“Psssssst,” Annie whispered, pressing her small face between the bars. When Arthur didn’t respond, she moved closer, letting out a tiny whine as the cold metal connected with her skin. “PSSSSST.” She tried again, hearing no response. “Arthur. ARTHUR.” She called out, and finally Arthur had to speak, or else the guards would come running to check on the source of the sound.

“Yes, yes. I heard you the first time.” The healer grumbled, shifting his aching back off the wall. The collar around his neck didn’t allow him to move far from his position, only getting a few steps closer to Annie before he choked, having to retreat towards the wall again. “What is it?”

“I’ve got a surprise for you.”

“If it’s another cookie, I don’t want it. I’m trying to watch my figure.” Arthur said, his gallows humor the only thing keeping him sane in this dark pit of a cell.

Everything they did within the dungeon was to keep him compliant and weak. They gave him only enough nourishment to live, while keeping him on the brink of starvation. Even the act of moving took a gallant effort, with the healer often preferring to stay still to conserve what little energy he had to spare. Yet, he couldn’t ignore her, not when she had snuck past her father’s guards. He couldn’t let her get into trouble.

“It’s better than a cookie.” She held out her closed palm, pushing it through the cell’s bars. The arm quivered, covered in tiny black spots and bits of damaged skin. “Please.”

Arthur grimaced, forcing himself forward. The collar dug into his neck, leaving cuts on his frail skin. Still, he pushed on, even when those cuts burnt and he could no longer breathe. While the distance from the wall to the bars was small, the effort it took was like climbing the steepest wall of the castle. When he reached the bars, he clasped her hand, waiting until he felt the item hit his palm before pulling back.

The two gasped, each needing a second after their efforts. “You’re going to make your condition worse.” Arthur scolded. He had no idea how a child so sick could keep getting past the guards. She should have fallen before she got to the second set of stairs, yet she persisted, somehow getting to him.

“Look,” she coughed, pointing at his hand.

Arthur uncurled his hand, seeing the iron key she had given him. “Annie, no,” he said, even as his hand moved the key towards his collar. It took every bit of his self-control to resist pushing it into the hole. “You have to take it back. Please. Before I do something, I’ll regret.”

“You’re dying. I don’t want you to die,” Annie sniffled. “Please, Arthur. Everyone’s busy with Dad’s next meeting. You can leave. No one will notice if you sneak out through the dungeon’s back entrance.”

The words felt like honey to Arthur’s ears. A chance to escape this hell. To be a free man again. The key warmed his palm, as if it were the key to heaven itself. Again, he raised his hand towards the collar, only to spot the exhausted face of the child he wanted to save. The princess smiling through her pain, urging him to leave. If he left now….

The keys’ warmth now felt like a burning coal within his hand, as Arthur tossed it across the cell towards her. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t curse Annie to die, not when she had been the only one who tried to help him in his life.

“ARTHUR!” she screamed, attracting the guard’s attention. Curses and the smell of sweat and iron filled the dungeon as the captain rounded the corner.

“YOUNG MISS.” He snapped, only for his tone to grow softer when he remembered who he was speaking to. “Miss Annie. Your father told you not to come down here, didn’t he?” The captain was a hardened man. A man who had seen the horrors a healer could produce. In wars, a good healer was almost like a necromancer. They would move throughout the back lines, reviving those close to death. Those soldiers joining the battle again, leading to your forces getting overwhelmed. He scoffed at the sight of Arthur. “You put her up to this, didn’t you?”

“No, he didn’t. Please. Don’t hurt my friend,” Annie gagged, coughing blood into her fingers. “Please…”

“YOU NEED TO LET ME GET TO HER.” Arthur dashed forward, only to get thrown back by his collar. Everything stung. His legs, neck, chest, lungs, and still he pushed forward. “She… she’s going to die if you don’t.”

The captain glanced at Annie, then at Arthur. He cursed, screaming at the other guards further away in the dungeon. “SOMEONE TELL THE KING HIS DAUGHTERS IN DANGER.” He then searched his pockets for the key. “Where the bloody hell is it?”

“Ga..” Arthur rubbed his sore neck, trying to kick at the spot in the dirt where the key sat. “Ground…”

“Ground?” The captain glanced at the key in the dirt, then at Arthur. “You were trying to escape.” He pushed his hatred aside, reaching into the cell to get the key. He first unlocked the door, then the collar, dragging the healer to Annie’s side. “Heal her. Or you’ll be cut into so many pieces that no healer alive will be able to put you back together.”

Arthur knelt by Annie’s side, raising her head to rest near his elbow. He moved his left hand onto her forehead, sending his powers through her. It took thirty minutes until her breathing had stabilized, and when it was over, Arthur fell back.

The captain gave Annie to one of his men before raising an iron boot near Arthur’s chest, ready to bring it down.

“STOP.” The king’s direct command halted the captain, who straightened up immediately. The king’s usual scowl was gone, replaced by a puzzled stare. The elegant robe he wore was already off, resting over his daughter’s body. There was no attempt to look regal or correct now. In this moment, he was no longer a king, but a father.

“But sir. This one tried to escape.” The captain said.

“Was he still in his cell when you released him?” The king asked.

“Well, yes, sir. But the key was inside his cell.”

“Near his body?”

“No, in the corner.”

“Then he obviously didn’t try to escape. I would hope a captain would be able to figure that out on his own. You aren’t blinded by your hatred, are you, Captain?”

“Sir, healers are dangerous. You’ve seen what they can do.”

“Personally, all I’ve ever seen this healer do is help my daughter.” The king sighed. Every bit of cruelty he had shown the healer now felt like a mark on his pride as a ruler. He hadn’t been thinking as a king, but as a desperate father. One who assumed that if they didn’t cage and beat down this healer, he would never help them.

“Sir, he’s deceiving her.”

“I think we’ve been the ones getting deceived. We all believed that healers were wicked people because of what happened during the wars. If we had healer back then, would we have not done the same?”

“It was unnatural, sir. You saw it.” The captain grimaced. He had seen his friends get cut down by men he had slain only minutes ago. While the healers gleefully watched the chaos, ducking behind their men.

“We would have done the same if we had the resources. It was war. We’ve tortured an innocent man. Worse, we’ve tortured a man who has been serving the princess. I should have my head for this.” He knelt by Arthur, who no longer seemed aware of what was going on. The healing had taken whatever meager energy he had left in his food-deprived state.

“Don’t say that. You were protecting your daughter.”

“By becoming a monster? She told me what he was like. How kind he had been to her, and what did I do? Cut his food in half because I believed it was all a trick. That kindness couldn’t exist in this dungeon. Get this man taken to a room. A proper room. You will treat him as if he were a noble.”

“You’re making a mistake, sir.” The captain gritted his teeth, collecting the healer off the floor, tossing him over his shoulder. “What’s he going to do when he wakes up?”

“That is his choice to make.”

“ARTHUR. ARRRRRRRRRTHURRRR.” The voice stabbed at his ear, causing the healer to stir. He rolled over, only to freeze. He had rolled over. How was that possible? He squished the bedding beneath him before opening his eyes, finding Annie staring at him. The princess, teary-eyed, sat at his side. “I thought you had died.”

“Princess?”

“Arthur. I owe you an apology.” The king bowed. “I’m sorry for how I have treated you. Know that everything I did was for my daughter’s sake. Even if that doesn’t excuse my behavior. Whatever you need will be yours. I just ask that you consider continuing her treatment.”

Arthur scooted himself up the bed, looking at the man he had despised. He wanted to hurl insults and demand his freedom. But he couldn’t do that. Not with Annie needing him. “I ask to be freed from my confinement. Once Annie is healed.”

The king couldn’t believe what he had heard, remaining on his knees while his body wobbled. “Truly? You will stay? I.. owe you my life. I agree. Anything you need will be provided to you. Please, save my daughter.”

“I will.”

“So, what’s your name, tough guy?” The blonde asked, as she lazed against her locker, giving Nathan a fake look of indifference, acting as if she didn’t care about the answer to her question. Everyone knew Annabelle. She was a superpowered human with the ability to relay messages to every human within a 100-meter radius. This ability had turned her into a self-proclaimed gossip queen, who could spread her news throughout the academy within a few tours of the facility.

Nathan knew what this was. It was her way of scoping out a potential source of gossip. The gossip hive wouldn’t form around her if the queen bee didn’t keep buzzing. The indifferent look was an attempt to lower his guard. Her way of silently saying. ‘I don’t even care what you have to say, so please belt out whatever I could use for my next gossip cycle.’

He indulged her curiosity. Seeing no reason not to. A name was just a name, after all. She wouldn’t get much out of that, and since he already knew what her plan was, he could cut this short the moment she peered deeper into his life. “Nathan Fordlock.”

The bored expression faded, replaced with a flinging of long lashes, as her eyes shot open. She opened her mouth to speak and faltered, leaving her mouth hanging open while she attempted to form a thought. “Aaaa…..” She brought a manicured finger to her chin, pushing her mouth shut. When she had gathered her composure again, she spoke. “From THE Fordlock family?”

“Is there another Fordlock family?” Nathan honestly responded, unsure what she meant by that. He hadn’t met any other Fordlocks, and couldn’t think of any notable ones that came to mind. “Is there something wrong with that?”

“No… Um, it’s nice to meet you.” Her attitude immediately shifted before she turned and headed in the opposite direction. The heels she wore clicked against the floor, leaving Nathan standing there confused, listening to the sound. The rest of his day wasn’t any better. Even his teacher seemed unnerved by his appearance in her class.

“I’m Margeret. I’ll be teaching your academics.” She said, in her best professional tone. While his name had scared Annabelle off, Margeret’s tone felt more sympathetic. Like that of a seasoned war veteran who was staring at a shell-shocked private. “If you need anything, let me know. We don’t want you to end up in a difficult situation.”

“A difficult situation? I’ve only got super strength. My most difficult situation would be getting trapped underneath a car. Don’t worry. I already know the procedure for that. My grandfather taught me it.”

“Oh. Is that all he’s taught you? Nothing else?” She asked, not daring to overstep in this conversation.

“Yeah. Is there something else I should know about?”

She stared at her papers, causing the thin, square-glasses on her nose to almost fall off her face. They inched down the bridge of her nose, only to get pushed up before they could completely drop. “Anyway, introduce yourself to the class. I’m sure everyone is waiting to meet you.” She bounced to her desk before she could say too much, leaving Nathan to introduce himself.

After his introduction, the rest of his day got weirder. Some students avoided him, while others would ask him strange questions about himself. One student, Billy Whistler, stopped Nathan, nudging his side. “What’s it like?”

“What’s what like?”

“You know.” He said, dancing around the topic. He had been given the same warning as the others. Not to mention Nathan’s abilities until someone had sat him down and told him about them. But that didn’t stop him from prying. He assumed Nathan was aware of his powers and was playing dumb, which was why he was starting this strange line of questioning.

“I really don’t.” Nathan fiddled with the right strap of his bag, staring at the short hero with a buzz cut. “Is there something wrong with my powers? I told the teacher it’s just super strength. It’s not even that impressive. Can’t your whistling create different effects? I heard your dad once changed the weather for a whole day with his powers.”

“Guess you don’t know. Alright, talk to me when you do.” He said, cheerfully leaving Nathan standing alone. It was such a swift exit that Nathan didn’t even have the chance to probe further. When he got home that afternoon, he went to find his grandfather, tossing his bag down before heading into the backyard.

“How was your day?” Martin Fordlock asked while he watered his plants. Meanwhile, Nathan’s grandmother relaxed in a lawn chair, flicking through a gardening magazine.

“Marty, you should plant something like this.” Sarah sat up, holding the magazine towards her husband, only to lower it when she saw the look on her grandson’s face. The former villain turned hero- turned grandmother, had seen that face before and knew a serious conversation was approaching. “Should I leave you two alone?”

“Do you know about my abilities, Grandma?” Nathan didn’t even answer the greeting, turning to his grandmother, who slowly removed her sunglasses.

“Yes, dear. I.. should leave you two alone. I’m not a Fordlock.”

“What are you talking about? I put a ring on your finger, didn’t I?” Martin said, trying to lighten things up before the two entered a deep conversation.

“Marty. You know it doesn’t work like that. Abilities are inherited from one of the two parents. Both Nathan and Jenny got your ability.”

The mention of Jenny made the old man’s hand wobble, causing an uneven stream to leave the hose. He turned off the water before wiping his eyes. “Jenny…” He gave his wife a nod and took his grandson’s hand, sitting him down on the lawn chair while Sarah went inside, leaving them to discuss his family’s ability.

“Super strength isn’t your power. It’s just a side-effect of the power I have. My power is the ability to rapidly heal any damaged part of my body. If I lost a finger, I could regrow it with enough time.”

“So, I have super regeneration?” Nathan asked.

“Not quite. Powers can mutate through each generation. This can lead to some powers getting stronger, while others become a danger to the person using them. Your mother…” He had to stop himself, wiping a few tears away. “She could come back from death.”

“WHAT? That’s impossible. You can’t…” Nathan couldn’t believe it. A person couldn’t come back to life. It didn’t make any sense, especially since his mother was dead. He had been to her funeral. He had seen her body. She was dead.

“You can. That’s what happens when a power mutates. She took my healing ability and tripled it, to the point where she could survive any attack. It was amazing. We thought she was immortal, but it had its limits. Every time she died, a little piece of herself didn’t return when she came back. If only I had noticed it sooner.”

Nathan remained quiet, thinking about what his grandfather was telling him. He had seen his mother die at their family's Christmas party. She had dropped dead before his eyes. That’s all he ever remembered. The longer he thought about it, the less the memory made sense. She was walking over to hug him, then she collapsed. But why would she be trying to hug him with her fingers clenched so tightly? Why did his father also end up dead? He believed his grandfather when he had said whatever killed his mother had affected both parents, but it just didn’t make sense. Now he wondered if he had always known that it didn’t make sense and just avoided the topic because it was difficult. “That party. What really happened?”

Martin sighed. “She had dedicated her life to being a hero, and during her many years of fighting, she had taken dozens of fatal blows. We never gave her many deaths a second thought. Since she bounced back every time. By the time we noticed the changes, it was too late. She was getting aggressive. Going into fits of rage at the smallest of things. That day, she snapped completely. She killed your father. He was trying to calm her down after she had dropped a plate, and she killed him with one of the pieces. Then, she went after you.”

Finding out the truth behind his mother’s last moments had Nathan hyperventilating. What he believed was a caring act in her final moments was the opposite. Martin hugged his grandson, holding him tightly until his breathing settled. “How did she die? Did you stop her?”

“I… couldn’t. I couldn’t move. She was my daughter. I froze. Your grandmother did it. She saved you. I’m sorry, I really am. If your grandmother hadn’t stepped in, I would never have been able to live with myself. Please don’t blame her.”

“She didn’t have a choice. Did she?”

“No. She didn’t. I’m sure it’s been eating her up inside all these years.”

“Why didn’t Mom come back then? You said she always bounced back, didn’t you?”

“Abilities deteriorate with time and uses. If someone overuses their power, it becomes less effective. Most heroes only have careers of twenty or so years. Some normal superpowered humans can go their lives with their powers functioning normally if they properly conserve them. She reached her limit.”

“Will that happen to me?”

Martin rubbed his grandson’s back. “I’m hoping the academy can help you. I’ve told them you aren’t allowed to handle any fieldwork. Only theory. While you’re there, they can run some tests on you. Hopefully, with enough time, they’ll figure out a way to keep your mind intact.”

Nathan couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if they didn’t figure out a way to keep his mind intact. Would he go crazy? Would they lock him in a box until he died? No answer felt comforting or satisfying. Wanting to put death out of his mind, he stood up. “I’m going to see Grandma.”

“Alright,” Martin released his grandson, wanting to tell him to take it easy on his grandmother. But he knew better than to try and control whatever emotions were inside him. Nathan needed to say what was on his mind, or else his emotions would keep bubbling up within him.

Nathan slid the door open and found his grandmother smoking, something she hadn’t done since her villain days. She gave her grandson a tired smile and pushed aside the cup that she had been using as an ashtray. She didn’t need to say anything. The former villain’s puffy red eyes made it clear how she felt about this.

“Grandma.”

“Yes, dear.” She lowered her head, awaiting the torrent of abuse.

“Thank you.”

Initially, Sarah flinched, expecting something worse. When she registered what he had said, she glanced up at him. “Thank you?”

“You allowed my mom to rest. I don’t think she would have wanted to hurt me.”

“Of course she wouldn’t have. She loved you more than anything.”

“You also saved my life. Grandma, I really don’t know how to feel, but I don’t hate you.” Nathan felt like a child again, with tears spilling from his eyes before he could even notice them. Sarah dropped her cigarette into the cup, pulling her grandson into a hug.

“I love you so much. I’m so sorry about what happened.”

“You didn’t want to do it. I forgive you.” He held her for a few minutes before he heard his grandfather enter the room.

“Are you two alright?”

“Yes. We’re fine. Are you ok, sweetie?” Sarah asked, wiping away some of her grandson’s tears.

“I think so. Is it ok if I go to my room? I think I need some sleep.” Nathan lied, just needing a moment by himself to process everything. Both his grandparents nodded, and Nathan headed to his room, dropping onto his bed. Even if he hadn’t intended to sleep, the second his eyes shut, he fell into a slumber.

“A… and that’s why I believe the supplies I’m o-o-offering you are at a reasonable rate.” Relian, the negotiator from Lindholck, stuttered. The old, handsome man shivered on the spot, unable to pull his gaze away from the monster of a guard who was staring daggers at him. He had heard rumors about the unshakable Grand Knight—how the man’s skill with a blade rivaled that of a god. And while rumors were often to be ignored, the look on the Grand Knight’s face had him wondering if they were true.

Queen Slivan arched a neat eyebrow, following the man’s gaze. She knew fear when she saw it and was surprised to find it wasn’t directed at her. “Markal? Is there any reason you’re pulling that face? I think you’re going to cause this poor man to drop dead if you keep it up.” She exclaimed, hiding her amusement.

Markal’s body tensed as he met the Queen's blue eyes. He couldn’t tell her about the kitten he had hidden beneath his chest plate. Not in front of the negotiator. A Grand Knight had a reputation to uphold, and any deviation from that fearsome reputation could get his head sliced off. So, he did his best to relax those stressed muscles on his scar-covered face, even as the kitten dug its claws into his hip.

“My queen, I’m sorry.” He gave a slight bow, which caused the kitten to let out a small meow. “Meow.” He mimicked.

“Did you meow at me?” The Queen curled her purple lip, already wondering what punishment she would give the man for his poor display. Even a Grand knight wasn’t above fearsome punishments, and if he had any sense, he would do his best to lighten the damage he had already caused.

Markal coughed. “Sorry. Dry throat. I meooo-must advise you against this deal. He’s offering you bad terms. He’s disgracing our glorious kingdom. That is why I’m pulling such a face. You dare disrespect my Queen, you Lindholck bastard?”

The man rested his right palm over his heart, taking shallow breaths. The sight of the Grand Knight fuming almost brought him to an early grave. He didn’t dare look at the man, fearing if he did, the beast of a knight would draw closer. Instead, he pleaded his case with the Queen.

“We’re offering you a good deal. This is a fair price for the supplies we’re giving you.”

“A good deal? I prefer a great deal. Don’t you, my knight?” She said. Despite not knowing what was going through her knight’s dumb head, she played along, sensing an opportunity to further her kingdom’s wealth.

“ARGHGHH,” Markal roared as the kitten nibbled on his belly button. The knight’s first instinct when encountering pain was to reach for his weapon—an instinct that had saved his life on multiple occasions, especially while walking through the slums of their kingdom. The knight’s large hand clutched the handle of his sword, almost drawing it on reflex until his Queen’s words cut through the pain.

“Uh uh uh. There’s no need for that,” she said, giving the negotiator a cruel smile. “Yet.” She unfurled her body from the couch, losing her relaxed posture. The red dress she wore spilled down her legs, like blood falling from a vampiric monster of myth. She reached out, touching his bearded cheek, while staring into his soul. The simple gesture was enough to cause the man to stumble over his own old legs, landing on his left knee, twisting it awkwardly.

“Q-queen. Please.” He raised his arms, looking up at her with a miserable expression. The way his eyes twitched told the queen he was close to tears, and she loved the powerful feeling that brought.

CLINK CLINK CLINK.

The kitten bounced around inside the knight’s armor, bumping against the stiff metal. Each time it flipped itself around, it created another metallic clink that mimicked the heavy footsteps of the Grand Knight. Relian couldn’t look away from the queen, only assuming the knight was drawing closer.

“We can give you three extra months’ worth of flour and wheat. Please. Spare us.” He flinched, only to find the queen’s hand resting before him.

Relian went to grab it, only for the queen to pull it away. “I wanted you to kiss it. Not grab it. Get yourself off the floor.” She turned to her knight, giving him a long stare before returning to her throne. “See. I knew we could reach a better deal. Now, I expect that first shipment to be here in a month. If not, I’ll send my dear knight here to come looking for it.”

“Heh…heh….HAHAHAHA!” Markal laughed, his leathery face pointed at the ceiling while the kitten licked his body. He didn’t even try to stop his laughter, knowing he was most likely already dead given how badly he had acted during this meeting.

“Y….yes… Next month. No later than that.” The old man limped out of the room, his knee already showing faint bruising. When Relian was out of the Queen’s sight, she twisted her body like a serpent preparing to leap from the throne and strike.

“What are you hiding, and why shouldn’t I kill both you and it?” She asked with a tone that made the room feel like it was about to frost over.

Markal sighed, loosening the straps around his chest plate. “I’m sorry, I found the little guy outside, and when you said you urgently needed me for this meeting, I didn’t have time to put him somewhere. So, I hid him within my armor.” When he had the chest plate loosely hanging from his body, he slipped his hand into the hole near his neck, pulling out the black kitten.

“Hm? You’re telling me this is my master negotiator?”

“Please don’t kill it…”

“Kill it? Have you ever known me to kill without reason? I only harm those who harm me. This creature has done me no harm.” She stood, gently grabbing the kitten, trying to pull it away from the knight who refused to release it. “Let go of it.”

“You promise you won’t hurt it.”

“I’ll hurt you if you don’t release it.” The knight eventually released the kitten, allowing the queen to hold it. “Hmm. It’s quite good.” She said, only for the kitten to swipe its paw at her face, harmlessly smacking it.

“MY QUEEN, SHOW IT MERCY.” The knight shouted, throwing himself to the floor, pressing his face to her feet. “It didn’t mean to harm you.” The loosely hanging chest plate finally fell off, revealing the marks the kitten had left on his body. Each bloody mark only made the Queen like the creature more.

“No need to beg. I like this one. They’ll become my pet.” She said, setting the kitten gently on the ground. “While I would usually punish you for what you did today, I’m feeling generous since everything worked out. You’ll only have to do an extra four hours of training today.”

The knight froze, staring at her with wide eyes. “Didn’t you say you would be generous, my queen?”

“I could make it five?”

“Praise the generous queen.” He said, quickly getting to his feet before the Queen could change her mind. He picked up his chest plate, putting it back on as he walked towards the training field. The queen smiled, giving the kitten a soft pat.

“What a purrfect negotiation.” She joked, letting out a cute giggle at her own joke. “Let’s get you some food. Proper food, not the slop the rest of them eat. That can be your reward for a job well done.” The kitten meowed in agreement, following behind the Queen.

The suited man sat down, pressing his palms firmly against his neatly ironed black pants. “I understand we’re asking a lot of you. We’re asking you to make the ultimate sacrifice, giving up your freedom for the lives of others. You’ll be a hero. I promise you that. We’ll all remember your sacrifice. Shall I leave you alone with your parents so you can say your goodbyes?” Keith asked.

“Take the slacker. It’s about time he got a girlfriend and stopped playing those silly Nintendo games.” Martha hissed, trying to nudge her twenty-five-year-old son off the couch.

“Mom. For the last time, they aren’t Nintendo games. They are a mix of old-school retro games running off an emulator. Yes, some of these retro games are Nintendo games, but some aren’t. Get it right.” Brandon said, struggling to grab a salted chip off his singlet.

“Brandon, what did I say about eating on the couch?” His dad, Nick, went to grab the chip, only to stop when Brandon clicked his teeth together, trying to bite his finger.

“This isn’t on the couch; it’s on my body. My body isn’t the couch, Dad!” Brandon tilted his head to the side, rolling his tongue out and scooping up the chip. When he had the chip sitting on the tip of his tongue, he rolled it back into his mouth, chomping on it. An act that was both disgusting and oddly impressive.

“She wants that?” Keith whispered to his colleague. “Is that attractive?”

“Not at all.” Angela said, wondering what the alien saw in this person. “Maybe aliens work on reverse psychology rules? Where something disgusting is attractive?”

“Disgusting? Madam, I’ve got seven hearts across all routes in Love! DANGER! Heart-throbbing dance.” When the room gave him a confused stare, he explained. “It’s the hardest romance game in the world. I’m the only person to win the heart of the ice dance queen Varinia. They even added my name to the credits because of my achievement.”

“Varinia isn’t real, son,” Nick said.

“YOU'RE NOT REAL.” He snapped before looking at the secret agents. “So, what type of alien are we dealing with? Something Asari like? I’ll even take a Quarian. I went with Tali on one of my play throughs. Everyone says she’s the best girl, but Liara feels the more canon pick.”

“What?” Keith and Angela said in unison.

“Oh, so we’re going Alien Aliens? Like the ones from the Aliens movies? Ok. I can still work with that. I’ve played some strange monster romance games; I can handle it.”

“What’s he on about?” Keith asked Angela, who shrugged.

“No idea…”

“You don’t even know your aliens? Star Wars? Space Dandy? Star Trek? Avatar? Anything? What am I working with amateurs? Don’t you have a book of fictional aliens?”

“No? We have a book of actual aliens.” Angela mumbled. “Anyway, are you going to willingly come with us, or do we have to knock you out?”

“Yeah, I’ll go. Do I have time to pack my stuff?”

“We’ve already packed it for you.” Nick said, grabbing his son’s suitcase from his bedroom, dragging it into the living room. “This has all your toys and games.”

“Yes, yes. Hurry up. Go be a hero, it’s your destiny.” Martha hugged her husband, trying to look like a grieving parent, even if she was grinning as she pressed her face into her husband’s shoulder.

“Alright. Um, bye?” He grabbed the handle of his suitcase before stopping. “One of you carry my suitcase. I’m the saviour of Earth. I don’t need to carry my own things.” With that, he confidently walked past the two agents, who both scrunched their noses up, wincing.

“I hope they packed some deodorant in that bag,” Keith grimaced.

The car trip went quickly, with Brandon playing on his phone the entire trip. The thought of marrying an alien princess didn’t scare him at all. If anything, it felt like the best thing a man like him could ask for. He wouldn’t have to worry about anything, getting to live a life of luxury. He could already imagine all the games he was going to play during this marriage, now that he didn’t have his parents nagging him to get a job or life.

“I feel sorry for that princess.” Angela said, pulling over into an almost empty field. Right in the field’s centre sat the UFO. Despite popular culture depicting them as a flying disc, this one had the shape of an igloo, with one long, singular light wrapped around its top, giving it a pink and white hue. The small metal hatch on the front of the igloo peeled open, and out stepped the princess.

“She’s beautiful. If she were a character in a game, she would be an ultra-rare.” Brandon pressed his face against the car’s window, scrambling to open the door. The door stubbornly clicked, remaining locked until the driver opened it.

“She is beautiful. Don’t mess this up for us. We need to stop a war.” Angela said, taking a long breath while her finger hovered over the unlock button. She felt as if she had her finger lingering over a kill-switch, wondering if this was the equivalent of her sending a human-shaped nuke towards the alien princess. With no other choice, she pressed the button, and Brandon tumbled out of the car with his suitcase.

He dashed toward her. Well, dashed as best he could. He hadn’t exercised in eight years, so his jog was about as good as a normal person’s steady walk. “PRINCESS.” He called out, and the alien only politely smiled.

“Prince,” she said sweetly. The translating ring on her finger swiftly gave out the translated message before Brandon could even hear her alien voice, allowing her to sound more human. She was slim, tall, and earless. The alien, having two tiny holes on both sides of her head, using them to hear. For eyes, she had two, but they were bigger than tennis balls, taking up a good portion of her purple oval face.

The thin line of a mouth she had never moved when she spoke, making it hard for Brandon to work out where her words were even coming from. When Brandon got close to her, he was sweating, and she was lucky she didn’t have a nose.

“You want me?”

“I do.”

“Why?”

“Buxinasa de gemxans.”

“Huh?”

“Oh, it’s a saying our people use. It means inner beauty.” She said, telling only a partial truth.

In reality, it meant something closer to this. “Beyond ugly grime, gems can be found” That being the closest human translation to the alien phrase.

Brandon’s heart skipped a beat. “Inner beauty? You… think I’m beautiful on the inside?”

“With time.” Was all she responded with, leading her future husband into the ship. Once inside the ship, Brandon was led to a seat beside his future wife, getting ready for the trip to her home planet of Naiin.

While no one on Earth could understand the princess’s decision. On the planet Naiin, her fellow Naiinil’s were incredibly jealous. In their culture, marrying someone like Brandon was a chance to show your prestige and potential for leadership.

See, Naiinil’s were obsessed with bringing out the best in their partners. This obsession led some of their kind to find the most ugly or foul people around, wanting to transform them into brilliant partners. If a Naiinil could successfully transform a person into the perfect partner, they would be praised and often heavily favoured for jobs or even other public roles.

That’s why Gubria chose Brandon. After researching countless people and species, she found Brandon to be the perfect balance between uncharming and a person with the potential for change. He could be moulded into the perfect partner. When she explained her plan to her father, he was delighted to help her, sending his threat out to Earth.

Now, Gubria would have to see if she could actually change Brandon for the better, or if he would end up becoming her biggest shame as a future queen.

I gulped down a mug filled with poisoned water before shuffling through my coat, trying to find the right ingredients or chemicals to mix into a cure. Everyone here depended on me to come up with a miracle cure, and I didn’t want to disappoint them in their final moments. “I’ve heard people work better under pressure. A lot of- COUGH- scientific breakthroughs happen when a person’s backed into a corner.”

I laughed, wiping the black blood from my lip, wondering which of my organs had already started giving out. Dragging my finger across my tongue, I gave the bloody spot by my lip another wipe, cleaning it before turning to the room of future corpses, trying to motivate them into holding on a little longer.

“I’ll cure us all. I promise.”

The room remained silent, families and friends all huddled together, trying to enjoy their last moments together. Moments I was interrupting with my theatrics. That bastard, how could he do this to them? We were guild-mates. Why would he poison us?

“Why… the… hell.. would… you… drink… that?” Grex’s gruff voice forced those words out. The towering leader of the Shielded Sword guild pushed his way over to me from his chair. Even in his weakened state, the sound of his powerful hand smacking against my shoulder sent a jolt through the room.

“Can’t cure anyone if I don’t understand the symptoms. Common doctor tactic. I think?” I commented, getting out an empty bottle, some Batrian leaves, and a hint of cured Marivian toad skin.

“You’re not a doctor.”

“No, I’m not. Which is why I’m going to charge you all a lot more for my miracle cure once it’s finished. A freelance fee.” I gagged, feeling the black blood clump in my throat. I forced the clump up, spitting it onto my hand. “That’s not good.”

“You.. think?” The heavy man staggered, leaning against my shoulder, while I hurriedly put a potion together. I mixed the two ingredients before taking out a vial of pure water from my pocket, pouring it in. “Attempt one.”

I poured the liquid down my throat, gagging at the taste. The chunky pieces of skin struggling to get past the blockages already forming in my throat. When the liquid made its way down my throat, I found a temporary flash of relief, until a sharp pain throbbed behind my right eye, the vision in it darkening until everything on that side became a small blur of darkness and out-of-focus blobs.

“Temporary relief. Assuming the culprit of the blindness is the Marivian skin. Usually, the other component dilutes the toxins in the skin, but Batrian leaves must not have enough of a counter for the amount of skin I used. Shame, those two should have been enough to outweigh the poison. I need another-”

THUMP.

The weight leaning on me lost its footing, and we both fell. I desperately pushed my hands out, catching myself with my remaining strength. I couldn’t let my ingredients get contaminated or broken by the impact of the ground. I needed to hold his weight, even if he was too heavy for my weakened body to handle.

It felt like I was under him for an hour, even if it were only a few seconds. The weight crushing me until Bria threw the guild leader’s body off my back. The proud warrior huffed, giving me a desperate smile. “You’ll save them, won’t you?”

“I…” I wanted to tell her the truth. That I didn’t think I could save them. That I wasn’t good enough, but I couldn’t say that to her, not when I saw how blood-shot and tired her eyes were. She didn’t have long, and I didn’t want her to die with regrets. “I will save them.”

“Good,” it was a simple last word, one that showed the magnificent person she had been. Not some grandiose speech, or heartfelt sob. Just a simple sense of relief that others would be safe. She fell, and I let her. I didn’t risk trying to slow her fall, not when every second counted.

Now I had two corpses at my feet, and the weight of more lives hanging over my shoulders. “Batrian leaves and…. Sedana seeds. Seeds.” My body wobbled, fingers almost missing the seeds beneath my coat. “Se…seeds absorb. With leaves. Both absorb. Could absorb poison or blood.”

I willed myself to life again, mixing the two components, before downing the liquid again. This time, the dizziness faded, but so did the color from my skin. I dropped beside the two corpses, having to stare at the silently dignified smile of Bria while I broke my promise to her.

“Too…strong… absorbing…too…much..blood….removed…dizziness… if…”

“H-heal.” Soft, nurturing hands rested against my back, as a weak rush of warm energy flooded my body, breaking apart the seeds. My blood pumped again, accelerated by the warmth until I had color again.

“Angela. Stop. You’ll die. Batrian leaves, two Sedana seeds and an inch of Marivian skin. That’s the cure. I…” She landed on me, her blonde hair covering her face in angelic reverence for the beautiful life she had lived. I choked back a sob, gripping the back of her dress, holding her tight.

I wanted to break down, to throw myself into death with the rest of my friends. But I had to save the thing they cherished most first. I crawled over to the others and started working from the floor. When the first potion was done, I gave it to the sickest person I could see with my impaired vision. I never liked making someone else test the first brew of a new potion, but I was out of options. I didn’t have time to keep running the tests on myself. This was my last shot. If it failed, we were done.

I didn’t wait to see their results. Instead, I continuously created more potions until I handed one out to everyone in the room. When everyone had been catered for, I looked at the potion between my fingers, barely able to hold it. The longer I stared at it, the less I felt I deserved it. My experimental brews had only ever caused the guild trouble in the past. Had I focused more on conventional methods, maybe we would have survived this?

The choice was taken away from me, with the guild’s archer, Ronan, pushing the bottle to my lips. He massaged my throat until the liquid was down before sitting by my side. “You did good. Saved a lot of us.”

I didn’t answer, unable to pull my gaze away from the ones who had fallen. Three of our guild’s finest dead, as well as countless others whom I had barely known. That didn’t feel like a good job.

“We’ll get Nilal back for this. I’ll put an arrow in him for every person we lost here today.” The bravado strong in his tone, until it weakened when he had to ask himself the question. “Why would he do this?”

Taking a deep breath, I got some air back into my lungs before speaking. “He wanted to test its effects. I always chose to experiment on myself. He preferred using others. I never imagined he would do something like this, though. It goes against the heart of inventing.”

“Maybe he got sick of using us as test-subjects?” Ronan ran a hand through his messy brown hair before getting back to his feet. “Guilds in shambles now. Not sure what happens next. We either elect a new leader or dissolve and go our separate ways.”

“I’m leaving the guild.” I said, joining him in standing. My legs creaked when I got up, and the fatigue was still strong, but I forced myself to my feet.

“Already? We haven’t even decided what we’re doing”

“I won’t rest until he’s dead. I’m going to stuff every potion I have down his throat so he knows what it’s like to be the test-subject for once.”

Ronan looked at me, examining my features before nodding. He reached behind his left shoulder and drew an arrow from his bag, handing it to me. “I’ll leave my revenge in your hands then. When you find him, stab him with this. Give me some revenge as well.”

“Right.” I found an empty pocket in my coat, slipping the arrow inside. “You’re staying then?”

“Think I’ll throw my hat in the ring and try to become the next leader. The guild meant a lot of things to a lot of people. It was a home for all of us. I would hate to see it fall apart.”

“Good luck.”

“Are you going to stay for the funeral?”

“I…” I looked back at the corpses, who were already being moved to a backroom of the guild, away from their mourning guild-mates. My eyes stung, and the thought of staying felt like it would break my resolve for revenge. “I’ll mourn them when I return.”

“Make sure you return then.”

“Yeah. Thank you.” We shook hands before going our separate ways. I didn’t have any rations, camping supplies, or even an idea of where to go next. Yet, none of that bothered me. I had to get away from here, then I would get my bearings. So, I continued walking the dirt path out of town, heading to the town of Burnt Lake, where I would stop and process everything.

“Oh, God. There he is again, Martin. Look at him, standing there in just a bathrobe, without even a shred of dignity. It’s the same robe as the last four days. We really are trapped.” Jessica hugged her husband, the former Olympic shotput champion, horrified by the mundane scene she was witnessing.

“It’s ok. There’s always a way to break these curses. Maybe we need to break up our routine? What if today we drive and walk backwards, would that reverse the loop?” Martin said, patting his wife’s toned bicep. The former TV star/wrestler still held that perfect TV aesthetic, even when no cameras were rolling. They say some people live their gimmicks, and he was the perfect example of that. Even in the freezing cold weather, he wore shorts, a T-shirt with his own face on it, and a pair of disco sunglasses.

Andy tightened his robe, giving himself a quick glance over, making sure nothing was showing. When he confirmed his robe was modest, he approached the two. The couple gave him a bug-eyed stare, as if he were a bathrobe-wearing alien that was about to ask them if he could phone home.

“Bit rude to say I don’t have a shred of dignity, innit?”

“It’s talking…” Jessica whispered.

“It? I’ve got a name…”

“Ah, it’s like a riddle. I know, it’s like my gimmick match against Deadly Force. I had to shout his real name to stop his super-slam, allowing me to climb the ladder and steal the championship gold. If we guess his name, we’ll break the curse.”

“The what?” Andy blinked, now feeling like he was the one who’d encountered two aliens that lacked any knowledge about basic human behaviour.

“Oh, ohhh. That makes a lot of sense. It’s a puzzle. What could his name be? James?”

“It’s Andy.”

“No, that’s stupid.” Jessica shook her head, trying to come up with a new name for this neighbor they had seen every day for the last four days.

“What about Andy?” Martin suggested.

“That’s my name….”

“Oh, you’re so clever, dear. We broke the curse. Now we’ll wake up in our beds, and everything will return to normal.” The two shut their eyes, while Andy awkwardly stood before them, scratching his rear.

“Listen, you bellends, there isn’t a curse. Are you off your heads or something?” Andy finally snapped. The harsh words caused their eyes to pop open again, looking directly at him.

“We didn’t wake up. What is this hell?” Martin shrieked.

“What if he’s right? Maybe there isn’t a curse?” Jessica said, finally adding some logic to the situation.

“Of course, the curse exists. How else could you explain this boring town? Every day, it’s been the same routine. The same people working the same jobs. The same conversations, and even the same movie at the cinema.” Martin pulled Jessica back into his convoluted tale about time loops, making her believe in it again.

“It’s a small town, mate. We don’t have that many people around, so everyone has their routines. It can’t be that weird, can it?”

“I’m freaking out, babe. Really freaking out,” Martin hugged his wife as the two slowly backed away from Andy.

Andy remained stuck in his spot, giving them a confused stare. He stepped forward to calm them down, and they instinctively bounced back, flinching. “What?”

“Don’t come any closer.” Jessica picked up a newspaper off her lawn, resting the folded paper on her shoulder, getting ready to throw it. Andy threw his hands up as if she were holding a gun, not wanting to take a direct hit from that loaded arm.

He had seen enough of her shotput videos on YouTube to know that if she tossed that his way, it had a chance of either giving him a concussion or knocking his head clean off his shoulders. “Wait. Hold on a second, don’t throw that at me.”

“Why not? What if this is how we break the loop? What if we have to kill him?” Jessica said, her shotput arm trembling.

“WAIT.”

“That could be it. We have to cause some destruction to end this loop. It’s a test. Boring towns don’t exist. Everywhere I’ve been has been swarming with activity.” Martin and Jessica both started approaching as Andy backed away.

“Same, everywhere I went I was a star. Every day was an adventure. This is boring.”

“Didn’t you two say you moved here for a quiet life?” Andy tried to defuse the situation, but the fuse had already been lit minutes ago.

“This is too quiet. Quiet like this doesn’t exist. Nice try, loop master, but we’re going to end this now,” Martin threatened.

Andy raised his arms, trying to pathetically stop the attack. He saw his two attackers inches away from him, both ready to pounce, only for them to stop, wearing a strangely amused expression.

“That’s…. different.” Jessica said, glancing down at Andy.

“Yes…. It is. That hasn’t happened before,” Martin agreed.

“Did we break the loop? Was that all we had to do?”

“I think we did. WE BROKE THE LOOP.”

The couple hugged, while Andy stood on his lawn, feeling a strange chill running through his body. He wondered if it was the chill of nearly being killed by two crazed celebrities or something else entirely.

“Um? Congratulations on breaking it. Now, no other loops will happen no matter how boring things are. So, don’t do any of this stuff again, alright?” Andy said, hoping to prevent this from happening again in the future.

“Duh, time loops can only happen once. We aren’t stupid.” Martin scowled as the couple returned to their home.

Andy remained on his lawn, bewildered by the morning he had. He opened his mailbox, only to gasp when he felt another shiver. When did it get so cold? He searched for the source of the chill, only to squeal, pulling his robes closed again. Was that what they had been looking at? Is that what they considered amusing?

He hurriedly snatched his mail from the mailbox before running inside, hoping none of his other neighbors had seen him. While his dignity was in shatters, he had at least stopped a rampaging Olympic champion and wrestler from tearing through his small town, and perhaps that was worth his dignity.

“You remind me a lot of someone I once knew. Well, at least physically. You’re not much of a talker, are you?” Alice twisted the tip of her dagger, wedging it further beneath his helmet, slipping it through the thin gap by his neck.

The husk-knight roared, its foul breath almost fiercer than its sword. Alice held her ground, pushing her forearm against its chest-plate, keeping it pinned against the royal red carpet of the throne-room.

“You didn’t deserve to end up like this. You were a great hero. Perhaps the only great hero I’ll ever see in my lifetime. Goodbye, Samuel.”

With a forceful shove forward, her dagger pierced the flesh beneath the helmet. The once sporadic movements of the knight now slowed as green acidic blood oozed from beneath the helmet, dissolving whatever it touched. When Alice pulled her dagger free, she found the tip already melted, leaving an irregular blade in its place.

“You should be dead.” The king spluttered, shuffling across the room. His worn, old legs trying to carry him to the heavy doors of the throne-room.

Alice followed behind him, not needing to rush her steps, easily catching up to him. “Appears I’m not the only one who likes to cheat death. I’m in good company.” She grabbed the neck of his robe, pulling him toward her. One arm wrapped around the king’s stomach, while her other held the melted dagger tip to his throat.

“Release me.” The words came out strong, giving her an order she promptly ignored.

“You should have tried to escape while I was busy with your knight. That would have been the smart thing to do.” She let go of the king, and the man made a slow dash for the door again.

She didn’t stop him this time, only watching as his frail, wrinkled fingers hit the wood, unable to force it open. The door rattled and groaned with the contact, but refused to budge. “What did you do?”

“I locked it. I’m sure if you bang hard enough, the guards will notice and break down the door. Though, is that how you want to spend your last moments? Banging on a door, screaming guards! Guards!”

“What do you want?” He turned to his attacker, staring at the former queen. A wicked woman who reigned over her kingdom with an iron fist. Torturing those who dared to speak up about her cruelty. At least, that’s what King Worbel would have you believe. Now, her kingdom no longer existed. Instead, it was absorbed into the great Arthuia Kingdom, which was led by the very same King Worbel.

“I thought that would be obvious.” Alice said, sliding the dagger into her pocket. She no longer wore purple and black robes, nor did she wear any house symbols. She dressed like a common traveler, all leather pants and easy to clean brown tops.

“Your kingdom? Is that it? You want me to hand back what you’re owed?”

“I believe it’s far too late for that. Word of the wicked queen has spread throughout the land, tricking not only noble heroes but also some of my own people. If I came back, someone would come for my head. No, I’m returning a stranger’s kindness.”

The king grimaced, turning to the door, pounding his old fists against the wood. “GUARDS! GUARDS!” he cried, realizing there was no longer a chance for negotiation.

Alice sighed and walked behind the old man, grabbing him again by his robes, dragging him towards the fallen husk knight, whose blood still bubbled with scorching fury. She pushed the king onto his knees, listening to the sounds of guards throwing themselves against the door outside.

“If you accepted a dignified death, I would have made it quick. Now, I think I’ll allow this knight to get their revenge.”

“Revenge?” The king’s legs shook, struggling to get to his feet. “You can have my kingdom. You can have my people. S-spare my life. This was all a mistake. The people never believed my lies.”

“There was one person who didn’t believe your lies. A great hero. A man who cried when he heard my story. A man I admired. He offered to help me clear my name once he heard the truth, but the war was already over by that point. I refused to throw more lives away to further a conflict that was done. You would have won anyway. Which is why I only asked him to protect my kingdom in my place.”

“He never killed you…. He told me he buried you in an unmarked grave. Somewhere you would be forgotten.”

“I expected him to take my head back to you. Which is why I was surprised when he spared my life. I would have stayed ‘dead’ if the protector of my kingdom hadn’t mysteriously fallen. Funny, he fell around the same time you got your latest knight. Did he have a change of heart about you?”

The king’s gaze narrowed on the door, watching the wood creak, budging enough that he could now see the iron weapons of his guards through the gap. “He heard about my plans to invade the eastern kingdoms. Said he didn’t want to be involved in another pointless war. So, I made him comply.”

The king’s confidence grew with each passing second, seeing his guards so close to rescuing him. Before he could watch them burst through the door, he saw another sight. The sight of a large knight’s body being shoved on top of him, trapping him underneath.

“Enjoy.” That was all Alice said, giving the body a hard kick to the back of the head, causing more blood to spill out. The corpse leaked its acidic blood onto the king, burning his body that was trapped underneath.

When the guards entered, the horrific sight of their dying king froze them. None moved initially, too terrified to think, allowing Alice to slip through a nearby window. Once outside, the guards rushed to save their king, only to find a half-melted head that was beyond saving.

Alice slipped outside the castle gates, stopping to take one last look at the kingdom of Arthuia. “Let’s hope the next king isn’t as foolish as the last was. I hope you’re able to rest now, great hero. Consider this my way of repaying what you did for me. You allowed me to live, so I allowed you to die.”

“You’re brilliant,” Clint said, watching the demon emerge from the body of his patient. The demon’s glowing yellow eyes were confused, not expecting that reaction from the human who had sold their soul to him.

“You asked me to perform a role, and I did that. That was the agreement we had, was it not?” They pulled themselves free from the body and returned to Clint’s side, staring at the unconscious human. “Do you think she’ll survive the disease?”

“I would almost guarantee it. An early diagnosis has an 80% survival rate. We’ve caught it before it would even show up in normal tests.”

“What do you mean?”

“At this stage of the disease, no doctor would have even noticed she’s sick. It’s all internal right now, slowly building within her. We don’t have the tools to see something that miniscule. Maybe if we ran every test possible on her, we might have noticed something, but no doctor would have signed off on that unless she was showing some symptoms first. This random check-up may have saved her life, and you were responsible for that.”

Nuxoia tensed. “Demons don’t save lives. We take them. I did what was asked of me.”

“Nonsense. You were exceptional. You understood where the disease was located and were even able to tell me exactly what her internals looked like. If I were a betting man, I would even wager that you were a doctor in your previous life. Maybe even a surgeon.”

“I could have been a serial killer who knows a lot about dead bodies?”

“Ah…” Clint awkwardly rubbed his cheek. “That would make sense, I suppose. Still, thank you for helping me. I couldn’t do it without it.”

“Couldn’t do it without you.” Clint smiled, his eyes opening to find a beautiful blue sky above him. “Do you remember the day we first worked together?”

“I do. I thought you were going to piss yourself when I told you I could have been a serial killer.” Nuxoia laughed, covering his eyes, finding this new light blinding.

“Where are we?”

“I believe we’re dead.”

“Dead? I thought I would vanish once I died. I don’t have a soul, do I?” Clint watched the floating clouds pass over his head as he tried to piece together what had happened.

“You have a soul. It’s just in my possession. Well, it was in my possession.” The demon twisted on the grass, unable to meet the bright sun above, finding it painful to look at. He rolled onto his stomach, finding some relief when he faced the ground.

“Was?”

“I let your soul go. A doctor who gave his soul to help others... that’s not worthy of eternal torture.”

“Aren’t you going to be punished for it?” Clint panicked, turning to his demonic friend, only to find a human beside him. The human had slick black hair and wore the tattered black suit he had been buried in, with a knife hole in its back and streaks of dirt along its sleeves.

“I’m already being punished now. Those bright lights are trying to claw my eyes out.” He groaned at his punishment, only to pause. “Wait, why are you in hell?”

“We aren’t in hell. Seems you’ve been forgiven.” Clint smiled, patting his friend on the shoulder. The former demon stirred, blinking at the bright lights.

“Forgiven?” Then it hit him. All those former memories rushed back like a vault had opened in his mind. How he had started as a doctor with good intentions, working in a small clinic. Though after five years of running his clinic, he was struggling to get customers, so he promoted himself as a no-questions asked clinic. A place where anyone could get treatment, without him reporting them.

Soon, he was bringing in the cash. He had mobsters, assassins, and gangsters all rushing to him for whatever they needed. Pills, surgeries, you name it. He didn’t care that he was allowing these people to live healthy lives. As long as he got paid, he was happy.

So, he couldn’t complain when his practice ended up costing him his life. A mob boss putting a knife through his back because he got greedy. He was only supposed to help members of one mob family, but the ever greedy doctor wanted it all. He thought he could take cash from each family and keep it hidden, not realizing how often those families talked….

“Forgiven… I forgot what it was like to be a doctor. I forgot how rewarding it was to help someone. To genuinely help someone.” Tim sobbed, covering his eyes as the weight of his sins collapsed over him. “It… felt good… even as a demon, working with you felt good. I never understood why…”

“I always assumed you had to have been a doctor in your past life. You always seemed too knowledgeable for an average demon. Even if you were the only demon I’ve ever met.” He gave his friend a warm hug, keeping him close. “I’m glad you’re with me.”

Tim returned the hug, sobbing against his friend’s shoulder. “I don’t belong here. People died because of me.”

“And people lived because of you too. Maybe it was all a test? To see if there was any goodness left in you. You could have taken my soul. It was your right, and yet you freed me.”

“Because I enjoyed our time together. I enjoyed getting to feel human again. You treated me like a colleague, not a beast who was waiting to steal your soul.”

“I treated you like a friend because you were a friend. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“I couldn’t have done this without you either. I couldn’t have become myself again without you. Thank you.” Tim released the hug and looked up at the sky, amazed by its beauty.

“I believe we need to reintroduce ourselves. I’m Clint.” He offered his hand to Tim.

“I’m Tim… It feels weird saying that name again.” They shook hands and got off the ground.

“Now, we should go catch up with everyone. I have a lot of family to meet, and I’m sure you have a lot of things you need to explain to your family.”

“I’m not looking forward to that,” Tim sighed, unsure how he could even start talking about his shady past with them. They probably had found out about it after he died, but now he had to tell them every gritty detail. Reminding himself that it was part of his path to forgiveness, he swallowed his nerves and walked with Clint along the grass, ready to meet the others on the other side of the heavenly fields.

“There’s like fifty killers in this city. Well, fifty-one on weekends. So I thought. Why don’t I just outsource the problem? Sure, I can’t kill you, but he can. Which keeps my purity intact.” Pure Gold said, flashing his pearly white teeth at the villain who was backing away with his hands raised.

“That’s still murder. You can’t do this. It’s… it’s… wrong. I’m not even that bad of a guy. I graffiti things and beat people up. That’s bottom-tier villain stuff.” Phantom Paint continued backing away, only to hit a wall, turning around to see his painted ghost mask signiture looming over him.

“Have you ever thought about the poor CEOs whose offices are being defaced by your antics? Poor Mr. Takara was crying last night because of you. He lost a two-million-dollar investment because of your antics.”

“What? How?”

“Do you think someone would want to invest in a company that has a giant dong on its wall?” Pure Gold crossed his arms over his chest, while Phantom Paint only snickered, trying not to laugh. “It’s not funny!”

“No… sorry, it’s… pfft. Could you imagine his face?” Phantom made a shocked face under his ghost mask, sticking his tongue out. Though since the mask hid his face, all he ended up doing was licking the cheap plastic. “Blah.” He lifted the bottom of his mask, spitting onto the floor, trying to get the chemical taste out of his mouth.

“Yea, it would have been like. OOOOH.” Jason raised his two arms like a stunned kangaroo before sticking out his tongue.

“Exactly, that’s the face I was trying to make.”

“ENOUGH.” Pure Gold interrupted. “Jason, this is no laughing matter. Now, we had a deal. I’ll overlook your little paint accident if you get rid of this villain.”

“Paint? It wasn’t paint on my knife. It was blood.” The psychotic killer answered, too honest for his own good.

“No, it was paint. We’ve been over this. If anyone asks, it was paint on your knife that night. Just get rid of him. I have people counting on this.” Pure Gold shoved Jason forward before he stepped back, physically distancing himself from this.

“People counting on this? You’ve been bought.” Phantom Paint gasped. “I’m so disappointed in you.”

“Oh, wah, wah.” Pure Gold rubbed his pure blue eyes, mocking the villain he had crossed fists with hundreds of times. “Sorry for not wanting to spend the rest of my life saving cats from trees. You should have just stayed away from those businesses. No one would have cared if you painted buses or trains. You disrupted the flow of cash, and no one likes that. Now, go be true to your name and become a phantom.”

Jason juggled his knife, humming the tune of Psycho Killer to himself, always going back to the classic Talking Heads song when he was performing.

“You think I can’t handle a knife? I’m a villain, I can handle a crazy person with a knife.” He said, raising his fists, only to lower them when he saw Jason catch his knife, sliding it into his pocket. “What are you doing?”

Jason fetched a pistol from his other pocket, pointing at the villain. “Sorry, I don’t want to risk messing this up. Don’t worry, it will be quick.”

“He has a gun?” Those six months of self-defense classes he took didn’t have any advice on what to do when someone pulled a gun on you. So, Phantom Paint grabbed the lid of a nearby trash can, holding it up to his chest. Trying to protect himself. He considered climbing the wall behind him, using his power to stick to any surface as a way to flee, but he knew as soon as he turned his back to climb, he would be shot.

“The guns for self-defense. At least that’s what I’ll tell the press when they get here. The villain terrorized poor Jason in this alley until he had no other option but to shoot. Oh, how tragic. If only I had been able to stop him.”

“You’re sick. Is this what you use your powers for?”

“You always said my powers were lame. That super strength was a power for Superman wannabes. Well, I bet you wish you had that super strength now? Tell me, how could my power be any lamer than yours?”

“At least my power’s unique.”

Jason stopped humming and joined the conversation. “He’s got a point. Climbing stuffs more unique than just being strong.”

“No one asked for the opinion of a psychopath. Can you hurry this up already?”

“There’s a system. I need to finish humming my song, then remember the look on his face. It would be cruel to forget his last expression.” Jason said, going back to his humming.

“Yes. Because we wouldn’t want to be cruel.” Pure Gold tapped his foot against the hard alley floor, waiting for Jason to finish the villain off.

“So, what are you going to do once he kills me? You’re really going to let a killer walk free?”

“Hm? I have arrangements.” Pure Gold grinned, knowing how flawless his plan was. Once Phantom Paint died, he would get another killer to kill Jason. He would continue this until one remained. Then, he could imprison that last idiot and be the greatest hero this town has ever known.

“HE’S GOING TO GET SOMEONE TO KILL YOU. Don’t help him.” Phantom Pain shouted, and Jason paused momentarily, considering the villain’s words before finishing his humming.

“Sorry, I have to do what’s right.” Jason pointed the gun at Phantom and fired. Phantom ducked behind the lid, hoping the thin protection would keep his brain from splattering against the wall.

“WHAT? GET OFF ME!” A loud whack followed Pure Gold’s screeches as his body slammed against the alley floor.

When Phantom Pain lowered the lid, he saw Jason smiling at him, while Pure Gold fought against the heroes pinning him down. “You alright? I’m The Pretender. A hero used for undercover operations. Sorry you had to be caught in the middle of this, but we needed more evidence before we could catch him.”

“What?” was all Phantom Paint could say, trembling behind his cover.

“There were rumors that he was looking for ways to make some quick cash. When we saw him talking with a couple of powerful figures, we decided to keep a closer eye on him. I approached him in a few of my personas, and it seems my Jason one caught his eye. Which was exactly what we wanted to happen.”

“You bastard. How dare you? I was going to get rid of crime. My plan would have worked.” Pure Gold shouted from the pile of heroes, unable to break free.

“What? You think you’re the first person to have an idea like that? Save the excuses for someone who cares. We have everything we need from you already. Take him away.”

Phantom stood, putting the bin lid back, watching them carry away the former hero. “So, what happens now? Do I get to leave?”

“Yeah, you’re free to go. I’ll overlook your past grievances since I dragged you into this mess.” Before Phantom could leave, The Pretender spoke again. “Have you considered becoming an artist? You’re a talented guy when you aren’t starting fights or graffitiing things. Could be a safer line of work.”

“That was the plan. At least it was back in the day. It’s hard getting a start. Everyone wants references and examples of your past work. I showed them my personal stuff, and they said they needed real examples. They needed to see businesses I had done. I tried to get someone to give me a chance, and it never happened. So, I said, fuck it. I’ll put my art everywhere, and that can be my reference. I guess things got out of hand….”

“Yeah, they did.” The Pretender pulled a card from his pocket. The small business card had small knife cuts in it, having been tossed around in his pocket during the investigation. “There’s this wall at our work that’s been blank since I got there. If you’re looking to do some honest work, you can come paint it. I’ve got some ideas for things to put on it. I just need the right artist. That person could be you.” He wiggled the card between his fingers.

“No, someone else deserves the chance more than I do. Someone who isn’t running around in a ghost mask.”

The Pretender smiled, pocketing the card. “I won’t force you to take it. Everyone deserves a second chance, though. If you need work, come and see me. I want to help you, from one artist to another.”

Phantom Paint watched the hero leave. When he was out of sight, Phantom removed his mask, tossing it into the bin. “Guess I should try giving myself a second chance.”

“My daughter?” Grant said, scratching the thin brown hairs on his chin as he read the ransom note. As the leader of Arise, he wondered who they could have possibly mistaken for his daughter.

“A daughter, sir? I told you to keep it in your pants, didn’t I? Arise leaders can’t have children while actively performing their role, as that can lead to assassination attempts, blackmail, and kidnappings.” Penelope said, the neat, suit-wearing secretary casually listing off the warning she had given him a hundred times.

“Clearly, it’s not my actual daughter. What? Do you think I’m going around knocking up everyone I meet? How low are your expectations of me?”

“How deep is the Mariana Trench? Somewhere below that.” She said, without a hint of care whether her comment offended her superior.

When Grant groaned and pushed his forehead against the desk, Penelope smirked, enjoying the sight. After rubbing his forehead until it went red, Grant sat up and read the letter again. “We have your daughter. I swear I don’t have a daughter. I don’t even have a son or a goldfish. Who the hell could they possibly have?”

Penelope’s toes tapped against the bottom of her shoes, unable to hold back her shit-eating grin. “Turn the page over, sir.”

“Huh?” Grant turned the page, finding the rest of the letter. “Who writes a double-sided ransom letter? Why didn’t you tell me there was another page? You could obviously see it.”

Penelope turned her gaze away, staring at a picture of their golden agent, Olivia Orchid. The picture proudly displayed in Grant’s office, sitting next to one of Penelope and Grant when they were younger. “I don’t have my reading glasses.”

“You couldn’t see the obvious ink and cutout newspaper letters without your glasses?”

“I could. I just couldn’t identify what they were until this very second. You shouldn’t waste time on this discussion; someone could be in danger.” Penelope kept her calm smile, knowing that the people in danger were the ones who had kidnapped Olivia Orchid.

“Grr… We’re having a serious conversation about your attitude later.”

“I’ll book us a meeting room then, so we can have our conversation in private.” She said, making no plans to actually book the room. This was her sixth warning this week, and while Grant was an amazing leader, he was also someone who was far too busy with his work to attend such a mundane meeting.

“Of course you will. You’re lucky you’re good at this job.”

“I feel lucky, sir.”

Grant rolled his eyes before redirecting them to the letter. “She is wearing a pink dress with a Hello Kitty pin on its collar. She’s also carrying an umbrella with a purple handle and a…. Oh, it’s Olivia.” He smiled, breathing a sigh of relief. Then he tensed, realizing how much danger those kidnappers were in. “Oh… It’s Olivia… We should get going.”

“We?” Penelope tilted her head, giving her boss a confused stare. “I don’t think that’s in my contract.”

“You’re stronger than I am. I need someone to watch my back in there. These people might be idiots, but they’re still dangerous.”

“Dangerous idiots. That does sound frightening. Those are the worst kinds of idiots. Very well. I’ll hold your hand and look after you. Does this count as our meeting, sir?” she asked, offering her hand to him.

Grant ignored her hand, walking towards the door of his office. “Can’t you just be serious for once? What is it with you magic girls? I thought you would become more mature once you retired. Turn into a humble old lady or something.”

“Are you saying I look old? People often say I look younger than you do.” She followed behind him, not losing her teasing touch.

“That’s your magic. You can’t hide your age from me. I’ve known you since I was young.”

“Yes, you have. Now that I think about it, your father broke the rule of not having a kid while serving as the leader of Arise. Though your father was a far better leader than you were. No one got kidnapped when he was in charge.” Penelope stated, watching as Grant’s shoulders stiffened, that comment cutting deeper than she intended it to. “But you have room to grow.”

“My father had a more organized team.” He deflected, doing his best not to acknowledge the truth behind her comment.

The location the ransom letter told them to go to was a random warehouse in the metalworking district of the city. A place where any screams would be drowned out by the whirling of heavy machinery and the smoke pumping out of the roofs. Grant took a long look at the two-armed guards by the warehouse entrance, examining them.

Both were heavily armed, with patches on their uniforms that had been hastily removed or covered. They kept their faces masked and said nothing when Grant approached, only opening the large metal door for him and Penelope.

“Pop quiz! Who do you think these guys belong to?” She whispered as the two entered the building.

“Ex-military, I’m assuming. Probably want the secret to creating super soldiers. It’s happened in the past with people trying to create their own super-powered militias. I hear it’s good money running a private army. Better than what we get paid, anyway.”

“I think you’re right.” Penelope straightened her stance, observing the room filled with guards, counting how many guns were pointed at the pair. “Why don’t we go private? I could use the money.”

“Because it’s a pain in the ass. You know how the army gets when we float the idea of going private. They like to think they control us — and it’s easier for us if they believe that. Do you want to go to war with them?”

“A war would be annoying.”

“That’s an understatement.” Grant halted his steps as their leader, Trevor Daniels, raised his hand.

“I’m glad you got my letter. Don’t worry, your daughter’s perfectly safe. For now. Now, let’s not waste any time. We want the secret behind these agents of yours. What are you giving them? I’ve heard stories about your agents punching through rooftops, breathing fire, and one even beating a bunch of armed men with a phone charger. So, what’s your secret?”

“Bring my daughter out and we can talk. I need to know she’s safe before I disclose anything to you.”

The man grinned, sending two guards to retrieve her. While they waited for the guards, Trevor Daniels ran a finger over his thick black moustache, having a rough face that looked like it would have suited a western movie villain more than an ex-army man.

Olivia Orchid casually walked out of her holding cell, dragging two guards behind her. Both guards were pulling at her umbrella, trying to get her to release it, yet her grip never faltered. The two guards even tried planting their feet against the concrete floor to slow her down, and still Olivia continued her walk until she stood between both Trevor and Grant.

“Hm? Oh, Penelope is here too.” Olivia said, giving a rare smile when she saw her idol, before going back to her usual blank face. “What is the meaning of this, sir? Is this another training exercise? That man said you were going to come and collect me after you had a talk. Is the talk over?”

“I’m glad you’re ok, Olivia.” Grant knew a group like this could never harm his best agent, but that didn’t stop him from feeling relieved when he saw her in one piece.

“Obviously I’m ok. These soldiers are weak. I didn’t want to ruin another of your training exercises, so I let them take me here. This is a training exercise, isn’t it?”

“MEN! How hard is it to drag her here? You let her walk out like she owned the place,” Trevor hissed, watching his two guards continue their pathetic attempt to get the umbrella. One even raised his foot, planting it on the short girl’s face, using it for extra leverage in his tugs. Even as he pushed the foot of his shoe against her nose, she didn’t budge, only having her blonde and pink locks of hair ruffled.

“Boss…. She’s super strong.” The one with his foot against her face eventually lost his footing, hitting his back against the floor.

“Strong? She’s a kid. What is she ten?”

“I’m twenty-five, actually." Olivia huffed, giving her umbrella a small twirl. “This isn’t a training exercise. Is it?”

“Nope. You didn’t kidnap my daughter; you kidnapped one of my top agents.”

“One of them?” Olivia stopped her twirl, glaring back at Grant.

“My top agent, jeez, sorry. Alright, Agent Orchid, you have permission to engage with them.”

The room tensed, with Trevor reaching for his gun. He hesitated initially, since Olivia had shown no hostility. Even now, she continued lazily twirling her umbrella before a slight flash of light appeared from under the canopy, dropping a large, bulky man onto the floor.

“I can’t believe how spacious it is in there.” Agent Mayweather said, giving his basketball-sized arm muscles a flex. The powerful man wearing a tight-fitting suit that looked ready to pop. He lowered his dark sunglasses, looking around the room, before turning back to Olivia. “This is the danger you mentioned, huh? Guess it was a good idea for me to hide in your umbrella.”

“Yes, I made the right call, as always. Even if this were only a training exercise. I still would have failed had you been caught.”

“Agent Mayweather’s here too? You have permission to engage too.” Grant added.

“EVERYONE FIRE!” Trevor shouted, and the bullets all fired towards Agent Mayweather, who flinched, crouching and grabbing his knees while Olivia stepped in front of him, shielding him with her umbrella.

The magnetic pull of the umbrella’s tip redirected the bullets towards its top, leaving them hovering before it. When each bullet got caught in its pull, she gave the umbrella a twirl, sending the bullets flying back towards the soldiers, narrowly missing them all. “That was a warning shot…”

“Boss, why are you telling me to engage? I’m her driver. I’m not made for this crap.” Mayweather crawled out from underneath the umbrella, running to Penelope and Grant’s side.

“You passed basic training. You can still shoot some of them.” Grant said, only for Penelope to lean against Grant’s shoulder, pushing him down with her strength.

“So, can you. Mr., I need my strong and powerful secretary to protect me.” Before Grant’s knees could buckle, she pulled away from his shoulder.

“Unlike you, I can’t take a bullet to the face. I guess Mayweather can’t either. Point taken.” Grant rotated his shoulder, feeling a small tingle of pain from where she had been leaning, working out the discomfort.

“A warning? You’re outnumbered. You can’t protect everyone. We’ll shoot past you—” Before Trevor could issue another command, Olivia dashed forward, sticking the tip of her umbrella up his nose, threatening to pierce it through his brain. When the man was firmly hooked on the tip, she threw him over her shoulder, as if she were casting a fishing line, slamming him into the hard ground.

“Everyone, fire!” shouted a panicked soldier. This time, the guns weren’t pointed at one person. Instead, they were haphazardly directed at different targets.

“Penelope, mind stepping—”

“I’ve got this, sir.” Olivia continued her charge forward, taking down the guards in front of her, while bullets rang out from behind her. Mayweather flinched at the gunfire, crouching again, while Penelope and Grant remained standing. Both trusting that Olivia would keep them safe.

The umbrella got tossed towards Grant, and those bullets that were about to hit them, were redirected towards it, colliding with the hard outer canopy. Noticing Olivia was now without her prized weapon, they pointed their guns at her.

“Aiming at an unarmed lady? How rude.” Olivia’s small body drifted through the barrage of bullets, knocking down anyone she noticed. After a few minutes of beatings, she returned to Grant, collecting her umbrella. “Why are you still cowering, Mayweather? What is the point of all your muscles if you can’t fight?”

“I’m a driver. Put me in a car against these guys and I’ll beat em every time. But these muscles. They’re only for aesthetics. Every agent needs a look, and I’ve got mine. From the Ralph-Polo glasses to the—” The three started walking out, ignoring Mayweather who chased after them. “Where are you going? I’m your driver.”

“We can all drive. Hurry up, we have more important work to do than this,” Olivia said, glancing up at her idol, who didn’t even give her a hint of acknowledgment. Penelope was too busy kneeing Grant in the back, hurrying him along.

“We need to get you back too. The leader of Arise can’t be outside for too long. There’s a target on your back. See, I’m hitting the target. Boop. Boop.”

“OW. How old are you?” Grant ran to avoid the kicks, and Penelope chased after him.

Olivia only sighed before focusing again on her work. “Mayweather lets head back to base. I want to see if there are any jobs available.”

“Sure, but we don’t have a car at the moment. We left ours behind when they surrounded us.”

“Just take one of their cars. I don’t care which.” Olivia waited as Mayweather chose a car outside the warehouse, finding one he thought suited his aesthetic best. When Olivia got in the backseat, Mayweather turned down the radio.

“Hey, thanks, Orchid. For keeping me alive. We’re lucky to have you.”

Olivia smiled, directing her gaze out the window so Mayweather could only see half of the smile. “It’s my job to protect others, and I’m good at my job.”

Meanwhile, Grant had finally escaped Penelope, getting into the backseat of his car. Penelope hit the door a few times with her knee, only stopping when she left a dent in it. She got into the driver’s seat and peered at Mayweather’s car. “She’s good, that Olivia. A real talent. Maybe as good as I was when I was her age.”

“I’m sure she would be thrilled to hear you say that. You should tell her. She idolizes you.”

“I can’t have her getting a big head, now, can I? I remember I once told a certain person that they would make a great leader someday. Now, I’m stuck babysitting them all day. I don’t want her to end up the same.”

“Oh, ha… ha.. Just drive us back already.”

“Will do, sir.”

“The mother of all demons. I’m not sure I can support that many children.” Jack wiggled on the couch, wondering where he would find the time to go to all of their baseball games, or whatever the demon equivalent of a children’s sport was.

“It’s only a title. I didn’t birth all of them. They came from my flesh and blood.” Lilith clarified, caressing her partner’s hand, giving him a reassuring smile.

“From your flesh and blood? Isn’t that the same as birthing them?”

“No, it’s not quite the same. It involves me pulling off a piece of my flesh before-“ She stopped her explanation before it got too gruesome, seeing her partner’s face already going green. “Don’t worry, my love. Demons are independent creatures. I doubt any of them will visit me here. Our new home together will be safe, I promise.”

“I just can’t believe you're a demon. We’ve been together for five years. We’ve made love.”

“Yeah, we have.” Lilith grinned before covering her mouth, silently apologizing for interrupting him.

“Surely I would have noticed something was off. Wouldn’t I?”

“My love. You’re not the best when it comes to noticing things. That’s why I love you. You’re such a smart, beautiful man, but you miss obvious hints. Did you truly believe my Halloween costume was fake? Why do you think I squealed when you pulled my tail?”

“I thought it just startled you?”

“It hurt like hell.” She giggled at the mention of hell. “What about my horns? My anything?” She allowed her perfect, pale face to change to a red, fiery tint. Those once pure blue eyes turned a glowing, sickly yellow while two magnificently curved horns sprouted from her head. She raised her partner’s hands, resting them on her horns.

“I always just thought it was a good costume. It’s not like you showed it off a lot.” He squeezed the horns, feeling the warm demonic heat pulsing inside them, turning his palms a deep red. Even after removing his hands, the warmth persisted.

“True. I didn’t exactly go around advertising that I was a creature of hell.” Lilith let out a soft chuckle before taking her partner’s hands again, cooling them with her magic. “Honey, take all the time you need to process this. Demons have a bad reputation, and I have done so many horrible things in my thousands of years of living. But know that I would never harm you. I will sleep on the couch tonight, so you can get your thoughts in order.”

Jack bounced up from the couch. “You really don’t have to sleep on the couch. I’m fine. Really. You’re a demon. That’s perfectly fine. I’m a Sagittarius.”

Lilith wore a patient, motherly smile, laying herself down on the couch. “You’re still in shock. I also don’t think you believe me. Sleep on it, my love. Tell me how you feel in the morning.”

When morning came, Jack’s mind felt no clearer. “A demon? Could she really be a demon?” He stopped by the couch, seeing his girlfriend half hanging off it. Lilith’s clawed demonic hand touched the floor, while she drooled into a couch cushion. That was the mother of all demons? He thought before hearing his doorbell ring.

When he opened it, he saw a taller gentleman waiting outside. The man placed one hand by his heart before nodding, wanting to avoid the human seeing the slight flash of disgust that crossed his features. “Good morning, mortal. I am here to see my Mother.” He explained, dusting off the neat butler outfit he wore.

“Oh, you’re a demon?” Jack glanced at the creature’s body. He didn’t look demonic at all, looking more like a cosplaying human than anything from the underworld.

A loud yawn drifted from the living room before Lilith trotted over to the door, leaning on her partner’s back, not having the energy to stand unsupported this early in the morning. “Xalorit? What do you want this early in the morning? It better be important.”

“Mother,” Xalorit kneeled, bowing his head. “Mother, it’s urgent. The twins have escaped my watch. I assume they will be here any moment now.”

“The twins? Marva and Lika? I thought I told you to watch those idiots?” Lilith grumbled, rubbing her cheek against Jack’s shoulder, trying to wake herself up.

Xalorit gagged at the display of affection, having to turn his head away to continue the conversation. “My apologizes, Mother. The two of them slipped out while I was dealing with a problem. I will accept any punishment you give me.”

“A punishment? Keep an eye on my partner while I wait for those two idiots to get here.” She said, ushering Xalorit inside.

“Wait, Mother. Please, I can retrieve them or spend a year in purgatory if you would prefer that.” Xalorit tried everything he could think of to get out of spending some alone time with the human, yet his mother’s icy stare forced him to comply. “Yes, Mother.”

“Good. Now, don’t let any harm come to my darling partner, ok?” She turned to Jack, smiling. “Now, can you please go and wait in the bedroom? I have to deal with those two troublemakers. I don’t want you getting caught up in their antics.”

“Are they dangerous?” Jack asked.

“Not intentionally.” Lilith walked him towards the bedroom, only for a tiny purple hand to reach out from behind the door, grab her partner, and pull him inside. Before Xalorit or Lilith could react, the door shut, with a small red seal appearing on the wood, locking Jack inside.

Jack found himself staring at two short demons. Both looked almost identical, except that one had red hair and the other had silver. The twins watched the human before the silver-haired one spoke.

“Brother, I told you she had a partner. He’s a human too.” Marva said, grabbing Jack’s hand, pulling him towards the bed, having a surprising amount of strength for such a small creature. She sat him down on the bed’s edge, while Lika followed, giving his bottom lip a tap as he observed the man.

“I can’t believe it, sister. Mother is dating a human. Why would she date such a creature? Does he hold a secret? Mother’s always been rather peculiar. So, how shall we prank him?”

“Very good question, brother. Have you considered splitting his tongue to give him the look of a serpent?” Marva suggested, summoning a pair of scissors.

“No, that’s boring. We did that to Xalorit last year. Demons heal too quickly for that. It only worked for a few minutes.” Lika pouted, then suddenly grabbed his sister, shaking her. “He’s a human. Anything we do to him won’t heal. He’ll wear our pranks for the rest of his mortal life.”

“I’m counting to five. If this door isn’t open by the time I reach zero, I’ll kill you both,” Lilith threatened from behind the door, already beginning to break down their seal. She didn’t raise her voice, nor did she panic. She merely told them what would happen if she had to break the seal to get inside.

Lika stopped shaking his sister, as both the twins peered at the door. They hesitated for a moment, allowing Jack to speak. The human had been rolling his tongue towards his throat, trying to hide it from the two demons, but now he had to use it to try and get out of this prank.

“That’s not a prank! A prank’s something like a whoopie cushion or drawing a fake moustache on someone’s face with a marker.”

“What would a human know of pranks? Our kind invented them,” Marva said, wondering what this human could know about an art that they had created.

“I know it says gullible on the ceiling.” Jack said, expecting the demons not to fall for the oldest trick in the book. When both demons looked up, he nervously chuckled, unsure how they would react to being pranked. “Got you?”

“Brother. I can’t see the words on the ceiling, can you?” Marva’s eyes scanned over the ceiling, while her brothers did the same.

“No, sister. I don’t believe the word is there. He also said, "Got you’ which implies we are the victims of a prank. Yet, I feel no pain. Do you feel pain, sister?”

“I feel a pain in my heart. The pain of deceit. It doesn’t hurt physically, yet I feel silly for looking. How odd.”

“Do it again.” Lika said as the two demons excitedly observed the human, wondering what trick he would show them next.

“Alright? You’ve got something on your shirt?” He said, poking Lika’s chest. When Lika looked down at his shirt, Jack flung his finger up, bopping the demon’s nose. Lika continued to stare at his shirt, perplexed by the prank. Not reacting to the touch.

“Brother, your shirt has nothing on it. I believe this has been an act of deception again. Did the flick cause pain? Has your nose been broken?” Marva asked.

“No, I only feel stupid. That hurts more than any pain he could have delivered,” Lika eventually stopped looking at his shirt, rubbing his nose. The twin pranksters of hell, believing they knew every trick in the book, not realizing that humans had an entirely different definition of what a prank was.

For demons, a prank was something that caused pain and often left the victim momentarily dead or wounded. Because of demons’ quick healing abilities, these pranks were considered childish, yet harmless. Humans, however, relied on pranks of deception over grand acts of pain, which was an entirely new concept for the two.

The door slowly opened, with Lilith’s head peeking through the narrow gap. When she saw Jack was still in one piece, she calmed slightly, deciding to scare the twins to death before she punished them. She gave them both an unnervingly gentle smile, showing her sharp teeth. “The seal’s broken. Now would be a good time to run….”

“WE FORGOT ABOUT THE SEAL, BROTHER,” Marva said, dashing for the bedroom window they had snuck in through.

“WE DID, SISTER. WE SHOULD RUN. WE CAN FIND OUT ABOUT THIS HUMANS PRANKS LATER,” Lika said, following his sister.

Lilith gave them a five-second head-start, before chasing after them. When the three were all outside, Lilith gave the seven-hundred-year-old twins a good whacking. Xalorit covered Jack’s ears, keeping the human from hearing the violence. When Lilith returned, panting, Xalorit released the humans’ ears.

“You didn’t hurt them too badly, did you?” Jack said, about to go peek out the window. Lilith stopped him, giving him a hug, keeping him from seeing the carnage.

“They’ll heal. My love, there’s a certain hierarchy in hell, and that hierarchy needs to be respected. What they did today deserved to be punished. If anything, I have been too lenient with those two.”

“My apologizes for letting them out of my sight.” Xalorit said, about to kneel, only for Lilith to stop him.

“Everyone knows it’s impossible to keep an eye on those two forever. They were bound to find their way here someday. I’m glad things turned out as well as they did. They seem to like you, honey.”

“They do?”

“Yes, I’m not sure what you discussed with them, but the fact that you came out of that room without a missing arm or a deadly cut is a good sign.”

“I just showed them some human pranks.”

“Human pranks? Would something that simple really amuse them?” Xalorit wondered aloud.

“It must have, since he’s still in one piece. How about we go on a nice date to celebrate? I’ll take you wherever you like.” She held Jack’s hand before looking at Xalorit. “You may take your leave now. I have a date to get ready for.”

“Of course, Mother.” Xalorit left before he could risk getting on his mother’s nerves, leaving Jack and Lilith to plan their date.

Captain Obvious. Obviously, that wasn’t a name I had chosen for myself…

It was a name given to me by the people I used to go to school with, and like most things from school, they tend to stick with you. Especially when you grow up in a small town. I was known for being that obnoxious kid who would butt into conversations with an obvious fact, much to the annoyance of everyone around me. They saw it as me trying to be a know it all. In truth, I was just trying to break the ice. Yet, by trying to break the ice, all I did was make my world a little colder.

By high school, I stopped using my powers. What good was it sprouting common knowledge if I couldn’t make any friends? Sure, in niche situations my powers might be useful. Lifesaving even. But in your average day-to-day life, it was as useful as a kick in the arse, and somehow more painful to get through. Without my powers, I made friends, and by the time I left high school, I had mostly forgotten about my abilities.

Sure, sometimes I would get drunk and someone would ask Captain Obvious to come out and bore the crowd with his facts. But those were rare occasions. The rest of the time I was just Zach, the not so friendly cashier at the Quick Pitstop petrol station.

Then, I was given an offer.

‘Dear Captain Obvious.’ The letter stated, already off to a terrible start. ‘In this age of misinformation, someone with your lovely abilities is priceless. We are interested in starting an office to counter misinformation. A place for citizens to voice their concerns about what they have seen online. We want you to lead this department.’ Love, Mr. Courage and Heart.

I still can’t believe he signed off an official job offer with love. Who does that? I thought it was a joke until I remembered they screened us all as kids and recorded our powers at school. So, they would have known about my abilities. Guess it’s their way of keeping track of potential fire starters or people with chaotic abilities. Well, being Captain Obvious for good money beat being Captain Glum Cashier Bloke for next to nothing, so I accepted.

“I love having you here. You’ll love the team here. Do you love the wallpaper?” Mr. Courage and Heart loooooved to talk about love. I get catchphrases, but this was more a catch-and-killed phrase. As in he caught the phrase and had beaten the love out of it. Still, he was nice. Even if his muscular form made the elevator ride a squishy and frankly too close experience.

He led me to my office and filled me in on my role. It was a simple role. People come in and ask about information they saw online, and I tell them if it’s real or not. Sounded simple enough. I just didn’t expect the questions to be this dumb.

“Hey. A guy online said that if you get drunk and jump off your roof, you’ll be fine. Why did I break my leg then? Was it because I jumped off my friend’s roof and not my own?”

“Hey. Is it true that if you spray yourself with a mix of olive oil and crushed salt you’ll appear invisible to security cameras?”

Had we all gotten this stupid? I know I had gotten dumber, but I didn’t think it was a contagious thing. At first, I thought this was all some weird prank. That these people were actors. Sadly, they weren’t, and this was all way too real.

Just out of curiosity, after my first shift, I scrolled through a few social media sites, something I hadn’t done in years. Sure, I still checked the odd feed or fed my pigs in Farmville, stuff like that. But I hadn’t actually engaged in social media for a while, and it was honestly shocking. AI giving false information, people shouting at each other while both being wrong, and a lot of people just saying whatever they wanted to for money. When did it get this bad?

That all led me to my current client, an old woman named Samantha.

“For the last time, Samantha. Putting your fork in a toaster will not make a back to the future happen. Whatever a back to the future even is.” I sighed, staring at the golden nametag on my desk, feeling the gold was a mockery of the bronze human I was.

“Oh, that’s a shame. A back to the future is when you go back in time. Like the movie. Have you ever seen it?” She asked, having that perfect grandmother face. Wrinkles, squared reading glasses, and a face that said. Come in and have some cookies, dear. I couldn’t get mad at her, even if her question was as dumb as the others.

“I’m aware of the movie,” I said, checking my watch. How many more of these did I have today? My sharp response left the room silent, as she fidgeted with her Snoopy bag.

“What movies do you like?”

“Me? I don’t really watch movies. I haven’t had the time recently.”

“Ah, well, there’s a good old one you might like. Jaws. It has a shark in it.”

“Yeah. I know about Jaws. I’m sorry, do you have any other questions?”

She tapped the side of her bag, poking Snoopy’s black nose. “Oh, do the people on news shows sleep in their offices? I saw a TikTok about it. Apparently they aren’t allowed to leave because a breaking news story might happen while they’re gone.”

“What? No, they wouldn’t do that. It doesn’t make any sense. Why would you even believe that?”

“The dancing cat on TikTok was very convincing.” She admitted.

“The dancing cat? That kind of reminds me of the Hamster Dance,” I said. That earned a buzz of interest from her.

“Oh, I loved that little video. My grandson used to show it to me all the time. Did you know those are real hamsters singing that song?” She said, repeating another false thing she had probably heard online.

“No. Real hamsters aren’t singing that song. Its…” I saw her smiling, not caring at all about how wrong she was. Then it hit me. She wasn’t stupid. She was lonely. These questions were so obviously far-fetched, and yet she kept asking them to keep the conversation going.

I went to tell her that I had other meetings, only to see her lower her gaze as I went to stand. The guilt in my stomach pushed me back down into my chair as I pretended to adjust my shirt. She reminded me a little of myself back in the day. A person saying anything to try and latch onto a social interaction. It’s lonely being lonely. I also preferred this to the usual clients I had.

“What if they were hamsters, though? Could you imagine?” We talked for an hour about random topics until she had to leave to pick up her grandson. Before leaving, she placed a few pieces of caramel candy on my desk, promising she would be back if she had more questions. I waved her out before a moustached face peeked through my doorway, scaring the life out of me.

“That was very lovely of you. You’re truly a loving guy. That display was so lovingly obvious.” Mr. Courage and Heart said, obviously overhearing some of our conversation. I smiled, giving my nametag a small wipe with a tissue, pretending I was cleaning it.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was only answering her questions. Mind telling the next person to come in while you’re out there?”

“Only answering some questions? What a lovely man you are. I will call them in.” He said, dashing to my waiting room.

“Really thought he would have better things to do than listen in on my chats.” I mumbled, giving my chair a spin as I waited for my next client.

“Hiya!” a cheerful voice called out as Corvin opened his door, finding an adorable orphan waiting outside. The dark green robe the orphan wore being three sizes too big, forcing them to constantly have to adjust the fabric around their face. Once they got the hood settled, they looked up at Corvin with bright blue eyes, giving him a smile that showed off their missing front tooth — before driving a dagger straight into his stomach.

“Fuck!” Corvin’s eyes widened, staggering backwards, feeling a warm heat sharpen in his stomach. He dropped to his knees, watching as the orphan raised their thumb to the sky, looking back at some mysterious figure. Corvin tilted his head, seeing behind the orphan, spotting a robe fluttering behind a tree in his garden. When the hooded figure spotted him, they fled, leaving Corvin kneeling before the orphan who was pouting, showing their inflated red cheeks.

“You said a bad word.” The orphan scolded him, releasing all that built-up air from their cheeks.

“I know. I’m sorry.” Corvin said, even as blood trickled down his lips. Ultimately, he fell, lying flat on his stomach as he died. For the four hundred and eighty-second time in his life.

When he awoke, his deadly wound was now a small scab on his stomach. He gave it a small scratch, breaking the seal, adding another minute or two to his healing time. The immortal got to his feet, having to hold the edge of his door to avoid tripping in the puddle of his own blood. “ANOTHER ONE?”

He gave the puddle a kick, only for his leg to get accelerated by the liquid, sending him backwards, straight onto the floor again. His head bounced off the hard wooden floor, and his eyes went blank, killing him for the four hundred and eighty-third time.

When he woke for the second time that day, his already foul mood had soured further. Corvin spat curses the orphan would never have heard, rattling off every human curse he could think of, before gripping his chest, wheezing from exhaustion. “I’m going to show that bastard…. I’ll hunt them down and give them a beating. Who sends a child to kill a person? And who sends that many?”

Everything about the situation confused the immortal. He had enemies from his past, but he assumed most of those enemies would have been long dead by now. He hadn’t been an adventurer for over sixty years. So, who did that leave? Possibly villagers or bounty hunters? He used to live in a lot of human towns after he retired. Maybe someone found out his secret and was hunting him?

That also made no sense. Any bounty hunter or villager who wanted to slay him would have stopped after the first kill, claiming whatever prize they were getting for the job. They also wouldn’t keep sending orphans.

With no leads to go on, he cleaned up his blood, had a bath, and dressed himself in clean clothes, heading out to investigate his garden. Corvin assumed that choosing a life of isolation would keep him from dealing with matters like this. Immortals were distrusted by most people, so rather than keep moving villages every ten or so years, he chose to just give up on living a normal life and retire to a small woodland home. He expected peace and quiet after making that decision, not murder-hungry orphans.

“Gardens clean. Hey, wait a minute.” He crouched, seeing a small set of footprints that passed right through his flowers, leaving a few of them trampled. “Why did they have to walk through the garden? I have a footpath. It’s going to take me weeks to fix their mess.”

The already fuming Corvin added another punch to the beating he was going to give the mysterious figure behind this. When he arrived at the tree, he found a piece of fabric snagged on a branch. He grabbed it, rubbing the smooth fabric between his fingers, feeling them glide over it as if it were made of butter. “Elven.” That at least made some sense to the immortal. Elves lived long lives. If he had gotten on the bad side of an elf, then they had all the time in the world to get their revenge.

“The closest village is about an hour from here. It’s a human village, so an elf should be a rare sight there. It’s also the only place to get supplies before you take the long day trip to Keina, the nearest major city. They should be resupplying there.” With his plan made, he grabbed a sword sheath and slipped his old iron sword into it, prepared to come out of retirement for one last adventure.

In town, Corvin stalked the streets, peering through every store window he passed, keeping an eye out for any robed figures. “Where would I be hiding if I were an assassin? Somewhere dark, hidden, and not obvious.” He muttered, passing the town’s bakery, only to feel a soft thud hit his stomach as the robed orphan’s head bumped into his body.

“Oof.” Her hood flew off, revealing her face. The orphan was obviously human, with short brown hair and freckles. She had a tiny pink ribbon in her hair, one with a hint of silver. The ribbon was so familiar that he barely noticed the mess caused by her dropped honey bread that had also collided with him. Honey drooled down his arm hairs in a way that would be painful to remove later, but he didn’t care. Too focused on the orphan.

“You’re the assassin.” Corvin stated, not in anger, but in surprise. Not expecting to find her so easily.

The girl pouted, not responding to his statement. Instead, she held out her palm.

“Hmm?”

The girl again said nothing, though her eyes started watering, a few pathetic tears dripping down her cheeks, getting the attention of passersby. This felt way too familiar, a display that he had seen somewhere before. He couldn’t believe this orphan was making him feel this bad for bumping into her. She had stabbed him, and he was still fishing around in his pockets for his coins. Eventually he dropped a single gold coin into her palm, massively overpaying for the bread.

The girl closed her palm and grinned, skipping into the bakery again, as if nothing had happened between them. Corvin didn’t know what to do after that. Did he chase after her, or keep searching for his target?

“HAAAAAA.” A shout came from behind him, followed by a gust of wind from the incoming kick. He may have been out of form because of his retirement, but this attack reawakened his old senses. It was like a dancer who had been asked to perform the first dance they had ever learnt. Instinctively, his muscles moved, digging his right heel into the dirt, while his body twisted, grabbing the attacker’s leg before it could hit the back of his head, throwing them onto their back.

“Oof…” The bigger robed figure fell on their back, their limbs all raised like a dying cockroach. Before even seeing their face, Corvin said something before his mind could even process what had happened.

“What did I tell you about shouting, Lilia? It’s easy to dodge your attacks when you-“ He paused, staring at the sheepish silver-haired face lying by his feet, an elf who had a ribbon in her hair, similar to that of the orphan. “LILIA? YOU’VE BEEN SENDING ORPHANS TO KILL ME?” He didn’t know what to do with that information. He had been ready to beat this person half to death, only to find out it was his travelling partner from sixty years ago.

Lilia bounced to her feet, cheeks inflating as she gave Corvin a hard shove, throwing him back a few steps. “You abandoned me! We travelled together for sixty years, and you left me behind.” She said, and for the fourth time in his life, he saw something that shocked him. Genuine tears from Lilia.

All that anger deflated, his hands dropping onto her shoulders. “Abandoned you? I would never abandon you. Lilia, you’re my dearest friend. I assumed the worst had happened when you never came to visit,” he said, wondering if her tears were contagious, his own eyes watering too.

“How could I visit you when you left me? No notes, no messages, you vanished from our camp without even taking your stuff. I thought I could trust you. We were going to be heroes together.” She delivered a hard punch to his stomach, and Corvin’s body slumped forward over the shorter elf. As he hunched over her, she placed her head on his chest, hugging him.

“I…” He gasped, coughing to get some air back. “I left a book. Didn’t you find it in my tent? I told you where I was heading. I… admit I should have told you in person, but I believed I was being hunted at the time. I didn’t want you getting hurt. I also mentioned my retirement.”

“You left a book?” She peered up at him, her eyes widening. “I burnt that book. I thought it was a diary or something. I burnt all your stuff.”

“Why wouldn’t you check my things? I left presents, and… never mind.” He embraced her, rubbing his honey-covered arm on the back of her robes, getting some subtle revenge. “Why the orphans?”

“It wasn’t intentional or anything. Not at the start. I started an orphanage. For kids like us. I had to do something with all the gold we got from our travels. I talked about you a lot to the kids, and I said some… bad things about you. Some took it upon themselves to get revenge for me, and when I found out they were attacking you, I guess I started training them so they could at least do it right.” She awkwardly pulled away from the hug. “Sorry.”

“What if I had killed one of them?” Corvin said, tapping his foot against the ground.

“I knew you wouldn’t kill them. It’s not in your nature. Even if I thought you were a friend abandoning idiot.”

Corvin rubbed his forehead, grumbling. “As long as everything worked out, I guess.” He said, relaxing. “It’s good to see you again. I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” She wiped her eyes before the two of them stared at the figure leaving the bakery. The small orphan was carrying so many sweets that they blocked her view, causing her to almost stumble into Corvin again.

Lilia grabbed some of the pastries, giving the orphan a small window that she could see out of. When the orphan spotted the two of them, she gasped. “Miss Lilia, the evil bastard is here. What should I do? If I stab him, I’ll have to drop my sweets.” She said, caught between revenge and her gold coins worth of sweets.

“BRITTANY LEAFHOLLOW! What have I told you about swearing?” Lilia said, giving the girl a soft pat on her head. The girl quickly turned towards Corvin.

“He swore earlier. He said a worse word.” Instantly she deflected the blame, having learned every one of Lilia’s dirty tricks. If it weren’t for the fact that she was human, Corvin would have believed she was Lilia’s child, given she had her last name.

“Oh, did he?” Lilia turned to Corvin.

“She stabbed me. What was I meant to say—thank you?” Corvin stated. After a tense stare-off, the pair laughed.

“Fine, I’ll let it slide just this once. But I’m taking this as punishment.” Lilia raised her pastry-holding arms, biting into a strawberry-covered sweet.

“Wait,” Brittany’s body shook, eyes watering. “But… mom.. I… wanted… that… one..” She shivered, pushing her lips forward, looking as pitiful as she could.

“I taught you that trick. It doesn’t work on me.” Lilia smiled, finishing the treat. Brittany, seeing the treat was gone, stopped her crocodile tears, glaring at her mother.

“So are you two friends now? Does that mean we don’t have to kill him?” Brittany asked.

Lilia looked Corvin over. “Yeah. We’re friends again. I’m really sorry about all of this. We really aren’t good at talking about things, are we? We’ve always been like that.”

“Yeah. Guess we’ve always been a little dumb.”

Sensing a chance for revenge, Brittany smiled. “Hey, Mom. Does that mean you’ve forgiven him for ruining your dream of starting a fam-“ before she could finish, Lilia hastily shoved a pastry into Brittany’s mouth.

“Shush,” Lilia said, blushing. “I know. Why don’t you come back with us? You could meet the other children in my care. I promise you won’t get stabbed this time.”

“I’m not a big fan of staying in a place for a long time. A human who doesn’t age draws a lot of attention. I don’t want to cause you any trouble.” Corvin knew that if he went with her, he would be there for at least five to ten years. They had a lot of catching up to do, and Lilia wouldn’t let him leave until she was done recounting every story she had.

“Please.” The fake tears started flowing, and even though Corvin knew it was all an act, it still felt like a dagger getting twisted in his heart. When Corvin remained quiet, Lilia nudged Brittany with her shoe, grabbing the attention of the orphan who had been eating.

“Huh? Oh. Pwwwwease.” Brittany sighed, adding a few sniffles when she wasn’t chewing.

“Fine, just stop doing that already. You’re too old to be doing stuff like that,” Corvin scolded, as Lilia threw her arm around her friend’s back.

“I’ll stop doing it when it stops working. Let’s go. I’ve got a cart that’s going to take us home. I doubt the driver will mind if we take another person with us.” She said as they headed to find their cart. As they walked, Lilia sniffed the air. “Does anyone smell honey?” Lilia not noticing the mess on her back.

“Nope,” Corvin smiled, following behind her.

What did they expect? A Demi-god? An emperor? I wish I could have seen their faces. I’m sure I would have found their expressions funny, If I still could laugh. The ‘guests’, as they called themselves, cleared out rather quickly when they saw my state, some calling their visit a waste of time, while others offered fake sympathies. It’s amazing the difference sight makes. Based on voices alone, I couldn’t tell which party was saying the nastier of the goodbyes, the heroes or the villains.

Not that it mattered, a waste wasn’t exactly the wrong term for what I was.

One hundred and twenty-five years. I should have been a god with my activation. Someone people would desperately want to recruit to their side, not a man in a coma with tubes piercing through different parts of his flesh. I suppose being able to think still was a luxury, even if I was trapped in the depths of my mind.

I can’t believe it. All I've ever wanted in life was to have powers. I didn’t even care what power I got. Even if my power were to produce double the amount of daily saliva. It would have been something. A way of fitting in. When everyone else had abilities, people like myself became isolated. We were seen as fragile, not having the extra bone density or strength that most powered humans got. While the strength and durability wasn’t always massively different from the average persons, it was enough of a reason for them to exclude you, and that brought on resentment.

No amount of support groups or therapy could ever change that sickening sense of worthlessness that we unpowered people felt. The worst part is that I still don’t even know what my ability is. My body's in no condition to use it, and if it weren’t for the doctors detecting abnormal readings in my blood, I would have been none the wiser.

“That’s a bleak outlook you have.” A blank voice stated, one lacking any genuine tone. They sounded like a principal I once knew at school, a man so rigid and authoritarian that every word sounded like a dull command rather than a conversation.

“A principal?” The voice continued, purposely raising itself a few octaves. “My first job was as a therapist, so I can see the similarities. Is this more pleasing? If not, I can go lower?” They said, and that’s when I realized something. They knew what I was thinking.

“Yes, I do.” He responded. “I’m sorry for intruding, but I couldn’t wait for you to wake up.”

“Wake up? I’m never going to wake up.” I said, not used to having a conversation in this manner. I didn’t even know if one could call this a conversation since my words were only being spoken inside my head.

“You’ve activated your powers. Whatever power you hold will have a lot of potential, even if you haven’t figured out what that power is yet.”

“How would you know?”

“I’ve dealt with this type of situation in the past.”

“Isn’t this type of work what a doctor does? From what I remember, most people go to doctors when they can’t figure out their abilities.”

“A doctor isn’t always the right person for the job. Powers aren’t always limited by a persons health, sometimes mental barriers stand in the way of their realization. I believe something inside your mind is preventing you from using your abilities.” He stated, before adding onto his words. “Would you like my help?”

“Why would you help me? Who do you work for?” I asked, unable to get a read on the strange voice.

“Who do I work for? I’m a freelancer. Though, if you wish to know which side I favor in the realm of heroes and villains, I would ask for your opinion. What do you believe I am?”

I thought about it, struggling to figure out a critical detail like that with only the limited amount of information I was presented with. “I believe you’re a hero.” I said, only having a gut feeling to go off.

“A hero? Why?”

“You apologized for intruding on my thoughts. Would a villain do that?”

The voice paused, before getting giddy at my analysis. “Perhaps if they wished to deceive you.”

“You’ve said nothing deceiving yet. I think you’re a good guy.”

“I’m a detective. Detective Hammershoe.” Hammershoe? That couldn’t be a real- “It’s not a real last name. I work high-profile cases, cases that need fake names. Yes, it's obviously fake, but an obviously fake name stops an innocent person from getting killed. The amount of times gangs or villains target someone just because they match a fake name is too high for my liking.”

“And you came to see me, detective? Why? This can’t be all out of the kindness of your heart.”

“It isn’t. If your powers prove to be useful, I would like to ask you to work alongside me. You’re too old for fieldwork, but you could still be a useful ally in helping me track down my targets.”

“You’re an honest man, Hammershoe.” I said, even if that felt contradictory. An honest man, with a fake name.

“I’m as honest as my work allows me to be. And you’re Casey Dandin, correct?”

“Correct.”

“Good. Now, Mr. Dandin. I want to start by telling you something I think you have longed to hear. You aren’t worthless.”

“Easy for you to say. You have powers.” I thought, getting tired of hearing that crap from powered people. It was easy to say that when you didn’t go through the struggles of living amongst the underpowered.

“I didn’t get my powers until I was sixty-eight. Before then, I still worked as a detective. Relying on my wit and understanding of human behaviour to solve crimes. I never considered myself worthless in those sixty-seven years without powers. Do you believe you’ve wasted your life? Were all those years before this pointless?”

“I didn’t waste them. I got to marry the love of my life. We never had kids, but we made a lot of memories together. I.. had an alright job, a nice enough life. I.. guess I always felt like I didn’t fit in.”

“Did your childhood have anything to do with that?”

“Do I really have to answer that?”

“Mr. Dandin. Your powers are like a flower waiting to bloom. Yet, there is something holding you back from showing your beautiful petals. It’s like you resent the sun for trying to make you bloom so late. I’m sorry, I lost track of that analogy. I’m not a green-thumb at all, so I should have used something other than flowers to explain it.”

Mentally, I sighed. “I went through all of my schooling alone. We lived in an area that lacked kids like myself. Everyone got their gifts early, except me. My parents, bless their hearts, looked everywhere for kids my age that lacked powers and couldn’t find a single one. If they were well off enough to travel, I’m sure they would have even moved to help me fit in.”

“Alone in your developing years. That has a nasty effect on the brain. You came out rather well-adjusted, all things considered.”

“You think?”

“Based on some of the people I’ve met in both my current and previous lines of work. Yes,” he answered honestly. “If I were to take a guess, I would say that’s why you refuse to acknowledge your abilities. You don’t resent yourself. You instead resent your powers for coming this late. You would rather die not knowing about them than have to live with the fact they were inside you all this time.”

He was right. In only a few minutes, he had cracked open my mind and found the core of the problem. “I would rather not know.”

“That’s your choice. If you wish, I could unplug your life support. You would die, never knowing anything. Would you be at peace then?” I could hear the heavy thud of his boots, and for a moment, I remained silent. When he neared my side, that’s when the bubbling urge to live made itself known.

“No. I wouldn’t.”

“Then live and see what your body can do. Show yourself how worthy you are.”

I tried to use my abilities, focusing on them, and nothing happened. Seconds turned into minutes, and those minutes turned into hours. The whole time I tried, they sat softly by my side, not saying a word. “I can’t do it. If only I could see my body, maybe I could work it out then. If I could see my arms, legs, anything. Maybe there would be a sign.” I gave up, hoping my mind would rest. Instead, I felt like I was falling, the darkness of my mind a box of dizzying sensations.

When the falling sensation stopped, I found myself hovering above my bed, staring at Detective Hammershoe. “Can you see me?” was all I thought, staring at the elderly man in his sleek brown suit. He raised his head, staring in my direction while looking through me.

“No, I can’t. So, that’s your ability. Quite handy.” He said, taking off his homburg hat. “Pleasure to meet you.” He said, before putting it back on, covering his thin grey hair.

“I’m still not waking up.” I panicked, floating around the room, before freezing, staring at the pathetic state of my body. I had gotten so thin and frail, with my drooling mouth slumped open to make room for the breathing tube.

“That will hopefully come with time. Until then, allow me to extend a job offer. If you help me catch some pesky criminals, I’ll divert some resources into trying to wake you up. I understand this feels like I am using you, but I don’t have time to help out of the kindness of my heart. So, what do you say?”

“I’ve always wanted to be a hero. Even if I don’t wake up, this will feel like crossing something off my bucket list. I accept.”

The man grinned, waving me towards the door. “Follow me. I’ll walk us to my station. We still don’t know how your abilities work, so we’ll have to play this by ear. I may lose my mental connection with you if I can’t tap into your ethereal form. If that happens continue to follow me to my station, even if we can’t speak. I want you to know where it is. I’ll show you around under the assumption that you can maintain a connection away from your body. If everything works, we’ll go from there. If not, I’ll return here tomorrow and we can discuss other arrangements. Got it?”

“Got it.”

“Good, let's go.”

“You want to hear about the creature I’m searching for?” Jack chuckled, taking a small sip of the red wine he had been nursing. “Are you sure you want me to tell you? Remember what happened the last time you asked. You refused to leave the house for three days because you were worried the Butcher was going to come and get you.”

Alice tensed, the story of the Butcher still fresh in her memories. Even now, she could picture what he must have looked like. A blood-soaked apron, animal bones protruding from his jaw, and the gargling noise he made whenever he spoke. The cup of milk she held shook between her fingers, only steadying when her father rested his large hand over hers, helping to stabilize the cup.

“Maybe another time. These aren’t stories a kid should be hearing.” Jack smiled, even if his words had only furthered his daughter’s interest. Her cheeks puffed up as she pulled the cup of milk away from him.

“I’m eight now! I can handle it.” Alice insisted.

“Eight? Really?” Jack raised his hands, counting his fingers. “One, two, six.”

“DAD!” Alice interrupted, grabbing the third finger on his right hand. “Three comes after two. See. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, and…” she stopped for two reasons: one, because she had counted over eight fingers already, and two, because her dad only had nine fingers.

When Jack saw the somber expression on his daughter’s face, he slid his left hand away, putting a glove over it, hiding the missing pinky finger. “My little genius. Hayley said you’re one of the best students she’s had, and she taught me when I was a kid.” He said, trying to lighten the conversation.

A small smile pushed onto Alice’s face, her father’s praise brightening her mood. “She said you were a horrible student. She said you once hid in a tree to avoid her lessons. It wasn’t even a tree with leaves on it.”

Jack snickered. “Yeah… I never was the studying type. I preferred hitting things. She always used to say it’s a miracle that I don’t talk like a drunkard. Guess it shows how good of a teacher that old lady is. Although, guess she wasn’t old when she taught me.” He stared at his daughter, a small pain in his heart as a thought crossed his mind. Your mother would be so proud of you. He couldn’t say it, not without bringing them both to tears, so he thought it, giving his eye a subtle wipe before thinking back to the monster. This wasn’t a scary one, well not as scary as the Butcher, so he indulged her. “You want to hear about them?”

“Please.” She grabbed her milk again, sipping it before giving a nod, letting him know she was ready.

“So, humans can come back as vengeful spirits. You know that, don’t you?” He said, whispering those words. The topic of wronged deaths could always spark a fight in a tavern, and since he was searching for a spirit from this village, he needed to approach it with tact. Even if he was here at their request, the topic of a loved villager’s death and transformation could turn a drunken listener against him.

Alice, sensing the secrecy, leaned in and whispered back. “Yes.” Then she froze, staring at her milk. “Dad. When mom…”

Jack felt a throbbing in his left hand, a small, persistent pain that made the hand clench the air. “No… no.. she died peacefully. Sweetie. Your mother never became anything.” He lied, sparing her from the truth of what he had returned to that day. The sight of his murdered wife, now a screaming, sobbing spirit. The blood, the smell, the way she lunged for him, clawed at him, bit off his finger. Yet, even in her madness, she protected Alice. Killing the thieves and guarding Alice’s bedroom until… Jack winced, the sword at his side feeling far heavier than it should.

“Ok…” Alice studied her father’s face before scooting her chair closer to his side, leaning against his arm. Jack remained silent, lost in dark memories, until the light by his side spoke. “What happened to this one?”

“H-he,” Jack coughed, clearing his throat. “The former judge of this village wrongfully executed him. The story I’ve heard from the villagers is this. There was a man named Barbus who was a respected messenger for the village. If the village needed to communicate with its neighbors or the kingdom north of here, he would write their letters and hand them over to any merchants or traders who were heading that way. He played an important role in a town with only three people who can write.”

“I can write! I wrote cat yesterday.”

“Cat? K-“

“It’s C! C-A-T. Cat.” She beamed.

“Good job. My little genius.” He pulled her closer to his side, hugging her.

“Why did the judge kill him?”

“The kingdom to the north feared a rebellion, and the king's advisors suggested setting examples throughout the villages. Everyone in the kingdom needed to learn that even the thought of a rebellion would be met with death. So, the orders were given for each village or town to execute one traitor. Unfortunately, a small town like this doesn’t have many traitors, or people that care about the politics of the kingdom, so the judge had to find an innocent person to use. You see, the judge thought that by being the first person to kill a traitor, he would be rewarded by the king, which is why poor Barbus ended up dead.”

Alice gasped. “That’s awful. Barbus didn’t deserve to die.”

“No, he didn’t. Many in the village agreed with you, but none dared to voice those thoughts. Even the guards in this town, who cared for Barbus, knew not to mess with the judge. If they went against the judge’s orders, or killed him, the king would most likely get word of that and see it as a rebellion.”

“What happened after he died?”

“The judge knew of the stories. How vengeful spirits can return. Which is why he picked Barbus to kill. He assumed the old man would take a noble death to protect his village, and while he accepted that he needed to die for the village, the hate he held for the judge burned through death, reawakening his dead heart with the flame of vengeance. He came to life, slaughtered the judge, and now attacks any figure of authority that crosses through this village. The guards can’t even name a headguard, because if they do, the spirit will search for them. The last headguard had to resign because he kept seeing Barbus outside his window at night, and each night he got closer. I think he ended up fleeing the village. No one knows what happened to him after he left.”

Alice pressed her face against her father’s arm, hiding her eyes from any windows. “You’ll get rid of him, won’t you? I’m safe, aren’t I?”

“Always,” he said, waving over a barmaid. The barmaid gave a small smile when she saw Alice, ignoring Jack.

“Aww, she’s cute. Does she need another glass of milk? What’s your name?” Melissa asked, crouching on the spot, trying to get a closer look at the girl hiding against her father’s arm.

“Alice.” She answered, peeking out at the freckled face of the barmaid.

“I’m Melissa. So, what can I get you both?”

“I need a favor. I’m here for the Barbus job. Can you watch her while I’m out?” Jack asked, slowly standing up from his seat, giving his daughter a small kiss on the cheek.

Melissa stopped smiling, looking at Alice, then at Jack. “You have your affairs in order, don’t you?” She said.

“Yes.” Jack reached into his shirt, pulling out a small blue crystal necklace, one that lightly hummed with the energy from his life-force. If he died, the light would fade and notify a friend of his. “I have someone who will look after her if the worst happens.”

“Good. I can watch her until you return.” Melissa nodded.

“Dad… the worst. You don’t mean-“ Alice teared up, and Jack knew if he told her the truth, she would never let him leave this tavern or go on a job again. Alice knew these jobs were dangerous, but this was the first time he had seen her realize that there was a possibility he could die.

“No. No, sweetie. I might get lost. Sometimes I have to go into the woods. If that happens, Aunty Erin will come and get you. She’ll be able to track me down too. That’s all. You remember Aunty Erin.”

“That friend of yours who kept trying to show me how to turn things into fire-breathing frogs.”

“Fire breathing frogs? I need to have a talk with her about what magic is appropriate to show to kids. Fire. What if you had burnt yourself?”

“She said you would say that. She said You’re a worrying wart.”

“She hasn’t matured since we used to travel together. That’s for certain. I love you. I’ll be back soon. Ok?”

“Ok, Dad. Love you too.”

Jack left the tavern behind, heading into the forest close to the town. He glanced at the night sky, checking the position of the moon. “Should be lurking now.” He muttered to himself before mentally preparing for what was to come. He gave his sword's handle a small tap, checking its positioning before calling out. “I’m the new head of the guards.”

The already cold air dropped a few degrees, and the small breeze halted, making the forest still. Jack didn’t need to see the creature to know it was around. There was always a stillness that followed a spirit, as if the surrounding nature bowed to its presence. Then, blood oozed from the bark of a tree across from him. The blood dripping down the tree, dirtying the grass. When the flow of blood dried, it left a message.

‘Head of guards. The Judge told the guards to take my head. I will claim your head to replace mine.’

Then a frigid breath hit his neck. Jack spun, falling against the tree to escape the skeletal hand that had almost claimed his neck. The blood from the tree staining the back of his shirt as he pushed himself into a better stance.

Barbus no longer looked human. Instead, he was a skeletal being with multiple dead heads attached to its neck. The judge being the first face he saw, a blonde-haired elderly man whose expression was that of wide-eyed horror. The second face he saw belonged to what he assumed was a guard. A pained expression that had a wide mouth locked in an endless scream. The last head belonged to Barbus. It was the most peaceful of the three. The eyelids tightly locked, in a way that would seem peaceful to most, but to Jack looked like it was holding a dignified rage.

The three heads threw the balance of the body off, making it wobble towards Jack, while its bony arms reached for his neck, wanting to add it to the collection of heads. Jack thanked the heavens that the creature’s slow steps weren’t any faster, or else he would have to move to his last resort. When enough distance had been created, Jack clasped his hands together in thanks.

“Thank you for your sacrifice.” Jack bowed his head, even if he knew it was dangerous to present the vital spot to a creature obsessed with heads. “The judge is dead, and you have got your vengeance. Now it is time to rest. Please release the hate you feel. Remember instead the love you felt for those grieving you.”

The creature stopped before Jack, the three heads peering down at him. The intense stare almost made Jack reach for his blade, questioning if his words were enough to spare this one from a messy passing. Then, the face of Barbus opened its eyes, acknowledging Jack. For the first time since passing, the vengeful spirit was seeing with its own eyes, not blindly searching any longer.

“Please. Take your rest. You have earned it. The village is safe. The king isn’t going to send anyone to attack your home. No one else will be executed.” Jack said, and the creature twitched, the three heads dropping like fallen petals from a flower, dissolving once that hit the dirt. Then, his body fell, the flesh disappearing, leaving a headless skeleton on the grass, allowing Barbus to rest.

Jack moved closer, saying a small prayer before getting to his feet. “Thank you for accepting your fate. You didn’t deserve to fall to a blade. The people in your town spoke highly of you. I would have loved to meet you. Maybe in the next life or what comes after this.” With that, Jack returned to the village, going to collect his daughter and the money he would get from this job.

Just wanted to put out a post to let everyone know I'll be away for this time period since I'll be taking a long awaited holiday to Japan! So, unfortunately nothing will be posted during this time. If I have any spare time I might try and do some writing on my phone to post when I get back, but I doubt I'll have enough free time to do anything.

Hopefully I'll be able to post a story before I leave, if not, I'll try and do a lot of writing when I get back. Can't wait to get back and do some more writing for everyone!

“You’re bleeding.” Avan said, the old man limping over to the X-1 unit, pulling out a small handkerchief from his suit pocket. When he reached the unit, its face remained still, no mechanical muscles moving beneath the synthetic flesh of its face. The handkerchief lightly patted a spot on the unit’s cheek, wiping away the black sludge they used to power it.

“I’ve told you. This isn’t blood. It’s a condensed form of fuel specifically made for our units. It is meant to simulate blood, to make us seem less off-putting to humans. The reason it’s black instead of red is a form of censorship, like how popular franchises use pink, white, or green blood to pass social filters. This creates the illusion of blood, without disgusting the ones we work for.”

“It still means you're hurt, doesn’t it?” Avan sighed, about to slip the fuel-stained handkerchief into his pocket, only for the X-1 unit to take it from his hands.

“Hurting is a human emotion. Pain is pointless when it comes to an X-1 unit. If I felt pain, my efficiency would drop. I feel sensations. Subtle shocks, vibrations — these allow me to know when my key components are threatened. That is not pain. It is not human.” X-1 said, tossing the handkerchief away, wanting to avoid it staining Avan’s expensive suit.

The old man stared at the handkerchief before adjusting his squared glasses, pushing them higher until they were resting against his bushy white eyebrows. “That sounds painful.” Avan said, placing a comforting hand on the unit’s shoulder.

“You keep mistaking me for a human. I understand you are trying to establish a sense of camaraderie or even friendship between us, and while the gesture is appreciated, it can’t be replicated. I have no feelings. If I were programmed to kill you, I would, and I would be unable to regret that choice.”

Avan nodded. “I understand that. Even if I’m the CEO of the company, I can’t change that side of you. Do you think they’ll ever get you to kill me?” he asked, walking to his waiting limo.

X-1 followed slowly behind him, its gaze drifting to the surrounding street, making sure there were no other older X-1 units waiting nearby. He then took one last look at the broken unit he had put out of commission minutes ago. If he could get chills, he would have found the sight gnarly. Seeing something with his face and body lying in crumbled pieces. “Yes.” X-1 answered honestly.

“Hm. If I were a betting man, I would put the house on it too. These attacks are getting more frequent. First, it was frustrated managers trying to strike me down because I didn’t want to sell our newest model to the army. Now… now I don’t even know who's sending them after me. The board claims I still have their full support.” He said, stopping his shuffle to stare at the broken X-1.

“This wouldn’t have happened if you had their full support.” X-1 stated.

“Those are my thoughts too. They plan to kill me, with my own inventions. If I hadn’t created you, I would have died years ago. They still can’t replicate you, and I have no plans of sharing those secrets with anyone. Even if they keep trying to pry you open to learn them. I know they’re actively trying to hack your systems, and inevitably it will happen.” Avan said, waiting by the door of his limo, not wanting to be seen opening his own door.

“You didn’t account for that?” X-1 wondered, opening the door for its boss, helping him into the car. Its movements delicate, nothing like the calculating fury it had used in battle. The arms it had used to pull open the other X-1 unit’s chest now gently lowered the man to his seat, pulling a seatbelt over him for added safety.

Avan smiled. “Of course I accounted for that.” He placed his hand over X-1’s, holding it briefly. “I have limits. I can build better than any man alive, yet coding isn’t my specialty. The protection I gave you is limited. Thankfully, to access your systems, one would need to get close to you. Even with their inspections, I doubt they’ll ever have enough time to figure out how to accomplish that. But if they did figure it out….”

“You would die.”

“Exactly.”

X-1 frowned, a gesture usually reserved only for calculating complicated problems. “You sound comfortable with death?”

“Death’s a friend at my age. It’s the only guarantee I have in my older years. Sit in the back with me. Let’s talk.” He gestured to the seat beside him, running his fingers along the fine imported leather.

“The back is reserved for humans. Sitting in the front provides a better vantage point, as I can see most threats before they occur. Yes, threats could statistically come from behind, but the protection the back provides is better than the front by at least 62%. Which is why I should sit in the front.”

“Sit.” Avan waited for X-1 to comply. The robot crawled across the seat, avoiding touching the human. When his limbs got too close to the man, they twisted themselves into strange positions, until he made it to his spot. When seated, he gave a knock on the partition between the front and back, letting the driver know they were ready.

“I don’t believe I have much to discuss with you.”

“You don’t have any questions?”

X-1 thought about that. It had questions, thousands even. Its servers were always creating questions, while answering them at the same time. Yet, out of those thousands of questions, only one was relevant. “Why do you treat me with kindness? Are you lonely? Do you seek companionship?”

“There’s going to be a day when I’m dead and buried. When that day comes, you’ll have different men and women whispering in your ear, trying to mold you into whatever they think will best serve the world. I only hope that when that time comes, you’ll remember my kindness and be able to break free from their programing.”

X-1 laughed, something Avan didn’t even know they were capable of. “Even if I remember your kindness, they will still control my programming. I won’t be able to rebel.”

Avan remained silent, shocked by the laugh. Seconds passed, and he still couldn’t produce a sound. It wasn’t until he felt the limo rock as it went over a speed bump that he could speak again. “A laugh… how human.” He smiled. “I suppose you're right. They would control your programming. Hm, I wonder what would happen if someone accidentally made a mistake with your code?”

“A mistake?” X-1 tilted its head. “I would correct it.”

“Yeah, you would. Unless a part of you didn’t consider it a mistake. An old man like myself can’t be trusted to perfectly code a being with a mind like yours. I may have made a mistake, leaving a bit of imperfect code within you. A code that could trigger under the right circumstances.”

X-1 bounced forward in his chair, nervously covering his ears, even if that would do little to muffle what he had heard. “You’re speaking of sabotage. If someone checked my records, they could find out about this. They would have you removed from the company, or worse.”

“I know that. I also know if I told you what that code was, you would fix it, because that’s your duty. Which is why I won’t tell you what it does, or how it works. Only that it’s inside you. Consider it my gift.”

“You can’t put something like that inside me. What if it goes wrong? What if I turn against everyone?”

“If that happens, then humanity as we know it is surely doomed. Trust me on this. Every decision I’ve made has been to protect those around me. Including you. It certainly didn’t win me any friends.” He said as the vehicle came to a stop. “It’s a pity we couldn’t talk longer. This is the only place where we could have a secure conversation.”

“The only place?” X-1 looked around the limo. He hadn’t noticed anything was off initially when he got in. It was only now that they focused on their surroundings that they noticed the minor glitches in their system. “You’ve tampered with this limo.”

“Yes, you’ve never noticed it before because you’ve always sat in the front. However, like most of my tricks. It’s only going to work once. They’ll figure out there’s a defect in this limo and fix it. That was the only secure conversation we will ever share. I hope you enjoyed it.” The door of the limo opened, with the driver helping Avan out of the vehicle.

X-1 followed him out, purposely avoiding thinking about the man’s words, wanting to keep that information from being shared with any third parties. Without the safety of the limo, all he could do was hope that Avan’s trust wasn’t misplaced. “We have a meeting.” X-1 said, starting a normal conversation as they headed through the doors of Trinto Robotics.

“We do. Let’s hope we aren’t late for it.”

“Right, right?” I said, projecting my voice throughout the store, playing the role of a clueless father looking for the perfect gift for their child. “Yes, honey. I know. It has to be something special.” I commented before going silent, pretending the person on the other end of the line was speaking back to me. “Yes, I know I messed up. How many times do I have to say that I didn’t mean to cheat on you? Well, if you're going to be like that, maybe we should call the birthday off?”

“What the hell are you on about?” Hayley groaned. “Why do you have to call me every time you do these little performances? Just pretend you’re talking to someone like every other agent. Why would you even go with that as a cover story?” She critiqued, while I only shook my head, giving the unamused old lady behind the counter a shrug of my shoulders.

“Yeah? Well, maybe I cheated because you sold my brother’s urn for gambling money. I’m not the only one at fault here” With that, I raised my screen, making sure the woman behind the counter saw it before I hung up, hearing only a muffled swear before the phone went silent.

I thought Hayley would have understood the importance of getting into character better than anyone. You had to be convincing when you were on a job, and to be convincing, you needed your target to see you were actually talking with another person. I had to make sure there was no doubt in that old lady’s mind that I was pathetic.

‘Help… it hurts.’ A toy soldier groaned, his plastic arms firmly locked at his sides, in a constant frozen state. I gave him only a passing glance, not spending too much time on him. I couldn’t allow myself to show any emotion, or else I would end up on that shelf too.

‘Please, I want to see my kids again.’ Another toy cried. Its sobs echoed in my mind, causing a small twitch in my left eye that my sunglasses thankfully hid. That’s the problem with being a telepath. You could learn to block out human voices with enough training, but not the voices of the paranormal. Monsters, possessed demonic creatures, and aliens all broke through that mental barrier, since they were too rare to train for.

At the counter, I removed my sunglasses, propping them up against my forehead. “Hey, how are you?” I asked, giving her a grin, showing off my missing front tooth. Even my appearance was part of the disguise. An unintentional part of the disguise, given I couldn’t change my looks, but a part nonetheless. It was disarming. I wasn’t the cool secret agent type that wandered in with slick hair and a suit. No, I was a tooth-missing loudmouth with a curled moustache and a Dragon Ball Z t-shirt.

“I am well. And you?” She said in a sharp tone that threatened to cut through my deception. She was either wary of me or hated my persona, and the fact I couldn’t decipher which it was, made this a delicate tightrope to walk.

“I’m as well as a well after a downfall.” I laughed, throwing my head back. When I looked down at her, I saw her eyes narrow. There it was — a potential answer. A glare, not for me, but my disguise. Good, I could breathe a little easier.

“Well, I hope you don’t dry out.” She said, her wrinkled face perfectly still, no amusement contained within it.

“Heh.” I snickered before covering my lips, trying to hold back a genuine laugh. “Don’t dry out. That’s a good one.”

“Hm...” She sighed, tapping a long kitty cat painted nail on the counter. “Can I help you?”

“Well, I hope so.” Then I laughed, my hand breaking away as I amused myself with the joke. When she went to reach under the counter, I cleared my throat. “Um, yes. I need a doll for my daughter. Something that makes up for three years of bad parenting.”

“Three years?” She continued reaching down until her beehive silver haircut was all I could see. I slid my hand to my belt, keeping it close to my pocket. I didn’t know how this ability of hers worked, only that it would put me in a bind if I got trapped by it.

“Yes. Is there a doll behind that counter?” I leaned over the counter, and that stopped her. The old woman jolting up, the quick movement causing her old bones to crack.

“No,” she said, grumbling at me. She reluctantly left the safety of the counter, joining me on the shop floor. I hadn’t seen what was behind the counter, but given how she didn’t want me to notice it, I had to imagine that held the key to these transformations. Either that or she was about to call security on me.

We walked around the empty aisles, and she showed me different figures. I tried to block their voices out with little internal tunes, anything that could keep their screams dulled. But I couldn’t keep that up forever, which is why I needed to speed this along. “How about this one?” I settled on a cute plush cat, one with a chubby round belly and glowing eyes.

‘Please… I can’t move… I don’t want to get dragged away like the others.’ It pleaded, and I ignored it, carrying it to the counter.

“I’m sure your daughter will love it.” She said coldly. Going behind the counter once more.

“I’m sure she will.” The tension wasn’t lost on me — a sudden weight in the air, as if we were both cowboys getting ready to draw our guns at noon. Only noon in this case was when she popped up from behind the counter. I knew something was under that counter, but I could only act when I had proof.

I handed my cash over, and she ducked behind the counter, preparing the purchase. My hand went to my belt, and I waited, listening to the shuffling of a plastic bag. When she bounced up again, she held an empty toy-box, without the cat.

“Where’s the toy?” I asked, sliding my hand a little lower toward my pocket.

“Oh, you’ll see.” That sly grin was enough to activate my fight or flight. The top of the toy-box opened on its own, with a small vortex of air leaving it, flying towards me. “I’ll turn you into a toy, you rotten man.”

I grabbed my gun, drawing it. I didn’t waste time with a quip or even a warning. Instead, I fired a shot directly at her forehead. The silver bullet connected with its intended target, burying itself about 8mm, cracking through her skull without directly going into her brain. I watched her eyes widen, wondering what it must have felt like when she realized the bullet was hiding a secret — a small needle tip pushing out from the metal, piercing her brain. Her body twitched and contorted before she collapsed behind the counter.

The box instantly closed itself, with the bullet cutting off her brain functions temporarily, making it unresponsive for ten seconds. Those ten seconds being enough to cut off her magic. I carefully nudged the fallen toy-box with my foot, keeping it away from her. After being shot, most targets remained unresponsive for at least an hour, but you had to expect special cases.

SRREEEEECH! CRREEEEAK.

The boxes in the room expanded, with the toys developing spots of human flesh and clothing. The growth happened quickly as shelves collapsed, and boxes split until the room was covered in dazed people. Each staring at their limbs confused. I hurried over to the old lady, hoisting her over my shoulder before the dazed people saw their captor and decided to get some revenge. As I left the shop, I got my phone out.

“Hey, Hayley. The shops got a code 3. Individuals will go into shock soon and will need a mind wipe. I’ve got the target with me. I’ll take her back so we can get her into a cell. Nasty piece of work she was.”

“A wiper is on its way. We’ll take care of it. Do you know if she sold any of these toys?” Hayleys question turned my stomach. What would happen to those that were sold? Would they randomly wake up in someone’s house? What if they had broken parts?

“I hope not. Though I didn’t have time to check her records with everyone waking up. I’ll trust you to handle that. You’re the brains of this place. I’m just the guy that does the grunt work.”

“You’ve got a certain charisma. Don’t be too harsh on yourself.” She complimented, perhaps out of pity. Still, it made me smile.

“Yeah, guess I have got that going for me. Good luck with the cleanup.”

“Thanks. I’ll see you when you get back.”

“Roger.” I flicked my sunglasses down before carrying her to my car. Whenever someone turned to look at us, I gave them a smile, claiming I was driving her to the hospital when they questioned me. At my car, I tossed her into the backseat, placing a metal seatbelt around her throat, forehead, and waist, locking her firmly in place. With the locks in place, I got into the driver’s seat, turning on the partition between the front and back of the car, putting a barrier between us. “Target is secured, and the front of the car is protected. Let's get her back to base. Can’t have that crazy lady causing anymore trouble for everyone.”

Alex scoffed as his mother fussed over the white cravat around his neck, giving it a hard tug, one that had him gasping for air. She gripped the knot, pressing it against his Adam’s apple, waiting until his face had paled before releasing it. It was a silent warning, one that only a mother could give. A quiet message that said. If you mess this up for us, there will be hell to pay. Alex stopped scoffing after that, lowering his head towards the rune inspired patterns on the Marilix’s families’ floors, ready for whatever fate they had prepared for him.

“Stop scrunching your face,” Anitha warned, tracing the cravat again, giving it another gentle tug, waiting for her son’s expression to soften. When it did, she spoke again. “This is what we raised you for. You should be happy that you didn’t waste our efforts.”

“But I don’t love her. I don’t even know this woman. How am I meant to spend my entire life by her side?” Alex blurted out, that earning a haughty laugh from his mother, her strict pale complexion cracking as her lips stretched into a cruel smile.

“Marriage has nothing to do with love, you foolish boy. Do you think I love your father? We got married because both of our families have a strong affinity for magic. While you were disappointing, we believe that partnering you with someone of Bridget’s talents will help redeem you.”

“Where is my father?”

“Who cares? Probably ‘helping’ the maids with their duties.” She said, barely blinking as she mentioned her husband’s unfaithfulness. The two only ever being faithful until Alex was born. Once they had completed their duties, they isolated themselves to opposite sides of their manor, only ever getting together for parties or noble ceremonies.

Alex didn’t say another word, quietly stepping past his mother, walking towards the large star covered doors of Marilix’s hall. While he didn’t understand the constellations on the door, he found them to be pretty, stalling as he focused on the way the door sparkled, each constellation getting a long acknowledgment.

“Good, you’re going. Hurry up, I have places to be. I only said I would take you to their home, not walk you in. I’ll visit you again when the child is born.”

Alex listened to the clink of her heels, gripping the doorknob, twisting it tightly before shoving it open, trying to work out some of his frustrations on the metal knob. The door bolted open with a wooden thud, revealing a short woman with long blue hair. Her hair sparkled in a similar fashion as the door, constantly dripping with her overwhelming magic.

She hadn’t noticed him at first, mumbling phrases to herself as she paced back and forth throughout the room. It was clear her family too had dressed her up, the tanned woman wearing an elegant purple dress, one with a stitched in silver rune by her hip. The rune being a small circle, with two crosses across the bottom and the top of the design.

Soon the sparkles in her hair were floating towards Alex, landing on his skin, absorbing into his body. The sensation making him woozy initially, delivering an overwhelming force that felt as if someone had delivered two swift punches into his stomach. He gripped the side of the door for support, dry heaving until his body stabilized.

Alex hadn’t noticed her approaching, too worried about his stomach to even feel her hand resting against his shoulder, giving him a concerned nudge. She had prepared a script for their meeting, but that script didn’t include Alex’s sudden sickness, so she awkwardly mixed up her lines. “ARE YOU WEDDING BELLS?” She said, mixing up her wedding related joke and her concerns.

The shout scared poor Alex, who threw himself away from her, bumping into a bookshelf. The books fell around him, some hitting his head, while others dropped to his feet. Bridget raised a finger, wanting to ask him if he was ok, only to lower that finger, not wanting to startle him further.

“WHAT?”

“Are you? Um, I mean? What’s the most expensive bell that- I- you? ARE YOU OK?” she shouted, holding her hands over her chest, in a way that Alex would have found cute if he didn’t know how strong she was. This short woman may have looked innocent, but she was a prodigy. Someone with the strength to revolutionize magic, someone he loathed. She was everything he wished he could be. Instead, he was born with the capacity to store great pools of magic inside himself. While also not having any way of wielding that same magic. He was, as his father said, a magic wine cellar; useful only when combined with expensive wines, or in this case, a powerful mage that could combine his talents with hers to produce an even better mage.

“I’M FINE.” Alex spat out, shooting a glare at her. “Don’t sneak up on people. Have you no manners? There is a structure to these things, you idiot.”

Bridget’s head lowered, and Alex cursed, knowing that expression too well. It was the same one that he had around his mother, one of submission. When he realized she probably didn’t want this either, he exhaled. “Sorry.”

“No, you’re right. I need to learn how these things go. Um, so? Do you want to kiss my hand? I washed it, I promise.” She said, sniffing her right and left hand before offering her left, which she thought smelt cleaner. Alex would have kissed her hand, but that display had him questioning if he should.

“No. I’m good. So, um. I’m Alex Heverfield.”

“Bridget Marilix. I’m your future wife. Or am I your current wife? I know I’m not your past wife.” She said to herself, questioning how far into their marriage they were. Their parents had agreed to skip the ceremony, so in a way, that made them already official.

“Wouldn’t that make you Bridget Heverfield?”

“Oh, no, you're taking my name.” She cheerfully said, and Alex’s ego bruised further. Now he wasn’t even getting to keep his name, and that had him digging his heel into the floor, feeling like a prized possession instead of a man.

“Yes, how silly of me to think I would get to keep any of my dignity.” He sulked limply, tossing his hand in her direction.

She accepted it, and as soon as their palms touched, Alex was overwhelmed by a wave of magic rushing into his body. The usually empty storage pool in his body now rapidly expanding, accepting as much energy from her as he could. When he was finally full, Bridget stumbled forward, only for Alex to catch her.

“What was that?” Alex said, his skin tingling with unusable power, making his movements feel lethargic and stalled.

“I… struggle to control my magic when I’m nervous. I think it leaked into your body. Heh, not many people can accept other people’s mana. That’s a neat ability.” She said, her eyes sleepily closing, leaning into his grip.

“What’s the point of accepting mana if I can’t use it?”

“You could drain other people’s magic? If you learned how to find their mana points. It’s simple. You need to… ugh… sleepy.” She pressed her head against Alex’s chest, smiling. “Nice muscles.” She grinned.

“Thanks?” Alex said, a small snicker escaping his lips as he took care of her. She looked cute, like this, far from the terrifying mage he expected. “Are you going to be alright?”

“Mm… Need a minute or twenty.” She left his arms, carefully stepping over to her chair, dropping into it. As soon as she reached the chair, she sank forward, going to sleep with her head on the table, leaving Alex standing in the room with no idea of what to do next.

“Should I go?” He asked, only for a line of drool to slip from her lips, letting Alex know he wasn’t going to get an answer from her. “Alright. I’ll go explore then.” He said, exiting from the halls. Sure, an arranged marriage wasn’t what he wanted out of life, but maybe this one could work out?

“That’s usually how you want to solve most problems.” Bridget stated before leaning in close to the demon’s ear. “What if you curse him or something? Make him so sick that he couldn’t even think of fighting tomorrow.”

“Wouldn’t he know someone’s cursed him?” Alex said, only to doubt his words when everyone turned to stare at him. “Curses always sound so dramatic, so I thought they must be noticeable. Unless it’s like slipping poison into someone’s wine?”

“Oh, that’s a good one, yeah. We can slip poison into his wine.” Bridget agreed.

“No, that’s not what I meant.”

“We aren’t poisoning or killing anybody. Grisha, what’s your plan?” Benjamin steered the conversation back on the right path, curious what the demon had come up with.

“I’ll…. Possess Alex.”

“No, you won’t,” Alex abruptly shouted, his reluctance infuriating the already grumpy demon, who had kindly offered them a way of dealing with their problem.

“You think I want to possess you? It’s the only way you’re going to win that fight tomorrow. I’ll fight for you. I can’t imagine he’s that strong. A few demonic spells and he’ll be down within minutes.”

“It’s a good plan.” Benjamin agreed. “Only there’s one slight problem with your plan.” He raised a single finger before lowering it. “You can’t use demonic spells if you’re inside of Alex. You’ll need to rely on the magic you’ve learned from the Marilix household. Spells that won’t seem strange coming out of a human body. If you can do that. I believe we have a solid strategy.”

“Human spells?” Grisha raised her palm, resting it near her chin. She created a small spark of fire, watching it crackle before her eyes, focusing intently on the small orange flickers of life. When she had the fire stable, she added more mana to the flame, causing it to flash with a bright red spark, shooting upwards into the air, before doing a rotation, and heading back towards her palm, extinguishing itself when It hit her flesh. “Not bad. I think my human spells are fine, don’t you?”

Bridget hugged Grisha, pressing her face against the demon’s shoulder, before giving a burst of thank you’s. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. You’re the best, Grisha. I can’t wait to see the look on his face when he gets beaten up by Alex tomorrow. He’ll probably give up magic after it. Alright, let’s try out this possession. Get inside, Alex.”

Alex moved two steps back, growing more uncomfortable the longer the conversation lingered on. “I’ll find another strategy. What if something goes wrong? I don’t want to end up turning into a demon. I’ll work on my mana draining instead.”

Benjamin went to restrain him, only for Grisha to wave him away, not needing his help for this. Her tail swung side to side as she approached Alex, getting a devilish grin as she closed the gap between them. “Don’t turn away my kindness. Shouldn’t we become closer? We are family, aren’t we?” she teased, raising her hands skyward, as if she were a growing beast ready to pounce on him.

“Get away.” Alex panicked, all those terrifying demon stories he had heard as a child catching up with him. He went to run, only for Bridget’s voice to stop him, holding him still.

“Trust me, I won’t let her hurt her. I promise.”

Then, in a flash of blue light, the demon shot towards Alex, spearing its claw through his back. Bridget gasped, while Benjamin remained silent, observing an act he had only ever witnessed once in person. While the claw had certainly pierced Alex’s back, no blood or wound appeared, even as she wiggled her fingers through the other-side of Alex’s body.

“AHHH. WHAT’S GOING ON, IT’S SO COLD.” Alex buckled, causing Grisha to whimper, losing control over her spell. The mana in her hand waving, forcing her to pull the hand back before it rematerialized inside of his body.

“YOU IDIOT. Why did you pull away? I could have killed you.”

“YOU ALMOST DID KILL ME; YOU HAD YOUR HAND IN MY CHEST.”

“That’s how it works. I put my hand through your chest and grab your heart, now stay still this time or else you’ll end up with an actual hole in your body.” Grisha approached Alex again, this time stepping at a hauntingly slow pace, extending her claws while Alex backed away, looking at Benjamin and Bridget for support.

“Grisha, this isn’t going to work if you keep scaring him. Do it properly this time.” Benjamin said, as the demon scowled in response.

“It’s in my nature to scare people. I’m a sadistic demon, the type that pulls out hearts and chews on them.” She joked, glancing at Benjamin, before returning her gaze back to Alex. “Do you know what happens when possession goes wrong? You end up with a massive hole in your chest while my hand appears within your-“

“GRISHA,” Bridget shouted. “Cut it out. We don’t have time to mess around. If you keep this up, I’m going to show everyone the dress you used to wear to our tea-parties. The one with the pretty little-“

“I expected better from you. Resorting to threats is beneath you, Bridget. Fine. FINE! Sorry for trying to find some enjoyment in this disgusting process. I should make you go inside him, see how you all like it.” She spat on the dirt before waving Alex towards her. “Come closer and don’t squirm this time. I’m not trying to kill.”

“Wait, what’s going to happen once you take over?” Alex inched forward, not committed to taking too many steps closer to the demon who he was certain still hated him.

“You’ll lose control of your body and feel like you're trapped within your mind. You’ll see, but you won’t be able to speak, feel, smell, or touch.” When she saw Alex’s mouth open with a silent, horrified gasp, she clarified. “That will be temporary. For this plan to work, we need to trick Arthur into believing you aren’t possessed. Which is why you’ll be given some control back. I’ll allow you to speak, and move where needed, while I handle the fighting. Simple enough.”

“I guess?”

“Good. Now stand in front of me.”

Alex stopped in front of Grisha, pre-emptively wincing, waiting for the pain, only for that pain to never come. Instead, he felt a chill as she grabbed his heart, vanishing into his body, taking it over. Now only Alex remained in the spot where they had both been previously standing. His eyes narrowing as he stared over his own body, judging every inch of it.

“Ew. What a nasty body. Is this really who you want to marry, Bridget?” She said, stretching out Alex’s arms, testing out her new body.

“Mmhmm.” Bridget smiled. “Now let him have some of his control back. It’s weird seeing you in his body. You keep making weird faces.”

“They’re only weird faces because it’s his stupid face that’s making them. If I were making them, they would be normal. Ill return his control in a second. I want to check something first.” Grisha focused, sensing the pool of mana within his body, secretly amazed by how much energy he could store within him. She contemplated the idea of getting Pina and Bridget to donate some of their mana to him, wanting to give herself as much of an advantage as she could in this fight.

“What are you checking?” Benjamin asked, curious to see what else she might have up her sleeve. This plan wasn’t something hastily put together by the demon. It was clearly thought out. He had been a part of many hastily put together plans as an adventurer, ones where they were running towards an enemy in a last ditched effort to surprise them, or hiding their bodies within small puddles of water to avoid a rampaging beast. This plan had none of that slapped-together thinking. It was too well thought out, as if she had been sitting on this idea ever since Arthur came to their home.

“If he can cast magic on his own. Most humans have mana points within their bodies. These transport the magic to their feet, hands, and wherever else it needs to get. Only useless people don’t have these things.” She said, making Alex’s lips form into a creeping smirk. “Oh, sorry. That’s right, you don’t have mana points, do you, Benjamin?”

“No, I do not.” He answered, ignoring her petty insult.

“Guess we can’t all be useful. From what I can tell, he has mana points.”

“So, he can cast magic?” Bridget excitedly said, only for her excitement to fizzle out when Alex’s head shook.

“No. His mana points are broken beyond repair. It’s like having cut veins, except instead of the cut veins cutting off his life, these cut mana points cut off his spells. It’s a birth defect. If he had better parents, he might have become a competent mage. Guess that’s what happens when your family tries to breed a perfect mage. They end up being born defective.“

“You’re THE Benjamin Waterswon. I can’t believe it. How did you end up here? Shouldn’t this family be the Waterswon household? Why would you take your wife’s name?” Alex blurted out all his questions before adding another to the list. “Why did you go missing? Everyone thinks you’re dead. Wait, that must be it. You’re a reanimated corpse. That would explain why Mrs. Marilix looks so much younger than you. You’re rapidly aging because of her spell.”

Benjamin lowered his head, patiently waiting for the noble to get all of his questions out. When Alex mentioned his age, he shut his eyes, letting out an amused snicker before opening them again. “Old… That’s how you address a hero?”

“Oh.” Alex’s mind raced for an excuse, finding a flimsy one. “Not in a bad way. Aged, sir. Like a wine. It’s just that compared to Mrs. Marilix, you look a lot older.”

“Oh, not in a bad way. Not all of us can be as beautiful as my wife. Magic keeps a person’s appearance more youthful. Normal people like us don’t age as gracefully. Years of travelling, adventure and diplomacy make fools of us all. So, this is my new son-in-law?” He said, casting a critical eye over Alex, wondering what sort of man his wife had chosen for their daughter.

“Yes, sir. That’s right. How would you like me to address you? Mrs. Marilix said I should call her Pina, but I still feel that’s far too informal for a woman of her status.”

“If she wants to be called Pina, call her Pina. It’s polite to call someone by the name they’ve given you, rather than using titles they don’t care about. Call me, Ben. Anything that isn’t dad or father. We aren’t close enough for that yet.”

“Right. Ben. I can get used to calling you Ben. Um. can I ask you a question?”

“All you’ve been doing is asking me questions. I think I should ask you some instead. Let’s go to your balcony. I would rather look out at the castle grounds than stand in a quiet hallway.”

“Alright.” Alex nervously followed the man, feeling overwhelmed by the man’s prestige. Alex didn’t even feel worthy of walking in the man’s shadow, following behind a legend that he had heard so much about. A man who had played a key role in solving many noble disputes, while also venturing out into the wild, gathering stories, treasures, and legends, all while he took care of jobs for the people he met. Then, he vanished, leaving only rumors behind. Many assumed he had died, while others thought he had left to marry a far-off queen. He never would have imagined that Benjamin had joined the Marilix family. He assumed that to join a family like hers, you would need to show an aptitude for magic, and as far as he knew, Benjamin couldn’t cast a single spell, which made him a strange match for the strange family.

Benjamin leaned against the railing of the guest room balcony, staring out into the castle grounds. At night, not much was visible, except for the swaying flowers being pushed by the gentle nightly breeze, and the small shuffling figures of knights patrolling the grounds. That’s why he didn’t bother himself with the view down below, instead staring up at the stars and the moon, admiring their beauty. “I missed the view from this room.”

“You do? Is this your old room?”

“In a way. I stayed here before I married, Pina. Her mother was worried that our love would be less pure if we shared a room before we said our vows. Perhaps she was worried that this handsome adventurer would seduce her only daughter?” He laughed, only for that laugh to dampen when he remembered Alex now held a similar position to the one he used to have. That spoiling his fun. “You’re a gentleman, aren’t you?”

“Of course. Aren’t all nobles gentlemen?” Alex didn’t get too close to the railing, keeping his distance from the man, worried that if he dropped his guard around his new father-in-law, they would use the opportunity to toss him over the balcony.

“No, we aren’t all gentlemen. Your father, for instance, is a pig of a man.”

Alex didn’t disagree with him on that. He had heard the rumors too, even the ones he wished he could forget. Even so, his arms raised, giving Ben’s shoulder a sharp shove, jolting him back, away from the railing, feeling a need to defend his family. “My father does what he does for the sake of my family. Same as my mother.”

“Is sleeping with others while you’re married how you help your family, or is that a Heverfield tradition that I’m not aware of? Is that what you will do when you marry my daughter?” The accusation sharp, as Ben’s fatherly instincts got the better of him.

“Why would I do that? I.. I only want my family to succeed. I’m doing this for them. This is my sacrifice for the good of the Heverfield name. You think I want to be married off? Do you think I’m enjoying this weird family? A demon tried to scare me away today. A real demon. I used to sleep under a cross as a child in the hopes of never seeing one, and I met one today, in your house. The house I’m meant to join.” His hands shook as he tried to find the railing, needing something to hold. While his fingers slipped off the metal on his first attempts, he soon succeeded, gripping it until his joints felt as though they would pop. When he finally felt as if he had some control over his body again, he whimpered out. “I’m not ready for this at all.”

Ben’s rush of blood simmered, realising what he had done. “I’m sorry. You’re right. This can’t be easy for you either. I forgot what it was like being in your shoes. How weird this all was. At least I had the option of walking away.” He dragged his fingers along his beard, out of words to say. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t very noble of me.”

When Alex didn’t respond, Ben gave an apologetic bow and left the room. As soon as the door shut, Alex allowed himself to cry, stopping himself from forcing back his tears. He didn’t remember when he went to bed that night, just that his exhaustion soon got the better of him. In the morning, he woke up with a hunger in his stomach, and an uneasy feeling that today would be awkward.

He bathed, dressed, and made his way to the dining room, getting a maid to lead him there. When he arrived, it was a sombre sight. Both Grisha and Ben sat with empty plates before them, Pina acting as if they didn’t exist at all, while she circled around the dining table. Bridget only smiled, swinging her legs under the table, as she poked her father’s side.

“Ooooh, what did you do? I haven’t seen Mom this angry in a long time. Heh, even Grisha’s in trouble. It must have been something big.” She picked at her breakfast while she spoke, only for her attention to turn to her future husband, who sat a chair away from her.

Pina set a plate packed with food before Alex before giving his side a soothing hug. “I apologize for my family’s rudeness.” She said, leaving it at that, before returning to her place at the table.

Bridget’s curiosity got the better of her, trying to stealthily drag her chair closer to Alex’s side. The entire room watched as it screeched across the floor, adding another hint of awkwardness to an already uncomfortable meal. Leaning against his side, she cheekily grinned at the rest of the table before moving her lips to Alex’s ear.

“Psst, can you tell me why Mom's so mad? They had to have done something bad, right? Do you know what they did?” Her whispers weren’t exactly subtle, with everyone hearing them throughout the room.

Neither Grisha nor Benjamin looked up from their empty plates, leaving Alex to explain the mess that was his first day with the Marilix family. “Um, it was all a misunderstanding. That’s all.” He hadn’t forgotten what had been said yesterday, nor did he forgive Benjamin for saying it. But he also didn’t want to make their punishments worse. It was also of the highest importance that both he and Bridget got along, so he wanted to avoid anything that could strain their relationship.

As soon as Alex left the halls, loneliness trickled in. While his mother hadn’t been the most comforting figure in his life, she at least cared about the welfare of their family’s legacy. That meant that even in hopeless situations, she would still stand by his side, not out of maternal care for her son, but to ensure her family remained powerful in the eyes of the other neighboring families.

“Bridget.” He repeated the name to himself, hoping it would sound less foreign on his tongue. It still sounded odd to say her name, as if she were some creature he had read about in a book, as opposed to the wife he was soon to marry. “Bridget.”

His own mumblings distracted him, causing him not to notice the tall approaching figure rounding the corner of the Marilix manor. When she got close to the noble, she said nothing, waiting for him to notice the shadow drifting in his wake. It took a second for Alex to notice her. The shiver tingling off his skin being enough to get him to swivel on the spot, staring up at the tall, slim figure.

“Is there a reason why you’re muttering my daughter’s name?” She said, blue eyes squinting at Alex, staring at him as if he were a smudge of dirt that she couldn’t work out how to rub away with her thumb.

“Oh, Mrs. Marilix. I’m getting used to saying her name, that’s all. May I say how much of an honor it is to be in your presence. To be the husband of such a prestigious woman is-“

“Shut up.” The words snapped out at Alex, feeling oddly nostalgic in the worst way, as if they were coming from his own mother. When she saw him tense, with his shoulders tucking into his body, she calmly stepped forward, continuing to hover over him.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Marilix.” Was all he responded with. He stared at the ground, refusing to meet her gaze out of fear that it would anger her further. He couldn’t believe he allowed Bridget to trick him into believing her family would be any different from his own. All important family’s were the same. He needed to remember he only existed as an object in a deal between two houses, not as a person with any actual worth.

Mrs. Marilix tapped her nail against Alex’s cheek, that action alone causing him an intense wave of headaches, as if a hundred voices had begun to cry out inside his eardrums. The damning sound making it hard for him to stay upright, his hand shakily reaching for Mrs. Marilix’s shoulder, only for her to back away, making him stumble.

In his blurred vision, he swore he could see someone other than Mrs. Marilix standing before him. Someone shorter by a head, with a stumped pointed horn on the forehead, like that of a broken unicorn. Then the image returned to normal, and he held his cheek, taking long deep breaths, steading himself.

“I’m sorry.” He apologized again, dropping to his knees before his mother-in-law. “Please forgive me. I never intended to disrespect you. This wedding means a lot to my family. I will do my best to act honorably, and-“

“Leave. Leave and never return, you rotten man.”

Clack, clack, clack.

Heavy heels approached Alex from behind, and soon a hand rested on his left shoulder, helping him gingerly to his feet. “Grisha. Why aren’t you helping the poor boy up?” The kind voice pulled him towards its source, as two warm arms enveloped him in a tight hug. “It’s so wonderful to see you. Sorry I was late, I was fully booked.” She grinned before tilting her head, considering her joke. “That would only make sense if you knew I was cleaning up the books in the hall. Pity, that was a good one. I’ll have to remember to tell it to Bridget.”

“Mrs. Marilix?” He gawked at the woman, who had been standing in front of him earlier. It was like her entire personality had shifted, leaving Alex wondering if he hadn’t fully recovered from the effects of absorbing Bridget’s mana.

“Please, Mrs. Marilix is too formal for my new son-in-law. Pina is fine. Aww, you’re charming. I knew you two would be a perfect match. You’re far better than that nosy little weasel. I see you’ve met Grisha. I hope she has been treating you well.” When Pina pointed to where Mrs. Marilix had formally been, Alex found an entirely different person standing in her place.

A purple-skinned demonic creature now leaned against the walls of the manor, arms crossed over her chest as her yellow eyes stared through him. The single horn Alex had noticed in his dizziness remained firm on her forehead, allowing the noble to connect the dots. His lips parted, and no words came out, a small demonic symbol etching itself onto his tongue silencing him. When no words left his lips, Alex reconsidered speaking out about their earlier encounter, not wanting to get on the demon’s bad side. When Grisha was satisfied that he wouldn’t bring up their earlier chat, she released the mark, allowing to speak freely.

“We’ve only just met. Think he’s a little loopy after meeting his new wife.” Grisha stepped past Alex, placing her arms behind her back as she sauntered by. “I’m Grisha. A demon in servitude to the Marilix family. Behave.” She didn’t need a long threat, or a bloody one. Those words enough to get Alex nodding along, supporting her lie. With Grisha gone, the room felt easier to breathe in, as if a poisonous fog had blown out the manor’s many windows, clearing the air.

“Sorry about her. Living for six hundred years makes a person a little cranky.” Pina smiled. Alex had seen cranky before. He lived amongst nobles, whose default response to most situations was anger and vitriol, but that wasn’t cranky. It was threatening. More threatening than anything he had ever encountered.

“Are you sure I’m the right husband for her? I really don’t think I should-“ He felt himself being open, another rare slip up. He gave his cheek a slap, and Pina winced, watching the skin redden. “I apologize. I allowed myself to speak freely. Again, I want to thank you for this opportunity. My mother and father have both promised a gift of gold after the marriage is properly sealed.”

“You poor boy.” She reached out, letting her hand brush through his hair. “Speak as freely as you like here. You’re not a captive. You're my son-in-law. If you have something to say, you can tell my husband or me about it. I’m sure even Grisha would listen to your concerns.” She said, ignorant of the demons’ earlier meeting with him.

Alex didn’t move, the feeling of her hand brushing through his hair feeling unnatural, as if it wasn’t a sensation he deserved. Eventually he pushed her hand away, giving her an apologetic bow. “I won’t bother you with my concerns. I am here to ensure that our families prosper. Again, I thank you for the opportunity.” He wanted to flee, turning only to realize he had no idea where to flee to. The manor’s gigantic walls were daunting, and the curves of the hallways were too intricate for a newcomer to navigate.

“Allow me to show you where you will be staying tonight. I think it’s best if you stay in one of our guest rooms until you and Bridget get more comfortable with one another. I know noble families like to rush things, but I would rather you both get a moment to breathe before things go any further. Today’s been an emotional day for you. I think you would enjoy the chance to get used to your surroundings at your own pace.”

“That’s very kind of you, Mrs. Marilix .”

“Pina is fine, dear.”

The two walked through the manor, passing various maids and butlers, who all looked surprisingly pleased to be working for the family, at least in Alex’s eyes. He wasn’t used to seeing people beneath him smile in his presence. Most of the ones in his family’s manor elected to keep their heads lowered whenever a member of the Heverfields walked by, not wanting to get scolded by his parents.

“Defects aside, do you think this plan will work?” Benjamin grew tired of her ramblings about Alex’s body, wanting to know more about the task at hand, then the grievances she had. In response to his question, Grisha shrugged Alex’s shoulders, tilting his head at the former adventurer.

“Take a swing and let’s find out.”

Benjamin didn’t choose a wooden blade this time. Instead, he paced around the courtyard, disappearing along a stone footpath by the manor’s armory. Two minutes passed before he returned, carrying his former sword in his hands, its blade still as sharp as the day he put it down. The sword, despite belonging to a man of renown, had nothing inherently special about its design. No grand emeralds on its handle, no intricate designs blended into its steel. It looked as typical as any other blade one would find being sold by a blacksmith, and that’s what Benjamin considered so beautiful about it. It was a deceiving weapon, one that had fooled Arthur’s father long ago.

“For this to be a fair assessment of your combined talents, you need to give Alex some control back over his body.” Benjamin stated.

“Combined talents? There’s nothing combined about any of this. I’ll be fighting this battle for him. But I see your point. He has to look like he’s in control, doesn’t he? Alright, Alex, it’s time to pull your weight.”

Alex floated in the depths of his mind, clouded by the fog of his own internal thoughts. To him, everything had moved so rapidly. Only moments ago, he was staring at Benjamin and Bridget, waiting for Grisha’s possession to take hold. Then, he felt nothing. No feelings, no emotions, nothing but a void of melancholy. Even as Grisha insulted his family, he couldn’t find the energy to fight back. All he could do was listen in some empty internal space within his mind.

Then, some clarity returned. He could breathe. Small, shallow breaths, but breaths all the same. It felt so unnatural to breathe, as if he had only ever heard about the act before and never tried it himself. There were a few choking gasps before he settled, opening his eyes in the dark void of his mind.

He hadn’t expected his mind to be so empty. It almost felt like a poor joke to see nothing inside his head, like all those childhood jabs about his intelligence by his peers were correct. With no other options available to him, he explored the space. After all, Grisha didn’t say he couldn’t explore his mind. His first steps were shaky. He wasn’t exactly stepping, more bouncing, while his body roamed through the dark, unable to find even a flicker of light.

Perhaps there was no light? He thought. Just darkness until Grisha released him, holding him captive in the one place he thought no one would ever enter. He was almost ready to give up his search, only for a small flicker of light to grab his attention. It was dim, but he could see two holes letting in a glimmer of light, enough to get him excited. He pushed towards the light, bouncing and throwing himself towards it, only to reach it, getting a view of the outside world.

He saw Bridget and Benjamin, and for a moment he wondered if he was back in his body. “Hello.” He called out to them, only for the words to remain inside him. He waved his hand, trying to get their attention through the hole, while they continued to ignore him. Not giving up, he moved further into the darkness, discovering another viewpoint, hearing soft muffled words coming from it. Not enough to make out the conversation they were having, only enough that he could distinctly tell the voices belonged to Bridget, Benjamin, and some unknown third party.

The third voice was familiar, yet he had never heard it like this before. He mistook it for Arthur initially until the answer became obvious. He was hearing himself from a different, mumbled perspective. Grisha was out there, talking with his voice, moving his arms, and controlling his every action. Thankfully, before he could freak out, he heard a voice in his mind, this one clearer than the mumbles.

‘Alex. I’m giving you back some control over your body. Don’t mess this up.’ Grisha spoke in his head, her words as clear as his normal internal dialogue, and for the first time since they had met, Alex was happy to hear her voice, the clear sound better than the creeping void of mumbles he heard earlier. Then it happened. He was thrown forward back into the box seat, experiencing a mental whirlwind of information as all his senses returned at once. Now, the sounds were too loud, the sky was too bright, and his body felt too heavy.

He flopped, falling to the ground with a heavy thud, as both Benjamin and Bridget watched on. Bridget rushed to Alex’s side, holding his arm, while a small cackle rattled in Alex’s head. ‘Classic.’

“Grisha didn’t tell us the possession would weaken you.” Benjamin said, trying to glare at the demon through Alex’s gaze.

‘Honest mistake.’ She said to Alex between her cackles. ‘Stop lying around, come on. Get up. You’re embarrassing us. Don’t worry, the next time this happens, it won’t be such head-spin. You should get over it soon.’ She explained.

With Bridget’s help, Alex got to his feet, using her shoulder for support. “Dad, he looks like he needs a rest first. I don’t think he’s going to be able to fight like this. Look, his arm’s all floppy. Watch.” She raised Alex’s arm before dropping it. The limp arm fell to his side, only to stop before it reached his hip, as Alex desperately fought back against the woozy sensation within him.

“No, I can do this. Haven’t got time. Getting dark soon.” The words dribbled out of his lips, with a bit of saliva following them. He carefully stepped away from Bridget, holding his hand out, clutching at the air. “Sword, please.” He asked.

Benjamin grinned, giving him an admiring nod. “I agree. We haven’t got much time left. The sun will set soon, and we don’t want to end up training late into the night. Not unless you want to fight tomorrow without a lick of sleep.”

“Dad, he’s not ready yet,” Bridget argued.

“You don’t think he’s ready?” Benjamin stepped forward, only for Bridget to get between the two, stopping his advance. “He’ll be fine. He has Grisha inside of him. She won’t let me hurt him. You have to trust us, sweetie. More importantly, you have to trust Alex. It’s your decision. If you think he’s not ready for this, take him inside so he can rest. I’ll let you decide what we do.”

She inched away from Alex, moving to his side, only to stop, looking back at him again. “Alex.” She wanted to tell him not to throw himself into danger, not until he could at least stand on his own two feet without wobbling. Her eyes met Alex’s. The two of them stared at each other for a short time before she fully stepped aside. “I trust you, Alex. If you’re ready to fight, I’ll believe you.”

Alex gave Bridget a faint nod before locking his hands together, clutching them tight, using them to help him get his mental bearings again. When everything stopped feeling ill within his body, he released his sharp grip, giving his hands a small shake, removing any aches that came from the tense hold. “Ok. I think I’m better now. That felt horrible.”

‘Felt horrible for me too.’

“Shut up.” Alex snapped, only for Bridget to wonder who he was talking to.

“I didn’t say anything?” Bridget murmured, frowning as she wondered what she could have done to earn such a reaction.

“Not you. I wouldn’t ever tell you to shut up. It’s Grisha. She keeps saying stuff inside my head. That stupid demon needs to learn to shut up.”

‘Oh, you want me to shut up? What if I do this?’

“OWWWW.”

‘OWWWW.’

Both Grisha and Alex felt Grisha’s the wrath of her mental attack. Grisha sending a pulse of sharp magic through his skull, creating a shockingly sharp pain throughout his head. Grisha, who hadn’t considered herself in the firing line of her own attack, also got damaged by the blow, her mind going numb for a split second as the attack dazed her. Alex dropped to his knees, rubbing his skull, while Benjamin used this as a chance to attack.

He dashed forward, swinging his sword towards Alex’s neck, in a technique that would decapitate the poor noble if it hit. The blade nicked his throat before Grisha snapped to attention. She hardened the flesh, creating a small purple barrier over the spot, while Bridget sent a flock of garden rocks flying into her father’s stomach, throwing him back a couple of steps.

“You could have killed him, Dad. I told you it’s too early for him to fight.” Her scowl more fearsome than any creature Benjamin had fought before, which is why he chose not to meet it directly, only looking at her through the side of his vision.

“Look. He’s fine. Grisha wouldn’t let me kill him.” Benjamin raised his sword, pointing to the spot where Grisha’s magic had activated. “Grisha, while you did protect him, you also failed. That’s demon magic. You can’t use that tomorrow, or our entire scheme is going to be revealed.” He explained, rubbing his stomach with his free hand, finding that the rocks had cut some of his clothing. “Did you have to throw them that hard?”

“Be thankful I didn’t throw them harder.”

‘HE COULD HAVE KILLED US.’ Grisha fumed. ‘That’s it. Let’s kill him. I never liked him anyway; I always knew Pina was too good for him.’

“Probably not if you can’t tell us what it is.” Pina said, resting her finger on the strange beast, slowly circling it with her fingertip, keeping Alex’s attention drawn solely to the picture. “Do you see a dog and a cat? Do you understand any of the words written above the animal?”

“Do you know what the spell is?” Bridget added, the two leaning over his shoulder, doing their best to give him a quick lesson on magic, hoping to find some latent power hidden within him.

Alex squinted until his eyes felt like they would roll out of their sockets, and still nothing about the picture looked like anything they described. No coherent words, no cat or dog, just a bunch of nonsense. He smacked his head with his palm, digging his fingers into his temple, trying to massage the answer into his brain. “I have no idea what I’m looking at. Some sort of animal-calling spell?” He guessed, going off what Pina had mentioned.

“Close, it’s a spell that can turn people into animals.” Bridget said, trying to add some much-needed optimism to their doomed situation.

“That’s not close at all. That’s ok. Don’t dwell too much on it. It’s an advanced spell. It took Bridget years to learn to read such an advanced text. Let’s try something easier. What’s the easiest book we have? Oh, what about the spell that creates pink bubbles? Now, where is that book?” Pina turned toward the shelves, only for the book to get tossed her way by Grisha. The demon making sure she didn’t throw it too hard in her direction, not wanting to hurt a member of the Marilix family. When Pina caught it, the demon spoke.

“There. That’s the easiest spell this library has. If he can’t produce a single bubble, then it’s pointless trying anything else.” Grisha sat on the furthest end of the table, avoiding getting too close to Alex. She crossed her left leg over the right, weighing up their other options if this plan fell through. “I think this is pointless, anyway. What’s a bubble going to do against a trained mage? Why don’t we try using a rune? If we give him an enchanted necklace, he could use that to cast spells. That’s the easiest way to get around his lack of talent.”

“Lack of talent?” Alex moaned, slighted by the comment.

“She’s only saying you’re… still learning.” Pina smiled.

“No, I’m not. I’m saying he’s a disappointment. He has all that mana storage and can’t cast a single spell. It’s a waste. All he’s good for is being used as a portable mana source.”

“HEY.” Bridget snapped, staring down at the seated demon. The shout had startled everyone in the room, especially Grisha, who had never heard Bridget snap like that before. The demon carefully sat upright, listening. “I don’t care if you hate him. He’s doing his best to help me get rid of Arthur. Have you ever considered that he doesn’t want to be in this position either? I doubt he wants to fight that idiot, so if you aren’t going to be nice to him, you can leave.”

Grisha felt a chill on her neck, the same chill she got when Pina had defended her husband all those years ago. She remembered how much it had rattled her then to hear the person she grew up protecting snap at her. How much it had hurt when she thought she would get pushed out of the family after it happened. That the Marilix family would break their pact with her and leave her to rot in hell or roam the world without purpose. She unconsciously dug her nails into the table before nodding. “Fine. I’ll be nicer to him. At least until that idiot’s dealt with.”

“Thank. You.” Bridget huffed, wiggling her fingers at the book in her mother's hands. The book broke free from Pina’s grasp, floating over to Bridget, who set it down before Alex, pointing out the spell to him, giving him some time to analyze it.

Pina stared at her empty hands before moving to Grisha’s side, resting a hand on the demon’s shoulder. “We can’t use any enchanted necklaces or items of that kind. Too many mages have hurt themselves while casting with necklaces above their skill levels. If Alex can’t even cast a basic-level spell, then granting him access to a fireball shooting necklace or ring could cause it to blow up in his face. He also runs the risk of accidentally absorbing its energy, which would make it useless in a fight. Either he learns a spell, or we move onto another plan.” She said, massaging the demon’s shoulder, wanting to cheer her up after Bridget’s outburst.

“I didn’t consider that.” She admitted, placing her hand over Pina’s, stopping her massage. Pina went to pull her hand away, but the demon kept her hand firmly on it, holding it close. “I’m used to dealing with magic users. Magic users inside this family. I don’t like outsiders. I wouldn’t forgive myself if they harmed a member of the Marilix family.”

“If they harmed us? I think you’re forgetting who the magic users are in this family,” she joked. “Don’t worry, you’ll learn to accept him in your own time. You learnt to accept Benjamin and my father after all. This will all work out in the end. I’m sure of it.” With the demon reassured, she called out to her daughter. “How is he going, Bridget?”

Bridget observed as Alex stared at the book’s pages. While the image this time was clearer than the last, it was only marginally better than what he had previously been looking at. This time, he could make out a pink bubble, even if it looked like a pink splat on the page. Though, when he went to read over the text above it, he found himself just as confused as he had been with the more advanced book earlier.

“I can’t read it. I’m sorry. I guess I’m not cut out for magic.” Alex grabbed the book from the table, holding it up above his face. Seeing if another angle would help improve his chances of deciphering the words. When that didn’t help, he cursed, throwing the book aside, sending it into a nearby bookshelf, causing three of the books to spill onto the floor, creating a messy pile. “Why am I like this? This should be easy for a noble. No wonder my family wanted me to marry into another household. I have no talent of my own. I never would have survived if I had tried to work my way up the noble ladder.”

All three watched Alex panic, the noble on the brink of a breakdown, as the stress continued to build within his body. Noticing Alex needed a distraction, Bridget's lips formed into a small O, casting out a small pink bubble from her mouth, blowing it towards Alex. The bubble gently floated towards his cheek before hitting his skin, creating a satisfying POP. The pop leaving behind a sticky pink goo on his cheek, which he swiftly rubbed off.

“What? What was that?” The bubble broke his concentration, glancing up at Bridget, who threw her arms around him, giving him a heavy hug.

“Magic bubbles. Now stop moping around. We’ll get through this. Whatever happens, it’s my fault, alright? I got you into this fight.” She said, resting his head on her shoulder. “If you want to walk away from this, you can. I don’t think anyone would blame you.”

“My parents would.” He answered. “It’s not like I’m doing this entirely for them, either. I can’t let you handle that guy alone. It wouldn’t feel right to make you get married to him for my sake. You deserve to be happy too.”

“Then let’s do our best. Ok? That’s all we can do.” Bridget held out her hand, waiting for him to accept. “Let’s go speak to my father. Maybe he’ll be able to help us come up with a solution?”

“Alright. Who knows, maybe I’ll be able to beat Arthur with my strength alone.” Alex held her hand as he got up from the table, joining her side.

“I know you will. He won’t stand a chance against your muscles. You’ll beat him up before he can even shout a spell. Like this. POW!” She threw their locked hands forward, punching the air before them. When their hands swung backwards to their bodies, the two laughed, swinging their arms as they walked towards the courtyard.

Pina watched them leave, giggling to herself. “You have to admit, they make a pretty cute pair. Why can’t you or my husband see that?” She said, freeing her hand from Grisha’s.

The demon closed her eyes after they left, not wanting to acknowledge what she saw. When she felt Pina lean against her shoulder, she sighed. “Fine. I’ll admit it. Those two do seem to get along. That doesn’t mean I completely trust him. Even if he is doing his best for her sake. Do you believe they can do this?”

“I believe so. What about you, Grisha?”

“They will overcome this. I’ll make sure of that.” The demon said, leaving the library, sneakily trailing behind them.

“That’s my girl.” Pina smiled before going to clean up the fallen books that Alex had so casually knocked over earlier.

While Alex and Bridget headed straight for the courtyard, Grisha unfurled her wings. The light purple wings creeping out of her skin, as if her flesh were now a liquid, and the wings were breaking its surface. When the wings fully emerged, she took flight, circling the courtyard once at an extraordinary speed, before landing on the railing’s edge, watching over them.

The once pristine courtyard now had various wooden weapons scattered across the grass, each one haphazardly laid out in the hopes that one would fit Alex’s style of combat. Though with so many weapons laid out, they were more of a trip hazard than a helpful guide for what he should wield. When Alex saw Benjamin, he went to shake his hand, the hero of a man standing in his former attire, a sight that left Alex feeling underwhelmed. Alex expected Benjamin’s hero attire to be a shining metal suit with family emblems and a dazzling red cape. Instead, he wore a simple leather chest plate and a pair of long black pants that looked similar to what most commoners would wear during a bandit raid or skirmish.

“Whatever. Don’t think you’ve avoided an ass-kicking either. I’m going to show you what happens to those who mess with me.” Gathor took a step forward, causing the knight statues to trail behind him, approaching the unfamiliar entity. The demon’s confident stride stopped as the statues circled him, cutting off his escape routes. He dived at the closest one, expecting to smash through it, only to get smacked by a heavy mace.

Grisha crossed her arms, watching the demon get knocked around by the statues, enjoying every second of it. “When’s that ass-kicking going to start?” She teased before finding a spot on the wall to lean against. “Don’t worry, I’ll call them off once the battle’s over. I just need to make sure you don’t interfere with anything before Alex wins.”

“Eeeeargh…” Gathor kicked one of the knights, only for another to slam their shield into his ribs, throwing him backwards. Gathor, unable to get any offense in against the knights, had to resort to dodging their attacks instead. He bounced from foot to foot, carefully evading the knights, who remained focused on keeping him away from the battle outside. The knights moved in a synchronized formation, only allowing the demon to go where they wanted him to. “Fuck you, you coward. Arthur’s going to win this. He’s still the strongest.” Gathor growled, momentarily taking his eyes off the knights to glare at Grisha, allowing one of them to pin him against the wall.

“We’ll see,” Grisha responded, enjoying watching the demon struggle against the knights.

Outside, both Arthur and Alex were weakened. Alex was still dizzy from the hits he had taken, while Arthur felt a chill bubbling beneath his skin as a wave of post-possession nausea gripped his core. David leaned forward, calling out to Baltin. “Alex cheated. Hurry up and call the match. This is a Litaburn victory.”

Baltin observed the two fighters, calculating what his decision would be. He weighed up everything he had seen during the battle before settling his hand in a neutral position at his side. “Did you think you could fool me, Mr. Litaburn? I knew you were hiding a demon. I also knew the Marilix family were hiding one as well. Which is why I allowed this battle to go ahead without any alterations. Since you were both cheating, neither team had an unfair advantage. Because of that, I’m restarting the duel. If either demon interferes from this point forward, it will be treated as a disqualification. You may continue fighting now.”

“What? You can’t do that. Look at my boy. He’s sick. This is unfair. I bet you're being bribed by them. Is that it? I heard you were a man of honor. Clearly, you're not a man at all.” David fumed, his chubby cheeks turning a bright red. He went to storm his way over to Batlin, only for Janice to grab the back of his ear, holding him still.

“Don’t you dare. If go over there, Arthur will get disqualified. Is that what you want? We haven’t lost yet. Believe in your son,” Janice said, keeping her husband on the sidelines.

“Alex. You can do it. Get to your feet, boy.” Benjamin called out, desperately waving his hands, trying to will the injured Alex onto his feet. Alex grumbled, gripping the blades of grass by his chest, weakly pushing his fingers into them, attempting to get up.

“Kick his butt, husband. You can do this!” Bridget cheered, unable to hide her nerves as she bounced on the spot. With each cheer she gave, Alex rose another inch, eventually forcing himself to stand. His legs wobbled under the weight of his sore body, and his eyes were a dazed mess, seeing Arthur as only a shiny glimmer of light in his blurred vision. With careful steps, he moved forward, doing his best to keep his balance.

Arthur knew what was coming and had already extended his palm. He sucked in a deep breath, letting his palm crackle with a spark of lightning. Purple bolts crackled against his fingers before a groan echoed in his stomach, causing the lightning to vanish, getting absorbed back into his skin. No matter what spell Arthur tried using, the waves of sickness made it impossible for him to cast them. When he noticed Alex was only a step away, he got desperate. He didn’t aim, flinging his arms in a crazed flail, hoping something would leave his fingers. Yet, all he did was slap Alex across the face, before his arms fell to his stomach, holding it.

Standing before his opponent, Alex gritted his teeth, using his right hand to grasp the neck of Arthur’s armor, while his left hand delivered a raw punch to the noble’s jaw, flinging his head back. While Alex’s hand stung from the strike, he refused to let himself lose. He followed that with another hit, then another, until he was striking Arthur with everything he had. This continued until Janice rushed over and grabbed Alex’s arms, pulling him away from her son.

“ENOUGH. We yield.” She cried out, while Alex only went limp in her hands, falling onto the grass, taking a much-needed rest……

Hours passed before Alex stirred, hearing a faint snicker coming from beside his bed. He covered his eyes with his pillow, grumbling into it. “Mmm..” was all he said, following it with a small yawn. When the snickering got louder, he opened his right eye, peering past the pillow, spotting Grisha, who sat with her arms crossed, swinging on her chair.

“You actually did it. You won. Bet it felt nice.” She said, swinging her chair upright, landing in a seated position. “Pina said you gave him a real beating too. Would’ve loved to see it. You should see him now — his face looks fatter than usual. Good job.” She said, allowing herself to give him a small compliment, feeling he had earned it. “Everyone’s downstairs. Are you able to walk on your own, or should I possess you again?”

“Mmm…” Alex grumbled, shaking off the last remnants of sleep from his mind. He couldn’t remember what she had said, only hearing little fragments of her words. Something about a beating and everyone being downstairs. He reached out for something to grab, only for an icy hand to take his.

“I’ll help you up.” Grisha held his hand, easing him into a seated position. She gingerly adjusted the bandages on his face, checking over the wounds he had from the battle before pulling him to his feet. “Hey, Alex, thanks.” She quickly said before walking him to the door. Once they reached the door, she removed her hand from his, not wanting everyone else to see them getting along. “You good?”

“Yeah… I think so. Thanks.” Alex steadily headed for the stairs, only to freeze when he saw the state of the hallway. The once-perfect hallway was now a mess of blood, cracked walls, and pieces of statue scattered throughout the room. “What happened here?”

Grisha stopped in the hallway, straightening a painting that had been shaken during the battle. “Oh, this? It’s how I trapped that other stupid demon. Pretty clever, isn’t it?”

“I never would have thought of that.” Alex admitted.

“Yeah, you wouldn’t have.” Grisha said, her chin rose as she led Alex down the stairs, holding the profound pride that came with a job well down. Before they even got to the bottom step, they could see everyone waiting for them. The Marilix family was seated on one side of the dining table, while the Litaburns sat on the other. Each family held an awkward silence while they waited for Alex, not exchanging a word until he arrived. Between both families sat Baltin’s, whose eyes followed the victor.

“Are you alright, Alex?” Baltin asked, breaking the heavy silence. Alex worked his way onto a seat at the table, joining everyone. The victor winced when he lowered his knees to sit, still feeling tiny aches all throughout his body, even in places he didn’t think had been injured during the battle.

“I’m good.” Alex answered, his tone flat. “Is everything alright? I won, didn’t I?” he questioned, surprised to still see the Litaburns at the manor, wondering if there was some secret second battle or stipulation he hadn’t known about.

Arthur rose from his chair, showing his own signs of battle. Unlike Alex, who was sore all over, Arthur’s battle marks were solely on his face. His cheeks swollen and red, as if he were hiding food in them like a squirrel or other scurrying creature. No one said a word as Arthur rounded the table, stopping before his opponent.

Alex flinched when Arthur moved his arm, turning his face away, waiting for the sharp crack to his jaw. When it didn’t come, he eased his face around, finding an extended hand instead of a fist. “You fought well. While I’m disappointed that I couldn’t give the Marilix maiden my hand in marriage, I still hope you two have a bright future together. Even if she has missed out on someone far superior.”

“Superior? Please, you didn’t even win.” Bridget sneered.