What Happened in Edmonton

[The Young Pyromancer]

Blank smiled.

 

Then they spun in their swivel chair.

They liked swivel chairs.

Edited October 28, 2018 by The Young Pyromancer

[the winter system]

The light around them returned, slowly at first, but then it returned completely and suddenly. As if what would’ve been a gentle fade had been cut short by the OP’s interference. 

Dangit, Kokichi thought, without letting any emotion beyond amusement onto their face, as they read the latest message. Beyond their intimidation abilities, they weren’t actually that strong offensively. Their defense was usually borderline impenetrable but if the OP figured out how to spook them good... 

Kokichi pushes those thoughts aside. Analysisis was for people who didn’t know how to bluff their way out of almost every single situation under the sun. Like, there was a reason they hadn’t gone to Newcago? Cause they couldn’t bluff their way out in the dark very easily? Hah? It was funny. 

”Or what?” they asked, casually cracking their fingers as little onomodepia appeared around them. Some people seemed to have trouble doing that more than once in a short period of time, but some people weren’t Kokichi, duh. There was only one of them. (Thank goodness. They didn’t think they could handle any more of themself, yikes.) 

Then the car blew up. Kokichi pivoted to look at it, about to go all rage mode and show off ‘actually kind of funny but only if you’re on their side’ demon face, but they quickly denied responsibility in the matter. Under most circumstances, they wouldn’t believe the Epic. But, like, Kokichi couldn’t see why they’d want the blow it up if they were just going to lie about it. So they probably didn’t.

“If that wasn’t you,” they said, casually not looking at the dust cloud that had barely dented the metal thanks to their powers and it probably being a tough car. “Who was it?”
 

Red was bored. The fight was close by, but it wasn’t like she could get a good view on who the winner would be from her spot with her face in the dirt. She could be patient, if she wanted to be, so she waited. But she didn’t appreciate it one bit. Sigh.

A spike of absolute terror shot through the heartbeat of two souls in the city, distinct in their location yet completely conjoined by the precise variation in emotion and time. The cause could’ve originated from a person standing next to the first, who’s previously erratic beat solidified into cool and almost scary confidence. How had they made Red uneasy with only a shift in heartbeat? That was worth checking out, once she’d found her bearings with a good master.

Then the darkness came. It was sudden, not even taking a moment to spread. Red already didn’t have much of a field of vision, given the way her face was ground into the dirt, but the remnants of her peripheral vanished into pure blacks She didn’t have any sort of feeling in her tendrils of blood, meaning her hands and face were all she could touch with in the dark.

Was this an introduction from one of the Epics in charge of the city? A show of power? Perhaps not— the acceleration of heartbeats indicating unease ripples across both the pathetic maples who intended to guard her, and as much of the city she could feel. It was too well timed with the emotionally shift she’d overheard. This could be the cause of the fear, or it could be a consequence. 

 

Whatever the cause, she didn’t have much time to consider it when a speeding Epic’s beat shifted rapidly in location, directly towards Red. An unhinged grin spread across her face. Quick Epics could be powerful indeed, and the amusedly arrogant yet cautious rhythms Red picked up as they noticed what had to be her submissive body seemed to be a good sign. 

They honed in on her specific location rapidly, reaching for her. Their hand closed around the collar of her jacket and shirt, with an iron strong grip. His fingers felt callused, indicating a history experiencing hard work, and the strength it took to carry her like he did was a good sign. Yes, they were a he, it was easy to tell from the angle of his attack and the sound made by the faintest movement of his body. His touch sent traces of electricity through her, piquing her curiosity and interest. This could do. It could do indeed.

He dragged her with more than an insignificant amount of strength, but he didn’t need worry about any sort of resistance. Red’s fascination grew with every rough tumble, growing into the beginnings of a romantic obsession as she spilled onto the ground. 

“Not to worry, chérie, I’ll be with you shortly.” The way he rolled his letters was handsome, in a sort of condescending bad boy style. Chérie sounded French, which as any self respecting parasitic lover knew, was the language of romance. Red didn’t know what the word meant specifically, but it seemed close to cherry. A term of endearment. She liked the way it tasted: Sugar sweet. 

After a handful of minutes, which she used to run tendrils of blood through her hair to brush it, he returned. As he arrived, traces of light spilled into her eyes. His shadow was tall and broad, muscles rippling through his outfit. Red licked her lips in anticipation. Maybe he couldn’t replace Nighthound, but he certainly looked like fun. 

“Now it’s your turn. Who the hell are you?” 

"Whoever you want me to be, master," she replied, her voice as sweet as could be. She pulled a marble out of her pocket with her mind, a demonstration of her abilities. "My name's Red."

Edited October 3, 2018 by winter devotion

[The Swan Dragon]

"Here's the list of recipients, Ethan," Joel snapped. "Get those invitations delivered ASAP. Use the developing speed lanes."

"Yessir!" the grunt replied, already spinning on his heel at a run.

"Ironwood?"

The sharply dressed man grimaced--it was faint, but not fully hidden. "Aye, boss. First platoon is ready to move to secure the meeting area, and second platoon has already dispersed to cover the perimeter while we're away. Seventh squad will return and fill in gaps in security once they're done delivering."

"Is something wrong, Richard?" Phyto queried.

"I'm still not comfortable with Seventh being on their own, especially with a new Sergeant. Ethan is good, but..."

"He'll be fine. He's proved himself quite fine on other missions." Phyto shrugged. "Let's get moving."

*About 30 minutes later, regular time. Arrival at Commonwealth Stadium*

"Second, third, and fourth squads, start sweeping the area. Second, you've got Southwest. Third, North. Fourth, Southeast. First squad, you're with me."

They replied with a round of "yessir's," almost in sync, followed by a much more polished salute.

"Remember! Epoch has included in his message a guarantee that he will not cause anyone harm here--that means, by extension, that no one is hurting anyone at this meeting. Priority One is protect Epoch; Two is keep the peace; Three is keep unwanted rabble out."

"Here's the list of recipients, Ethan," Phytomagnet snapped, and "Ethan" groaned inwardly. "Get those invitations delivered ASAP. Use the developing speed lanes."

"Yessir!" the newly promoted Sergeant Ethan McLogan almost yelled, spinning around and running towards his squad. At just under two metres, he towered over the diminutive Epic--but no one in their right mind messed with someone who was impossibly strong and could kill you with your own armor. 

Why me? I need to be at that meeting. Why couldn't he have the Seventh help at the Commonwealth Stadium? But nooooooo, we're the best scouts--sparking slontzes Nico and Kacey--so we're on post duty. He shook his head. What am I thinking? I belong to this unit as much as I belonged to the Circle. But I still gotta get to that meeting.

"Alright Seventh, we've got some work to do. Big Man Epoch is planning a meeting and we've got some Timelord brochures to deliver. Stay in pairs, don't stay to chat. Drop the flyer and run. We're gonna be outside of Tree-boss' range so no fancy armor. Partner up and move out."

Unsurprisingly, Nico and Kacey were practically already standing next to each other. The rest followed suit, grabbing their papers and gear, albeit more slowly, until--also unsurprisingly--only Tash was left. At least she should be easy to lose once we're out.

"Ya wanna--" she started.

"No. Let's get this over with and get back."

*About 45 minutes later, regular time. "Ethan" and Tash done delivering*

"Hey Tash," he called out. "I've got something I wanna check in on. I'll catch up in a few."

"Uuuuhg, fine," she moaned. "But you gotta tell me about her when you get back, or I'm telling the Boss."

"That's not--y'know, fine. Deal."

Ethan waited until she turned the corner, then did a u-ey and headed North, towards the conveniently nearby football stadium. I'm probably gonna regret that later.

[The Young Pyromancer]

What would I do?  I'd ruin your life.

I wouldn't have to do much.  But I'd always be there.  Watching. 

You could never shoot a gun, knowing you might be aiming at an ally.  You could never drive a car, or even ride in one, not knowing whether you'd run into a building.  I could make you look like someone's worst enemy, and your friends look like yours.  I could make you constantly trip, run into walls, run around in circles.  And I wouldn't do it all the time, so you'd start to trust your senses again before you are again attacked, or run off a ledge, or someone crashes into you.  And then, when you have killed all of your friends, they thinking you were their worst nightmare, I will tell all the enemies that you have made through this process EXACTLY where you are. 

And then they will take a turn, torturing you with whatever twisted horrors that their nightmares have birthed.

I will destroy your mind and will until you are unable to think, unable to scream.

Until your mind is...

Blank.

Edited October 28, 2018 by The Young Pyromancer

[Voidus]

A burst of movement caught the corner of Impacts vision as she watched the other Epic for a response. Keeping her eyes on the Epic, she tilted her head towards the movement slightly, trying to catch it in her periphery vision.

A figure with tangled blonde hair ran towards them, the stumbling gait of their run triggering a wave of memories.

Her head snapped towards the figure in an instant.

Megan? How the sparks did she get here?

Her mind whirled with suspicions, plans, reactions. Should she use Megan's assistance with this Epic?

No, I don't need her help anymore. I've managed on my own since the Dalles. I've survived, killed, thrived since then. I don't need my sister Megan's help. I don't even need the Epic MV's help.

As the darkness within her swelled to a peak, all light around her was extinguished from the world.

 

Allison turned in her direction as she ran, briefly their eyes connected with each other as Megan smiled towards her sister.

And then nearly stopped when she saw the cold, icy gaze that was returned to her. She saw eyes that were almost identical to her own twist into something much different and for a moment she felt a lurch of fear in her stomach.

What has happened to her?

And then the world went dark, even the brief, cold view of her sister vanishing from sight.

She stumbled in the darkness, losing her footing and sliding to the ground, instinctively she halted her own momentum and then that of some of the surrounding air, lashing out blindly in an attempt to protect herself.

[DrakeMarshall]

"If you're hungry, I have some food back at my place."  He gestured in a general direction.

Blindside narrowed her eyes slightly. Even before Calamity, that kind of hospitality was suspect, and Calamity hadn't exactly done humanity any favors in that department.

But, she was an epic. A basic like this stranger couldn't be a serious threat to her if he tried. And he was offering food. It was such a bother to take every necessity by force.

"Kind of you. I would like that. What is your name?"

[the winter system]

Kokichi stopped reading after the first sentence, closing their eyes as they threw their head back and laughed. 

(They had to shove their hands into their pockets to keep them from visibly trembling, outside of the ways justified by their laughter. The harsh words weren't spoken out loud, but they heard them anyway, in his voice. They felt his hot breath thick on their neck, with those callused hands clutching tight enough to bruise on their fragile skin.

They twisted their back, subtly, in a way nobody who didn't know what was there would be able to understand. It wasn't a sign of paralyzing memories to the rest of the world, only a form of laughter, a form of playing this off as if it was just another idiot who didn't understand how powerful they truly were. They were powerful, now.

He was dead, they knew, and even if he wasn't, the unnerving way the OP's words were put together were different than his more direct way of speaking. He didn't threaten, he just did. He took, and he took, and he took, even when there was nothing left to take. He was dead. He was dead, this was just another Epic who didn't know who they were.

This was fine. This was fine, they were better, it'd been years since he'd breathed his last messy breath. The very fact they were threatening the lives of their friends meant they had no idea what they were talking about. This was funny.) 

So they laughed. They laughed and they laughed, acting as if they were fine, which they were (not).  

"There a TL;DR for that?"

Beat. 

Then a giggle, as they thought of something.

"Why should I be scared by someone who isn't even here?"  

Edited October 7, 2018 by winter devotion

[The Young Pyromancer]

"N- Nathaniel."

He almost said Nicroburst, but that probably wasn't a good idea.

He was pretty obviously lying, but that wasn't an issue.  Lots of people lied about their name nowdays.  He had heard about some Epic that could do things to you if you told them your true name.  Others might have too.

Epic was unaffected.  They would push this kid a little further, then they would leave them alone.  Blank had just needed to get that  out of their system.  

Why do you assume I'm not here?

Then the paper turned to face the other person, displaying Blank's writing and a recorded log of the things Kokichi had said/written.

Edited October 28, 2018 by The Young Pyromancer

[the winter system]

Kokichi rolled their eyes, even if their heart wasn't in it. They leaned back on their heels, humor they didn't feel ringing through their words. 

"Cuz if you were here, you'd have run crying for your mommy at the sight of that face against yah." If they wouldn't leave them alone with the pure fear, Kokichi would go for the dissonance. "You'd never have tried to threaten me again. So, since you're clearly not smart enough to get the subtext, I guess I'll have to spell it out for you." 

Their face didn't twist or distort at all this time. If anything, they looked more innocent as they spoke, even as their amusement tinted sharp words dredged up their darker memories.

(A shiver ran through their bones as they examined their handwriting and, even though they knew it was a side effect of their strange powers messing with their head, they couldn't keep from comparing it to his. It wasn't originally and wasn't really like that. The familiar way he'd stretch out the dash in letters like 't' and 'h' or the extra curly swirls in s'es -- those weren't really the other Epic's handwriting. It was just a parallel. Just a connection their brain was turning into reality.)

"If you so much as look at me ever again, well, let's just say, it won't be pretty." For a moment, they did drop into their nightmare face, as a sort of sentence ender. "Course, I won't kill you, not even if yah beg for it."  

(It was impossible for them not to notice the way they were dragging out their vowels, even without the sharp edges he'd slipi nto almost any word at random, marking the moments when he might strike or might just watch their flinch.)

They were watching their own mouth form the words from somewhere else. Instead of that fear they'd felt once or even the good humor they presented, they just felt numb. If they were ever to release the raging oceans of emotions that swirled in their chest, they'd be pulled under tow before they could even scream for Arabella.

"Just break your bones, again and again and again and again, cut your skin open to scar you as mine, shock yah, twist everything you love and burn it till it's unrecognizable, make it so you can't ever escape cuz there's no where to escape to, and when all the dust's settled, you'll be so shatter, so twisted, you'll never be able to pull yourself back together again." 

They tasted blood in their mouth, dripping from between their lips as they-- laughed at the fear the OP had to be experiencing after the repeated exposure to such whiplash. 

"Get. Out." 

They knew, logically speaking, that their voice was their own, with its own octaves and pitches. Even their power wouldn't change their literal voice into his-- it couldn't. He'd only ever be able to speak, hissing his toxic reminders of how they were-- how they'd always be his-- into their mind. 

Their voice was their own. 

So why did it sound so much like Agor Parker's? 

[Hemalurgic Headshot]

Liam spun around at the boom, just in time to see the van engulfed in a cloud of dust. The van! He started but stopped himself. It was likely another illusion, just like everything else. Hopefully.

“If that wasn’t you, who was it?” Kokichi called out. The message Epic, Liam realized. The slontze wouldn’t leave them alone. His grip tightened on shotgun as he glanced around. The sparking Epic had to be near. As far as he knew, illusion Epics worked by sight.

Kokichi laughed, throwing their head back in a cackle edged with malice. Liam tensed, the sound bringing the face unbidden to his thoughts. They continued to laugh, in response to another message no doubt. Liam continued to scan the buildings lining the street, searching the windows for a silhouette, anything to not look at Kokichi.

Kokichi giggled. “Why should I be afraid by someone who isn’t even here?” There was tension in their voice, and Liam couldn’t help but look back. He saw another illusory paper, hanging in front of them. Liam leaned closer to see what it said.

“Cuz if you were here, you'd have run crying for your mommy at the sight of that face against yah,” Kokichi continued. An apprehensive glance noticed that their face hadn’t begun to distort yet. Yet. “You'd never have tried to threaten me again. So, since you're clearly not smart enough to get the subtext, I guess I'll have to spell it out for you.”

“If you so much as look at me ever again, well, let's just say, it won't be pretty. Course, I won't kill you, not even if yah beg for it.” Liam mentally shuddered at the vehemence in Kokichi’s words. It almost seemed like they were shaking from the rage leaking out through their mouth, their words. “Just break your bones, again and again and again and again, cut your skin open to scar you as mine, shock yah, twist everything you love and burn it till it's unrecognizable, make it so you can't ever escape cuz there's no where to escape to, and when all the dust's settled, you'll be so shattered, so twisted, you'll never be able to pull yourself back together again.”

There was a dreadful silence.

“Get. Out.”

The paper slowly pivoted towards Liam. In response, he fired the shotgun into it, as a warning. The paper dissolved, exploding into billions of particles that were swept away on the breeze, leaving only Liam, Kokichi, and the van in the street—silent, expectant, and harrowed. Slowly, Liam walked over to Kokichi and cautiously placed a hand on their shoulder.

“It’s okay now,” he said. Kokichi shivered. He scanned the houses again, seeing nothing. “It’s best we get going.”

[the winter system]

Lee was trying to help.

He wasn’t going to—he was just trying to help. 

His hand was strong, even though he didn’t grip their shoulder tight. The contact was meant as a reminder that they were in this moment, not... not that. 

“It’s okay now,” Lee said, but he was wrong. The Epic’s words might be gone, but what they’d done and what they’d said to them were only beginning to sink in. The moment of conflict gave Kokichi strength— it didn’t make sense for them to collapse in on themself like a dying star half way through a threat. But now? It made sense, a twisted sort of sense that proved the universe had a sense of humor far sicker than their own. ”It’s best we get going.” 

His hand was on their shoulder. 

It was only meant to comfort them. It wasn’t like he had any reason to suspect the touch would send their overactive mind back years, back to when they weren’t this strong, after all. After all, they’d grabbed him minutes ago— was it really minutes? It seemed like hours they’d spent forcing back the memories with all the bravado they could muster up. 

There was no way he’d have ever managed to understand the difference. Really, he was only trying to help. 

“No—please, no—” they forced out, the words sounding pathetic to their ears. How had they managed to imitate Agor so closely moments ago? Moments— not hours, not days, not the years he’d had to break them the first time. 

But it’s still that first time in their head and the last real thing they see is Lee’s horrified face. The flashback is too powerful; it’s dragging him in too.  

This time, they aren’t in that almost entirely imaginary room they’d shown before. They’re in the true cell, with every grotesque single detail exposed in stark shades of blacks, of grays, and of whites that makes the red on their skin stand out so much more. It’s the only color that comes through, an almost artistic flair. 

Bruises stain their skin, beneath the chains around their wrist, their ankles, and their neck. When they thrash, it only makes those marks ache. 

The light comes from a too bright lamp burning in the ceiling. It hurts their maladjusted eyes, but that’s nothing in comparison to everything else. They ache, from the fear churning in their stomach, the sorrow seeping from their eyes, and the resignment that’s been slowly sinking into every inch of them the longer nobody finds them.

Their hair falls down only slightly past their chin. Agor doesn’t let them cut it.When they tried— oh, Calamity, they realized, with the part of their mind that was still aware of where they were supposed to be. This was then— this is that night. 

Their back is exposed, and even without looking, they know it’s bare apart from all the sickening yet comparatively normal marks he’s made before. 

“No!” they scream(ed), their voice small and childish at the same as it’s old and scarred. Not this memory— it’s not fair, they can’t show him— he’ll know what it is— he’ll know the truth about them. They couldn’t— they couldn’t breath, here and in the future— in the now. That was the now, they had to get back to the now where Lee was, where the laughter was, where it was safe. “No, no — stop, stop!”

They didn’t know if they were pleading with him or with their own powers. Those powers made them strong, but they also made single memory sharper. They drag them back, every night at best. It’d been weeks since they’d been pulled back while awake, they’d been doing better, this wasn’t fair, they couldn’t show him any of this— 

And Agor is there. 

His lips are moving, forming the mockery of a nickname that would become their weakness. His hands, so callused and marked with a story they can’t even begin to wonder about for the sake of their already fractured sanity. He’s the one drawing blood, ripping the lines they’d carry forever, into their skin as they cried, tears falling like diamonds. 

Everything is perfectly real, despite the almost monochrome colors. There is no exaggeration. No humor, no joke, just him and Atsuki— no, that wasn’t their name anymore. They were someone else, they were funny. They were just another kid. That was who they wanted to be, not this mess. Not this crying heap who’d managed to force their way to the hard ground out of the hand Lee had used to try to help. 

“Please,” they whimpered, their voice a whisper and a moan of pain at the same time. 

[Hemalurgic Headshot]

Kokichi continued to shiver, perhaps unknowingly. The breeze scattered bits of trash across the road, as solemn as tumbleweeds in the desert. Liam struggled for the right words to say, but none came. Thus he stood silently.

“No—” Kokichi choked, looking up. As their hair parted, Liam saw their eyes—truly—for the first time, and he couldn’t hold back a gasp. Each was a watery pit of anguish, a whirlpool filled with every emotion, but happiness was drowning. In that moment, Liam believed that the eyes are the windows to the soul, but Kokichi’s soul…

“Please, no—”

…terrified him. It was unfathomable, paradoxical. And it was coming out—

Liam staggered back, into a stone wall. The street was gone; in its place was a cramped dungeon. Kokichi was gone as well; in their place was a destitute child, quivering shirtless on the disgusting floor marked with dead cockroaches and putrid bloodstains. Its back was lacerated and painfully clear in the light of the ceiling lamp. Liam gagged, but it wasn’t unfamiliar. He had simply tried his best to forget.

“No!” The child screamed hoarsely, now Kokichi, then Kokichi.

“No!” Diaphrax screeched, as the armored soldiers struggled to pick the scrawny child up. The apartment was dark and decrepit, with peeling wallpaper and moldy carpet. Diaphrax clawed at the wool scarf around his neck, but it was fastly secured: his weakness.

“No, no—stop, stop!” Kokichi shrieked, pleading, begging, defeated.

Liam remembered a rat, half eaten. It was the only edible thing in the apartment. The door had been locked; he had battered it down. Diaphrax: Sonic hallucinations, catastrophic sonic booms. Creates avatars of sonic energy. Weakness: knitted fabrics.

Another enters the room, and it seems to darken because of it. No taller than Liam, perhaps shorter, but muscled, and fearsome calloused hands seemingly stained with blood. One held a wicked knife. Liam watched the face and its cruel sneer. This was a bully if Liam had ever seen one. Even his voice was dripping with malice and arrogance: “_______”

And then the beating began.

Liam kept his eyes open for a moment, heard the shrieks, but turned away. It was too much. The screams echoed in the small stone cell. They echoed in his head. Oh sparks, make it stop!

Suddenly it was gone, the quiet Edmonton street returned. Kokichi collapsed to the ground, quivering, covered in a cold sweat. “Please,” they whimpered. Liam focused on a rooftop in the distance to keep from staring. How could I help? Even fathom empathy? Sparks, sparks, sparks… Slowly, Liam looked down at Kokichi, still lying on the ground.

Carefully, Liam scooped them up and carried them to the van. They were lighter than he expected. Gently, he set Kokichi on the couch on the back. As he walked around to the driver’s seat, he gazed up at the sky. If that man, the demon, was still out there somewhere, Liam swore he would send him so far down even Satan wouldn’t save him.

Edited October 10, 2018 by Hemalurgic Headshot

[the winter system]

Kokichi drifted in the in between. 

They weren't quite completely in the past-- they could see Lee as he reached down for them-- but weren't really in the now either. They were a ghost. Everything around them faded, colors dripping and fading like water colors that someone hadn't used enough paint in. The distortion started as slight, with metals that didn't quite shine bright enough, but the closer someone's eyes drifted to Kokichi, the paler the world grew.

If they didn't feel so weak-- powerless-- then they'd have long since forced their way out of Lee's hold, bestie or not, and if they were a better Epic, they would've at the very least threatened him into silence.

Instead, they fell mostly limp with the exception of the trembles they couldn't shake. As the epicenter of the distorted color palette, they were almost completely white, with the only traces of color being the pastel brown of their skin. 

If Lee said anything to Kokichi, they didn't hear it. The only sound in their ears was Agor's reminders, reverberating inside of their skull with some sort of echo that seemed to indicate Lee wasn't proxy to his voice anymore.  

This is all you're good for.

Nobody is even looking.  

I'm the only one who actually wants you.

Lee let go once he pulled them inside of the van. Their entire body tensed, muscle memory preparing them for a blow or a slice or a shock or a burn or something that wasn't coming. After a few moments, they released the breath they hadn't realized they were holding, and their muscles relaxed. 

Kokichi could focus on the real world again, though Agor's voice was far from fading. Lee was in the driver's seat now-- they were back where they were before. This was a positive context. There was no threat. 

You'll always be mine. 

Not right now. They couldn't deal with this now. They had to get back to where they had been -- to who they'd been roughly fifteen minutes ago. There was something light hearted they could grab onto somewhere, wasn't there? 

"So I guess this is when you start hating me," they said instead, somehow managing to string the syllables together nearly completely coherently. "Or thinking I'm pathetic, or whatever. Can't really tell the difference." 

Both emotions tended to put them on the end of someone else's weapon, whether that be energy blast, gun, knife, or whatever else their 'friends' preferred. 

[Hemalurgic Headshot]

Thankfully, whatever the blast from before had been hadn’t damaged the van. In fact, it looked fine. Liam set the shotgun in its compartment and sighed. This was going to be one of those missions, he thought. Once one had spent some time with the Circle of the Shield, they started to regard missions as part of one of two categories: these and those. “These” missions were simple: get in, kill or capture the target, get out. Sometimes, these missions were solo but on occasion the Circle provided backup. Fortunately, more than half fell into this category.

Then there are those missions. Diaphrax was one of those missions. Liam doubted anyone had gone home that day with a clear conscience. They—no, that would be better left unsaid. Those missions ended with therapy, sometimes months. Liam recalled one soldier who had accompanied Hawk on the Flipside mission. In short, the mission was a failure, and the soldier, no older than twenty-five, was one of the few survivors. In reality, Liam was only a few years older than him, but he felt so much older. The soldier—Jansen, his name was—would sit in his dorm for hours. Liam tried to avoid interacting with him. It brought up memories of other missions.

He supposed that this was the obvious consequence of entering an unknown city with several significant Epics and expecting it to go fine.

Kokichi muttered something, breaking Liam from his thoughts. “So, I guess this is when you start hating me,” they said. Liam was quiet. “Or thinking I’m pathetic, or whatever. Can’t really tell the difference.”

“No,” Liam said, after a moment. He twisted in his seat to look at them. “I don’t hate you. And you aren’t pathetic either.” He paused, choosing his words carefully. “I’ve met some great people, some very close friends, who have so many scars it’s hard to look at. But sparks, they aren’t pathetic. I can’t do some of the things they’ve done. Pain is human. It reminds us we’re alive.” Liam realized he was clenching his fists and relaxed them. “I’ve been told you only fail if you don’t get up. So get up.”

Out of things to say, Liam turned around and started the van, trying to suppress the emotion in his face. Sparks, I’m talking like an old person. Sparks.

[the winter system]

“No. I don’t hate you. And you aren’t pathetic either.” He was lying, of course, but Kokichi appreciated the attempt. Or, at the very least, they tried to. “I’ve met some great people, some very close friends, who have so many scars it’s hard to look at. But sparks, they aren’t pathetic. I can’t do some of the things they’ve done. Pain is human. It reminds us we’re alive.”

Lee had twisted to look at them at same point. It took effort to keep from shrinking further. His words didn't sound condescending -- they seemed like they might be more than empty platitudes. The way their powers framed him, with his face illuminated by light, suggested they were genuine. It'd be so dang easy to just accept his monologue, so easy to act as if they were the human he saw them as. 

Why was he trying to convince them? Most of the people he was talking about were probably hurt by other Epics. Kokichi wasn't all that different from any of them and didn't care enough to try to be.  “I’ve been told you only fail if you don’t get up. So get up.”

"It's been ten years," they said, carefully avoiding running their fingers across the lines in their back. All their other scars had faded, some over time and others the instant they'd gained their powers, but the insect he'd carved there hadn't. It was a rather visual metaphor for what he'd done to their head, they figured."If I was gonna get better, I'd have done it by now." 

The longer they went without incident, the worse the inevitable collapse would be. It was a cruel fact they were sure had to be tied into the nature f their powers. If their weakness wasn't what it was, they might've had a friend use it to stop the flashbacks. But that was only an if. They'd never allow anyone to call them that no matter what it could do for them. The cost was too high. 

"It might've been different," they continued, feeling distant and unattached to their body, "if I'd killed him-- Agor-- myself. Closure, y'know?" Saying his name out loud sent another shiver through their spine. "But he's dead. Gone from everywhere except my head." 

[Hemalurgic Headshot]

“It’s been ten years,” Kokichi said. Liam focused on the road. Was Kokichi really that old? It was hard to tell sometimes… “If I was gonna get better, I’d have done it by now.” Right turn, navigate around potholes.

“It might’ve been different if I’d killed him—Agor—myself. Closure, y’know?” They nearly choked while saying the name. “But he’s dead. Gone from everywhere except my head.” There was a shuffling noise, and Liam assumed Kokichi had turned around or laid down. Agor… the man from the flashback. Good riddance, Liam thought. He rubbed the steering wheel distractedly. If only he could do something for Kokichi, but sparks, he wasn’t a therapist. It took someone much more qualified than him to deal with crippling self-doubt, night terrors, sudden panic…

He shook his head. “Hey, do you mind if I…” he asked while reaching over to the dash. If Kokichi had said something, Liam couldn’t hear it, so he turned on the stereo.

There must be lights burning brighter, somewhere

Got to birds flying higher in a sky more blue

If I can dream of a better land

Where all my brothers walk hand in hand!

Tell me why (why), oh why (why), oh why can’t my dream come true!

Oh why

There must be peace and understanding, sometime

Strong winds of promise that blow away the doubt and fear

If I can dream of a warmer sun

Where hope keeps shining on everyone

Tell me why (why), oh why (why), oh why won’t that sun appear

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iwqbuus8QPU)

 

[the winter system]

After a few moments of tense silence, Lee reached for the dashboard and said something that Kokichi didn't make out. They reached into their pockets and pulled out a kit kat bar that, logically speaking, shouldn't have been able to fit. They unwrapped it, their hands moving automatically. 

They broke off each piece individually before shoving them between their teeth. It tasted like ash in their mouth. All of the emotions that had swirled to the surface dissipated as they listened to the sound of the music. It didn't leave them happy or amused or anything like that, only empty. 

Kokichi tossed the empty wrapper out the window. Someone might find it and have it be a dramatic moment, or it might vanish. There weren't really any in betweens. Zero or eleven. That's how they worked. How their powers worked. 

They ate some more candy as the van rode down the road, not quite at normal speed but far from the instant travel of their cuts. 

[Comatose]

"Premier Notley, your visitor set off our scanners."  

So the newest visitor from the Shield was either an epic, or, more likely, was carrying motivator tech.  "Anything on her that might have done it?"

The agent shook his head.  "Nothing we could. . ."  The room went dark.  

The next few minutes were a blur for Rachel as she was rushed from her office, into a safety bunker off to to the side, and her agents rushed to apprehend and secure the visitor--the likely cause of the darkness.  

By the time the lights came back on, Rachel was breathing heavily.  

"Well, where is she?"

(OOC: @Drake Marshall - I'll let you decide whether or not Taya was captured - Sorry for being late everyone)

 

[DrakeMarshall]

The border unrest was just a symptom, Finley told himself. A microcosm of a larger issue. The flood of refugees meant the increasing intervention of displaced epics. He grabbed a hardcover book, a pen, and a napkin, and started writing:

To all epics displaced displaced epics fleeing to seeking residence in Edmonton, I extend my welcome.

I also offer a deal. I would will gladly host any of you within ERA territory, with access to every amenity within reason. The rules are few and simple:

• Rampaging within ERA territory will not be tolerated. Similarly, assaulting ERA officers will not be tolerated. If you Free transportation will be provided to and from other regions of the city, should you desire to pursue these activities.
• If ERA territory falls under attack during your time of residence, you will coordinate with ERA authorities to defend it.

You will not be Provided you make your intent to accept these terms clear, you will not be harmed when approaching ERA territory.

Yours truly,

     Epoch

"This'll do."

Considering how rare working television sets had become after Calamity, it would have to.

"Get this typed up and circulate it around," he ordered, passing the napkin off to Vera, the ambassador. If she thought there was anything out of the ordinary about mass-publishing the contents of a paper napkin, she didn't let on.

"I am also authorizing further increases in recruitment of enforcers in response to the influx of refugees."

Epoch leaned back in his chair. Once the probability epic was out of his hair, he could begin preparing for tonight's meeting in earnest.

[ShadowLord_Lith]

Orbit examined the reports from his people, checking on the progress that had been made in the investigation. So far, those sparking thieves had been almost unfindable. 

He was almost tempted to take that flame epic up on her offer, but he found the idea less than desirable. She and her group were an unknown force in the game he was playing, and he already had to juggle a dozen pieces. No need to add in yet another set of pieces that might turn out to be more important than he thought. He might be forced to though... 

Regardless, he was not happy about the summons. Apparently, people didn't know how to leave that sparking time epic alone. He'd have to go, since none of his men had the same immunity he had. Sparking time manipulator...

He needed ways to keep Epoch down for good, but considering how many people he'd have to fight to kill Epoch, and how many of them were loyal to him, he'd be hard pressed to force Epoch into a situation that would make him powerless. He'd be a sparking nightmare to kill. 

He looked at his mobile, considering. He had time...

He'd at least see what the girls had to say. He could always kill them if this was a trap, after all. Or if he didn't like what they offered. He'd leave longbow in charge while he went to the clandestine meeting, with orders to keep his empire from collapsing and to keep their borders stable. Honestly, he wasn't exactly confident in most of his men, but he trusted Longbow could at least keep any hostiles from entirely decimating his forces.

After the city-wide blackout earlier... it appeared there were more powerful epics in this city than he'd assumed, and since none of them seemed to be well known enough for him to have expected the blackout, well... he didn't plan to take any more chances than necessary. And if these girls got him his amberlight back, maybe he could use them to knock down a few other dominoes.

So he picked up his mobile and called Longbow.

"What's up, Orbit? Need a message delivered or something?" His time was simultaneously annoyed and humored, a tone perfected over time to express his continued disdain for his low status and weak power while also coveying his actual feelings.

"I'm leaving the base. You're in charge until I get back, make sure we don't lose everything to the first new epic who takes a liking to my property."

"Yes sir. Total authority?"

"Except for messing with the hierarchy in this system. And no ordering my death. Now get working." He hung up, standing and fiddling with his tie. He then headed out, eager to see the three girls before meeting with Epoch.

This could turn out to be a very interesting meeting.

Edited October 17, 2018 by ShadowLord_Lith

[TwiLyghtSansSparkles]

Several Weeks Ago

Casper, Wyoming

It wasn't until Casper that Jade mentioned her mother. 

Wyoming hadn't been the first destination on Nathan's mind, once he and Jade left what remained of Oregon. His first thought had been of Newcago, of his friends still there and how much of the blame had landed on their shoulders. But even if they'd had some means of getting that information out of people who would know it while escaping recognition, the sudden reappearance of an escapee and the strange, sparkling Epic who had facilitated his escape would stir up even more trouble. Better to ponder his questions alone in the dead of night than force others to pay the price of answering them.

A few more suggestions had been followed up on. Las Vegas had been a city with more Epics than laws, more sins than slot machines, but the thought of placing themselves under another Epic dictator didn't appeal to them, and so Babylon Restored was off the table. Detroit had been half a wasteland even before Calamity, and years of Epics hadn't helped matters. So when Jade mentioned Wyoming, it seemed as good a destination as any. 

They'd started in Sheridan, found most of the buildings either destroyed or abandoned, and moved on. Gillette, Thermopolis, Worland—judging by the numbers on their signs, those towns had never been major population centers, but it seemed Calamity had driven them all to pastures that, if not quite green, at least weren't brown and overgrown with weeds. Teleporting along the highways, taking small jumps with frequent breaks, had brought them to Casper. There might have been destroyed buildings, abandoned areas, but there were people and those people were willing to take them in. That was where they were when news blew in from Newcago, and that was where Jade first mentioned her mother. 

"So she's still in Alaska?" Nathan stirred his soup before taking a spoonful. He hadn't expected the Casper authorities to offer the usual rate—three square meals and a bed for the night in exchange for assisting with whatever work needed done—to two outsiders who showed up out of the blue, but then again, he hadn't expected ordinary humans to be in charge of the city government, either. "Did she go there after Calamity, or was she there before?" 

"Before. I mean—I grew up there, with her. In Wasilla." 

She'd been Doctor Funtimes when he met her, and he could still see Doctor Funtimes if he focused only on her features. Those dark curls, those wide brown eyes, that small sharp nose set in a round face—it was all the same as the night she'd pranced over to that table, but that was where the similarities ended. Gone was the glitter in her hair, the lift in her voice and the childlike words. Her multicolored prom dress and light-up socks were somewhere among the rubble of Oregon, replaced by blue jeans and a pink shirt. Her Converse high-tops still didn't match, but one was white and the other pale grey—an echo of Doctor Funtimes, but one so soft you might miss it. Her once ever-present smile was gone too, replaced by something more uncertain and—somehow—friendlier. Nathan didn't know her near as well as he'd known his friends back in Newcago, but he knew her well enough to guess that there was something she'd left unsaid. 

"Did she leave and go back, after Khione took control?" 

"No. I left, she stayed." 

That unsaid thing crawled onto the table, made itself comfortable between them. Nathan thought he'd guessed at the shape of it. Alaska had Epics—every place had Epics—but some areas had more than others. If one Delancey had been singled out by Calamity, maybe another had been chosen too. Still, it was best to hedge a bit, let Jade answer how she wanted. "What happened to her?" 

"She got weather powers, killed my dad, and kinda took over Alaska." 

Nathan's next bite got stuck in his throat. Once the choking ended, the concerned onlookers had been shooed away, and he'd gotten his wind back, he glanced both ways to be sure no one had heard, no one would hear what he said next. "Your mom is Khione?" 

Jade didn't look up from the soup she stirred absently. "Yeah." 

"Calamity, Jade." He coughed again as a tickle resurfaced. "I thought you were gonna say she's one of Khione's Epics, not the Storm Goddess herself." 

"Nope. She's the big cheese." She lifted a spoonful of broth and let it pour back into her bowl. "Well, frozen cheese, I guess. Heard she'll stick you in your own personal blizzard if you make her mad."

"I heard that, too." Most of Newcago's elite had discussed local politics, who was in favor, who was out and who was seeking it, but sometimes the conversation had turned elsewhere. Khione had wound her way in and out of those discussions, a hushed and reverent whisper about what she had done, what she could do, what she might do. "You…you want to go find her, I'm guessing?" 

"Yeah, I…." She bit her lip. "Whatever happened to me….whatever you did—" 

His hand strayed, almost unconsciously, to the iPod buried deep in his pocket. It needed recharging, but he'd long since committed the lyrics of that song to memory. Committed her weakness to memory. "You're the one who told me to keep it." 

"Which I couldn't have done if you weren't there. Anyway." A ghost of a smile tugged at her lips, as it always did when she thought she'd won that old argument, but it disappeared just as quickly. "I need to find her. Try and get whatever happened to me to happen to her. Somehow." 

They'd discussed her unexpected transformation more than once, both back in Oregon and after Oregon ceased to be. Nathan's theory—that Epics, like Time Lords, could not only regenerate but needed to in order to conquer the initial corrupt regeneration—might have gotten Jade's approval, but it didn't explain what triggered said regeneration or why excessive power use seemed to invite that corruption back in.  A tentative theory holding remorse as the key ingredient had been floated back and forth, but Jade still wasn't sure how well it fit. Every conversation attempting to get to the bottom of it ended at a wall. The transformation involved an Epic's weakness. That was all they knew. "You know her weakness?" 

"No, but I know her, so I can probably figure it out. I know it's probably not, like, black licorice or something, even though she hated that stuff, but….yeah. I can get a guess once I see her." 

"Alaska's stable, Jade. I mean, I don't know too much about what it's like nowadays, but I know that much. Khione—your mom—she might not be the nicest, but she keeps everyone clothed. I…" He fought to get the words out, still connected as they were to memories he didn't want. "Anchorage won't become another Portland." 

"It's not just that." She set her spoon down. "I—before—before whatever happened—I remember what it was like. What thinking was like. What I was thinking when….all the time. It…" She buried her head in her hands, maybe to hide tears but maybe out of frustration, letting her hands fall mere seconds later. "I don't want to go back to that, and I know my mom won't, either." 

There were a few things that sprang to Nathan's mind, things he could have said, but they all seemed inadequate. They sat in silence for a few moments, Jade staring into her soup, Nathan trying and failing to think how to break that silence. 

"Steelheart's dead," she said at last. "If—if you wanted to go back to Newcago, check on your friends, it's probably a lot safer than it was. I could take you there. And if things go wonky I can get you out." 

A pang of guilt went through him. He'd mentioned his friends a while back, just an offhanded reference, but he shouldn't have mentioned them at all. The other servers at the casino, those left to face Fortuity's wrath—there was a chance all the fallout in Newcago would have occurred to Jade eventually as she continued to take stock of everything she'd done during her corrupt regeneration, but he shouldn't have brought them up. Shouldn't have made certain she thought of them. "It's fine." 

"Look, if you don't want to see what happened, then….I mean, you don't have to, and I might not want to either. I mean, I might. Might not, if I were in your shoes. But if you do, I can get you to Newcago, and then I can bring you back here." 

He looked up a little more sharply than he'd intended. 

"Or to Cheyenne, since they might wonder how you got back here so fast. They're saying Cheyenne's in decent shape, too. Or Lincoln. Someplace Epics aren't really in charge. Or where they're sort of in charge but sort of not." 

He already had a response for her second offer, but his mind was still trying to work through the first.

He should have died that night. It wasn't a thought soaked in despair, or regret, or anything else—it was simply a fact. Jade had saved his life, but what she'd done as Doctor Funtimes had been, by the laws of Newcago, theft and property damage and probably a whole host of other crimes Nathan couldn't name. She'd left reminders of what she'd done in Fortuity's penthouse and by the side of the road, tokens that would dredge up memories of that humiliation every time he glanced down the hall or out the window. Epics didn't forgive things like that. With the Epic responsible halfway across the Fractured States, Fortuity would have vented his wrath on whoever happened to be near, singling out whoever might have spoken to Funtimes as a potential accomplice. 

Odds were, Nathan's friends were long dead. 

And yet there was a chance, perhaps a slim one but still a chance, that a few had survived. It tapped him on the shoulder, refused to let him decline the offer to find the truth. Even if they were dead, he thought, he owed it to them to learn what had happened, to retrace their final steps and remember them as they'd been. 

"Yeah. I mean—I want to go back. To Newcago." 

Jade nodded slowly, not looking at him. "Any idea where you want to go after that? You don't have to decide right now, but—" 

"Alaska." 

Her mouth opened, closed, and softened into an expression of disbelief. "Nathan…." 

He glanced to left and right, saw people immersed in their own food, their own conversations, and leaned forward, keeping his voice low. "You might not have Kh—your mom's weakness," he said, "but I have yours." 

She looked down into her soup again. The implication was clear: If she lost control, or began to, he could bring her back to herself. Negating her powers helped clear her head. He might not be the only person in the Fractured States capable of that, but she likely wouldn't find one of them among strangers in Alaska. 

"And besides. Once you figure out what her weakness is, if I go with you, there'll be two people who know it. Not just one." 

Jade nodded again. She didn't like the suggestion, he could see that much, but she wasn't about to reject it, either. Maybe she knew he'd keep insisting until she relented. Maybe she knew she wouldn't put up much of a fight. 

"Why?" 

She'd asked that question before, after she'd closed his fingers over that iPod and told him he was free to go, free to leave her to grapple with whatever had happened and to grieve her sister all on her own. After he'd said he'd stay with her, for as long as she needed him there. His answer then had been the same as his answer now. 

"Because you shouldn't have to do this alone."

[the winter system]

Kokichi didn't noticed they'd dropped out of whatever montage they'd faded into for a few moments. The music grew quieter, more subdued, despite remaining at the same vowels. Their movements grew more defined, as opposed to the gentle drifting they'd been doing for an unspecified amount of time, with the colors mostly returning to their bright state from before. 

It was as if nothing had happened. Lee would see their actions differently, but that didn't change what those actions would be. There was a moment of pause in between their panic, their sorrow, and then their return, but it was slight. Any time spent reflecting on the past, whether it be theirs or anyone else's, brought the memories to the surface. 

They played with the drawstrings of their hoodie. Lee hadn't been specifically driving anywhere, which made things interesting. The light outside didn't look too different, and Kokichi was reasonably sure they couldn't jump cut past a certain point if their natural drive would be interrupted.

Reasonably. The idea of Kokichi interacting with reason as anything other than a joke or, perhaps, some sort of prank was amusing.

They laughed.

The sound didn't echo. It was a solid laugh, without any hint of bitterness, but that didn't mean it was sincere. They popped a handful of M&Ms in their mouth and nommed them down, crunching them between their teeth. 

Probably without realizing it, Lee slowed to a stop. Kokichi examined what remained of a street post. There were bullets scarring the metal, along with rust and plants growing over it that gave it an edgy zombie tv show look, but it was surprisingly legible.

Thinking of zombies, weren't there Epics that could make some? They'd heard a rumor from the friend of a friend who knew someone who worked in accounting for an Epic in a city that had a friend who'd moved to a place they were pretty sure was called Thottown for some reason and anyway, she'd said something about zombie Epics. Or Epic zombies? Maybe it was just plain old epic zombies, as in the adjective.

Were they mumbling to themself?  

"One hundred and twenty somethingth street," they read. Examining the shops, they spotted relatively decent groups of maples milling about. Most of them spotted the mismatched besties and presumably assumed (lol) that they were both Epics, as their (boring) shoes suddenly became very interesting indeed. Nothing immediately stodo out as interesting, but sometimes it took a while for the Calamity blessed/cursed equivalent of wandering through tall grass to show what the random encounter would be. 

Well, there was probably an encounter here somewhere. 

"Wanna poke around or keep moving?" Kokichi inquired, offering choices in the same vein as a visual novel character. Which made Lee the protagonist? But they were the one searching for friends? Eh, whatever. It was an imperfect analogy. 

[+Ark1002]

Tendril sat in Blank's lair. He knew he needed something to do. He had just got there, so he didn't really know anyone. Ugh...

Edited October 29, 2018 by Ark1002

[TwiLyghtSansSparkles]

Several Weeks Ago

Newcago

Fortuity was dead. 

The families working the farms surrounding the city tended to stay out of politics. Feuds between government Epics weren't of much interest to them. The dizzying cycle of who had fallen into favor and who had fallen out of it had seemed like common knowledge to Nathan only because he overheard the gossip on every shift. To those just outside the city, it might be mentioned offhandedly, if at all. The Reckoners in Newcago, however—that was news. An assassination was news. And the death of an immortal, invincible, downright divine Epic was the biggest news of all. 

"It's probably best if you go in alone," Jade said. Nathan hadn't completely absorbed the news—but then, he wasn't sure a week would be enough time for it to sink in. "I mean, Enforcement doesn't work for Steelheart anymore, but they probably got my face on one of their cameras or whatever." She paused before cracking half a grin. "'Cept they might not recognize me without all that glitter." 

He'd considered making a quick joke about that. If Jade brought it up herself, he assumed it wasn't a sore spot. "Unless you used more glitter." 

She nodded, lower lip protruding as though she'd pondered the notion and found it acceptable. "Not a bad idea. Just, like, put on a whole tub of it so all they see is this big shiny thing walking down the street." 

"Between that and the rest of the city, everybody'd be too blind to try and nab you." 

She smiled, then cast a quick glance around, made certain they were alone, and waved a hand over the dirt. Two radios appeared, each small enough to fit in the palm of a hand. She handed one to him and pocketed the other. 

"If anyone gives you trouble, or you think they might, call me and I'll get you out, okay?" 

So it was happening. The shining city behind him, the place he thought he'd never return to in his lifetime—he would walk its streets soon, retrace steps he'd taken a thousand times and thought he'd never take again. All of those questions that had kept him awake, all the questions that had become nightmares and awful sick certainties, would have answers. He'd greet his friends or learn where to find their remains. 

Not for the first time, he wanted to beg Jade to come with him. Tell her to put a hood over her hair, don wide enough sunglasses to make identification difficult, maybe hide her chin under an especially high turtleneck. From all they'd learned, it would be a friendlier city, a kinder government, a gentler Enforcement he'd find—and yet he couldn't shake the image of black-suited officers swooping in on him the moment his foot touched steel, of one of Steelheart's former government grabbing his arm. 

But once they had him, who would they return him to? Fortuity was dead; Steelheart had followed in his footsteps. Every other Epic was now a threat to the government, rather than the government itself. 

"What sort of signal should I use?" 

She shrugged. "Just whatever." 

So she didn't expect him to give her a running commentary on the city from inside. That eased two burdens—the other being what sort of signal he'd need to remember. If she had nothing in mind, he could simply scream incoherently into the radio and she'd be there in a heartbeat. 

******************** 

He hadn't been certain he'd remember all his friends' old addresses after two years and everything that had filled them, but it didn't matter—Carmen wasn't in her old apartment. Sympathy crossed the new tenant's face when she saw the look on his, and before too long he stood outside another door, still in the understreets but mere steps and staircases from Fortuity's old penthouse. 

During the journey over, he'd wished more than once that Jade was at his side. Not just for the sort of protection only a matter manipulator could provide, but so she could elbow him and call attention to some completely ordinary thing only she would notice, to make an observation only she would make. He wanted to hear her opinions on the trashcans, the old cars frozen in place, the absolute relentless shininess of it all and the city's attempts to make it bearable. Walking through Newcago in sunlight was almost as disorienting as it was familiar, and he wished Jade had been there to stave off the worst of the confusion. 

Now, standing before an apartment a good deal larger than the one he'd had, he wished for Jade again even through the relief that he was alone. Whatever he found, whatever his reaction, he didn't want her to see it—and yet he didn't want to face the truth alone. 

Newcagoans weren't known for cruel pranks. Not ordinary people, anyway. Epics, sure, but not those who lived beneath them. The thought threatened to slip through Nathan's mind as he knocked on the door. 

"Oh my god." 

Carmen's voice. Breathless with fear, but her voice. She'd survived. 

A male voice answered back, the words an indistinct hum, and Nathan couldn't tell who owned it. For an awful moment he thought the farmers had been wrong, that Fortuity hadn't died; a glimpse toward the future would've told him where to wait, how to best lay a trap, when to barge through the door with gun raised—

The door swung open. Carmen's hands flew to her mouth. 

Nathan had known he'd see her, sooner or later, once he heard her voice. He knew he'd see her dark straight hair, falling loose around her shoulders as she always allowed it to on her days off. He suspected he'd see her brown eyes glimmering with tears, as they had been on that last night, when he'd been too wrapped in terror for a proper goodbye. He thought he'd say something then, maybe not something witty but something friendly at least; but all he could do was stare. 

"What," she said, and her voice trembled, "did I say when you told me what Lord Snakehands ordered?" 

Damien had appeared just behind the doorway, his expression mirroring Carmen's but without any tears Nathan could see. Victoria stood at the opposite side of the doorway and a few feet back, frantically tapping out a message on her mobile. Carmen's hand gripped the door, as if ready to close it at a second's notice. A shapeshifter. Of course. The one that came immediately to Nathan's mind didn't seem the type to play such a cruel prank on some lowly servers—whether or not she was the real Taylor Swift, she'd been pretty busy keeping up the pop star persona—but she wasn't the only one in the Fractured States. Carmen had to make sure. Better to give up hope all at once than have it torn away. 

A slight smile tugged at Nathan's mouth. For any business catering to Epics, the safest motto had always been some variation on Give the Customer What They Want, and the LaBeau Restaurant and Casino had adopted that one nearly word for word. Managers and servers alike made it their guiding philosophy—even when a minor Epic with snakes for hands demanded his chicken parmigiana be cooked medium rare. "You said, 'Guess he wants food poisoning.'" 

The words were scarcely out before Carmen threw her arms around him and sobbed into his shoulder. 

**********************

Jade had an atlas to keep her company. Whenever it didn't seem like much, she reminded herself she could have had nothing at all. 

At first, she traced and retraced the possible routes from Newcago to Anchorage with her finger. The atlas was old enough to call the city at the edge of Lake Michigan Chicago, and the metropolis dominating the upper East Coast was still called New York City, but the highways still followed the same routes now as they had back then, so the atlas wasn't quite obsolete. 

Anchorage wasn't the only place in Alaska they could travel to. Without a car, she could bypass the little loop of highway leading through Marsh Lake and Hanes, cutting to Juneau directly from Treslin or Watson Lake. Even Kodiak was a viable option, what with teleportation eliminating the need for a ferry or plane. But from all she'd heard, Anchorage was still the largest city and therefore the most likely place to find her mom. 

Jade's stomach clenched. Maybe they ought to go to Bethel first. It was a longer trip, but a longer trip meant longer breaks and longer breaks meant more of a delay. And delays weren't always a bad thing. They could be a good thing, like when you stopped for a few hours to find old friends. 

Unless those friends had each been strapped to a table, one after the other, long before you even dreamed of returning to find them. 

She longed to stand, to try and walk off the shaking that threatened to set in, but stayed where she was. It was best if she didn't walk around too much, best if she didn't give anyone happening by the long-vacant home something interesting to see through the windows. Nathan had taken a big enough risk walking into the city, albeit a calculated one, after learning what he had from those farmers. He didn't need the rogue Epic who'd gotten his friends into that mess causing a stir. 

She forced her attention back to the map. The most direct routes already avoided Calgary, consumed as it was with a stampede of Epics. An old atlas couldn't know that—most maps wouldn't know that—but it was good for her to know that they wouldn't have to go out of their way to avoid the city. That same path would lead through cities and towns with some of the best names she'd heard—Creelman and Dundurn and Saskatoon. If they wanted to go a little off that path, they could head north at Fargo and hit Winnipeg, though they'd miss Portal entirely. She made a mental note to get Nathan's opinion when he returned. 

Jade frowned at the sky. Still bright, but the sun had moved a good bit further across the horizon. Hours had passed without so much as a peep from her radio. Maybe Nathan had run into an Epic, or exactly the wrong Enforcement officer—though with the way he'd kept one hand near his pocket on his way toward the city, he would've had time to at least press the call button and if Jade had heard that staticky blip, she would've been in the city before anyone could blink. The chance he'd been attacked before he even had time to think about the radio nearly made her risk Enforcement and port into the city, but a different thought gave her pause. 

He might have found his friends. 

If one or two had survived, he would have spent the past several hours with them and nowhere else. Even if they all avoided mentioning the worse parts of the past two years, that was a long time to be apart and they would have had a lot to talk about. That thought—it was a good one, or as good as it could be, given the situation. 

The other conjured up an image: Nathan alone on a steel bench somewhere, head in his hands. 

She bit her lip, turning the oversized page in a vain attempt at distraction. She'd humiliated a very dangerous Epic, sent him from sadistic pleasure to fury in the space of a minute, toyed with him when she ought to have fled without looking back. It had been fun, sure—but that was all she'd thought about. Fun. Having fun, poking fun, being fun. Not about the people left with the consequences. 

Jade flipped away from Canada and turned to a random page toward the front, only barely registering it was a map of Georgia. She'd get a call from Nathan soon, just a quick one saying they needed to talk. Or maybe he wouldn't deliver the words in person; maybe he'd say what he needed to the moment he heard her voice: "I'd rather stay here. It's safer now. My friends are gone, but I…I can't go back. I can't go with you."

She'd expected something similar when she gave him that iPod, and something stronger when they'd left an Oregon beyond hope, but it had made sense for him to stay then. She'd been his best option, an Epic he could rely on for safety when she was in her right mind, one he could neutralize when she wasn't. Sometimes she thought he might consider her something like a friend, though the actual designation would always elude her. It was only fair, after she'd kidnapped him, made him her boyfriend, and paraded him around a war zone in a paper-thin disguise. Jade didn't quite believe in miracles, but the fact Nathan had stuck around as long as he had certainly qualified as one. 

Once he saw what she'd done, he'd end that nonsense for sure. 

**************************

When the sun was nearly at the horizon once again, her radio gave out a sudden burst of static and a familiar voice. 

"Hey, Jade. Sorry I couldn't call you before. I'm on my way now." 

Jade looked to the suede duster he'd left folded neatly on the floor. They'd agreed it was best if he went into Newcago without it; having him masquerade as an Epic had never been one of her better ideas, and leaving even part of that illusion in place would be even worse in a city stuck fending them off. She had spent the better part of the afternoon wondering if he'd be back for it, wondering if she ought to turn it to dirt or water to help the memory fade. "I still have your duster." 

"Yay." 

He sounded tired, but glad. Jade half-smiled. "You know, I could've just made you another one." 

"It wouldn't be the same." 

She couldn't think why he'd want to hang onto a wrong-colored coat he'd gotten from a dangerously unstable Epic on a night he'd been kidnapped twice, but his tone turned her half smile into a whole one anyway—one that fell when she remembered what he might have found. "Is—how did it go?" 

"I'll tell you once I get there." 

Heat rushed to her cheeks. She should have known that question was better answered in person. "Yeah, okay." 

"It went fine, though." 

Those words were tricky. They sounded encouraging, and he'd said them in an encouraging way, but they could mean almost anything. Maybe he meant two of his friends had survived instead of one, or that they were far happier to see him than he'd thought they'd be. Or maybe he meant their ashes were contained in nicer urns than he'd thought they'd get. She was still working through all the possible meanings of It went fine when Nathan appeared out of the distance, gleaming city at his back. 

He wasn't her boyfriend. He'd never asked for the title, and she'd long since abandoned it, to his obvious relief. He wasn't an Epic, either, but as he strode forward with hands in pockets she was reminded of an old comic book, one with the hero walking casually and pensively from the city he'd just saved. Of course, he hadn't saved it—he'd just visited, and for a while too—but she thought maybe he could have. He'd saved her, after all, found her remaining humanity and dragged it to safety. If Newcago or Babilar or any other city needed saving, she had no doubt Nathan could manage. 

She gave him his duster and he readily pulled it on. The day itself had been fairly warm, but evening chills set in quickly. Maybe she should have let him speak first, waited for him to answer before she asked the question, but she couldn't wait. "So it went okay?" 

"Yeah." Surprise laced the word. "He didn't kill them." 

Jade could only blink. 

"I guess—you know how he couldn't see too far into the future? Apparently, he decided that if he kept them around awhile, they'd have to crack sooner or later. Figured that day was always just a little further than what he could see, so he moved them closer and kept an eye on them." He gave a small sniff, like something a couple dozen steps away from a laugh. "They figured he got so mad, he left them alive." 

Nathan didn't quite smile, but Jade saw enough amusement to know he'd meant that last bit as a quip. All she heard was what he didn't say—what moved them closer and kept an eye on them must have meant. She wouldn't ask for details, and there was a chance his friends hadn't shared them anyway, but her mind supplied a few possibilities. She suppressed a shudder. "Are they okay?" 

He didn't answer immediately, drawing a long breath and looking off into the distance just past her before speaking. "Think so." 

It wasn't a definite answer, and Jade appreciated that. He wasn't lying for her benefit. His friends had walked through hell for the past two years, a hell partially of her creation, but they'd come out alive. They'd outlived their tormenter and the immortal Epic who had permitted it all. That was something. 

For a long minute, Nathan said nothing and Jade didn't try. He was looking for the words, she thought, to tell her he'd decided to stay. She tried to find the words to tell him that was okay. That's fine was the safest answer, so long as she didn't make it sound sad enough to make him want to go with her. It was short, yes, but I don't care sounded too harsh and I don't mind was a flat-out lie. Maybe she'd just nod, ask if there was anything he needed. 

"So," he said. It had a businesslike air about it, and she thought she'd anticipated what he'd say next. Thought she'd need one of the answers she'd prepared. "Did you want to stay here for the night, or head north now?" 

Edited October 28, 2018 by TwiLyghtSansSparkles

[The Young Pyromancer]

Viktor moved over to the new Epic.  Cautiously, since apparently those tentacles were plasma.  Or so the man said.  If it was plasma it should radiate heat, and act as a plasma torch to whatever it passed through.  Viktor smiled.  He had gotten that knowledge soon after he was Turned.  The original owner was an overweight, balding man in a lab coat.  Funny how even though he was a theoretical physicist he still wore a lab coat.  It protected him from what, chalk dust?  That man had lasted almost a month before he snapped.  Having your talents forcibly extracted from you, the knowledge and expertise of a lifetime slowly drained from your mind tended to do that to people.  Of course, Viktor took more care with those whose skills were useful, or rare, but the man didn't seem to have anything valuable.  Though Viktor didn't know.  After all, he couldn't drain someone's skill if he didn't know it existed.  Except if he did a general drain, but that was terribly inefficient. 

Viktor focused back on topic.  He was supposed to be nice to the newcomer, so he settled into the chair opposite 'Tendril', holding out a cup.

"Care for some tea?"

One of the things Viktor drained most often, if he had time, was tea brewing.  It had started out as a joke, but then he discovered that knowledge like that didn't affect people too much.  Many times people didn't seem to notice.  Of course, since almost no one was actually good at making tea, the amount he could drain wasn't very large.  Especially once he started getting good at it and the diminishing returns kicked in.  Still, Viktor enjoyed tea, so it was worth it.

Edited October 28, 2018 by The Young Pyromancer