over, and she screamed into the void of her dream. But there was no release, no satisfaction. Just the empty echo of her own voice in the dark.
When she woke, the weight of Ei's words still lingered in her mind. She lay in bed for a long moment, staring up at the ceiling as her anger simmered beneath the surface.
Weak. That word echoed in her mind like a curse, and she vowed, silently, that she would find a way to prove Ei wrong.