3 Tita

Universe #Ep-399n

Planet #V-Iavoin303

"I can finally go home." Tita lets out a deep, wistful sigh when she finally gets to go home. After all these years of tragedy, she finally gets to see her family, or what remains of them. The last time she heard from them was two months ago, in the form of a letter. Her brother passed away, her last form of direct kin, leaving only her distant uncle, whom she met at occasional parties and such even though they lived really close to each other. He's an eccentric person, working as a mortician. Even though she was so used to seeing bloodshed on the battlefield, it still hurt her deep down in her psyche. She hails from a cryptological family; her mother specialized in encoding messages in every way, shape, and form, while her father specialized in painting, covering her household in beautiful portraits and landscapes from head to toe, everything in the house being intricately designed to fit their needs. She recalls having fond memories of marveling at all the beautiful drawings she had seen since she could crawl. Her father had a very distinct style to his drawings; she could instantly tell what was his. In her youth, she learned the fundamentals of art and cryptology, but the real learning began when war broke out. She went with her mother while her brother stayed with her dad. She traveled far and wide, encoding vital military information in the hopes of gaining an advantage over their adversaries, whatever you want to call them: "monsters," "anomalies," "death bringers," "creatures of the hollow," etc. She had been extremely lucky not to encounter them for a long time. These journeys lasted years, during which she learned everything she could about cryptology from her mother and acquaintances. Sadly, her luck started wearing out. It first started with a message: her father died of illness, leaving her brother in her uncles' custody. That one hurt a lot. It was her first time having a personal loss; she remembered feeling guilty about not being able to attend the funeral and not being there to comfort her brother. She felt it was her duty as the older sibling, but she couldn't do anything. She was on the other side of the country. A couple years went by, and she got to heal a bit, but as if fate were playing a cruel game with her, just as she was moving on, death struck her again. She was working on decrypting some enemy intel when she received a telegraphed message stating that her mother had died in a gruesome attack by the enemy. You see, the war had already been going on for 9 years, and in 5 years, she learned everything she could from her mother and her coworkers, including vast knowledge on cryptology and much more. After ascending the ranks in personnel and getting personal missions, she could no longer stay with her mother, the military had to spread their talents to different parts of the country. The war had gone awry, with the enemies slowly surrounding the country and attacking it from different angles. They could get away with staying together with the excuse that she was an apprentice, but that couldn't slide anymore; she had in many ways surpassed her mother. So due to circumstances, they had to be separated. Even though she was proficient in her skills, she felt extremely anxious and scared during her first year; after all, she was only 16 at the time. Over time, she got used to it. What helped ease her mind was the constant communication she could have with her mother. With the latest technology available to the military, telegraphs, they were able to communicate almost instantly while employing a new form of encryption. Years went by until the day of the tragedy, and what truly hurt her the most was the fact that she and her mother had accumulated many merit points, almost enough to be able to retire in a year, not having seen her brother for 9 years and her mom for 4. It truly drove her into a deep depression; however, she persevered; she had the fortitude to keep going. She made it her goal to be able to take care of her brother once she got back and spend her days doting on him. And so, she went to work. Months passed by, and she accumulated merit points like a madwoman. Going to the edges of the country, accepting high-danger missions, and gambling on her wellbeing to get this over with. She kept this routine until she got that dreaded letter. Her life came crashing down; she felt the walls caving in on her; she hyperventilated and felt like throwing up; she did, in fact, throw up. All her hard work vanished suddenly before her eyes. She truly felt dread—massive dread. She remained in this state for a week. It was so bad that eventually the country decided that she had done enough; she only needed a few more merit points anyways, so they let her depart, and so she traveled for months on her carriage, emotionless, not a single word coming out of her. This brings us to the present. She is in front of her house, with her uncle next to her. He doesn't say much; he just hands her the keys and starts departing to his own house; as he's getting out of reach, he says, "Stay safe." Tita stayed on the porch of her house for what seemed like hours. She felt nostalgia but also anxiety; she didn't know why; could it be because she hadn't been there for 10 years? Or maybe because she was the only one standing in the 2-story house. She draws a deep breath and slowly opens the gates to the house. The first thing she sees are the tombstones laid out in a row next to a giant tree; she remembered it being just a branch when she was there. With flowers in hand, she goes to the tombstones and lays them slowly on each one. Even though the house was old, it looked in great condition. Her brother had made sure to take care of it until he passed. After a while of speaking to them, she started going towards the front door. She took another deep breath and slowly put in the keys to the house. *click* .. She opens the door. *creeeak*

'I have to oil that down.' She noted. She fully opens the door and steps inside. She drops her luggage, begins to shake uncontrollably, her eyes well up with tears, and her voice becomes stuck in her tongue. She thought she would be ok, that she had already wept, that she had already moved on, but as soon as she saw it with her own eyes, she couldn't help but break down. While it was not as she remembered it, the house still had the same essence. Everything was new, but she could tell that they were her fathers' work. I mean, of course. During all that time, he would not stop painting, would he? She slowly started walking in the house, mesmerized by the drawings and furniture. It was extremely serene. Having seen so much bloodshed and chaos, being in this quiet house made her feel like she was healing. Watching the drawings was somewhat therapeutic for her, and she would slowly walk the hallways, examining all the corners and creases of the house. At the beginning, she was slightly taken aback. She could tell that some of the drawings weren't her father's, but it quickly occurred to her that they were her brothers' paintings. While she learned cryptology from her mom, her brother learned everything there is to know about art from her dad. That was the sole reason they decided to separate in such a way to begin with; from a young age, she excelled mostly in the teachings of her mother while her brother was more talented in the arts. As she walked about, she stopped at her parents' room. She stopped for a bit and after a while she stepped in, but before that she noticed that different sections of the house were decorated by her father while others were done so by her brother, and some of them were collaborative efforts, either having them both draw on one canvas or having a pattern for whose canvas would be put where. As this was her parents' room, she guessed it would be filled with her dad's work, and she was right; she could tell her father's work from a mile away. She stayed there for a long time, slowly watching the drawings, following their paint strokes, and looking at the composition. She slowly walked until she got to the corner of the room. She was looking at a painting, a lovely painting of a landscape with a house in it, specifically this house. She looked at it with glazed eyes as she followed the painting's structure; she then noticed a slight anomaly with the painting. "Ahh, my brother most likely worked on this painting as well." She reasoned this way because the more she observed, the more inconsistencies she noticed with the painting; it appeared that her father painted it first and her brother came later and finished or modified it in some way. On closer inspection, she noticed that the inconsistent areas had a slightly thicker layer of paint, as if someone had painted over an already-established painting. She observes that the left side of the painting was created by her father, while the right side was created by her brothers. The more she looked at it, the weirder she found it; while it was obvious that the slightly discolored parts were her brothers' doing, she could also tell that there were slight parts on the left side that were also tempered. It wasn't obvious at first because it appeared homogeneous, but upon closer inspection, she could tell there were some parts painted over. It was strange, though, because this time they were simply following the strokes; however, the way they were painted over suggested it had a pattern to it. With her extensive knowledge, she started to notice the pattern. Some parts were painted over more than once, resulting in even thicker paint layers than others, which seemingly had only one do-over. They were also painted over on specific objects in the painting. "Apple... socks on a clothes hanger... squirrel," She began to investigate. She continued until she said, "Basement... family picture." "Check the basement for the family picture." The way she solved it was by watching the thickness of the do-overs to get the order while linking to a tampered object in the painting with either word association or getting the letter of the object itself. Instantly she goes to her basement, and on the way there she notices that the path leading there is mostly her brother's work. She puts it in the back of her head and goes down to the basement. She discovers a single painting there. It's an old family portrait of her family, one where her dad was in a really goofy mood and added a ton of absrtract objects alongside them. The first thing she noted was the consistency of the do-overs. While the one in her parents' room was a little sloppy and hastily done, this one was barely noticeable. If she hadn't seen the one in her parents' room, she would have never been able to think there was anything wrong with it. This one seemed to be decoded differently, while having a bunch of red herrings to lead people off in different directions. After a week of decoding everything, she got it. The painting had a triple encryption, from the frame of the painting to how it was hung. It also led to a connection to a bunch of other paintings in the house with vast ways of hiding information, hence the whole week. What was funnier was the last and only meaningful encrypted message. 'Stay safe.' It seems she is going to have to go to her uncle for more information.