Harmony

They said that no-one left the Nexus.

"They," as the case was, applied to those who both lived inside the Nexus, and those who ruled over them from their bastions of power. Qhira suspected that the claim had originated from the Realm Lords – what better way to keep one's subjects in line then to repeatedly tell them that there was no escape from their prison? Of course, how big the prison was varied from realm to realm, and it was certainly possible to cross between them, but as far as leaving the Nexus itself? That was meant to be impossible. "Heroes" might be summoned from worlds outside, but once you entered the Storm, there was no escaping its eye.

"They" still applied to the people however, from the lowliest peasant in Raven Court to the wealthiest noble in Dragon Shire. The gangs of Warchrome Wastes didn't entertain the possibility of escaping from their hellscape, and the people of Iresia had never wanted to leave in the first place. Theirs was the jewel of all the realms – a place of beauty, prosperity, and culture. None had wanted to leave until the day Iresia's peoples turned upon themselves, and their utopia came crashing down. And if any had survived, regardless of where they had fled, Qhira doubted that the thought of escaping the Nexus itself would have crossed their minds.

But she knew it was possible. She'd known it was possible before Iresia had burnt to the ground. She'd known it was possible when she took her realm's singularity shard and fled the fire and steel consuming her land. And having crossed across worlds now, her actions were testament to the truth of that possibility. She was outside the Nexus, and could stay outside the Storm for up to two hours before either returning, or being trapped her forever.

Question is, the bounty hunter reflected, where is here?

She certainly knew what it was – a city. One that appeared eerily similar to Iresia's mega-cities. Shining buildings towered up to the sky. The sun beat down with a heat that warmed her body and heart. The people here were similar too – similar hair, similar skin, even similar clothing. She had walked down these streets for ten minutes and so far, had not attracted a second glance. Granted, she suspected that if she drew out her chainsword that would change, but here, she felt at peace. In the Nexus, she'd served as a bounty hunter. Here, she wondered if these people even knew what such a profession was – certainly there was nothing to suggest that they were on a war-footing, which was required by any realm within the Nexus if they wanted to survive.

But there were differences as well, and they were differences that kept her hand close to her sword's hilt. Some were minor – most of the people looked like her, but there were a few others mingled throughout the crowd – those of different hair, clothes, and skin, and in some cases, different languages, even if the singularity's magic allowed her to understand them. Then there were the chariots the people here drove – hovering wagons that were kept aloft by humming circles, bereft of beasts of burden to bear their riders. The writing on LED displays was different, and as expected, so was the flag that hung from the gleaming buildings. But most eerie of all, were the people of metal – not unlike the creations of Neo-Stormwind, but here, not an exception to the organic rule. There were more of them here than there were humans that didn't look like her. Most were humanoid in shape. Some of them weren't. But they walked throughout the city without attracting a second glance from the people around them. The people were as at ease with the robots as they were with each other. She approached one of the crossings of white and black, overseen by men of green and red. She stood, the people stood, the robots stood. And as always, she gripped her blade.

So are they blessed, or are they naive? She couldn't help but look at one of the machines next to her. No different from any of the others really, but its proximity made all the difference. Reminding her that the people of Iresia had considered themselves blessed, and above all other realms, before their own came crashing down around them.

The green man appeared. The people and machines began walking. Qhira, however, remained in place, unable to take her eyes off the sight. Perhaps they were blessed, she thought. Perhaps she'd entered a world where Iresia's dream had been realized, or at least, a city where that was the case. Perhaps she-

"Oof."

Someone bumped into her from behind, and to her shame, she stumbled over. Further to her shame, she drew out her blade and spun round, at the one who'd bumped into her in the first place.

Oh damnation.

Someone screamed, but Qhira barely heard it. The people and robots around them scattered, but she barely cared. What mattered to her now was that the person who'd bumped into her was a girl – eleven years old by her reckoning. A girl who was staring at Qhira and the sword she was carrying in horror.

"I'm…" Qhira trailed off. She quickly sheathed her sword and stuck out a hand. "I'm sorry."

The girl recoiled. She was clutching something close to her – some kind of black rectangular thing that reminded Qhira of a book, only it was without any pages.

"I'm sorry I…" She trailed off. The crowd had parted, but she realized it wasn't just due to her. It was to let the two men approach them. Both of them were wearing green uniforms with gold badges. One of them was human, the other a machine. Qhira guessed that they must be royal guards of some kind, given the authority they commanded over the crowd.

"Alright, what the hell's going on here?"

Authority over them, if not her. In Iresia's heyday, she'd commanded its knights. And these two were bereft of any spears or shields – all they were equipped with were little truncheons and dinky L-shaped things. Pistols, if she recalled correctly – the type that the pirates of Mistharbour bore. Differently designed, but still the same tool of death in the end.

"Ma'am?" asked the human. "You mind telling me what you're doing with a sword?"

Qhira gripped her chainsword. "Is it not legal to carry such a tool?"

The human turned to the robot. The robot's eyes flashed. The robot looked at her and said, "not illegal. But you are charged with drawing a deadly weapon on a child."

"I'm fine, by the way," the girl said. "Thanks for asking."

"See? She's fine," Qhira said. "Now if we can get on our way."

"No," said the human man. He took out a black rectangle – similar to the one the girl carried, but even smaller. "You've been charged with aggravated assault."

"With what?" Qhira asked.

"Aggravated assault," the royal guard snapped. "He looked at his black rectangle thing. "Name?"

"Qhira. But it-"

"Surname?"

She blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Surname, lady, surname."

"I have no surname. I am Qhira of Iresia and I…"

"Zeta," the man said with exasperation. "Run a scan."

The robot's eyes flashed again.

"Really, I'm fine," the girl whispered.

"Iresia, Qhira," the robot said. "No such person exists in Numbani Police Department databases."

The guard sighed. "Fine. Alright." He grabbed Qhira's wrist. "You're coming to the station until we-"

Qhira flipped him over. Someone screamed, but notably, not the girl.

"Officer Zeta-Eight, requesting immediate existence at crossing of Nyota and King Streets. Suspect is armed and considered dangerous!"

Considered? Qhira gave the robot a kick, sending it flying through the air a good six feet, unable to contain her smile. Still just considering it?

It was a moment of triumph followed by a moment of despair. People were screaming. Running. Just like they had at Iresia…when the city had burnt…when their lives had ended…all but the girl, who just stood there. Staring at her. Beholding the woman who'd just assaulted two royal guards. She met the girl's eyes, and Qhira saw in her the children she'd once sworn to protect. The children who the flame had not spared.

"I…" She shook her head, before drawing out her grappling hook and starting to run. She wanted to say that she was sorry. But after years of uttering those words, she'd come to realize that they had to meaning. All she could do now was what she'd always done.

Run.

Twenty-three minutes left.

That was how long Qhira had before she either used her shard to return to the Nexus or remain here, in this city. A city that was now on the hunt for her. She was sitting on top one of the buildings, and down below, she could see all manner of flying robots. Small box-shaped ones with two arms and single glowing eyes. None had come this high however – she suspected that they didn't believe she could climb their buildings so easily. After spending her youth climbing the spires of Iresia before joining the Royal Guard herself, there was nothing she couldn't climb. Which led her to reflect that in the twenty-two minutes and forty-six seconds that she had left, she had a choice to make. Stay here, in the possibility of finding a new life, or return to the Nexus, in the certainty of continued battle in a world she understood. She sat down on the roof and rubbed her hands along the sides of her body, shivering. High as the sun was right now, the wind's chill offset it, cutting through flesh, blood, and bone/

Perhaps they were right, Qhira reflected bitterly, remembering the taunts she'd experienced at King's Crest. I should wear something more modest. Or at least dress for cooler climes. Or-

"Hello Qhira."

She sprung to her feet and drew out her sword. A saucer-shaped robot was hovering above her, but that wasn't what caught her attention (or at least the majority of it). Rather, it was the ghost it was displaying. The ghost of the girl she'd encountered earlier. She gingerly reached out to the apparition, only for her hand to pass through it.

"It's a hologram, silly," the girl laughed.

Qhira decided not to ask what a hologram was. It was clear regardless that the girl wasn't really standing before her, and was using some kind of astral projection. That was all that mattered.

"So," the bounty hunter said. "You found me."

"Yep."

"Here to set the Royal Guard on me?"

"The what? You mean the policemen?"

Qhira nodded, even though she didn't know what pleasemen were.

"Nup," she said. "What happened. Can't say I'm fond of having a sword drawn on me, but hey, builds character. That's what my mum says."

"And where is your mother now?"

"In Cairo."

"I see…"

"Yeah, thing is, I'm not sure you do," the girl said.

"Indeed? And why's that?"

"Well, for starters, you're not speaking English, or any other Nigerian language – you're using some kind of translation device that's emanating energy like nothing my buddy here (she gestured to the flying device) has ever seen. Also, there's nothing on this planet called Iresia. And I've run an analysis of your sword, and it's forged out of elements not found on the Periodic Table. So, I can therefore ascertain that Iresia is not on Earth, and you're either from an alternate reality, or you're an alien in disguise."

Qhira stared at her.

"Or, y'know, I'm just crazy," the girl said, looking and sounding disheartened. "I mean, lots of people say I'm crazy. Others say I'm smart, but I sometimes it feels like I'm more crazy than smart, and-"

"You're not crazy," Qhira said. She smiled, and squatted down, so that her eyes were level with the hologram's. "What's your name?"

"Efi," the girl whispered. "Efi Oladele."

"Efi," Qhira said. "That's a nice name."

The girl shrugged.

"And fine, Efi," Qhira said. "You're right. I'm not from this city, or this world, and not from the place you refer to as Cairo. As you have guessed, Iresia was my home."

"Was?" Efi asked.

Qhira took a breath and sat down atop the building. "Do you like stories child? Because in the twenty-one minutes we have left, I can tell you one."

"Why twenty-one?"

"Because soon it will be twenty, and then I will make a choice, one that now, could go either way. So, shall I tell you my tale?"

The hologram of Efi sat down beside Qhira and nodded. And thus, taking a breath, the Last Daughter of Iresia imparted her story.

It was an abridged one, but it established the basics. The Nexus. Iresia. Its prosperity, and its downfall, as its people turned upon each other to slake their greed. Iresia burnt, and she'd fled, bearing its singularity as her realm collapsed around her. She later explained how she'd survived by being a bounty hunter – the Nexus was forever in a state of war, and one realm lord would pay a kingly sum for the heads of those who served their enemies. From Luxoria, to Dragon Shire, to the depths of the Warchrome Wastes, Qhira imparted her story. As she came to the end, she checked her pocket watch – eleven minutes and eight seconds left.

"And that's the story," Qhira said. "Any questions?"

"Um, yes. Did you save Kwanza as well?"

Qhira didn't know what Kwanza was, but she recognised a jibe when she heard it. "You don't believe me, do you?"

"Actually I do," Efi said.

"You do?"

"I do. It sounds insane, but…well, I do."

Qhira couldn't help but smile.

"But I don't understand one thing," Efi said. "Why come to Earth? I mean, this Nexus doesn't sound like a nice place, but why leave it?"

"Is this Earth so violent as my own world?"

Efi looked away, out over the cityscape. "Not now," she murmured. "At least not here. "But go back a few decades, and…" She took a breath, and Qhira saw how she was rubbing her hands together. "There was a war. The largest war the world had ever seen. A war when our mechanical creations rose up against us. We won, in the end, but at the cost of tens of hundreds of millions of lives." She stopped rubbing her hands and cast one over the cityscape. "This is Numbani – the City of Harmony. A place where humans and omnics can live together in peace. Even while in so many places in the world we fail to do so."

Qhira remained silent.

"But you still haven't answered why you came here," Efi said, looking at Qhira. "I mean, I don't think I'll ever understand how, but why?"

Qhira sighed – she cradled the singularity which hung around her neck in her hands, watching as the purple light within dimmed further with each passing second. "I came to…"

"To?"

"I bid the singularity take me somewhere. A place like Iresia of old. A portal opened, and I emerged in this place. Across all worlds, the singularity deemed Numbani most like my home. And now (she glanced at her pocket watch), I have nine minutes and forty-seven seconds left to decide whether I stay or return. Because after that, the portal will be closed forever."

Efi gave her a look.

"You may call me insane if you wish. Whatever the ways of your world, I am guessing that you do not have realm lords."

"No, but we still have some terrible people calling the shots," Efi sighed. She looked away from Qhira and back out over Numbani. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry your visit here wasn't more hospitable."

Qhira laughed. "Little one, I have encountered foes far deadlier than your pleasemen could ever hope to be. And you assume of course I will be staying."

"You're staying?" Efi asked excitedly.

Qhira frowned. "Perhaps. Or perhaps not. Perhaps I shall, perhaps I won't…perhaps I-"

"I think I understand," Efi said. "You want to stay – you're in a good place. A warm place. A place that feels like home. But duty bids you return, right? Find your people? Maybe build a new home for yourselves?"

Qhira remained silent.

"Bit of a doozy there, right?"

Qhira nodded, even if she didn't know what a doozy was.

"Well," Efi said, her hologram getting to its feet. "For what it's worth, I think you should go back."

Qhira grunted. "So eager to get rid of me?"

"What? No. Of course not. But you're a hero. And heroes keep fighting, no matter the odds. Just like the heroes who saved my world did in the war, you've got to be a hero and save your people."

"I am no hero, little one. I am naught but a bounty hunter."

"Oh don't be like that. You told me about how you're a hero. One of those Heroes of the Storm."

"Little one…"

"Don't call me that. I'm ten," the hologram snapped.

Qhira smirked. "Very well, Efi – you must understand that 'hero' means something different in my world than yours. A hero is little more than a slave to the realm lords who battle for dominion. I too have killed and died a hundred times in their service."

"You…died?" Efi asked.

"Yes, on the arranged arenas. But it matters not. I am no hero."

"But you are," Efi said. "Or you have to be."

"Why?" Qhira snapped.

"Because…because I want to be a hero someday. Just like Overwatch. One day I'm gonna be a hero, or build a hero, and the world's gonna be better, and…and you have to be a hero too."

Qhira smirked. "And if I say no?"

"Then…I'm gonna stop you?"

"With you and what army?" Qhira drew out her sword and slashed it at Efi, who let out an 'eek' and jumped back. The sword did nothing but cut through her hologram of course, but given the look in the ghost's eyes, Qhira could tell her point had been made.

"Fine," Efi said. "I've got no army. And I can't bring anything here in time to stop you. But I think you should go back, for whatever it's worth."

"What makes you think I value your thoughts, little one?"

"Because you're still here," Efi whispered.

Qhira said nothing. She did naught but look at her watch – six minutes, fifty-six seconds left. She pocketed it and again looked at her singularity. The last remnant of Iresia. The hope for her people. Her burden, as long as she carried it with her.

"Qhira?" Efi whispered.

She closed her eyes, and listened – not to Efi, but the world around her. The wind. The birds. The crackle of the sun. The voices drifting from below, and the chariots around them. She listened, and as long as she did, the voices of Iresia were drowned out. The roar of fire. The clang of sword upon sword. The screams of the guilty and innocent, of the young and old alike.

"Qhira," Efi said.

She opened her eyes, and whispered, "be grateful for your world, child. For it too may fall to destruction someday." She put her hand on the hologram's shoulder as best she could. "I know you will be a hero Efi. Near or soon, the world will know your name and never forget it."

"Why?" she whispered.

"For I will never forget your name," Qhira said. "You, who have convinced me to return. For while my heart bids me stay, duty bids that I depart back to the Nexus. That I find my people, and lead them to a new future. I have survived war, and if your world can rebuild, then so can mine. Perhaps a new Iresia will be a land of harmony, as it once was. As your city is."

Efi smiled, her holographic lips shimmering as brightly as the sun. "I knew you'd come through," she said.

Qhira laughed. "If only I knew myself." She took out her watch. "Now then – I have just over six minutes left to enjoy Numbani. What can you provide me in that time?"

Efi giggled. "Lady, you have no idea."

Perhaps she didn't.

But she smiled all the same.

A/N

At this point there's little I can say about Qhira (from a conceptual/lore standpoint) that hasn't been said already. That said, from what we've seen of Iresia, it does seem reminiscent of Numbani, hence the idea to drabble this up.