Maelstrom (first attempt at a rewrite)

The consequences weren’t as immediately as clear as the
general idiocy, which was apparent before the decision had been made. Will
Adalwin, Aaron’s best-friend-slash-unofficial-minder, tried to talk him out of
what he had planned:

“Don’t be a dumbass.” He had said. (No-one had ever claimed
that Will Adalwin had a way with words.) “Come back the long way round, with
me. Don’t go through the caves.”

The caves in question were known as the “Maelstrom Mine” –
the “mine” was because they were an old mine that had since be abandoned, and
“maelstrom” because they were overrun with an entity known as “The Maelstrom”.
The maelstrom was a corruptive entity, and had demonstrated a wide range of
corruptive ability, infecting everything from humans to gorillas and turning
them into frothing-at-the-mouth, purple-and-red abominations that couldn’t be
cured. This was a significant blight on the Nimbus System, especially given how
widespread the maelstrom was (originating from a vortex near the system’s
centre), which is why a special force had been set up to combat the maelstrom –
the Nexus Force. Part of Aaron’s confidence and belief that travelling through
the mine wasn’t a bad idea came from the fact that he was part of said Nexus
Force. (The rest was just a natural part of his personality.)

“I’m not going to take any unnecessary risks.” Said Aaron,
who was infamous for taking unnecessary risks. “But it’s been almost a whole
week, and I want to get to the Launch Area as soon as I can, so that I can get *home* as soon as I can, so that I can-”

“See ‘Anna and Plue as soon as you can, I get it.” Said
Will, rolling his eyes further back than was medically recommended. “But you’re
already taking an unnecessary risk. How do you think they’d feel if you ended
up getting yourself killed just because you couldn’t stand an extra hours’
walk?”

“I think they’d be disappointed but not surprised.” Aaron
admitted, as aware of his shortcomings as everyone else who knew him. Will
rolled his eyes again, reaching up to adjust the hat that seemed to never leave
his head. (Aaron wasn’t sure what type of hat it was, but it vaguely resembled
a fedora. Also one of those safari hats.) His dirty blonde hair was jostled by
the motion.

“It’s not a good idea.” He said. He would have tried harder
to stop Aaron, if it were not for the fact that he had known his friend for
many years, and was fully aware that it was physically impossible to stop Aaron
once he had his mind set on something. Not only was it impossible to dissuade
him when he was fixated, but he could go from “standing still” to “sprinting
full pelt” in about half a second, which made him very difficult to catch.

“I know, but I don’t care.” Replied Aaron, patting his waist
to make sure his sword was still sheathed at his side before slinging his pack
over his shoulder and turning to face Will. “Meet you back at the Station!”
Piece said, he threw his pal a jaunty two-fingered salute before spinning on
his heel and sauntering towards the mine, leaving Will with his unvoiced
concerns.

“If you die, I’ll kill you!” Will called after him.

Make that *voiced*
concerns.

Aaron continued to saunter, walking until the sunlight had
disappeared and he had to drag a torch out of his pack. His sword clattered on
outcropping rocks as the path he was on grew thinner and thinner, until he
eventually emerged in a large cavernous area. Save for an overturned minecart
in one corner of the area, the place was empty – there were no scuttling
insects, and there were no infected creatures shuffling towards him with intent
to kill. It was a *good* thing, yes,
but it was eerie.

As Aaron pressed onward, he tried to figure out which
direction he had to go in to get to the Launch Area, having not planned out his
route thoroughly before heading into the mine. This is commonly known as a lack
of forward planning, and it was the second-stupidest thing he was destined to
do that day. His directionlessness meant that he found himself wondering
through the caves, shuddering every time a drop of moisture fell onto his
shoulders and promising to himself that *next*
time, next time for sure, he’d listen to Will. Next time. *(Something he*
repeated to himself every time he found himself in an undesirable situation –
he had yet to follow through on that promise.)

He was drawn out of his insincere thoughts by a terrible
screech echoing through the mine. It *had*
to be maelstrom. He drew his sword on reflex, letting the dim glow of the blade
(fused with a substance called Nexus, which was the only known deterrent to
Maelstrom) add to the torch’s light. His eyes whipped back and forth as he
tried to pinpoint where the screech had come from, but he was unfortunately
answered when it echoed out again, and something slunk into his field of view.

A giant mandible scraped the ground as it hauled the body
forward, followed by another. The creature’s body shook, and a wave of mist
spread from its direction. Aaron stifled a gag as the scent of rotting flesh
hit his nostrils. Then came the eyes – one, then two, then five, then eight –
all beady and luminous and yellow. As the creature came closer, Aaron caught
sight of its maw, filled with too many teeth to properly close, open up and let
out a rasp that sounded ominously like a death rattle. Breath so foul it was
visible hissed out from the opening. Though he had seen creatures like this
before, being no stranger to the maelstrom, Aaron still had to force down a
wave of revulsion. He gripped his sword tighter. It was a spiderling – a
maelstrom monstrosity that only vaguely resembled a spider, and was generally
considered to be far more dangerous.

The spiderling screeched again, and Aaron yelled reflexively
at the pain in his ears. One by one, its eyes turned to face him, quivering in
their sockets.

“Ow! Spades!” He rubbed his ears. “I’m bleeding from the
ears over here, keep it down!”

Everyone has a coping mechanism to deal with stress and help
them make it through stressful experiences. Be it fortune or misfortune,
Aaron’s was quips.

The spiderling hesitated for a moment, obviously not used to
being quipped at instead of being attacked on sight. But eventually, the urge
to kill must have overwhelmed it, because it lunged at him with little warning.
Aaron’s response was to throw himself to the side, and stab wildly at its flank
as it dived by him. He struck true, prompting another screech from the creature
as it viscerally reacted to the pain.

Now that the way was clear, Aaron dragged his sword out of
the spiderling and sprinted forwards without looking back, planning to lose the
creature in the caves. He could hear a scuffling of limbs and some snorts as
the creature began to pick itself up and lope after him, and he forced his legs
to move at full pelt. A whistling and a squelch on the cave wall to his side
alerted him to the fact that it had fired off webbing from its mouth – one of
its spider-ish characteristics (even though, yes, spiders didn’t produce webs
from their mouth, but whatever) – and that it was trying to reign him in. He
ran faster.

The torch was gone – dropped as he’d gone for the stab – so
he used his sword to give himself a vague idea of where he was supposed to be
running. It was slightly inefficient, but it was also better than nothing. It
was by the light of the sword that he eventually spotted a small opening, and
he proceeded to unceremoniously shove himself through it without hesitation. It
was a bit of a struggle, and he could feel himself getting cut on the rocks,
but he eventually made it through with a final furious tug. Panting, he heard
the spiderling scuttle by his hidey-hole, none the wiser as to his escape.

He waited a few tense moments – the spiderling didn’t
return. He was safe. He sighed.

“There’s a joke about being between a rock and a hard place
in there somewhere…” He dimly mused to himself as he rubbed his chest (sore
from being dragged across the rocks), but trailed off as he properly examined
his surroundings.

While at first glance his hidey-hole was identical to any
other cavern, there was something noteworthy about it – embedded in the
farthest wall was a rock that *glowed*.
It was definitely something he hadn’t seen before, and he approached for a
closer look. The rock pulsated with a weak magenta light, and upon closer
inspection, it looked more like a gem or crystal of some kind than it did a
rock. Aaron hummed to himself in curiosity.

It is at this point that Aaron made his idiotic decision.
The one that would go on to cause a change greater than he could have
anticipated at that moment. The truth is that, though advanced, the human brain
is still fully capable of reverting back to its baser instincts. It often does
so in times of crisis, hence the famous “flight or fight” instinct, but these
base feelings can also push themselves to the surface at more random points as
well. This was one such random point. At that moment, any logic in Aaron’s head
was replaced by a single overwhelming desire: “Touch the shiny.”

He touched it.

### ***CHAPTER 1: NOT QUITE DYING***

The first thing Aaron registered when he woke up was the
large number of people surrounding him. He didn’t recognise *anyone* at first, especially seeing how
blurry his vision was – all he saw was a bunch of humanoid shapes encircling
him. It was a bit constricting, and he probably would have either freaked out
or tried to get them to neff off if his body had actually been obeying his
commands at that point. (It wasn’t.) As he continued his miraculous return to
the waking world, the first person he recognised was Will. *Specifically*, the first thing he recognised was Will’s hat, but he
then caught sight of the narrow amber eyes and green streak dyed into his hair,
and that was enough key details for him to realise exactly who it was. His
friend was standing over him with an expression of concern, which is how he
could tell that something was *really*
off. If everything was fine, Will would already be halfway through an
“I-told-you-so”. Even as Aaron watched, however, Will turned around and walked
out of his field of vision. Why? Aaron didn’t know.

The next person he recognised was… (mostly bald head with
tufts of blonde hair clinging on, eyes obscured by thick goggles, orange and
white clothing…? Oh.)… was a man named Doctor Overbuild. Now he was *very* confused. Overbuild was one of the
four leaders of the Nexus Force, in charge of one of its four factions –
Assembly. Since Aaron was in the Sentinel faction, they had never really
interacted, which begged the question – why would the leader of the Assembly
faction not only be visiting some random and comparatively insignificant
person, but someone who wasn’t even in his own faction? Trying to think harder
about it sent a throb of pain through his head, so he stopped pretty quickly.
The Doctor appeared to be having some kind of conversation someone. He couldn’t
see what was really happening, though.

The third person he recognised had golden-blonde hair and a
very faint scar on her upper lip and – ah. Now *there* was a welcome face, even if it did raise further questions about
what exactly had happened to him. Plue Abernathy was his – well, though
“girlfriend” was technically correct, the term seemed not enough describe how
strong their bond was. They’d known each other for years, in the contexts of
friends, flatmates, and romantic partners, and had ultimately turned into what
he liked to think was a mighty duo. They did very different stuff – he did
basic field work, she was in training to become the Nexus Force’s next
commander – but were always there for each other at the end of the day. He
loved her a lot. She was… she was his evidence for the existence of soulmates.
Yeah, that about summed it up. Maybe there was a shorter word for it than that?
He’d have to find one.

Also, he loved her.

They seemed to notice each other at the same time – her eyes
widened, and she leaned further forwards from where she was sitting (by the
side of the… bed? Was he in a bed? Wait, where was he?) to peer closer at him.

“You know, if you’d have died, I’d have
killed you again, what with all the heartache and paperwork that you’d have
left me with.” She said, firmly. Her lip trembled slightly – his heart went out
to her. She was trying to be light about the situation, even though she’d been
so worried…! Bless her.

Acting as though he WASN’T
completely captivated and in love, he squinted at her.

“Feel like… an art exhibition.” He said, blearily. As he
said that, her concerned face broke out into a dazzling smile, teeth peering
out from behind her lips as the grin widened. It was like he could feel the sun
on him after a day of otherwise mediocre weather.

“It’s nice to see that you haven’t lost your sense of
humour.” She told him. “Even if I’m not one hundred percent sure what you mean
by that.” He shrugged, too tired to explain it was because of how she had been
peering at him really closely, and she leant back up (much to his dismay). He
moved to say something else, but was distracted by her flicking his ear.

“…Ow.” He said, not getting more indignant over it because
he was still feeling super dozy. He heard her chuckle.

“That’s for being stupid.”

“’M always stupid.” He murmured. “You know that… and put up
with me anyway.”

“Oh, I do.” She admitted. “But there’s… there’s a limit to
how much stupidity that you can get away with.” She raised an eyebrow. “*You* know that.”

He did. And he figured that a flicked ear would probably
pale compared to the disdain-filled lecture he’d… probably get later. But
again, that was a sign that something was off. He figured that he’d already be
getting one by this point, so what had happened…?

“Y’all sound like you’re on tenterhooks.” He said. “What
happened? Am I missing a limb?” The thought properly struck him a moment later,
and in sudden rush of *oh no*, he
craned his neck to look at himself. It didn’t LOOK like he was missing any
limbs, anyway…

“No, no, not… not that.” Plue admitted, which didn’t exactly
fill him with confidence. He turned to look back at her, but before she could
say anything else, a new voice cut in.

“Mr Wilder. You’re awake.”

Plue turned away, and Aaron followed her gaze to where
Doctor Overbuild was looming at the foot of the bed, staring at him… unblinkingly?
(He may *well* have been – Aaron
couldn’t tell. He was wearing very thick goggles.) The Doctor, instead of
wearing his official uniform, was wearing a long white coat that made him look
a lot more like a regular doctor and a little less like one of the most
influential men in the system. His hands were held behind his back as rigidly
as though they’d been tied there.

“Think so!” Said Aaron, giving a tiny wave as if he was
greeting a friend and not a man of such importance. He found that acting casual
tended to make things like this way easier. Whatever this was. He wasn’t sure
yet. Also, where had Will gone? He looked to be a bit further away in the room,
but Aaron couldn’t quite make out what he was even doing.

“If I may,” said Overbuild without cracking a smile, “there
are things I wish to discuss with you.”

It was then that Aaron saw one of the Doctor’s legs. The
movement was subdued, but it was bounding up and down ever so slightly. He was
excited about something. Or, at the very least, anticipating something. The
plot thickened.

“Uh… sure.” Aaron managed. “You, uh… you can go right
ahead.”

Overbuild nodded in approval.

“Well then, I suppose a sitrep is in order.” He said, before
adjusting his position slightly where he stood. He *was* excited. What did that mean…?

“First of all: you almost died.” Overbuild stated. It was a
blunt one, and it was one that he had anticipated based on everyone’s reaction,
and it was one that still had him reeling.

“R… right.” He managed to say. “Right.” He wasn’t sure how
to react – he’d broken some ribs before when jumping across some balconies, and
he’d knocked himself out after slipping on a flannel he’d been messing around
with, but as far as he could remember? This was the first time that he’d almost
actually died, and it was the first time that he’d almost genuinely gotten
himself killed. Ice flooded his veins. *Oof.*
That was worrying to think about. What if he really *had* died? What would have happened to Plue? Or Anna? Or-

His train of thought was cut off by the feeling of Plue’s
hand slipping into his. He looked up at her, surprised. She squeezed his hand
tightly, smiling tensely. He found the strength to nod at her. They could talk
about it later, but for now? He was okay, he was good, he had this. He turned
his attention back to Overbuild.

“Okay.” He reaffirmed. “I almost died. Classic Aaron.
Continue?”

Overbuild gave no more emotions away as he continued to
speak. “You were found unconscious in the mine, thanks to your tracker…”

The Doctor’s voice faded as Aaron began to mentally thank
the trackers embedded within Nexus Force equipment – cheap to make and not
always reliable, he’d had his problems with them in the past, but his had
apparently come through for him when it really needed. Finally, some good hugging
news. He zoned back in to hear Overbuild talk about how he had been brought in
and treated.

“That was over a week ago. This is the second time you’ve
woken up.”

“Second?” Aaron echoed dumbly, all tracker-related
positivity suddenly forgotten. “I- this is the first I’m… I mean… I only
remember the caves and then now. I don’t remember waking up before this.”

Overbuild nodded pensively.

“Acceptable.” He said. “You were in a lucid state. You were
also extremely hostile, and we have reason to suspect that you would have
lashed out at medical staff had you the energy to do so.”

““hostile”?” Again, Aaron repeated what was being said to
him. He felt a bit like a broken record, but hey, it helped stuff to go into
his brain, so he did it sometimes. But the sound of him being super hostile
when waking up? And he didn’t remember that? *What the heck.* He turned to Plue, who was now outright frowning.

“I was there.” She confirmed. “It… well, it happened.”

“That’s weird.” Aaron said as he continued to process
everything. “That’s really, really weird. I honestly don’t remember any of
that.”

Overbuild gave no comment, instead continuing to speak.
“There is something you ought to know about the nature of your injuries.” He
said, continuing with the whole speaking-in-a-very-matter-of-fact-way thing. “Something
very peculiar.”

All Aaron had to say to that was an “Oh”. Really, all of
this was just one thing after another – and he *had* just woken up from a coma that was apparently a week long. It’d
make sense that he’d feel a bit out of it. more importantly, though: what was
the Doctor talking about?

“You’re sounding a little cryptic there, sir.” He said, in
spite of himself. Overbuild peered at him. Aaron couldn’t tell what he was
thinking, and was hit with a sudden worry that he’d get in trouble for speaking
that way to a superior. (It wouldn’t be the first time something like that had
happened, at any rate.) However, instead, the Doctor turned to a woman also
wearing a white coat standing off to their side, and said:

“Show him the photos.”

The woman nodded, and powerwalked off to grab a tablet that
was lying on a table on the other side of the room. As she did, Aaron realised
that he was in a hospital – or, at least, somewhere that looked a whole lot *like* a hospital – but that he was the
only patient in the room. His was the only bed. With his vision fully
recovered, he could see Plue, Will, Overbuild, and some other people who he
could only assume were medical staff. (Will was talking to one of them, which
he supposed explained why he hadn’t actually joined the conversation yet.)

“Where am I?” He took the chance to ask. He’d directed the
question to Overbuild, but it was Plue who answered, still holding onto his
hand.

“A private ward.” She said. “Nimbus Station’s general
hospital.”

“Ah, it *was* a
hospital…” He murmured. Before he could say anything else, the woman walked
back over to his bed and handed him a holographic tablet with a section of
photos loaded up. He gave the first one a cursory glance – then, he looked at
it. Focused on it. Kept focusing on it. Because, honestly,

“What. The crap.” He said. Looking up at the people around
him, he pointed at the tablet. “That’s-”

“You, yes.” Overbuild said.

Aaron’s first reflex was to reach a hand down to his chest,
but what he had seen stayed his hand. The images were all of him, and all of
his wounds. If he figured right, they were whatever scratches he had received
on his torso when dragging himself through the small opening in the cave. There
was also the gash on his knee from when he had sliced it open while trying to
tray sled (which had still been scabbed over and unhealed, the last he had
checked), and all of the other little scrapes and bruises he’d collected
recently. His lifestyle was nothing if not active, after all. The thing was,
maelstrom clung to all of them. His blood, at least, was still red (or what
little blood there was in the images), but it was like any wounds were emitting
maelstrom energy in the same way things infected by the maelstrom did.

How many steps were in the process of accepting your death,
Aaron couldn’t say for sure, but in that moment, he felt himself go through the
vast majority of them. He sank back onto the pillows in dismay.

“So how long have I got?” He asked, almost disconnected from
his voice. This was it. He was dying. He was actually dying.

“That’s the thing.” Overbuild’s hesitance – his unsure-ness
– was what dragged him out of this depressive state (at least, kind of). The
last thing anyone would have ever expected a faction leader to do was sound
unsure of themselves, and yet, Overbuild had done just that. Also-!

“You touched me!” He realised. He turned to Plue, and then
looked down at their intertwined hands. “You’re *still* touching me!” He pulled his hand away and cradled it at his
chest, panic welling within him. “Couldn’t you be infected-?”

“That’s the thing!” Plue repeated, motioning with her head
that he ought to listen to Overbuild. His heart felt like a jackhammer in his
chest, but he managed to contain himself to hear the Doctor out.

“Once infected by the maelstrom, a person will succumb in
anything from hours to days, becoming what we know as a *stromling*. An infected being” Overbuild told him, sounding a bit
like a PSA video. Certainly, some of it was stuff that Aaron had heard before.
But what did he mean by it? “The longest that a person withstood the
metamorphosis from human to stromling is between three and four days. And yet
you, Mr Wilder, have been in our care for seven days with no signs of
succumbing to infection.”

Oh.

That was what he meant by it.

“In addition to this,” continued Overbuild, as if he hadn’t
just asked Aaron to drastically shift his worldview of what was and what wasn’t
possible, “your body is producing an extraordinarily large amount of maelstrom
energy without infecting itself.”

Aaron’s mouth suddenly felt dry. He swallowed as the
impossibilities kept stacking up. “And it’s safe for Plue to hold my hand
because…?”

The Doctor folded his arms. “We’ve determined that as long
as a person susceptible to infection doesn’t come into direct contact with any
of the energy you’re producing, they won’t be infected.”

“So… so no-one touches the open wounds, right? Got it.”
Aaron inferred, before being struck by yet another horrible thought (today was
really just a good day for anxiety). “How did you find out what was safe and
what wasn’t?”

“Scans indicate that the energy you produce is identical in
nature to the maelstrom energy emitted by infected beings, so not touching that
is common sense.” Said Overbuild. “And we know that any part of you not
actively emitting maelstrom can be touched because Miss Abernathy insisted on
trying to calm you down the first time you woke up.”

Aaron turned to Plue in shock. Plue rubbed her neck and
didn’t look him in the eyes.

“You were freaking out, and I… I didn’t think.” She said. “I
grabbed your arm and held it until you’d been anesthetised. And then we
realised that I hadn’t been infected, so we tested it a bit more and I ended up
holding onto you for three hours straight without anything happening.” She
shrugged, not looking at Aaron – who could only imagine how dumbstruck his face
must have look at that moment. “And that was that.”

“Darl.” He said, reaching out and taking her hand in his
once again. She turned to look at him, face reddening. “You…” He smirked. “You
absolutely can’t talk to me about doing reckless things after that.”

Plue’s blush faded, and she glared at him.

“That was a one-time thing!” She protested. “You do stupid
stuff most days! There’s a really significant difference!”

Aaron was too busy laughing over the fact that she’d already
guarded against the retort he had planned (“I only do stupid stuff *most* days, not *every* day”) to take her super seriously. And then he kept laughing,
because *hey maybe he wasn’t dying after*
all*?*

It took a good few seconds for him to calm down – and
honestly, he appreciated everyone giving him a moment to process. Really, it
was too much. To be told in one sitting that you’ve been in a coma for a week,
that you almost died, that you were apparently infected by maelstrom (which
normally kills people), only for it to be revealed that it doesn’t seem to be
killing you? Not LITERALLY not enough for the human brain to handle, but in
Aaron’s opinion, it was easily as much stress as he wanted to deal with for the
foreseeable future.

Once he’d stopped laughing-slash-having a crisis, he turned
back to Overbuild.

“So, uh, what happens now?” He queried unsurely.

Overbuild stroked his chin.

“Well, you’re being removed from active duty for the
foreseeable future.” He said, rather guttingly. It made sense, yeah, but it
still sucked for Aaron, who enjoyed being active and who always took his duty
at least semi-seriously. Still: it was Doctor’s orders. (*The* Doctor’s orders.) “You’ll be discharged from the hospital, but
you’re not allowed back in the field until we’ve determined how you’re
producing maelstrom energy without getting killed by it.”

It all… was a bit much, but at least it made sense. Mostly.
And hey, he’d get to be at home throughout all of it, which he’d take over a
sterile and honestly slightly uncomfortable hospital room and bed any day.

“Is he going to be monitored, or anything?” Plue asked.
Aaron was surprised by the question, but it made sense once he thought about
it. What if his… condition? Yeah, condition. What if it changed?

“I was just getting to that.” Overbuild assured them, before
turning to the woman by his side (who had been silent thus far in the
conversation). “Kaylori: I want you to visit and perform an exam once every
three days. If his state changes in any way, let me know immediately.”

The woman saluted. “Yes sir.” She said, in a stern voice.

Overbuild turned back to Aaron and Plue. “These are the
conditions of your discharge.”

“Okay.” Aaron nodded to show his acceptance. He wasn’t quite
sure what else to say, but the moment was saved by Will wondering up to them,
having apparently finished whatever conversation he had been having on the
other side of the room.

“You feeling okay?” He asked.

Aaron managed a shaky smile. “Honestly? I’ve felt better,
but all things considered, I don’t think I can complain. I’m alive, anyway.”

“Looks like it.” Will nodded. Then he held out his hand. He
was holding an extremely thick cloth that had been wrapped around something.
“They, uh, they said I should probably give you this.”

“What is it?” Aaron asked as he took the cloth and began to
unwrap it. He and Plue both peered at it as the cloth fell away, and Aaron felt
a jolt of recognition as he saw what was within.

“Yes – that.” Overbuild remarked. He flicked the side of his
goggles, and an additional pair of lenses shot outwards, placing themselves in
front of the eyepieces – presumably to let him see even *better*. “You were found with it clenched in your hand. We didn’t
want to risk removing it, seeing as how it emits a small amount of maelstrom
energy itself, and better safe than sorry – you only dropped it once you
regained consciousness the first time.”

Aaron only half-processed all that Overbuild said. Sitting
in his hands was the gem from the caves.

### ***CHAPTER 2: FIREHANDS MCMIKE***

“You smell too clean. It’s disgusting.”

Such was the criticism from ‘Anna upon his arrival back in
their flat. No “hello there”, no “oh my gosh you almost died” – it was
immediately into criticising how he *smelled*.
Aaron melodramatically slumped his shoulders, even as he ruffled his younger
sister’s brown hair, making it even *more*
messy than it already was. Behind him, he heard Plue laugh as she closed the
door behind them.

“It’s good to see you too.” He fake-grumbled, pulling away
and looking ‘Anna in the eyes. “Did you behave while I was away?” He’d ended up
staying in the hospital for another three days, which had both made him feel
even *more* cooped up and resulted in
further confirmation that he was, in fact, some kind of outlier, as he had
continued to produce maelstrom and had also remained uninfected. It was all
very thought-provoking, but mostly he was just happy to see ‘Anna again after
what felt like so long.

She rolled her eyes, which was obviously something she had
picked up from Will. What a bad influence he was. “And just who the hell do you
think I am?” And *that* would have been
something that she’d have picked up from him – clearly he was the superior role
model out of them.

They remained staring at one another for a moment until
Aaron broke, laughing.

“That’s my sis!” He pulled her into a hug. Plue stepped by
the two of them, shrugging off her coat and trying to toss it onto one of their
pegs in the hall (emphasis on “trying”, seeing as how it just fell to the
ground). Grimacing, she picked it up and placed it on properly.

“I like how it was never actually confirmed that she behaved
before you started congratulated her.” She observed with just a hint of
dryness. Aaron stood up, grabbing ‘Anna in his arms as he did so (making sure
that the thick jacket Plue had bought him was still on so that none of his
wounds came into contact with her), holding her in the air. She wriggled a bit
but didn’t actually say anything, so she was okay with it. and *man*, she was getting so big-!

Ignoring the sudden deluge of flashbacks of a five-year old
‘Anna running around his legs, Aaron focused his attention on Plue.

“If she really *had*
misbehaved in, like, an actually bad way, I’d have heard it from you already.”
He pointed out. ‘Anna knocked her chin into his shoulder, and he took the hint
and set her back down, shoving his hands into his pockets and feeling the gem
(having stuffed it in there for temporary safekeeping). Plue, meanwhile, nodded
in a thoughtful sort of manner.

“That’s fair.” She said. Point of discussion earlier, she
began to wriggle out of her shoes, pulling them off of her feet and kicking
them so they slid to the side of the hallway.

Dante stooped down to untie his own laces, which gave him a
moment to think. As glad as he was to see ‘Anna again, his mind was still
heavily weighed by his diagnosis, and the fact that he was technically a dead
man walking. (And okay, it wasn’t quite so dramatic, but inexplicable
circumstances were the only reason he wasn’t dead at that moment.) So how much
could he explain? He didn’t want to keep ‘Anna in the dark about anything, but
he didn’t want to worry her either-

“You should tell her.” Plue’s voice interrupted his
thoughts. He looked up from his still-tied shoelace to see Plue standing over
him, arms folded.

“You could figure out what I was thinking?” He asked. It
wasn’t as though reading people had ever been a strong suit of hers, after all.
She blushed.

“Not exactly.” She admitted. “But considering the
circumstances, it’d take an idiot to *not*
know what was weighing you down. And I know *you*,
which means I know what you look like when you’re stressed.”

“Right.” He could accept that kind of logic. Even if it was,
well, *logic*. “So, you think I should
tell her?”

“Yeah.” Plue confirmed. “I think she’d be upset if you left
her out of it, or anything like that. It wouldn’t do anything good for the
trust you guys have in each other. Besides, if anything did happen to you-”

Aaron winced.

“-she’d at least be a little more familiar with the concept,
and a little more mentally prepared for a bad outcome.” Plue unfolded her arms,
and knelt down to meet Aaron’s eyes. “I’m not saying it’s ideal, because of
course it isn’t, but I really think she deserves to know.”

“Right.” Aaron nodded, first in acknowledgement and then in
agreement. “Right. Right. Okay. I can do that.”

Plue smirked. “You’d better.” She told him. “Because she
heard everything we just said, and if you leave her hanging now, she’d probably
kill you.”

Oh.

Suddenly hit with a wave of situation awareness, Aaron
looked up to see ‘Anna staring at him intensely, folding her arms in what he
could only assume was an imitation of the pose Plue had been in moments before.
Well, that was a pretty good reason to fill her in as well, he supposed…

“Tell me what?” She asked, and Aaron began to try and think
about what to say. His (admittedly already pretty weak) concentration was
broken once he realised that Plue had stood back up and was walking down the
hall, further into the flat.

“Plue?” He asked, probably sounding a bit more helpless than
he meant to. Plue looked back at him and smiled sweetly – a little *too* sweetly.

“Good luck, honey.” She waggled her fingers in a little
wave. “I’ll make some hot chocolate for when you’re done.”

And then she was gone, leaving him alone to have quite a
difficult conversation. He’d have been more annoyed if it weren’t for the fact
that she was right, and that it was a conversation that he *had* to have with ‘Anna, and that it was a conversation that *he* had to have with ‘Anna. All fairly
placating factors.

“…Tell me what?” ‘Anna repeated after a moment’s hesitation.
Between that and the expression on her face (lip trembling, eyes widening), it
was clear that she was scared of the answer. And it *killed* him. He drew in a tense breath.

“Well, uh…” He hesitated himself. How was he, her only
family, supposed to explain to her that not only had he almost died, but still
had every chance of dying? After all, what if his condition changed? If his
body suddenly decided to not be immune to the maelstrom he was producing?
That’d kill him. And the whole looming death thing was especially bad because…
well, the fact was that he’d almost died before. It wasn’t a good thing, of
course it wasn’t, but it was at least something familiar. This? This was new.
New in a bad way. And he wasn’t sure how she’d process it.

“No easy way to say this.” He told ‘Anna, who frowned and
nodded. He clicked his fingers, listening to the crackling sounds (a nervous
habit), and cleared his throat.

“Get on with it.” ‘Anna told him in no uncertain terms. He
might have laughed if he hadn’t been so stressed.

“Okay, first of all: I almost died.” He said abruptly. Too
abruptly? He rubbed the back of his neck. “I figured I’d just get that one out
of the way.”

‘Anna’s fear seemed to evaporate. She fixed him with a stare
that was packed with enough disdain to kill a raven, tapping into the dramatic
nature that only children could access.

“Again?” She asked him, emphasising the whole disdain thing.
Which was… a fair response. A fairer response than he cared to admit,
definitely. How many times had he almost died? There was the balcony thing.
There was the time on the field test. There was… yeah, there were a lot of
times he’d almost died. He could probably just call this one “the cave
incident” in his mind and move on, were it not for the fact that something was still
technically fundamentally wrong with him.

“I try to not die, but sometimes I almost do anyway.” He
said as an explanation (it was a pretty trash explanation, but he didn’t have
time for anything better). “But ‘Anna, that’s not the thing that we need to be
worried about.”

It was the disdain’s turn to evaporate. Now, she looked like
she wasn’t sure *what* to feel. It was
fair. His return had been a bit of an emotional rollercoaster thus far.

“So, uh, I’m not quite sure how to explain this with words.”
He admitted, and unzipped the coat. ‘Anna moved towards him, but he held up a
warning hand. She walked right into it and recoiled, rubbing her nose
indignantly as she eyed him from behind her hands. He held the hand further
upright, as though he was on the business end of a significantly-sized gun.
“Sorry.”

Throwing the coat off of his shoulders in as dramatic a
fashion as possible (slinging it around on one hand and flinging it across the
hallway, where it skidded across the polished floor), Aaron brandished his arm,
where some of the deeper scrapes around his elbow and forearm hadn’t quite
healed yet. The royal purple of maelstrom was still visible within the wounds.

‘Anna stepped forward in what Aaron figured was curiosity.
“What is…?”

Realising she was about to poke the wounds (still out of
curiosity), Aaron hurriedly jerked his arms away with a gasp. “No!” He yelled.
“Don’t touch.”

Rather than be dissuaded, ‘Anna leant further forward. “Let
me *see*!” She complained, making
grabby hands at him. He stood up and pressed himself against the wall, holding
his sister off by sticking his foot out and letting her walk into it.

“You see with your eyes!” He complained right back at her, lightly
kicking her away. ‘Anna stopped, before groaning loudly.

“Fine.” She said, before folding her arms and eying him.
“So, what’s up with your arms?”

“Uuhh…” Aaron found himself a bit lost for words again. His
eyes strayed to the doorway that led to the kitchen. Plue’s hand stuck out from
behind the wall and gave him a thumbs-up.

Bolstered, he said it.

“It’s maelstrom.” He admitted. “Apparently I’ve still got
maelstrom in me, or I’m producing it, or something, and I’m not dying, but it
could still kill someone else if they touch me.”

‘Anna peered at him – not with fear, but with curiosity. It
wasn’t exactly the reaction he’d anticipated, but he wasn’t going to complain
about her not being as scared or upset as he thought she’d be.

“So… no hugs?” She eventually said. Aaron wasn’t sure
whether to laugh or cry over his sister’s priorities, so he compromised with a
nervous giggle.

“Check with me first.” He explained. “You’re fine as long as
you don’t make contact with any of my wounds, so you can still hold my hand,
and you can still hug me if I’m wearing clothes over the infectious bits.” It
was surreal to talk about. Talking casually about the maelstrom, considering
the fact that it only existed as a sort of scourge against life itself, was
strange. Talking casually about the fact that he was, like, *physically producing* Maelstrom? Unlikely
that anyone had actually done that before.

To her credit, ‘Anna accepted it all fairly easily. She
nodded.

“Cool.” She told him, before stealing one of his shoes and
running into the kitchen, making it clear that the conversation was over and
that she’d moved on to something else.

He almost made a move to follow her, but then Plue all but
stormed *out* of the kitchen, muttering
to herself and slipping into her shoes as she violently clenched her phone in
one hand. She didn’t bother with laces or straps – instead, she kicked the
floor to jostle her foot into the shoe properly. The “shoe dance”, as Aaron had
dubbed it. But the fact that she was in such a hurry-

“Did something happen?” He asked.

“Kind of.” Plue answered, panting as she finished wriggling
her feet into her footwear. “Duke wants me to be at a meeting and I only *just* found out, so I can only get there
if I hurry.”

Aaron stood up in a rush. It was really one thing after
another in this household, wasn’t it? The main weight on his mind suddenly
shifted from “*I could either die or inadvertedly*
kill someone*” to “*Plue isn’t good
with sudden changes of plan*”. “Are you-”*

“No, no I’m not.” She told him in no uncertain terms. “But
it’s a short meeting, and I really ought to be there, and I’ll be home in like
two hours, so I’m just going to have to live with it.” She flung open the door.
“Don’t smoke out the flat while I’m gone!”

“Wait!” Aaron called, and she spun back around to face him. Her
eyebrow rose, and a breeze caught her hair, and it was suddenly one of those
moments where she looked so pretty that he felt robbed of breath. “You…” he
murmured. “You, uh, forgot something?” He would have been more specific, but a
combination of adrenaline from the rush of Plue’s departure and the leftover
stress from his talk with ‘Anna meant that he’d forgotten what she’d forgotten.

Plue blushed (?), stepped forward, grabbed his shoulders,
and- pulled him into a quick but deep kiss, pressing their lips tightly
together for a good couple of seconds before pulling back. Her cheeks were
rosy. She said something like “goodbye” and was then gone. The door slammed
shut.

Dumbly, Aaron ran his tongue over his lips (she’d been
wearing the strawberry lip salve), and only then remembered that what she’d
actually forgotten was her coat.

Ah, well.

She could handle the cold pretty well anyway.

He was pulled out of his reverie by a cackling coming from
behind him. Turning around, he saw ‘Anna sniggering in his general direction
while holding a tin labelled “biscuits”. He wasn’t sure if she was cackling
over Plue’s misunderstanding, or the fact that she was currently pilfering
their snack supply – but he wasn’t going to let her get away with it either
way.

“Get back here, you gremlin!” He called after her, breaking
into a rundown the hallway to get at her. She shrieked in delight before
disappearing from the doorway (and taking the biscuits with her). He slid into
the kitchen just in time to see her duck under a table with her ill-gotten
gains. She was still laughing like a supervillain. He would have gone after
her, except that he ended up sliding too far, colliding with a cabinet door and
bouncing off it with the thunk of wood echoing throughout the room.

“Ow.” He muttered, rubbing his back. ‘Anna poked her head
out from under the table.

“You okay?” She asked him, slowly bringing a biscuit towards
her mouth as she eyed him. He waved her off casually – at least, he *meant* to wave her off casually. What
actually happened was that he waved his arm and felt a course of energy jolt up
said arm right before seeing a burst of fire scorch the ceiling. It was unclear
who screamed louder – him or ‘Anna. He all but jumped upright, seizing his hand
with the other and clutching his wrist. If anything, he was *more* shocked by the discovery that his
hand was completely unhurt. The situation had become so chaotic so quickly, it
had actually taken a moment for him to register that the flames had been a
light shade of purple.

He eventually remembered, though.

Maelstrom flames? *Maelstrom*
flames*. That was what they were. It had to be. Hands shaking, he reached*
into his pocket and drew out the gem, staring at it as if expecting *it* to start throwing fire everywhere as
well. It was mostly translucent, and, he noticed for the first time, clear cut
– not like the raw rock found in a cave, but like a diamond that had been
processed and was ready to be solved.

“What *was* that?”
‘Anna’s cry interrupted his brief stint of thoughtfulness. Still with one hand
in the biscuit tin, she had emerged from under the table and was now staring at
Aaron with fury in her little blue eyes. “You didn’t say anything about fire!”

“I didn’t *know*
anything about fire.” He retorted, wiping the sweat from his brow. Oh, aces and
spades, what was happening to him? What had he gotten himself into? He looked
at the gem again. He’d regretted spur-of-the-moment decisions before, of course
(such as the times he’d almost died), but things seemed particularly bad now.
Why couldn’t he have just… not touched the shiny? He forced himself to push
down the anger. ‘Anna had no idea what was happening. She needed an adult.
(Hell, *he* needed an adult, but
whatever.) “Honestly, ‘Anna, I – I didn’t know I could do that. I didn’t know
what that was.” He stowed the gem back into his pocket.

“I mean, it looked like maelstrom.” She said. Not
untruthfully. He looked down at her. She was pensive in the way that only a
ten-year old can be, squinting thoughtfully with biscuit crumbs on her chin.

“I think it was.” He admitted.

There was a brief silence, punctuated by the sound of
chewing. Aaron held out his hand, and ‘Anna dropped a biscuit into it. He
shoved the whole thing into his mouth.

“You’re disgusting.” His sister said.

“I need my energy.” He retorted. “I’m… I’m very stressed
right now and I just want to eat.”

Thankfully, ‘Anna didn’t point out that that was stress
eating. Instead, she stared very intently at his hand. She did eventually
speak, but it wasn’t what he’d been expecting.

“What else can you do?” She asked.

Aaron almost choked on the biscuit.

“What do you mean?” He counter-asked, once he was sure that
his windpipe wasn’t going to get clogged up. “What *else* can I do?”

‘Anna nodded. “Yeah.” She said. “You didn’t know you could
shoot fire, right? What if there’s other stuff you don’t know that you can do?”

It says a lot about the logic of the Wilder family that it
took Aaron a disturbingly short amount of time to get on board with the idea of
“*purposefully trying to shoot maelstrom*
stuff out of his hands*”.*

### ***CHAPTER 3: COOL***

The next almost-two hours were some of the most frantic and
chaotic (in more than one way) of Aaron’s life, as he and ‘Anna rushed around
and tried to figure out as many things as possible about his condition before
Plue returned. (It wasn’t explicitly discussed why they had to get it all done
before she returned, but the general inference (at least, from Aaron’s point of
view) is that Plue was a person who did not like surprises, and did not like it
when the house was full of infectious substances, and their testing was
resulting in both.) After bundling ‘Anna up in about ten layers, to protect her
from infection, and giving her a datapad to write notes, he set about
physically testing himself and his maelstrom-producing capabilities. As it
turned out, not only could he produce large amounts of maelstrom energy from
his hands, but depending on how he faced and turned his hands, he could produce
different substances.

There was the fire (as established), which poured from his
hands when he angled his palms up and curled and spread his fingers. When he
clamped his fingers together and put his hand into a “stop” position, a beam of
pink light shot out of his hand and seared a burn onto the ceiling (and he was
probably going to have to paint over that later). Palm and fingers angled
directly forwards, and electric arcs leapt from the tips of his fingers.
Finally, when he turned his hand upside-down, his palm became able to shoot out
a cobweb-like substance that stuck to whatever it was shot at while remaining
attached to his hand. It looked useful as a capture weapon, definitely – but it
also didn’t disappear like the rest of whatever he produced (he was going to
have to ensure that it was *him* who
cleared out the rubbish next time around).

It was all so… *weird*,
and he wasn’t sure how any of it could have happened. Well, he technically did
(the gem felt as though it was burning a hole in his pocket), but it was a
bizarro scenario that he’d never even considered a possibility – let alone that
it’d actually happen to him.

“You know how you tell me to not mess around?” ‘Anna asked
right after Aaron had scorched another part of the ceiling with another laser.
Aaron winced, but replied:

“Yeah?”

“Isn’t this messing around?” She asked. Aaron pondered the
question, but eventually an answer came to him.

“No, it isn’t.” He said. “This is, uh… this is
experimentation. Testing stuff out. Science, I guess.”

“What’s even the difference?” ‘Anna asked him in no
uncertain terms, trying to tap on the datapad while wearing a thick pair of
gloves (because Aaron wasn’t taking any chances). Aaron would have placed a
hand on her shoulder in an expression of “listen here, young one”, but even
though he knew it’d technically be safe, the gesture still made him nervous, so
he settled for placing the hand on his *own*
hip as he imparted his wisdom.

“To make messing around into science,” he said, “you write
it down.”

If the expression on ‘Anna’s face (or what he could see of
it behind the balaclava and ski goggles he had bribed her into wearing with an
ice lolly) was anything to go by, this had given her an easy out on any future
endeavours into messing around, and was probably the wrong thing to say in the
long run. Ah, well. He’d have done the same thing at her age anyway, and there
were more important things for him to worry about at that point.

“You’ve only been using your hands so far.” ‘Anna suddenly
pointed out, voice muffled but still hearable behind the balaclava. “What if
you tried with other parts of your body?”

“Other parts…?” As he considered the idea, Aaron felt a
little of his eagerness fade away to be replaced with his former anxiety.
Hands, at least, were things he could somewhat control. And hey, if worst came
to worst, he could *technically* live
without them. That wasn’t the same with all of the other-

“Maybe you could shoot lasers out of your eyes!” ‘Anna almost
yelled, clearly not picking up on her brother’s nerves and slight emotional
turmoil.

“I mean… maybe.” He admitted, uneager to admit out loud that
he was nervous. “Let’s just keep trying with this, okay? Have you been writing
stuff down!”

“Yeah.” ‘Anna held out the datapad, and Aaron wandered over
for a closer look. Sure as eggs, his sister had been noting down what
substances he could produce, as well as what position his hands were in at the
time. (It wasn’t especially thorough – he wasn’t sure how many people would
know what the “spook position” was in terms of hands – but for all he knew, it
could be a good way to talk about this sort of thing in the open without people
finding out.)

Of course, it was this train of thought that led to his next
big worry: people knowing. Of course, it would be hard to keep a secret (and
some people he had no intention of hiding it from), but it was still a scary
thing to think about being known. If it became public-? The Paradox faction (a
branch of the Nexus Force) were known for researching maelstrom. What would
they make of him? Would they drag him away from everyone he knew and loved, and
keep him as a test subject for the rest of his life? The Sentinel faction (his
own branch) were famous for a totally intolerant, kill-on-sight kind of view of
the maelstrom. If he kept producing maelstrom like this, would they just kill
him? And what if he ended up infecting someone by mistake? What if people began
to see him differently? What if-?

“What the-?” He heard ‘Anna say as his shaking legs gave out
from him, and he stumbled, crashing onto the living room’s sofa. “Aaron! Aaron!
You’re okay, right? You’re okay?”

He shook his head, not wanting to lie about something like
this (and not thinking he could anyway). “Scared.” He admitted. “People- the
maelstrom- what if they…”

“Oh, boy.” He felt ‘Anna pat him on the back awkwardly.
“This is really, uh… this is something else, isn’t it?”

He nodded, only dimly aware of his sister’s presence. She
kept patting him on the back.

“You’ll feel better.” She said, so certain that it was going
to happen that he couldn’t help but believe it a little bit himself. “You’ll
feel better.”

“Thanks.” He told her, breathing in heavily. “Man, this is…
this is scary. I won’t lie.”

“Scarier than cockroaches?” ‘Anna asked him. He sniggered,
despite himself, at the memory of how badly he’d freaked out when he’d seen a
cockroach on the floor of their flat (Plue had eventually taken care of it).

“Maybe so.” He admitted. “Maybe so. Do you think it is?”

He’d kind of gathered, based on her reactions so far, but it
was still kind of jarring to see ‘Anna shake her head.

“Nope.” She said. “I think it’s cool.”

Man, talk about a paradigm shift.

““Cool”?” He repeated, trying not to sound *too* incredulous and discourage her.
Still weird, though, considering that the maelstrom in general was kind of a
scourge on the whole system and seen as an annoyance at best by every single
human being to ever live. “Are you, uh, are you sure there?”

‘Anna nodded. “That’d be useful in a fight, or something,
right? You can go like-” She made claw motions with her hands. “You can go all,
“whoosh”, and they’ll go “blaargh”” (she switched to dramatically writing
around on the ground and clutching her chest in an impression of someone
apparently being burnt alive, which was… disturbing). “Or, you could be like!”
She held out her hand like she was about to give a high-five, and mimed firing
off the laser blasts that he’d been able to use. “Pt-choo! Pt-choo!” Her words
dissolved into garbled impressions of lasers.

He sighed, forcing a smile. “Never change, ‘Anna.” He told
her. “Never change.”

If ‘Anna heard him, she didn’t act as if she had –
apparently lost in her fantasy, she kept right on with the whole “pretending to
fight people using maelstrom powers” shtick. Definitely wasn’t the best
backdrop to calm down and think, but Aaron figured that he could manage.

Okay, based on fear of exactly what would happen to him, it
was probably best to keep his abilities on the downlow… for the foreseeable
future? Indefinitely? Certainly, it wasn’t like he had any plans to announce
them and his freakishness to the world. He would definitely have to tell Plue,
though. Both because she deserved to know and would probably get upset if he *didn’t* tell her something like this, and
also because they lived together and it’d be hard to hide them from her anyway.
And telling Will was probably a good idea as well. His best friend was normally
very willing to provide wise counsel, which was something that he could use
bucketloads of in a situation such as this.

So. Seeing as he wasn’t planning on turning himself over for
testing and/or death, it was probably in his best interests to figure out
exactly how to control his abilities, and as soon as possible. He’d never be
able to live with himself if he ended up getting one of his loved ones infected
– especially if it were to stem from his own decision to hide his powers. So
he’d have to work on that.

Also, what ‘Anna had said about using the powers in a fight
struck a chord with him. Would fighting maelstrom with maelstrom even work?
Hypothetically it ought to, right? He thought about it. If a person was struck
by normal lightning, or touched normal fire, it would still *hurt* them, even if it wasn’t infectious
or toxic to them. Wouldn’t it work the other way around, in that his maelstrom
stuff would hurt maelstrom entities? It was probably worth a *try*, at least. He filed the idea away
for later.

And then there was the gem… he withdrew it to stare at him
again, looking at the room through the warped and purple-y viewpoint it gave
him. The edges were almost sharp enough to poke himself on, like a weapon,
which didn’t bode well… he sighed. So, touching the shiny had given him a slew
of basically evil (at the very least, corruptive) abilities. That raised a lot
of questions about the shiny in question – what was it, where did it come from,
why could it give people abilities like that, et cetera et cetera.

Perhaps the gem, at least, was something he could bring to a
wider attention. If he gave it to them to study- but no, no, he didn’t want to do that. Did he?

Why not?

Why?

Suddenly sporting a headache, he leant back on the sofa and
stared at the blacked areas of the ceiling. Oh, yeah, he definitely had to do
something about *those*.

“So!” ‘Anna had finally stopped jumping around and making
odd noises. “What *are* you gonna do? You
gonna fight?”

He considered the question again, and also considered how he
could phrase the situation when trying to explain it to her.

“Well,” he said hesitantly, “I *technically* could, I just… it…” Words. They were normally so much
easier. “Like…”

“You fight anyway though, right?” ‘Anna asked, sitting on
the sofa next to him and wriggling around as she tried to get comfortable in
all her layers. “Like, that’s your job. Go to places and fight.”

Well, she was technically correct, but – oh. Oh. He had just
remembered something.

“I can’t fight on the battlefields anyway.” He said.
“Because of this. I mean-” he vaguely indicated at his body. “They don’t know
about the powers, but nobody did until just now. They know about the fact that
I *produce* maelstrom, though, and
they’ve said that I can’t go back onto the battlefield until its all sorted
out, because its not healthy. Or… or something.”

‘Anna pulled the goggles off of her face as she listened to
his explanation – he could clearly see her frown.

“Okay.” She said, sort of admitting defeat. “But you could
still use them to fight… uh…”

“There’s nothing *to*
fight here, though.” Aaron reminded her. “The whole point of Nimbus Station is
that its too well-defended for the maelstrom to break into.”

Now ‘Anna looked almost upset, and *that* wasn’t fair, because how was he supposed to look at that sad
little face without trying to compromise in some ultimately dangerous way?

“I mean…” He stumbled over his words. “I mean, it’s, uh,
it’s a cool idea, but if I tried to go to the battlefield, they’d notice.
Surely. They’d notice and I’d probably get in trouble and it’s just not worth
it.”

He felt frustration pooling in the pit of his stomach, and
it wasn’t just because his sister was upset. For all he may have fobbed of
certain aspects of life (like staying alive), he had joined the Nexus Force out
of a genuine desire to help people and do good. Being essentially grounded made
logical sense to him, but it still frustrated him to know that there was
nothing he could do.

He had been sitting still for about five minutes after hours
of messing around with what were essentially superpowers, and his foot was
already beginning to bounce up and down with latent nervous energy.

Damn it.

It was at that moment that two things happened: Plue opened
the door to get back inside after her meeting, and Aaron remembered the burn
marks still blatantly visible on the ceiling. If that wouldn’t have been hard
enough to hide by itself, ‘Anna proceeded to jump up and run (well, “waddle”
would probably be more appropriate) over to Plue, announcing very loudly that
he had superpowers and they had been using them all afternoon. Technically
something that could have been passed off as a children’s game… but that would
have been a lie.

He sighed. Best to face the music and get it over with.

Sauntering into the hallway, where Plue was staring at her
coat (still on the peg) as if wondering where it had gone, he tried his best to
contort his face into a casual expression.

“Hello, *Amica mea*.”
He said, taking Plue’s hand and pressing their foreheads together in greeting.
She hummed, and – after a moment where she hesitated, and he grabbed his jacket
and threw it back onto his arms – wrapped her arms around him in an embrace.

“I love you.” She murmured into his shoulder, before leaning
back from the embrace and fixing him with a quizzical smile. “Why does ‘Anna
look like she’s wearing all the clothes in the house?”

“You might not be far off.” He admitted, watching as ‘Anna
bumped into a wall and fell over. “It’s a… safety protocol.”

“Really?” Plue walked over to Anna and hoisted her back up
onto her feet, before pulling off two jackets. “Seems counterproductive.”

“Seems rational.” He countered, walking past them and back
into the living room, sinking back onto the sofa for good measure. He let out a
heavy sigh, staring up at the ceiling. He heard Plue walk into the room, but
didn’t turn his head to look at her until he heard her audible gasp.

“Oh, what the *cuss*
is that?” She said, darkly. “What the actual cuss is that? Is that a burn? How
did that get there?”

‘Anna, who was still wriggling out of all of her protection,
began to laugh. Plue turned to her – Aaron could see that she was low-key
smiling, but her arms were folded and it was clear that she was trying to play the
part of responsible adult.

“You think it’s funny?” She asked ‘Anna, who responded by
laughing even harder. “You think this thing is funny?” She turned to Aaron –
half laughing, half angry, half incredulous. (Maybe not half. Maybe, like, a
third for each.) “You think this thing is funny too?” She asked him. He almost
felt bad about not getting in on the joke, but he figured that this was
something he had to be… at least moderately serious about.

“I’d like to.” He admitted, before looking Plue in the eyes.
“But we… actually need to talk about it.”

The humour faded from the scene. Plue nodded, suddenly
looking a hell of a lot more like the stern and decisive leader she was
training to be.

“Okay.” She said.

Thus followed a brief blow-by-blow of everything that Aaron
had discovered. The fact that he could produce maelstrom, and in different
ways. Borrowing the datapad from ‘Anna, he showed Plue the notes that she had
made on them, and cited the scorch marks and bin full of maelstrom-y webbing as
his proof. Finally, he brandished the gem (without letting Plue touch it, of
course), explaining how his abilities seemed to be linked to it. How he’d found
it in the caves… and that he’d been taking kind of a short cut… and done
something kind of stupid… and that that was probably why these things were
happening.

Plue flicked his ear.

“Okay, I deserved that.” He admitted as she folded her arms
and *glowered* at him, her soulful
green eyes narrowing in what he hoped was less actual anger and more
exasperation.

“Aaron. Roger. Wilder.” She said through gritted teeth. “You
are a magnificent, grade-A *dumbo*, and
as it stands, I’m less surprised that it’s your own fault and more surprised
that you’re still alive to tell the tale.”

He winced a bit, and her gaze softened.

“Even if I’m just glad to see you alive.” She added, before
getting all business-like again. “Well, I suppose it’s too much to hope that
you’ve learnt your lesson this time, but that’s the good thing about this leave
you’re being forced into. You physically can’t do much else without getting in
a whole load of trouble for it from *medical*
personnel*, of all people.”*

He raised an eyebrow. “And you’re emphasising that
because…?”

“Because I’ve met medical personnel who take their jobs very
seriously, and would take to someone like you mucking around and hurting
themselves very badly.” Plue explained. “So, I really wouldn’t recommend
anything.”

“Evil woman.” He grumbled, trying to sound amiable – and
probably failing, because, like, this *wasn’t*
what he needed to hear when he was feeling stir-crazy already. Hurrah. Affirmation
that he couldn’t, in fact, do anything.

Plue must have picked up on at least some of his
unhappiness, because she patted his shoulder in a sympathetic manner.

“Maybe this is a good thing.” She suggested. “Maybe, now
that you have some personal time and are forbidden from doing dangerous things,
you can… I dunno. Find something you enjoy doing that *doesn’t* put your life and limb at risk.”

“…Maybe.” He conceded. He had a sneaking suspicion that both
of them knew it was unlikely, but it was nice of her to think of the positives
in his situation, at any rate. Especially when he considered the fact that his
condition may well have been the death of him yet.

“And… what if, whatever this is… what if it doesn’t get
better? What if…?” He didn’t finish, hit once again with an uncomfortable sense
of his own mortality.

“Well…” Plue hesitantly, obviously uncomfortable with the
idea as well. Then, she perked up. “At least I’ll have something better to
write on your tombstone than “died in a horrific accident involving a cafeteria
tray and a mobility scooter”.”

Aaron laughed loudly, expelling some of his pent-up nervous
energy. “Oh, I’d really hoped you’d forgotten about that.” He admitted. Plue
turned to him with an expression that assured him she’d *never* forget about it.

“I remember every detail like it was yesterday.” She said,
putting on a melodramatic voice. “I think I still have the grey hairs.”

He waved her off, still laughing.

The rest of their afternoon passed uneventfully – Plue
switched on the television and huddled on the sofa with ‘Anna, tired after her
impromptu meeting. Aaron was left with the task of cleaning up the maelstrom-y
debris – not as easy as it sounded (not that it really sounded all that easy to
begin with, he personally reckoned). After finally burying the webbing in the
very midst of the rubbish, he set off on a fruitless search for paint all
throughout the house (to paint over the scorch marks). Not finding any, he
settled for taping some paper to the ceiling as a makeshift cover-up – just
until one of them could remember to go and get actual paint at some point.

Eventually, he let himself practically collapse on the sofa
next to the girls. It was hardly the most composed way to sit, but it had been
a stressful day. Who could blame him? And, more importantly, who really cared?
Not Plue, that was for sure – who almost immediately made a move closer to him.

“Wait.” He said. “My wounds-”

“Are there any exposed?” She asked. He gave himself a quick
once-over. A couple of still-mauve scratches still on his upper arm, but he
that could be solved by putting his arm around her. He raised his arm.

“We’re good.” He said. A second later, her head was on
shoulder.

They sat for a while, watching a news report about
increasing crime rates. Nice and macabre. He normally wouldn’t have paid much
attention to something like that, but the exhaustion of the day had gotten to
him to the point where he was willing to sit and suck in the bad news. Which
was… really saying something.

“That’s what today’s meeting was about.” Plue said abruptly,
shaking Aaron out of the almost fugue state he was in.

“What?” He managed to oh-so-intelligently ask. Plue nodded
towards the TV.

“Crime rates.” She clarified. “That’s what Duke called me in
to talk about.”

He nodded dumbly. She apparently drew from this the need to
clarify herself.

“It’s like…” She paused to blow her bangs out of her eyes.
He saw her hair float up for a moment out of the corner of his eyes. “There’s
local law enforcement, obviously, but beyond that it’s basically Sentinel’s job
to take care of this stuff. Our faction’s job. So, we ended up talking about
how to handle that aspect of leading the faction.” She shrugged. “I mean, I’d
known about it, but I hadn’t really thought about it until now. It was
interesting.”

“Huh.” Aaron mused, filling in the silence with some basically
meaningless words. “That’s… that’s something.”

What he said was, at least, true. It certainly *was* something. ‘Anna’s advice – to use
his abilities to fight thing – had stayed with him because of course, how cool
would it be to use the maelstrom to fight the maelstrom? But the idea of
fighting actual people with the maelstrom had struck him as well. His first
reflex was *no, of course not, I’d get*
into trouble and that would almost definitely kill people*. But it was as*
though rejecting the idea didn’t matter as, against all logic, the idea was
becoming more and more appealing in his head the more he thought about it.

He couldn’t help but feel bad for Plue, because as he kept
watching the reel footage accompanied by a monotone narration of how Nimbus Station
was slowly being throttled by interior crime and corruption, he couldn’t shake
the feeling that the bright side she’d tried to look at wasn’t going to mean
all that much – and that circumstance wouldn’t be able to stop him from doing
something stupid and self-endangering anyway.

### ***CHAPTER 4: TESTING, TESTING (1 2 3)***

By the time that Overbuild’s assistant visited for his first
check-up, Aaron had done a great many things. He had researched the areas where
crime was most frequent, as well as the quickest routes through them. He’d
researched costume design, and had begun sketching out some rough ideas for
outfits (because if he was really going to do this, he was going to do it with *style*). He was thinking something…
purple, at least as far as colour schemes went. Also, lightweight. He didn’t
plan on sticking around in places for very long. He hadn’t made an absolute
final version or anything but he was having ideas, at least. Being productive.
Taking Plue’s advice (well, sort of).

He’d also kept testing his powers – getting a better handle
on them, to make sure that he didn’t actually use them like how he had the
first time, with ‘Anna. His personal favourite thing to do was shoot fire, just
because he figured it had the most appealing aesthetic. It was also what he
found the easiest to control. On his second full day out of the hospital, Plue
found him trying to juggle clumps of fire in the living room, and promptly
retreated, claiming that she was surely going to be driven to drink at some
point in the near future.

Why the maelstrom he could produce took the form of fire and
lighting and lasers and webbing *specifically*,
he wasn’t sure. He figured that it was a question that the Nexus Force could
answer – but then again, he didn’t intend to reveal his powers to them due to
general fears of imprisonment, experimentation, and death (not necessarily in
that order). So he accepted that – but he couldn’t help but wonder if there was
anything else that he could do. (‘Anna had wondered the same thing – it was
like they were related or something.)

There had been one occasion where he’d been trying to
channel his power into his feet (to see if he could, like, propel himself
through the air with jets of fire, because that would have come in useful), and
he had ended up sinking into the floor as his legs has dissolved into a thick
and smoking shadow. He had panicked and pulled himself out of the ground, but
now he had a new curiosity – what would happen if he became a complete shadow?
Would it be useful? Or would he just die?

He didn’t have the nerve to find out just yet.

On the plus side, the last of his scrapes and wounds had
been healing nicely, meaning that he had had to be less cautious with physical
contact – which was nice, because he was someone who tended to like physical
contact a lot, and limiting himself had had a bad effect on his morale. He
hadn’t made it completely out of the woods, but he *had* improved. So that was… nice.

When it came to his whole “condition”, Plue continued to
remain calm, and ‘Anna continued to be very enthusiastic. Both mindsets were
really nice to see. Will had also dropped in once each day since his release,
and had remained compassionate and open-minded whilst still getting in the
occasional “I told you so”. Aaron hadn’t told him about his maelstrom abilities
yet, which he was beginning to feel guilty about, but he wasn’t sure exactly
how he could phrase it (whatever he’d said to Plue, he’d forgotten almost
immediately afterwards), and the cowardly part of him figured that it didn’t
matter anyway because Will didn’t live with them.

In short: things hadn’t been perfect, but they’d been going
about as swimmingly as he could have expected – which was probably why he’d
forgotten about the check-ins that Overbuild had scheduled for him. When he
heard a knock on the door, he fell off the sofa (which he’d been standing on)
with a cry of “fartknuckles!”. ‘Anna, who’d been watching his sofa-standing
exploits with interest, was the one who opened the door. In the back of his
mind, he filed away the fact that she’d opened without checking who it was
first, and that it was on him to make sure she knew to do that – but most of
his focus was on the woman who wandered into his flat, wearing a shirt so
bright orange it made his eyes hurt, and baggy trousers with more pockets than
even he would have known what to do with. She had an official-looking lanyard
around her neck, and a bunch of freckles strewn over the bridge of her nose.

“Hello.” She said as she caught sight of him, holding out a
hand. “My name’s Kaylori, I’m here for your check-up.” He shook her hand, still
surprised, but not wanting to be rude. The skin around her fingers was
calloused, but her palms were a lot less rough. Not like Plue, he idly noted,
whose hands were *wholly* rough from
typing documents, firing a bow, and holding a sword.

Their hands shook. ‘Anna’s gaze flew from one to the other,
like she wasn’t quite sure what this strange woman was doing there. Made sense
– it was an entirely new person.

“Good to meet you.” He said, not entirely lying. He had
nothing against meeting a new person, really. The anxiety he was feeling
(because he *was* feeling it, if that
butterfly-ish sensation in his stomach was anything to go by) was probably due
to the fact that he still wanted to keep the abilities he now had under wraps,
and he still didn’t feel one hundred percent like he could control them yet. He
just had to… make no sudden moves with his hands, he supposed.

She nodded, letting his hand go and taking off the jacket
she was wearing, making to hang it on a coat peg. She paused and turned back to
him. “May I…?”

He nodded. She tossed it, and it neatly caught on one of the
higher pegs.

“Nice.” He complimented, envious. Whenever *he* tried to do that, he’d miss the peg
and the coat would knock at least one *other*
coat off the rank, and it’d end with a mess that he’d have to clear up.

Kaylori shrugged in response. “I’d be lying if I said it
worked all the time.” Personal detail apparently shared, her gaze hardened a
little, and she withdrew from the inner pocket of her jacket a datapad with the
Assembly faction logo on the back.

“This shouldn’t take too long.” She told him. “First of all,
is your body still emitting maelstrom?”

He nodded yes, as a response. She nodded back.

“Okay. Are any of your wounds still open? It’d be best if I
had photographic evidence.”

He obliged, turning around and rolling his shirt up and over
his back – where he knew there was a deep scrape that had yet to heal properly.
He heard the *snap* noise of a
photograph being taken, and then a noise of affirmation from Kaylori. He let
his shirt drop.

“The other thing I need from you is a statement.” She said.

“A statement?” He repeated, as per his habit of repeating
statements that he didn’t like in order to buy himself time to process them.
Thankfully, Kaylori didn’t know that that was something he did, so she nodded
obligingly.

“A statement.” She confirmed. “What I mean by that is that I
need you to describe your condition – how things have been going so far,
whether there have been any new developments, et cetera et cetera.”

He hoped he didn’t look as nervous as he felt.

“Well, there’s- there’s nothing new.” He said. “I’m still…
still, uh, producing maelstrom, and I don’t feel any different. My wounds and
stuff are healing, I guess, but beyond that, I- uh- yeah.” He finished lamely.
“That’s that.”

“That’s that?” She repeated, as if she was dissatisfied with
his answer. *Shoot*.

“That’s that on that!” He said, instantly feeling like a
fool. But it seemed to be effective enough – Kaylori didn’t look suspicious,
and her shrug was more apathetic than anything else.

“Alright, well, I can’t argue with that.” She said – and was
that a grin? Did she have a sense of humour? The expression disappeared almost
as soon as it had appeared, so he couldn’t say for sure, but suddenly his
future seemed brighter. Anyone with a sense of humour was someone he could get
along with. And getting along with people was nice.

She grabbed her jacket off of the peg and opened the door,
stepping out into the corridor.

“I’ll be back in three days.” She said, presumably as a
reminder. “Assembly policy requires that you don’t get yourself killed or
maimed over that timeframe.”

Now he was just confused. “Was – was that a joke?”

“See you then.” She turned and began to walk back to the
exit, ignoring his question. After pondering whether or not that *had* been a joke for too long, he shut
the door.

“Well.” He said out loud. “That went well.”

“Who was that?”

Turning around, he saw ‘Anna peeking out from the entrance
to the kitchen, where she’d apparently been watching the whole proceedings. He
wondered for a moment if she’d show up in the photo Kaylori had taken – head
barely peering out from behind the doorframe, looking like a regular cryptid.
He kind of hoped she did – it’d entertain whoever was monitoring him, at any
rate.

“A woman from the Assembly faction.” He said as a response,
beginning to walk back to the living room. As he walked (and sat down on the
sofa), he continued his explanation. “They said they’d send someone over every
three days to keep an eye on my condition.” He fixed her with a “you know the
one” sort of gaze, but it didn’t do anything to the downright pensive
expression ‘Anna had on her face. Then, she looked up at him.

“You lied.” She said, sharply.

In a mixture of melodrama and genuine panic, Aaron clutched
at his heart and rolled off of the sofa, landing awkwardly on the floor. Oof,
being called out by a ten-year-old was painful, especially considering that she
definitely wasn’t wrong.

“You’re not supposed to lie!” ‘Anna continued. BIGGER oof.
He winced. On the one hand – his sister was clearly growing up with good
morals, and he was proud of her. On the other hand, the whole concept of “white
lies” (did this even count as a white lie? Heck) and the generally grey nature
of truth was something that he wasn’t eager to explain.

That being said, if ‘Anna took it upon herself to be
truthful, and tell Kaylori about his abilities the next time she visited…

He sat up and crawled over to his sister, eventually
reaching her and placing his hands on her shoulders – not too tightly,
obviously, but just so he could help her focus on him and what he wanted to
say.

“’Anna.” He said, trying to keep his voice neutral (and not,
like, stern and angry, because that wasn’t the message he was going for right
now). “I need you to promise that you don’t tell that woman anything about my
maelstrom powers.”

“Isn’t that lying?” She asked. He shook his head.

“Not if she doesn’t ask you, technically.” He pointed out.
She looked mostly understanding, if still a bit confused, so he ventured on.
“Look, it’s a matter of safety and a matter of personal privacy that she
doesn’t know. And also-” He had an idea. “And also a matter of fairness. You
see, Will doesn’t know yet, and he’s my best friend. Normally, having a best
friend means you trust them with things you don’t trust other people with.”

“But you haven’t told him.” ‘Anna pointed out.

“I haven’t.” Aaron said. “But I will at some point. And it’s
not fair that Kaylori finds out before he does, because he’s my best friend and
she isn’t. So, until I tell Will, we can’t tell Kaylori, okay? It wouldn’t be
fair.”

‘Anna considered what he was saying for a moment longer –
and then nodded. Thank goodness. “Okay.” She said. “Okay, I can do that. I can
not tell her.”

“Atta girl.” Aaron kissed her forehead and ruffled her hair
before standing back up. “It means a lot.”

“I’ve got your back!” She responded, punching a fist in the
air with an infectious gusto.

“Yeah!” He punched the air himself – and sent a column of
fire right into the ceiling.

Once he’d cleaned away the burns with soap and paint and one
of his old pairs of underpants (that were never getting worn again, no thank
you), he spent the rest of the day as he had the first two – planning out the
details of being a vigilante and figuring out how to control his powers. (Because
if he had to take care of one more scorch mark, he was going to… not literally
do anything. But it wouldn’t be nice.)

Plue returned home late that night, to the sight of ‘Anna
asleep on the floor (having tired herself out laughing), and Aaron stuck to the
wall by one of his own webs. It had practically fastened his wrist to the
plaster around half an hour previously, and he hadn’t been able to tug himself
free. It was strong – stronger than one of those zip-tie things he’d have put
around his wrist whenever he went to a public event (and those things were
brutal).

“Do I even want to ask?” Plue groaned, resting a hand on her
forehead in a gesture of hopelessness and peeking through her fingers a moment
later. “Or do I just want to sit down and enjoy the show?”

“I’d go for option C: helping me out of here.” Aaron
replied. “I haven’t cooked anything, and I can’t reach the phone to order
takeaway, so you’re probably gonna starve.” He said this as a reference to two
things: one, Plue could not cook and had never had a desire to learn (she’d
tried before, but they’d all almost been killed, so that was never happening
again), and two: she was very uncomfortable with talking to people on the
phone, meaning that normally Aaron was the one who handled the flat’s outgoing
calls.

“Not unless we’re out of crackers.” Plue retorted, she herself
referencing the one snack she was adept at throwing together – crackers and
butter. She flung open the door to their food cupboard and peered into it for a
few seconds. Then, she closed it again. And frowned. “We’re out of crackers.”

“Such is strife.” Aaron remarked. “Now, any chance you can
help me get free? I think my fingers are going numb.” He didn’t even have to
exaggerate – they really were.

Plue rolled her eyes – but she was smiling.

“Okay, let’s see what I can do.” She said, wondering up to
him. Aaron flinched.

“Uh- maybe you don’t want to… to touch it yourself?” He
reminded her cautiously.

Plue paused. Breathed in. Breathed out. Closed her eyes,
then opened them. She was psyching herself up. Oh-

“Plue, don’t do it.” He said. “We have *no idea* what’ll happen, and I…” He trailed off. “*I don’t know what I’d do if you got infected and died and it was my fault*” went unsaid and merely implied. But Plue
seemed to be genuinely considering it.

“Well,” she reasoned, “if you can manipulate the energy,
there’s every chance that you could uninfect me.” She reached out – but looked
at him, and hesitated. He wasn’t sure what his facial expression must have been
at that moment, but it can’t have been anything good.

“Please.” He said. “Please don’t.”

She stepped back. “Okay.” She said. “I won’t. Just let me…
let me find some scissors, or something and some thick gloves.” She leant in
again – presumably as close as she dared – and pecked him on the cheek.

Aaron released a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been
holding. “I’m sorry.” He breathed, as the adrenaline faded and left him feeling
both relieved and cowardly.

“*I’m* sorry.” Plue
corrected. “It was my idea. I…” she trailed off, rubbing the back of her neck.
“I’ll go get the stuff.” She tried for a smile. “Don’t go anywhere?”

He laughed nervously as the joke hit him. “Don’t count on
it, sunshine.”

She waved before diving out of sight as she went to collect
her supplies, leaving him alone to think. It wasn’t like there was much else to
do anyway. She had made a good point – he had wanted to know, desperately,
whether or not he’d actually be infectious. At least, the maelstrom he
produced. Part of it was just a general weight on his mind – his condition had
probably made him far more dangerous, especially to live with, but he wanted to
know how much more dangerous. How careful would he have to be?

There was also the vigilante thing. Restraining or fighting
people was one thing, killing them via maelstrom infection was another. If he
couldn’t use his powers without sentencing everyone they came into contact with
to death-? Well, it definitely wouldn’t give him any good PR.

No, he decided as Plue returned wearing an oven mitt and
brandishing shears, whether or not his abilities were infectious was something
he definitely wanted to know. But one thing was for sure: he wasn’t going to
test it on anyone he cared about.

Just to be safe.

### ***CHAPTER 5: LIES BY OMISSION***

Feeling anxious was nothing new. Feeling an anxiety either
related to or caused by one Aaron Wilder was nothing new either. And yet, Will
mused as he meandered along the street on his way to Aaron and Plue’s
apartment, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something really quite bad was
brewing on the horizon.

It had been almost a week since Aaron had been released from
the hospital, with the medical personnel being unable to find much reason to
keep him in, seeing as how he wasn’t being infected by the maelstrom he was
producing. Will, for his part, thought it was stupid. What if the situation
changed? What if the maelstrom he produced was infectious? What if, what if
what if. It seemed too big a thing to be flippant about, that was for sure. Of
course, he wasn’t a professional. What did he know?

Well. Perhaps professionals sacrificed their common sense
for the sake of knowledge, or something like that.

Will waved his hand as the automatic doors to the block of
flats opened, pretending that he was opening them himself with telekinetic
powers. An old game that he’d used to play, and one that he’d never grown out of.
The carpets were a vivid red, the walls a deeper shade of crimson and coated
with velvet. It looked a little bit like the entrance to some kind of hell,
though the effect was spoiled by the blinking blue lights of the smoke
detectors blipping on and off in the hallway. Or were they security cameras?
He’d never been too sure.

Nonchalantly whistling as he kept walking, and beginning to
trek up the stairs, he reckoned that he looked more relaxed than he really
felt. Aaron’s accident had been weighing on his mind for a while, and with it
had been Will’s guilt. He should have tried harder to stop Aaron from going
through the caves, he reckoned. Rationally, he knew that it was mostly Aaron’s
fault, and that he’d always been difficult to really stop once he’d gotten an
idea stuck in his head – but even so, Will still felt guilty for not even
making an attempt to stop him. Instead, he’d vaguely protested before giving up
and blaming Aaron’s nature, while simultaneously assuming that Aaron’s luck –
which was scarily good – would see him through yet another stupidly dangerous
scenario unscathed. Except, of course, it hadn’t. Whatever exactly *had* happened to Aaron – infected, or
made some kind of source of maelstrom – most definitely counted as getting
scathed.

Still, the situation could have definitely been worse. Aaron
could have been outright dead. Will had feared that that had been the case for
a while.

The concept of death, Will mused as he continued to walk up
the stairs, was one that he for the most part was just afraid of. He’d never
pondered it too hard, but he had often let his thoughts drift unto both death
and whatever came next, if anything at all. He had no way of knowing, and that
was something that disgruntled him. So, his game plan in general was to not die
– a game plan that he surely had in common with a lot of other people – but it
extended to not letting the people he cared about die, either. His parents.
Aaron and ‘Anna. All of the other friends he’d made over the course of his life
thus far.

He shook his head, slightly. That was enough of the macabre
thoughts. He was here to visit a friend, not plan a funeral.

As he meandered towards the door that led into Aaron and
Plue’s flat, he caught sight of a woman in Assembly fatigues leaving the door.
He felt like he recognised her, and could presume that she was the person
responsible for the medical evaluations that Aaron had been scheduled to have
following the onset of his… condition.

She was relatively tall (although
her height was probably helped by the thick-soled boots she was wearing), and
her forearms were toned with a small amount of muscle. She was wearing a dark
jacket over an orange and white shirt, and cargo pants completed the look of
“researcher-slash-builder” that was the aesthetic of the Assembly faction.
Topped by a dark beret was hair the colour of caramel that was pulled back into
a bun.

As she turned
around after closing the door, he saw sharp dark eyes and freckles dotted all
along her face. It seemed cliché to compare freckles to stars in the sky, but
the way they spread out across her skin made the comparison feel necessary.

He kept walking, and casually raised a hand in greeting to
her. To his surprise, she stopped and held her own out, obviously expecting a
handshake.

“It’s Will, right?” She said. “Will Adalwin?”

He took her and shook it firmly up and down. Her grip was
strong.

“Charmed.” He said. “Are you Aaron’s…?”

“Yeah, I’m the one who checks on him every three days to
make sure nothing’s changed.” She summarized succinctly, letting go of his hand
and folding her arms as she eyes him. They were roughly the same height, he
noted. “I’m Kaylori Armstrong. And are you Aaron’s…?”

“Best friend.” He said. That was all that was necessary. She
nodded – as if in thought. Oh-oh. That was a concerning expression to see.

He contemplated asking her what the matter was, but held
back, figuring that if the issue was serious enough, she’d just bring it up
with him-

“Is it alright if I talk to you briefly?” She asked him.
“About Aaron?”

*Shit*. He eyed
their surroundings, looking for somewhere to… sit, or something. Maybe the
stairs?

“Is it okay if we discuss it here?” He asked. “How serious
is it?”

She waved him off casually. “It won’t take too long, I was
just wondering something.” She clarified. In her hands, she clutched a datapad
– where had it come from. Her expression was one of deep thought.

“Shoot.” He offered, standing back and leaning against the
wall in what he hoped was a casual sort of manner. Unfortunately, any attempt
to act like he wasn’t at least a little phased by the situation went out the
window when she said to him:

“I believe that Aaron is omitting details of his condition
from me.”

Will took a sudden breath and ended up almost choking on
air, but he forced himself to not react externally. That was- well, that was…

“That’s a serious accusation.” He said. She looked up in
surprise – obviously, whatever she’d been expecting his reaction to be,
defensiveness probably hadn’t been it. But still! He was Aaron’s friend. What
was he supposed to do in a scenario such as this, stand back and let the
accusation go unchallenged?

“I know.” Kaylori assured him, which made Will relax a bit.
At the very least, she didn’t appear to be making the accusation lightly. But
that raised a fresh concern in him – what if Aaron *was* concealing something? And if so, what was it? “But I figured
I’d ask you about it anyway, seeing as how you two are close: is there any
aspect to it that’s… I don’t know…” She shrugged. “Anything he’s told you that
he may have reason to hide?”

It was a fair question. Will found himself slightly torn. A
conflict of duty, it probably was: did he have a duty to the truth, and to
honesty and to getting his friend the best medical support possible; or did he
have a duty to said friend, to keep private information private? At least, it *would* have been that sort of conflict of
duty if it hadn’t been for one key detail.

“He hasn’t really told me anything either.” Will admitted.
“Aside from the rundown that we were given in the hospital, I don’t know anyt…”
He stopped, as a thought came to him. “Wait, he was studied for a week, right?
What if that’s just all it? What makes you think he’s keeping a secret?” By
this point, he wasn’t indignant, just curious. It seemed improbable. But
Kaylori shrugged.

“You’ve got a point.” She admitted. “Medically, I have no
reason to believe that there’s any unexplored aspect of his condition, or
anything that would give him reason to lie.” But her eyes narrowed again. “But
I also know people. And he’s fitting with all the tells of a person who isn’t
telling all the truth.” Will must have unconsciously raised an eyebrow or
something, because she looked at his face and then decided to elaborate. “He
won’t meet my eyes, he’s visibly uncomfortable whenever I try to get any
in-depth information…”

“Sounds more like introversion to me.” Will pointed out,
neglecting to mention the fact that Aaron was normally anything but
introverted. Kaylori sighed.

“I know.” She said. “That’s partially why I figured I’d ask
you about it. You know him. I don’t.”

He eyed her quizzically. On the one hand: it was nice to
meet someone who could explain their thought processes thoroughly and clearly,
after spending most of his formulative years as friends with Plue the stoic and
non-forthcoming, and Aaron the “my thought processes are unexplainable by anyone
with a semblance of logic in their head”. But his best friend senses were still
tingling, and he didn’t like this sort of curiosity really being directed at
anyone. He considered himself a man who appreciated the value of privacy. “Even
if that is the case – if you’ll forgive me for saying this – it still seems
like an extreme conclusion to come to after… two sessions?”

Kaylori looked a little bit like she’d been hit in the gut
with a sledgehammer.

“Well, I… I don’t think you’re wrong.” She admitted, before
sighing and dragging her hand across her face. “Okay, real talk: I am severely
anxious about this. Whether we know the full truth or not, Aaron’s condition is
unlike anything any of us have every scene, and there’s every chance that we
could make a crap ton of scientific discoveries, given time and consent to
research it thoroughly. So, I guess I’m just worried that we don’t know
everything, you know?”

“I know.” Will said. “But I’m worried too, and I don’t
suspect him of keeping anything from me.”

“Probably because it’s not your job to ask him questions
about it.” Kaylori said, bluntly. She huffed, clearly trying to keep her
frustration in check. He could appreciate that. He forced himself to not get
all techy, either.

“Well, I’m sorry I can’t help you.” He said, trying to sound
earnest. “But I don’t know any more than you and, in all honesty, I doubt I’d
tell you even if I *did* know.”

She glared at him, and he realised his mistake, but there
was no time to correct it as she nodded stiffly.

“I suppose that’s fair.” She said with a voice purposefully
devoid of emotion, before eying him one more time and then walking past him
towards the stairs. “Well, I’ll, uh… I’ll just go, I guess.”

Will clutched one arm with the other, not quite sure what to
say all of a sudden. “Yeah. Sounds good.”

She nodded. “It was nice to meet you. I think.” Her faced
dropped. “Shite subject matter, but that’s my fault, really.”

He didn’t trust himself to not say “Yeah, it is your fault”
(because it *was*), so he settled for a
shrug and a wave. She seemed to accept it, waving back before turning around
and striding down the stairs with all the energy of a woman with purpose. He
himself turned around and made his way to the door of the flat, hoping that the
issue would never come up again.

Of course, with his luck, it came up again immediately.

Well, to be fair, “immediately” was an exaggeration.
Initially, when he opened the door, all was well. ‘Anna ran to greet him,
calling him “Bill” (which was what she had called him as a toddler – the name
had stuck), hugging his legs, and asking why he hadn’t visited in so long. He’d
responded by telling her that he’d last visited yesterday, and she’d stuck her
tongue out at him and then run into the living room, where Aaron was.

He’d been sitting on the sofa. His hair, chestnut brown, had
been gelled up into wavy spikes again, as per his routine before the cave
incident. He was wearing a shirt and a pair of baggy trousers, and he looked a
disturbing combination of tired and energetic. It was bizarre – of course,
exhaustion and energy were two very conflicting states, but Aaron somehow
managed to look like he was ready to sleep where he sat whilst also like he was
about to jump up and dive out of the nearest window. It wouldn’t have been the
first time, at any rate. As Will entered the room, Aaron idly waved a hand. His
focus was on the ceiling it, and he was staring at it pensively. Will followed
his gaze.

There were numerous scraps of paper on the ceiling, as well
as areas that were clearly more freshly painted than everywhere else. The sight
didn’t set off any alarms, perse – the Wilder household was nothing if not
active – but it did have him wondering what exactly had happened.

“You look like crap.” He said, by way of greeting. Aaron
snort-laughed in response.

“I feel better than I look.” He said, and when he at last
turned to face Will, there was a smile – an earnest smile – on his face. “Still
not dead!”

“I thought it had been established that death wasn’t the
issue.” Said Will, sitting down on the sofa. When he’d first visited, he’d been
worried about picking up an infection, but it had quickly been established that
the infection risk wasn’t particularly high after ‘Anna had spent half an hour
latched onto her brother’s bare leg in some game.

“Yeah, but I figured I’d give you the full report to put
your nerves at ease.” Aaron spread his hands in a melodramatic gesture as he
lampshaded the fact that Will could clearly see that he was alive and kicking.

Will chuckled.

“So, ah, how is the old condition anyway?” He tried to match
Aaron for flippancy, but still felt a little awkward. He hadn’t asked about it
directly prior – hell, he probably wouldn’t have made conversation about it at
all if Kaylori hadn’t put the idea in his head.

Aaron shrugged. “Oh, it’s… y’know.” He sounded like he
didn’t want to talk about it.

“I mean, I don’t know because I don’t have it, but I’ll take
your word for it.” Said Will, not wanting to dig deeper. Who cared about it,
really? As long as his friend was safe. And healthy.

“But you *are* doing
okay?” He suddenly said, because he had to be *sure*.

“Yeah, mum, I’m fine.” Aaron rolled his eyes a little.

“Healthy?” Will pressed.

“Yee.”

“Being careful with infection?”

“Careful as a lactose-intolerant at a cheese tasting.”

“Nothing new come up?”

Aaron hesitated.

“…No.” He eventually said, but the pause had been long
enough to convince Will that something was up.

“No?” He repeated.

“No.” Aaron confirmed, now sounding surer about himself –
though he still wouldn’t meet Will’s eyes.

It was strange. It was very un-Aaron behaviour. Part of Will
wanted to give Aaron the benefit of the doubt and just forget about the whole
idea, but the rest of Will reminded him that the last time he’d just let things
go and let Aaron do what he wanted, he’d been almost killed in an abandoned
mine. That, as much as he’d come to be complacent and trust Aaron and his
instincts, it wasn’t as though everything would turn out fine if he just let it
happen.

“I understand.” Said Will, slowly. A technical truth – he
understood that Aaron was holding something back, and he figured he may have
even understood his reasoning. He was tempted to say something else afterwards
– press the subject more – but he didn’t dare. From the sounds of it, he had
just escaped a conversation with Kaylori where she had done the exact same
thing. If nothing else; he needed a break.

And that, he could manage.

### ***CHAPTER 6: FIELD TEST***

In Aaron’s defence, becoming a vigilante – a lawless crimefighter – didn’t
exactly have a how-to guide.

Neither, for that matter, did his powers.

He’d figured out the basics, like using fire and lasers and webs. And
the shadow thing – as it turned out, when he turned his entire body into
shadows, he *didn’t* die,
and actually became able to slink around any areas where shadows were cast. So, in a
dark room, he could dematerialize and kinda zoom around and then pop out
anywhere, but in a room that was fully lit, he wouldn’t be able to turn himself
into shadows at all.

Well,
that was okay, he hadn’t planned on making this a daytime gig anyway.

But
anyways; he still didn’t know if he could actually infect people and had no
intention of knowing, he didn’t know if he had any sort of limit, he didn’t
know if there was anything else he could do… kind of important stuff like that.
That being said, he was confident in what he did know, and he was a go-getter
and not a sit-arounder. And there had been enough sitting around already. It
was time to do things.

So,
that night, armed with a purple scarf around his face (to protect his identity
– no self-respecting hero just left their identity hanging out), and the gem
stowed away in his trouser pocket, he slung on some dark clothes and wandered
into the street, essentially looking for trouble. It felt like a very strange
thing to do, and yes, it was literally strange. But it was also strange in the
sense that his problem-solving methods in the past had always been more based around
“flight” then they had been around “fight”. As much as he’d joined the force to
help people, and wanted to do good, personally, he was definitely more inclined
to just getting the heck out of dodge if something went nuts-up. So, the fact
that he was just going around and waiting for bad stuff to happen, keeping an
eye out and seeking it out so that he could get involved? It was surreal, that
was for sure.

That being
said, however; it was also exciting. This strength that he now had, these
powers… in some respects, they’d been what he’d been waiting for his whole
life. He’d wanted to have that ability – to stand and fight, to make that
difference. He’d always idolized the real-life heroes, the mighty warriors
whose battle prowess had been able to catapult them into legend and who had
used their skills to save countless lives. People like Duke Exeter, leader of
his own faction (the Sentinels). And now, it looked as though he actually had
it. So, if he was walking with a little extra spring in his step, well, that
was to be expected, really.

However,
after a good couple of hours, that spring in his step had turned to more of a…
slouch…. in his… step? (That wasn’t a phrase.) As it turned out, Nimbus Station
was not, in fact, a crime-infested hellhole, and he was struggling to find any
sign of disaster or wrongs that needed righting. (And hell if that wasn’t just
a punch in the pants.)

Well, no. He
supposed it was a *good* thing if
nothing bad was happening, it just… wasn’t what he’d been hoping for. And oh,
man, now he felt like a jerk for *hoping* bad things
would happen. That was, like, the opposite of heroic. He knocked his knuckles
against his head deprecatingly. What was he doing??

A scream.

Aaron’s head
whipped around. Despite what his interior monologue would imply, he hadn’t
actually started mentally screaming yet, meaning that it had to be coming from
somewhere – some*one* – else.

What was
going on?

Galvanised,
he ran in the direction he’d heard the noise, rounding a corner and seeing what
was up immediately. And hey, it wasn’t as cliché as a mugging in an alleyway,
which was something. Well, it *was* a mugging,
but it was in the street instead (lit only by the dim orange glow of the
streetlamps) and it was quickly getting out of control by the way everything
looked- actually, scratch that. He hung back, and peered again. No, this was
way beyond a mugging.

One man –
wearing a mask and a black leather jacket – was holding another (wearing
neither of those things) by the hair, wrenching his head upwards and violently
waving a knife in the other hand. There were several other men nearby, various
degrees of armed, and a truck on the side of the pavement. From his viewpoint,
Aaron could also see that one of the doors on the back of the truck was open,
and there were a bunch of boxes inside.

Hoo boy. This
had gotten real sticky real fast. But there was no way he could back out now –
he just needed to figure out exactly what was happening, and also how to make
the best entrance possible.

The good news
was that in the dark of the night, there was plenty of shadows for him to work
with (which his turning-into-shadow powers apparently needed in order to work),
so without any further ado, he let himself – shudder – melt down into shadows
and begin to move, creeping along the edge of the pavement and staying out of
the way of the bright lights. It was,,, super duper weird, for lack of better
phrasing, to physically be a shadow. He had no limbs, no eyes, no senses – no
corporeal body at all, basically. And yet, he could still hear and see and move
himself around. Even as he watched, the guy let go of the other guy’s hair,
letting him drop to the ground and clutch at his scalp, moaning in pain. The
first guy (as in, the one who had been pulling the hair, and who Aaron was
vaguely sure was the bad guy in this scenario) proceeded to look around at the
other people standing by.

“I want this
one gone.” He growled, in a low guttural voice that made Aaron flash back to
when he’d watched a nature documentary a few days prior (specifically, to the
segment with the wolves), and did nothing for his overall confidence.

“Sir.” Came
another voice. A woman, also wearing a mask and a black jacket, stepped forward.
“I thought we didn’t want to leave any evidence behind.”

“And we’re
not.” Replied the bad guy. “Snap his neck, put the body in the truck. We’ll
dispose of it later.”

Aaron decided
that now was probably a good time to intervene.

Working off
of a little trick he’d ben testing earlier that day, he first shifted up the
shadows and onto the edge of the truck (just out of reach of the light), and
then reformed *part* of his body,
but not all of it. The result was that when the (presumed, but really, what else
were they if not) criminals looked back, they saw his torso, arms and head
seemingly sprouting from the back end of their vehicle.

“Stop right
there!” He intoned.

He wasn’t
quite sure what reaction he’d been expecting, but there was still something monumentally
satisfying at seeing this tough bunch scream in surprise and fear at the sight
of him.

“What the
hell?” Gasped the woman who’d spoken earlier. He ignored their exclamations and
continued on, now assured that he had all their attentions.

“I recommend
that you let that man go!” He ordered. “Lest you suffer the consequences!” The
“lest” was a bit of an inspired touch – he was still deciding on a lot of
things in regards to the “persona” of his vigilante self, but he’d figured he’d
first try out a personality reminiscent of an age-old hero, nobly fighting for
truth and justice. Though, of course, it would probably sound pretentious to
some. Still; wouldn’t know for sure if he didn’t try, right?

The leader,
instead of cowering, however, stepped forward with the knife in hand. “What
consequences are those, freakshow?” He asked, clenching the knife in a shaking
fist. Despite being unnerved, he was still willing to put up a fight – which
was definitely at least inconvenient. It was time for another show of power.

“You wouldn’t
want to find out.” Aaron threated, stretching his arm out to the side, and
then, with night but a thought, ignited it. Indigo maelstrom flames coated his
fist, curling and dancing around the palm of his hand in a more tangible and
dangerous show of force. Startled, the criminals took steps backwards, with the
closest even falling over backwards before scrabbling back up.

However, this
move also backfired. Just a tad. He’d been staying connected to the truck via
remaining partially shadow, and to do that, he needed dark conditions. And he’d
just lit a flame. Which produced light. The next sensation he felt was of his
stomach and then legs forcefully reforming and pushing themselves out of the
shadows as the light from his flame burned away at the shadows he’d been hiding
in. then, it was a quick and embarrassing fall to the ground. His shoulder
slammed into the tarmac of the road; his head knocked against the edge of the
pavement. Dazed, he blinked furiously as he fought to get his bearings.

Oops.

It was clear
from the lack of immediate reaction from the criminals that they hadn’t really expected
this, either. They milled about, uncertain as to what was happening. Perhaps they
suspected it was a ploy to lull them into a false sense of security, and that
nobody could really act like such a big idiot during what was supposed to be a
tense situation.

Well, Aaron
was sorry to disappoint.

“What *is* this?” He heard one of them ask. “Some kinda
stupid prank?”

He was beginning
to think the same thing. But his head had stopped spinning and one of them was
beginning to walk towards him, so he figured that it was probably time to get
up and actually do something, instead of lie on the pavement like an idiot.
(And, well, he *was* an idiot,
for sure, but that wasn’t what was important.)

Hastily clambering
to his feet – closing his eyes a moment as the world spun – he faced down the
presumed criminals.

“No pranks.”
He declared, spreading his arms out a little bit. “Just me.”

His one
advantage, he had to admit, was that these guys were even less sure as to what
was going on than he was – their confusion was probably the only reason he hadn’t
already been repeatedly stabbed. Perhaps it was the show of power…

Now that he
was on solid ground, and not phased into shadow, light shows were an option
again. This time, he flexed his fingers and let sparks dance up and down his
arms, illuminating him in what he hoped was an intimidating way. Unfortunately,
this time, he didn’t get as dramatic a reaction.

“Enough with
the light shows!” One of them pulled out a gun and pointed it squarely at him. “Quit
messing around. Who are you? What do you want?”

This was bad.
Shows of force were one thing, but Aaron still wasn’t sure about taking on this
many opponents at once. Either they’d kick his ass, or he’d accidentally infect
them with maelstrom and they’d all die. Or *both*. He held up his hands placatingly.

“I only know
so much about what’s happening here.” He told them. “But I can’t stand by and
watch when you were about to kill someone. Maybe we can talk this out – I don’t
know – but I won’t let you do it.”

“Oh my God.”
The leader, the bad guy, began to stomp up to Aaron with clenched fists. “It’s
a *do-gooder*.”

“Ah, you
sound familiar with my ilk.” Aaron quipped as he tried his best to *not* walk backwards at the sight of the bad guy
fast approaching him. “Let me guess, you don’t share my rigid moral compass.”

“Get out of
our way.” Responded the bad guy, reaching for him. Aaron responded by firing a
laser out of his palm at the man. Now, without context, this was an awful thing
to do, seeing as lasers are typically associated with piercing through objects,
and that he may well have killed the bad guy by doing so. However (through
practicing on an old lamp that he and Plue would have thrown away anyway),
Aaron had determined that the lasers he produced were less the traditional “slice
through and meld things” lasers, and more just amorphous bludgeoning attacks. As
such, when the laser hit the bad guy’s chest, it didn’t blast through him, but
it did fling him backwards.

“No.” Aaron
retorted, cleverly.

“The hell?”
One of the criminals said again, as their leader was flung through the air and
ungraciously skidded along the pavement.

“Who’s next?”
Aaron taunted, feeling his confidence swell. Beckoning with his fingers, he switched
his gaze from one crook to the next. “Do I have any takers?”

“Asshole-” He
heard, before suddenly, three of them were rushing him at once.

“Oh-oh!” He
fired off another laser – this time, he aimed lower, and one of the crooks fell
as their legs were knocked clean out from under them by the blow. “I see we’re
not abiding by anything that resembles sportsmanship.”

Of the
remaining two, one had a knife, one had their bare hands. Now calling on his
training in the Nexus Force, Aaron played evasive, evading a thrust from the
knife, diving forward and tipping the man ankles-over-head onto the pavement.
Then, he elbowed the other in the face before unceremoniously kneeing him in
the groin (because hey, if they weren’t going to play nice, why should he,
right?). The man collapsed with a groan, and Aaron mentally congratulated
himself on a takedown well-handled.

It was a very
close call.

The gunshot
seemed deafeningly loud on the wide-open, otherwise silent street. It wasn’t
close enough that Aaron felt the bullet whizz past his face or anything, but he
did hear the bullet smack into the wall behind him, and when he turned in
shock, he saw one of the remaining criminals holding a smoking gun. Her hand
was shaking.

“S- stay
back, freak!” She almost yelled. His retort was to fire off another laser that
catapulted her backwards and into the truck. She hit it and fell to the ground
with a groan.

His good
humour just about gone (and, really, who wouldn’t be peeved if they’d just been
shot at), he turned to glare at the ones left standing.

“Back off.”
He warned. “Whatever you’re doing, whatever you were going to do – it ends now.
You’re going to let this man-” he gestured to the leader’s victim, who was
still lying on the pavement, curled in a ball, “go. You’re going to run away. And
you’re going to do it right now, or I’ll just beat down the rest of you, and
then call in law enforcement.”

That did the
trick. Frightened at how their compatriots had been handled, the remaining
criminals began to pick each other up and run-slash-limp off into the night. A couple
of curses were hurled his way, as were a couple of fearful looks. But he
watched them go silently, igniting his hand in flame once again, simply staring
them off.

It was, of
course, almost definitely super irresponsible to just let these people go when
they’d been in the middle of crime stuff, and had been about to kill the man. But
if this night had showed him one thing so far, it was that he still had a lot
of work to do; not least to find a way to easily make sure that criminals *stayed* down and actually got locked up once he
punched them enough. He’d have to figure that out later. Hmm.

As the
evil-doers wandered off, Aaron dimly realised that there was someone still
there. The person they’d threatened to kill was still curled more or less in
the foetal position on the pavement, covering his face with his hands and
looking like he was trying his best to wake up from a bad dream. Hit with a
wave of sympathy, Aaron trotted over and crouched down by the man.

“Uh, hey bud.”
He reached out with a hand, but the retracted it. He had no idea how this guy
would react to physical contact right about now, seeing as he’d just been
manhandled. Maybe it would be best to give him some personal space for a bit. “You
okay?”

Slowly, the man peered out from behind his hands, eyes wide with shock.

“What… what *are* you?” He asked, breathlessly. His hands,
Aaron noticed, began to shake. He looked like he was on the verge of a nervous
meltdown.

“Woah, woah woah.” He breathed. “It’s alright, it’s alright, I’m not
going to hurt you.” He held his hands in front of him in a sort of “chill out” gesture,
but that backfired when the man gasped and scrabbled away, putting one arm over
his eyes.

“No!” He cried. “Don’t hurt me!”

“I just said-” Aaron cut himself off, frustrated. Did he really look
that scary? He gave himself a once-over. He didn’t *think* he looked all
that terrifying, but hey, looks could be deceiving. Plus – he still had the
scarf slung around his face.

“Don’t worry. Look.” He pulled it away – because secret identity was
important and all, but if there was any chance that showing this guy that he
was a regular human man and not some kind of monster would help him to calm
down, he’d take it in a heartbeat. “You see me? I’m not a monster, not a…” He
trailed off – the words “*not a freak*” had been on his tongue, but he suddenly
realised that he couldn’t say whether or not they were true. He tugged them
back down his throat like a fisher reeling in a catch, choking on air for a
moment before opting for a faint grin. “I’m here to help.” He finished.

The man lowered his arm.

“…Help?” He echoed, after a moment’s hesitation.

“Yep! Help!” Aaron emphasised. “And, for the record, yeah, I can kinda uh.
Kinda do scary stuff.” For the first time, he realised that someone had
recognised his powers for maelstrom, they would have been *doubly* scared. No wonder
he’d been able to put so much reliance into intimidation. Everyone else was
just as scared of the maelstrom as he’d been. “But I promise,” he continued, “I
want to do good things. I want to save people.”

The man ran his tongue over his lips nervously.

“Then I suppose,” he muttered, “that I owe you my thanks.”

“Oh, you’re very welcome!” Aaron assured him. “I- do you need a hand?”
The man was beginning to get to his feet.

“No, no, I’m alright.” He harrumphed as he rose. He was older then
Aaron had initially noticed – not totally old and grey, but there were clear
crows’ feet and worry lines on his face, and his hair was more silver than
blonde.

“Ah, yeesh.” Aaron mused out loud. “What bone did that lot have to pick
with you, anyway?”

“With me?” The man echoed, before shaking his head. “No. Not with me.
They were in the middle of an operation, y’see, and I suppose I stumbled on it
by mistake.”

“This probably sounds critical, and I swear I don’t mean it that way,”
Aaron said, “but how do you accidentally stumble onto a criminal operation?”

The man chucked. “No harm. I, er- I work at the store they were
robbing.” He pointed with his thumb to the building by their side, which Aaron
only now realised was some kind of store. “Part of a big tech conglomerate.”
The man continued. “I think they wanted to steal as much equipment as they
could and then sell it for themselves.”

“Huh.” Was all Aaron said. Things certainly made more sense now. Though
he was still worried about the fact that these criminals had apparently been
willing to kill a man just because he’d seen them robbing some technology
centre. “Seems like… an overreaction.”

The man shrugged. “You’re welcome to chase them down and take it up
with them.”

Aaron laughed at the suggestion. “Hah! And get shot at again? Fine line
between bravery and stupidity, and all that.”

The man smirked. “And all that.”

The conversation lulled for a moment.

“You should get home.” Aaron said, almost surprising himself with the
declaration – but really, it made sense. At least, if that had been him, *he’d* totally want to
just go home and take it easy. Hell, he did *now* as well.

“Hmm? Oh, no, it’s fine, I can still…” The man protested, but trailed
off when Aaron placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Sir.” Said Aaron. “I think, right now, you’re hopped up on adrenaline,
and everything seems fine. But you’ve just been through something incredibly
stressful, and the least you can do is, I think, go home and let yourself
process. There’s no shame in it.”

The man faltered – Aaron could see the fatigue written on his brow. “If
I just…”

“It’s okay.” Aaron assured him. “Come on. I can give you an escort –
make sure you get back safely.”

“Well, that’s very kind of you, young man.” The man said with a little
shrug. “But it’s really no problem. I only live a couple of streets away.”

Aaron was tempted to insist – didn’t this guy want some kind of
reassurance? – but held back. There was also wisdom, he knew, in respecting
people’s boundaries. He removed his hand from the man’s shoulder, and gave him
a jaunty two-fingered salute before quickly wrapping the scarf back round his
face.

“Then I wish you safe travels, sir.” He declared.

“You too, young man.” The man said. Then: “Keep doing what you’re
doing. You’ll get it down eventually.”

Surprised by the perception, Aaron stayed still for a moment. Then, he
laughed.

“Thanks for the advice!” He said, before stepping back out of the light
and shifting back into shadows, zooming away from the scene.

Job done! And, though he was definitely biased, he thought it’d turned
out alright.

### ***CHAPTER 6: YEAH OKAY HE’S DEFINITELY HIDING SOMETHING (POSSIBLY MULTIPLE THINGS)***

Over the following days, Will realised that there was a
chance that Kaylori was onto something. Though Aaron was no more forthcoming
about his condition than he had been previously, there was the occasional moment
where Will would catch him staring in his direction with a – and there was no
other way to describe it – a *guilty*
expression on his face. And those bits of paper and paint on the ceiling only
increased in number. Something was almost definitely going on.

The next session, Will made himself present to watch the
interaction between Kaylori and Aaron. In all honesty, he was a bit put out by the
actions of BOTH, but he figured he might as well see what was happening himself
before jumping into the fray one way or another. Then he could try and
negotiate a peaceful resolution.

Kaylori stepped through the door again, throwing her coat
onto the peg in such a fluid motion that he was sure that she’d practiced the
move at some point. He wasn’t sure if that made her more or less endearing. She
seemed surprised to see him there, however; visibly faltering in her step as
she caught sight of him reclined on the blue-cushioned sofa of the flat.
However, he waved her off and took a sip from the coffee that he definitely hadn’t
brewed just so he’d have something to do with himself while eavesdropping on
their session.

“Don’t mind me.” He said. “Just, uh, carry on like I’m not
here.”

“Okay…” She looked unsure, but her gaze flicked back to
Aaron anyway. “Okay, any wounds you still have that can effectively demonstrate
the maelstrom production?”

Wordlessly (which seemed weird), Aaron rolled up his trouser
leg to demonstrate a scrape on his leg that still hadn’t healed properly. It
was probably going to scar, Will figured. Ah well, such was strife.

“Aaand…” Kaylori tapped something down onto her datapad.
“Usual question. Any changes?”

“No changes since last time.” Aaron said. Will furrowed his
brow. He seemed fairly confident in his statement, and definitely wasn’t giving
off any tells associated with lying – but Will paid closer attention to the
wording. “No changes since last time”. If by that he was referring to the last
time that Kaylori had asked, then it was entirely possible that he was
referring to *that* and avoiding the nerves
that came with lying through the technicality.

Or maybe he and Kaylori were both just overthinking it,
which was still technically entirely possible.

It was at that moment that Kaylori’s eyes met his own, and a
connection seemed to materialise between them. They’d both heard Aaron.
Whatever their opinions might have been beforehand, they both had their
suspicions.

Kaylori conspicuously cleared her throat as she rose.

“Well, Aaron.” She said. “I can’t see anything wrong, so,
uh… well, see you in three days.”

Aaron gave her a two-fingered salute. “You got it, doc.”

Will pushed himself off of the sofa.

“Mind if I come with?” He asked Kaylori, though making sure
that Aaron heard (not that that was particularly difficult, seeing that he was
physically closer to him than Kaylori). “I think Aaron’s out of, uh, apple
juice. I said I’d pick some up for him.”

“I never said I’d…” Aaron began to say, but then trailed
off. For a horrifying moment, Will figured he’d jump up and accuse the two of
them of conspiring or something (which probably wouldn’t even have been a false
accusation, all things considered), but then he turned to Will with the biggest
grin Will had ever seen on his face. It was an awkward, self-satisfied
expression, and it took Will a bit of time to understand why he was doing it
with his face. It was only when he unsubtly jerked his head towards Kaylori
that he twigged it, and- oh. **Oh**.
Will glared at him, trying to convey “*That’s*
not what I’m doing, I don’t have a romantic interest in her, stop making
assumptions*” with his face alone. Aaron kept smirking. “*Why you lyin’ bro*”, his expression said*
back.

Uneager to continue the conversation(?), Will stepped past
both Aaron and Kaylori and out into the hallway, jamming his hands into his
pockets and pacing the hallway in agitation as Kaylori said her farewells.
Eventually, she shut the door – but not before Aaron something about young
love.

Kaylori flushed bright pink, her freckles blending into her
skin as it darkened, but it seemed more in irritation than embarrassment. She
folded her arms and caught Will’s gaze.

“Not a word.” She told him. Will held up his hands
apologetically – well, “hand” would probably me more apparent. As it turned
out, he was still holding his coffee.

“They’re his delusions, not mine.” He told her. “Don’t worry
about it.”

“Good.” Kaylori sighed. “Good, thank you.”

Nothing else was spoken for… a decent amount of time. The
silence was toe-curling. It was eventually Will that took the plunge.

“So.” He said, brusquely. “I believe you.”

She raised an eyebrow. “That’s a turnaround.”

“Yeah, well, I saw for myself what you were talking about.”
He admitted, raising his arms in a *what*
are you gonna do *gesture. “I was wrong. For the fourth time ever.”*

She didn’t laugh – not that he’d specifically expected her
too. She rolled her eyes.

“Modest as well, I see-”

“Hey.” Will cut into whatever insult she had been trying to
say to him. “I’m agreeing with you, here. Lay off.”

She raised her
arms. “Fine.”

“Fine.” Will said
again.

Thus followed
another silence.

“Now what?” Kaylori eventually asked. Will, personally,
wasn’t sure. He and this woman he’d met once beforehand both believed that his
best friend was hiding something. It wasn’t a social situation he’d ever
encountered before, and he didn’t have an idea how to handle it. Certainly, his
parents had never given him any advice about such a scenario.

“Keep each other informed.” He heard himself saying. His
voice wavered at went a bit higher, making it sound like a question even though
he’d meant it as a firm suggestion. She stared blankly at him, and he suddenly
felt prompted to elaborate.

“I’ll tell you if he’s acting weird personally, and you can
tell me if anything changes mentally.” He explained. “Call it an information
exchange.”

She nodded in consideration after a moment’s thought.
“Alright.” She said. She held out her hand, inviting him to shake it. He
grasped it – then made sure to look Kaylori in the eyes.

“I should specify something.” He said. “I know your interest
in this comes from, like, making sure that things are accurate, and so you can
investigate this… whole thing. Right?”

She shrugged. “I mean, that’s one way of putting it.”

“Right, right.” He said, hardening his nerve. “The thing is:
my priority is Aaron’s well-being. And that’s *all* I care about.” He let go of her hand and folded his arms. “So
that’ll be my de facto priority in any situation. Just so, uh, just so you
know.”

Kaylori sighed.

“That’s fair.” She eventually admitted. “I’ll try to
accommodate for that.”

“That’s all I ask.” Will said quickly, not wanting to look
impolite. Because really, he didn’t. Kaylori was… well, a bit nosy, perhaps,
and probably not tuned into the idea that every human was a person and more
than whatever their scientific worth was, but she was still polite and
relatively considerate, and it wasn’t like she was *wrong*.

They nodded at each other once, before Kaylori left him
behind to walk down the stairs for the second time in a row. This time, they
didn’t wave each other off.

When Will walked through the door, he was met by Aaron, who
had an exaggerated grin on his face.

“So-” Aaron managed to say before Will placed his palm on
his forehead and pushed him away. Aaron backed off, receiving the message, but
he had a smug look on his face for the rest of the time Will spent there.

By the time Will left to go home, the light was fading with
the setting sun, and most of the sky was already a deep indigo. Being on leave
(and expected to get reassigned at some point), he savoured the quiet night sky
while he still could, trying to block out his nights spend ignoring explosive
blasts, or the sleepless nights he’d spent deep in maelstrom territory.
Assignments *that* dangerous were rare,
statistically, but they were still entirely possible, and when they happened,
they were just about as far from fun as one could expect.

His position in the Venture faction (known as the Venture
League) meant that he spent a lot of time in the field in general – chartering
unexplored planet chunks, checking territory boundaries, and learning
everything there was to know about camping and living rough. He generally
enjoyed it – which was part of the why those more dangerous nights were so
bothersome. The mortal peril notwithstanding – and he didn’t want to downplay
that, because it was definitely there – it wasn’t fun to do something that was *normally* an enjoyable experience and
spoil it in such a way. It was just bothersome, to him.

…Maybe he was just being fickle.

He decided to stop thinking so hard (which was really more
Plue’s forte than it was his), he settled for enjoying the view as he sauntered
back home. And, as he sat down hours later in for a meal, he settled for an
afternoon of peace before his scheduled return to fretting.

It was definitely for the best that he had put that time
aside – as it turned out, he had needed it.

It was the next morning’s breaking news – an unidentified
individual had been seen slinking around Nimbus Station throughout the night,
creating havoc through a hitherto unseen ability to control the maelstrom.
There were comparisons made to the Nexus Force’s Paradox faction (which
sometimes used small amounts of maelstrom within its technology and weaponry),
but this was quickly discarded over the fact that this individual possessed no
visible forms of technology – and produced a much larger amount of maelstrom than
any member of Paradox could hope to achieve, as grainy footage of the figure
spawning bright and large fires from the palms of their hands demonstrated.

It took an embarrassingly long time for Will to make the
connection between Aaron and the mysterious figure plaguing his newsfeed – his
initial reaction had been general crisis, because *for goodness’ sake, he had enough going on in his life without hearing*
about some crazy bastard who had apparently harnessed the maelstrom*. It was*
only on his way back to Aaron’s flat, as he’d thought “*Well, perhaps this will get Kaylori’s attention, and she’ll lay off*
Aaron*”, that’ he’d considered the possibility of Aaron being the maelstrom*
controller. As he’d had the realisation, he’d stopped walking up the stairs and
audibly groaned, pressing his fingers to the bridge of his face and clamping
his eyes shut as if trying to blind himself to his idea.

Really, though, it made sense. The timeline certainly
matched up, seeing as no-one had seen anything like this before Aaron had
gained his condition. And controlling maelstrom, in any capacity-? Will could
think of more than one reason why Aaron would want to keep information like
that a secret.

What bothered him was exactly what Aaron thought he was
doing, running around at night. It hadn’t yet been made clear exactly what this
person’s agenda had been. The theories he’d seen in the comments of the
newsfeeds had been extravagant, to say the least; it had been a new type of
maelstrom creature, it was the first sign of an impending apocalypse/invasion, it
was some kind of Nexus Force experiment gone horrifically awry. Negativity all
around, and it was difficult to reconcile ANY of those with the Aaron he knew.
Which made him question whether or not it really *was* Aaron, which make him more self-doubting and more pensive, and
it was at that point he physically slapped himself in the face to snap himself
out of the spiralling train wreck of a train of thought he’d ended up
travelling on.

It really *was* one
thing after another for him, wasn’t it?

Arriving at Aaron’s flat, he let himself in and, after
getting his legs hugged half into paralysis by an ever-enthusiastic ‘Anna, he
asked where Aaron was while keeping an eye out for anything suspicious.

“Sleeping!” ‘Anna announced, so apparently proud of this
fact that Aaron might as well have run a marathon. “He’s sleeping!”

“Sleeping, huh?” Will tried very hard to not think about how
if Aaron had been out all of the previous night, he would surely be very tired
that morning (but, of course, he thought about it anyway). “Do you know when
he’ll wake up?”

“Nope!” ‘Anna told him. “He’s *really* tired!”

Will’s heart sank further.

As he stepped into the living room, one of the bits of paper
stuck to the ceiling lost its grip (the tape could have only lasted for so
long, he would later reason) and fluttered downwards to land by his feet. He
picked it up and almost reflexively looked up at the ceiling – to see an
extremely blatant scorch mark marring the pale paint.

He looked around – and saw ‘Anna looking at both him and the
scorch mark with a guilty expression on her face. Guilty? Why on earth…?

“What’s that doing there?” He asked. His voice was even,
which he considered an achievement due to his internal screaming. ‘Anna gave a
shrug that was so over-the-top it could only have been forced.

“Dunno.” She said.

“Did you put that there?” He tried for a smile, to act
conspiratorial – but she remained tight-lipped.

“Dunno.” She said again.

Shoot.

He nodded to show that he understood (he really didn’t
understand) and turned away. Was ‘Anna on the secret? Was she covering for her
brother? Was it really *her* fault? Surely
not – not that last one, anyway. It was clear, though, that Aaron was hiding
something and that ‘Anna was helping him, and that Aaron was almost definitely
the mysterious person running around the city.

“I’ll stop by later.” Will said, for ‘Anna’s benefit. “When
he’s awake.”

With that, he stepped out of the flat. He walked back down
the stairs, into the corridor coated with red velvet – and noted, dully, that
it would probably have been more appropriate for his emotional situation if it
was coloured yellow for fear.

### ***CHAPTER 7: CONFRONTATION***

Will DID stop by later, as he’d promised he would. Aaron was
awake, but he also looked exhausted. Drooping posture and sluggish movements,
twitchy limbs and eyebags. The exception to this fatigue were Aaron’s eyes
themselves, which still contained a fire only matched by the fire Aaron had managed
to start while trying to cook a “lupper” (a meal eaten at the midpoint between
lunch and supper).

“Oh, geez.” Will said loudly, hurrying over and turning the
gas off. “That’s not good.”

“I’ve got it.” Aaron insisted, waving a cloth in the flame’s
general direction. Will took charge, smothering the flames with relative
efficiency. It wasn’t like he hadn’t had to do it before. Once the crisis had
been resolved, Will turned to Aaron with his hands on his hips.

“And I thought it was Plue who was in charge of the culinary
disasters in this household.” He joked – but Aaron didn’t really respond beyond
an affirmative grunt. Hmm. He must have really been tired.

“You know,” Will said cautiously, “you’ve been… acting off
latel-”

He didn’t even finish his sentence, getting cut off as Aaron
spun towards him with a speed completely contradictory to his fatigue, panic
written all over his face.

And that, Will figured, was all the proof that he needed.

“…You’re the guy who was on the news this morning.” He said.
“What you’re hiding – it has something to do with controlling the maelstrom.”

Aaron looked as if he was going to say something to deny it,
but Will held up a firm hand.

“Don’t try it.” He warned. “Don’t try to convince me otherwise.
Because I’m right… aren’t I?”

A deep silence. Aaron didn’t speak. Will didn’t speak. ‘Anna
stuck her head out from the living room to watch, intensely focusing on the two
men as though one of them was about to kill the other. Eventually, Aaron sighed
and shoved his hands into his pockets.

“Busteeed~.” He sung to himself, not meeting Will’s eyes.

Will’s immediate instinct was anger, and he had to restrain
a sudden urge to push Aaron back against the wall and yell at him. How dare he
not tell him, his oldest friend, something this important? This monumental? How
dare he run out at night, causing malarkey or whatever he’d been doing, making
a nuisance of himself? He thought back to the burns on the ceiling. How dare he
do something like that in his own flat, putting not only himself but also Plue
and ‘Anna – the only family he had – at risk?

The knowledge gave him half a mind to knock his friend’s
teeth in.

But then he stopped to think. To calm down. To reflect upon
everything. And – most importantly – to inspect the scenario from Aaron’s
perspective. Because, he realised, to Aaron, things must have been far more
terrifying or intensive than they would have been for any bystander of his. He
would have had to go through finding out (presumably independently) that he
could control maelstrom, which in and of itself opened up a whole host of
problems. Whilst Aaron himself seemed ambivalent beyond the general
dislike-stroke-fear of maelstrom that was the general mindset, there were
plenty of people who had lost everything to the maelstrom, one way or another.
And being able to control it would have been equivalent to having control over
natural disasters, or control over some deadly disease. It couldn’t have been a
fun realisation, and there were bound to be people out there that would
probably try to have Aaron quarantined or killed if ever they knew about him.

Beyond that, there was the fact that this had never happened
to anyone else (at least, as far as Will knew), meaning that if Aaron had
revealed such a condition, it probably would have resulted in years of his life
being signed away for testing and research, as the Nexus Force would have
surely been very eager to try and discern everything there was to know and then
some about Aaron’s condition. For any person eager to live their own life, this
would have been a hard pill to swallow. For Aaron – a free spirit with
aspirations generally linked to his own mobility, and with people that he loved
very much – it would have been unthinkable.

No, Will mused, withdrawing from his deep thoughts after
standing still and thinking for who knew how long, it made sense that it hadn’t
been revealed even to him – even if it did sting.

“How did… how did it all even happen?” He asked, faintly.
Wordlessly, Aaron rummaged around in his pocket and pulled out the odd purple
germ they’d found with him in the mines. In hindsight, it made sense. He
honestly should have figured, especially seeing as the gem itself was
apparently emitting maelstrom energy (even if it wasn’t a lot). But there was
one question he couldn’t figure out the answer to:

“What the hell possessed you go marauding around at night?”
He hissed.

Aaron winced, but then looked at him in a puzzled way.
“Wait. *That’s* what you’re curious
about?”

Of course, Aaron’s curiosity remained. Will rolled his eyes.

“I’m currently juggling frustration with empathy.” He said,
by way of explanation. “But the one thing I can’t figure out is why you’d just…
go out at night. Do stuff with your powers.” He waved his hands. “I don’t
suppose you saw that? It was all over the news.”

“It was?” Aaron fumbled for his phone.

“Yeah, that was the first thing I said. Remember?” Will held
up his own phone (with the newsfeed open), and Aaron peered at it for a few
moments before standing back and rubbing the back of his neck.

“Oh, sugar honey iced tea.” He said. “Well… uh… yeah, that
makes sense.”

“Why did you do it?” Will asked him, tired of preamble.

Aaron’s gaze flickered from one side of the kitchen to the
other, as if not quite sure that they weren’t being listened to. But
eventually, his focus returned to Will.

“Okay, so, like, you know how I technically can’t leave
until the figure out why I’m like this, and that sucks because you know me?”

Will nodded. He *did*
know Aaron, and he was fully aware that it was basically impossible to keep him
cooped up somewhere for long – he always just had too much energy, and he
always seemed to have to be doing something. That was just part of who he was.

“Well, I figured, “what can I do if I’m stuck here”, you
know? Because they definitely aren’t sending me on any assignments any time
soon.” Aaron continued to explain. “So I, uh… I figured I should be a
vigilante.”

Will could only stare for a few moments.

“You know.” He eventually said. “Going around looking for
crooks to fight when you’re forbidden from doing anything officially, and using
the powers you literally just got to do it… doesn’t sound all that great of an
idea for me.”

“It sounds worse when you say it out loud!” Protested Aaron.

“You thought that the best thing you could do was partake in
a touch of vigilantism?” Will reiterated. “That’s just… stupid!”

Aaron threw his hands up in the air. “Okay! Fine! Whatever!
It’s stupid and reckless, yadda yadda yadda! But I…” He faltered, and Will
almost knew what was coming before he heard it. “I have to do *something*!”

*So goeth the Aaron*
Wilder motto*, thought Will to himself.* “I
have to do something.” No matter how risky or endangering or ultimately moronic
that something is.

Still – he could understand it, at least. There was a
frustration that came from being useless and unable to contribute, and unable
to be productive. And Aaron, Will knew, suffered from this frustration almost
more than anyone else that Will knew. It was in his core to do things, no
matter the risks.

At the very least, Aaron sounded though he’d thought about
his decision, and that he was fully aware of the risks. That was something.
Normally, that kind of self-awareness was what led Will to letting Aaron do
stupid things in the first place.

He remembered the mines again.

“Aaron.” Will said. “It’s admirable, that even now, you want
to contribute. You want to help.” He tried to focus on Aaron’s eyes. “But I
can’t just let you do it. It can only end one way.”

Aaron folded his arms. “You’ve said that before, and I’ve
been fine, though.” He said. “I’ve made it through.”

Will noted how Aaron had either forgotten about or was being
wilfully ignorant of the incident that had given him powers in the first place.

“It only has to go wrong once.” Will pointed out. “And then
you’re not here anymore. And last time-?” Aaron’s face fell, and Will felt a
stab of guilt, but *this was the point*,
he couldn’t keep letting things like this happen. “Last time, you didn’t come
out unscathed. You came out like…” Will waved his arms in Aaron’s general
direction, not particularly sure how to sum everything up. “This.”

“Oh, thanks man.” Aaron muttered, folding his arms
self-consciously. “Doing wonders for my self-esteem over here.”

“It’s not about self-esteem!” Will pointed out, feeling
himself growing frustrated. “It’s… it’s about basic safety!”

“Will…!” Aron protested, hesitating, like he couldn’t really
find the words. “I- I’ll be fine!”

“How well did you even *do*
last night, huh?” Will protested. “How much heroics did you accomplish? How
many people did you save? Because nobody seems to know what you were even *doing* out there! And you don’t even want
to read the theories!”

Aaron flexed his fingers, as though he was typing on an
invisible keyboard – or as though he were preparing to clench his hands into
fists for a fight. Will shifted his stance slightly. It was unlikely that the
two would actually come to blows, but it was still better to be safe than
sorry.

“You want to help people?” Will continued, on a roll and
just about at his wits end with the whole business. He remembered the reactions
he’d seen. People weren’t *pleased*
that this was happening, they weren’t being *helped*.
They were *afraid*. “You’re going to
have to find another way to do it. Because right now, you’re just one more fear
to add to the pile.”

His piece said, he stopped. Almost regretting the harsh
words that he had said. But the truth was that they had had to be said. The
issue – an issue such as this – was too important to sugar-coat for the sake of
sensibilities, even if they were the sensibilities of his friend. Because Aaron
could take honesty.

Aaron stared at the floor for several long, dragged out moments.
Only after Will had begun to worry that he may have actually gone too far did
he actually say something:

“I did save someone, though.”

After this was more silence. Aaron still wouldn’t meet
Will’s eyes, and Will could only wait to listen to Aaron.

“It was some guy – some *kid*.
And he was being threatened by these guys, and one of them had a knife…” He
trailed off. “And I managed to go up to them, and you know what? I didn’t even
have to- have to fight. I just showed off a bit… did something with some fire…
and they just, like, ran away. And then… then I told the kid to go home. And he
ran, which I guess is to be expected...” Aaron’s fingers were still twitching,
like he was trying to get rid of as much nervous energy as possible. He finally
looked up. “Will, I get it. More than you know. Most of last night- well, it
was a disaster. I freaked people out, I looked like a fool, there was one bit
where I was a shadow and then I solidified myself on the side of the building
and, uh, fell a fair distance.”

Will resisted the urge to slap his hand on his forehead at
the description of this display of what was, for lack of a better term, “peak
Aaron”.

“But!” Aaron continued, resolutely. “It was all worth it for
that one moment. If I hadn’t been there, that kid could have been hurt. Could
have been killed.” He sighed. “And I think I prevented that.”

“And that makes it all worth it?” Will pressed, though deep
down, he already knew what Aaron’s answer would be.

“Yes.” Said Aaron, not hesitating for a moment. Will sighed
deeply. Well, verbally convincing him out of it was dead as an idea.

“Okay.” He said, waving a hand, feeling relieved but also
disappointed in himself for doing so. “Keep doing it then.”

Aaron perked up like a dog that had just had a bowl of food
placed in front of it. At the sight, Will raised an eyebrow.

“What? We both know you would have done it either way.” He
protested. Aaron rubbed the back of his neck.

“Well, yeah…” He said. “But it’s nicer to know that I’m
endorsed, you know?”

“I’m not endorsing you.” Will corrected him quickly. “But
it’s pointless arguing with you-”

He cut himself off as a thought occurred to him. Was Will
the only one who knew?

“Do ‘Anna and Plue know?”

Aaron gave a sort of awkward shrug, waving his shoulder and
not meeting Will’s eyes – as if he was unsure in his own unsure-ness.

“About the powers?” He responded. “Yes. About the
vigilantism? No, I don’t think so.”

Fantastic. That was just fantastic. Well, actually, no, it
wasn’t as bad as it could have been – they hadn’t been kept completely in the
dark. But the fact that there was something they *didn’t* know meant that there was something else that Will felt
obligated to ask.

“Are you planning on telling them? On letting them know?”

Now Aaron just looked disappointed. Either with the question
or with himself, Will wasn’t entirely sure.

“I don’t know.” He admitted. “I mean, yeah, I want to be
honest with them, but I also don’t want them to worry and I don’t want them to
try and stop me.”

“Good god.” Muttered Will, wiping his brow. He turned away
from Aaron and tried to make it look like he was inspecting the kitchen. (He
was probably failing, but he would rather look like something akin to a fool
then actually face his friend right now, in all honesty.) “Aaron, I say this
with the greatest sympathy and regard for your well-being: this is absolutely
going to blow up in your face.”

He didn’t see Aaron move, but he could imagine the wild
flailing hands of denial to go along with the indignant noises that Aaron was
making.

“You don’t know that!” Aaron eventually protested.

*I really do*,
thought Will, but he decided to not directly say it out loud. The universe
knew, he had tried – but sometimes there was no dissuading people.

“Whatever.” He said. He folded his arms. “Just keep me
posted, at least.”

If he couldn’t persuade his friend to not do the stupid
thing, he could – at the very least – be there to pick up the pieces when
things inevitably went horribly wrong. It was pessimistic of him, but the mine
incident continued to weigh on his mind, clinging to him like a burr on a dog’s
fur. Still: this was how things were going to be. That much was clear. There
was no point lamenting over it. The best thing he could hope to do was remain
practical and level-headed.

“I, uh… I can do that.” Aaron admitted.

Thus followed another weighty silence. Will had said his
piece, and given up on the dissuasion idea. Aaron appeared to have no real idea
what else he wanted to say. Eventually, Will stood up.

“Well, I should be off.” He said. He gave no mention to the
fact that he was still incredibly frustrated with Aaron’s stubbornness, as well
as incredibly worried about his condition and how it seemed to have really
affected him. He also gave no mention of the legal dangers that came with using
his condition to be a vigilante (of all things!), and how bad the situation
would become if his identity was discovered. He gave no mention of how he was
now definitely going to have to come up with an excuse to not share information
with Kaylori (because, as he realised, this was not something he could just
tell her, no matter what agreement they may have made). He could have said all
of these things, but he didn’t. It would have been pointless.

He settled for walking out without saying goodbye.

### ***CHAPTER 8: “KAY”***

Though he was almost loathe to do so, Will returned the day
after the next. All things considered, he still had to talk with Kaylori –
though he hadn’t been able to decide entirely what he was going to say. When he
arrived, she was already there, firing off her usual inquisition while Aaron
sat there looking even more uncomfortable then he had the previous sessions.
There was one terrifying moment where she had commented on he looked more
wounded then he had previous sessions after seeing some bruises on Aaron’s leg
(which Will reckoned were related to how the mysterious vigilante had been
reported to have gotten into a fight with two men attempting to rob a house),
but – strangely enough – she did not press the matter further, leaving Aaron
and Will room to breathe and share worried glances with one another. When she
finished, she stood up and made some final notes on her datapad before
forcefully seizing her coat.

“Will?” She said. “May I please speak to you outside for a
moment? Just to follow up on our conversation from last time.”

Will knew what she was referring to – and it probably
couldn’t have been anything good.

“Sure.” He said, and in that moment, he wondered if this is
how people felt when they were condemned to die.

Aaron, still misreading the situation in a way that would have
been at least vaguely funny if the reality hadn’t been so serious, blatantly
winked at him. He rolled his eyes before stepping out into the hall, Kaylori
right behind him. The door shut. And then it was just them.

“Did you find anything out?” She asked.

Will, still lacking a proper plan (as was the way when you
spent all your time worrying and not enough of your time being practical (which
itself was the way when one had emotions)), decided to wing it.

“I have some suspicions.” He said in a way that was probably
suspicious in and of itself. Oops. “But tell me what you think first – we can
compare notes.”

She raised an eyebrow, obviously befuddled by his request,
but made no move to dispute it and instead folded her arms and eyed the closed
door. Well, she would have probably preferred to eye Aaron directly, but the
door to his flat was in the way.

“He’s hiding something.” She re-confirmed. “I believe I know
what it is – I believe that he’s the vigilante they’ve been discussing in the
news recently.”

“Hmm.” Said Will, stalling for time.

“Those bruises – those injuries – how else would he get
them”? She continued.

“He does have a habit of getting hurt.” Suggested Will.
“Maybe he’s just being an idiot. Take it from me when I say it wouldn’t be the
first time.”

Kaylori nodded begrudgingly.

“That’s fair, and normally, I wouldn’t make any assumptions
on those alone. But think about it! This vigilante only appeared *after* Aaron developed his condition –
not even that, they only appeared after he was discharged! And the fact is that
the vigilante can control maelstrom. As it stands, Aaron is the only person
known to anyone that could do something like that without dying.”

“You make good points.” Said Will. She really did – in fact,
she had apparently been thinking things through from a similar perspective to
his own.

Kaylori nodded again – this time, in thanks. “Not only
that,” she continued, “but it would make sense for him to hid it if he really
had the ability to control maelstrom as extensively as this vigilante appears.”

“Because he’d be afraid of what would happen to him if you
found out?” Will suggested. Kaylori frowned.

“Well, I doubt it’s me *specifically*-”
She began to say. Will cut her off.

“You’re the one who visits him for check-ups and stuff,
though.” He pointed out. “*And* you’re
a representative of the Nexus Force. You’re the one he probably really fears.”

“Hey, not necessarily!” She protested. “I think it’d be
fairer to say I’m… I’m a representation – a physical manifestation, perhaps –
of that fear of discovery.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Will said, making clear that he was sticking
by his opinion. He was… still tired and worried, and yeah, he was more
irritable, and yeah, he didn’t like the idea of this woman finding so much out
about his friend, considering she mostly saw him as a scientific thing and not
a person. Even if she seemed to try and exercise self-restraint, it was obvious
that she wasn’t focusing on the human side of things. Under normal
circumstances, it wouldn’t have bothered Will all that much – he could respect
looking at things objectively – but the fact that it was his best friend of a
decade or longer in the firing line of this curiosity meant that he had a lot
less patience for it. So, yes, snark all the way.

Kaylori scowled at him.

“Still!” She said indignantly, and a little shrilly. “You-
he- you agree with me though, right?”

Will sighed, and hung his head.

“Yes.” He said. “I agree with you.”

She threw her arms up in the air in a surprising show of
passion. She was obviously very invested.

“*Thank you*.” She
said firmly.

“You’re welcome.” He said back, mimicking her hand flourish.
She gave him a death stare that would have been intimidating if he hadn’t been
subjected to many death stares already throughout his life (both Aaron and Plue
were very good at them).

She seemed about to say something else, but visibly held her
tongue and forced her words back down. He waited as she cleared her throat.

“Yes, well.” She eventually said. “Is there any way for us
to confirm it, do you think? Perhaps if you spoke to him?”

“It’d be difficult.” Said Will, deciding to cut his losses
and improvise. “If I asked him directly, he’d deny it-”

“Obviously.” Kaylori nodded. Had *she*? Just interrupted *him*?
How the tables had turned. Both annoyed and amused, he pursed his lips and gave
a slight nod.

“*And*,” he
continued, placing emphasis on the word to emphasise the fact that he had been
so rudely interrupted, “if he’s really set on keeping this a secret, it’s
unlikely that he’d slip up.”

“That’s not true, is it?” Said Kaylori. “He’s already
slipped up in that we’ve figured it out, surely?”

“First of all.” Said Will, raising a stern finger like a
teacher lecturing a student. “We technically haven’t *figured it out*, because we don’t know anything with certainty yet.
Second of all, I meant that he won’t slip up when speaking to us. He’s on
guard. He won’t make a mistake like that.” He fixed Kaylori with a gaze that he
hoped conveyed *don’t interrupt me and*
make assumptions, you rude individual*.*

Her own gaze said *I’m*
sorry for interrupting you but also I’m not*, which was… to be expected,*
really.

“Fine.” She said, briskly, repositioning herself so she was
standing up a little straighter.

“Fine.” Said Will back, moving himself out of the slouch
he’d been standing in. “So what do we do now?”

“You’re the one who’s friends with him.” Kaylori responded.
“I figured that you’d be the one to come up with the plan.”

“You’re the one who’s invested.” Will shot back. “I would
have thought that your evident passion would have motivated you to take point
in this situation.”

“I was being considerate.” Kaylori sniped at him. “You told
me he was your friend and that your investment was to his benefit, and from
that I made the assumption that you would want to take charge so that you could
ensure that your priorities were respected first and foremost.” She smirked at
him. “I’m sorry if I was mistaken.”

Oh, she was good.

Will angrily reached up and readjusted his hat, which had
been a little askew on his head.

“Your compassion and humanity enthrals me.” He said in a
complete deadpan, before sighing with perhaps a tad more melodrama then
necessary. “Alright, well, I’ll take charge. I’ll think up a plan so that we
can prove it one way or another, and we can enact it next time.”

Kaylori nodded. “Shall we exchange numbers?” She asked. Will
could feel his eyebrow raise, and she rolled her eyes in response. “Really,
what kind of plan would it be if one of us only found out about it on the
literal day, or something?” She pressed. Will pursed his lips. She wasn’t
wrong.

“Okay.” He said. “You have a phone on you?”

“No, but I know my number.” She said, holding her hand out
expectantly. “I’ll enter it into your phone, and then you’ll message me, and
that way I’ll get *your* number. And
then we can talk more about this.”

Will withdrew his phone from his pocket, but didn’t had it
over to her.

“My mother always said to not give my contact information to
strangers.” He said.

“Smart woman.” Declared Kaylori, before withdrawing the hand
and placing it on her hips. “Well then: Kaylori Armstrong, age twenty-four,
member of the Assembly faction and personal assistant to Doctor Albert
Overbuild.” She tilted her head to the side. “Is that enough to remove me from
the “stranger” category?”

Honestly amused, Will handed over his phone.

“William Adalwin, age twenty, member of the Venture League
faction and personal assistant to nobody.” He said with a smile on his face
that was equal points sincere and not. “There – now we can have each other’s
contact info, free of concern.”

“Oh, gee, you’re so considerate.” She said, sarcasm etched
into every word. He caught the phone as she tossed it back to him, and he
looked down to see his new contact – saved “Kaylori”. An idea came to him, and
he quickly edited the contacts name while she looked on, bemused.

“What are you doing?” She asked. He held up the phone to
show her that her name had been changed from “Kaylori” to “Kay”. Her face fell.

“No.” She said simply. Will stretched his hands out.

“If Will is short for William, and you call me Will, why
can’t I call you “Kay”?” He pointed out. She rolled her eyes.

“You introduced yourself as Will, indicating that was what
you *wanted* to be called.” She said.
It was right, of course, but he didn’t feel inclined to admit it. He shrugged.

“You have to admit it’s simpler, though.” He said. “Less
syllables.”

“That’s lazy talk.” She said. “Besides, “Kay” doesn’t even
sound like a name. That’s like where you land a boat, or how you’d pronounce
“key” if you had a certain accent.”

“Kay…” Loden grinned at her. “That just makes me like it all
the more, you know that, right?”

She folded her arms. “Alright, William.”

Thus was war declared.

“That’s weird.” He said. “Only my parents call me
“William”.”

“No-one at all calls me “Kay”.” She retorted. “How do you
think I feel?”

He didn’t immediately answer. She evidently took that as
some kind of victory (which, of course, it wasn’t), because she smiled smugly
at him before turning on her heel and beginning to walk in the direction of the
stairs.

“Keep me informed, William.” She called over her shoulder.

“Okay, I will…” He called back, giving it a bit of time so
that when he finally said it it would be more effective. “…Kay.”

He saw her flinch a bit, but she didn’t say anything. He
chuckled, in spite of himself, and turned back around to go back into the flat.
It was strange, really- despite the fact that he had to come up with some kind
of phoney plan to keep Kay off Aaron’s back, and the fact that Aaron was still
putting himself in danger, *and* the
fact that Aaron would probably make all sorts of inappropriate comments about
the nature of his and Kay’s relationship (assuming you could even call it that,
and you probably couldn’t), he still felt lighter then he had in days.

Did this count as fraternizing with the enemy?

Whatever.

### ***CHAPTER 9: THE ADVENTURES OF MAELSTROM***

If you had told Aaron, like, between three and four weeks
ago (however long it had been since he’d touched the gem in the mine) that he’d
have control over maelstrom powers and also be making waves as a vigilante? He’d
have been a bit worried, he supposed, but for the most part, he would have
written it off as some kind of joke. And yet, here he stood, clad in his
vigilante outfit (which was still a work in progress, but nobody needed to know
that), staring down criminals and making them back off without even lifting a
finger.

The criminals in question were a trio of people – two men
and a woman – dressed in dark and identity-obscuring clothing. One of them had
a crowbar, one of them had a duffel bag – and oh, yes, they were standing
outside the broken window of a jewellery store. In all honesty, this was the
first time Aaron had encountered a crime as stereotypical as this, but he
wasn’t going to *complain* about it,
all things considered.

“M-Maelstrom!” One of the men yelled, lifting a gloved hand
and pointing in his direction. *Maelstrom*
being the moniker that was slowly getting associated with his alter-ego. He
wasn’t quite sure how he felt about it – like, he was really bigger on the idea
of spreading hope than he was spreading fear, but at the same time, it was
about as accurate a name as he could think of.

He bowed in greeting. “The one and only.” His voice was
slightly muffled by his own identity protection – a thin purple scarf wrapped
around the lower part of his head, obscuring his mouth and nose. It was
lavender-scented. He hoped that didn’t make him any less intimidating.

Also obscuring him were a pair of thick engineer’s goggles
that he’d picked up for cheap, and the hood of the black hoodie he was wearing.
The hoodie itself was pretty thick, so his own form shouldn’t have been too
distinguishable. Underneath it was a bullet-proof vest and a shirt, just in
case he ran into *armed* trouble as he
had the first night. Then there were the dark jeans, and the toe shoes that let
him run faster and climb on stuff easier. (Honestly, he’d always thought that
toe shoes were cool, but he’d been shouted down on that particular issue
numerous times. Still, though, if anyone he’d confronted *had* noticed the toe shoes thus far, they hadn’t said anything.
Which was nice. But also expected. Because of the whole maelstrom thing.) And
the gem – the strange, maelstrom power-giving gem, was fastened onto some
elastic and was hanging around his neck below his shirt, because he didn’t
think keeping it loose in his pocket while he was diving all over the place was
a great idea.

“You know,” he continued, “the fact that you actually know
who I am almost makes me want to let you off.” He pointed an accusing finger at
the group. “Almost. But, uh, that being said, I don’t suppose I could convince
you to surrender?”

The man who’d spoken honestly looked eager, but the other
man – holding the crowbar – stepped forward. Aaron sized him up. The
ringleader, perhaps? Definitely either the bravest of the bunch or the
stupidest.

“So, that’s a no, then?” He asked. Presumably in response,
crowbar man dived at him, swinging the weapon wildly.

“Shame.” Said Aaron, focusing his power and slowly melting
into shadow – appreciating the look on the crook’s faces as it happened. And
then – bam. He was fully shadow-ified.

It had taken a while to figure out how to *do* things as a shadow. Like, it was a
super odd feeling, to have no limbs to move and no real way of sensing things.
He could still tell what was there, though, based on the forms of what was
around (basically, what things created shadows. It was neat like that). In his
new form, he zipped around and behind the crooks, before rematerializing and
thunking the man who’d recognised him on the back of the head with a neat
punch. He reeled with a whimper, falling forwards onto the ground and clutching
his head like he’d just been branded or something.

Wimp.

Crowbar man and the woman saw this, and both of them rushed
forward at once. Aaron’s response was to sent out a section of webbing – making
sure it didn’t touch any exposed skin, because he still didn’t know if it was
in his capacity to infect people and he really didn’t want to know the answer,
and fastened one of the woman’s feet to the floor, stopping her in her tracks.
As she struggled to pull her foot free, crowbar man rushed towards him, raising
the weapon again (as if it was going to make any difference this time!
Hah-hah). This time, Aaron resolved himself to direct action, stepping back a
bit, raising his fist, and neatly blocking the attack with the crowbar with one
hand while socking the man in the jaw with the other. Even without his powers,
he *had* trained in the Nexus Force and
joined the Sentinel faction. He could hold his own in a straight fight, easily.

Not wasting any time, he lunged forward, trying to punch
crowbar man in the diaphragm and bring him down. But crowbar man was faster
then he had anticipated, and he felt the weight of the crowbar crack across his
back as he dove. He yelled in pain, and the next thing he knew, he’d been
kicked aside and onto the floor – within range of the woman still fastened to
the floor, who aimed another kick at his back as he lay there. He winced. The
fresh blow (was she wearing combat boots? Those things had steel toes! *Ow!*) made him hiss in pain.

Okay. Now Aaron was properly pissed off-!

As crowbar guy made like he was gonna kick him again, he grabbed
his foot and yanked it harshly, sending the man crashing down to the floor. At
the same time, he jumped up and punched the woman square in the face. Stunned,
she fell sideways with a crash, still fastened to the ground by the webbing on
one of her feet. Wasting no time, he pushed himself forward and onto the
crowbar guy, straddling him and pinning him to the ground before punching in
the neck. The man choked for air and dropped the crowbar. Not finished,
however, he then stood up and hauled the man upwards by the lapels of the coat
he was wearing, so they were almost face to face.

*Perfect*, he thought
coldly to himself. Because, in all honesty, he was sick of worrying about
whether or not his powers would infect anyone. He just had to know – it was the
most practical thing to find out. So what better way of finding out then by
testing it on someone like this? Better a criminal than anyone he genuinely
cared about, at any rate.

He seized the criminal’s arm and tore away the sleeve, revealing
bare skin.

“Just testing something real quick.” He said, before seizing the
arm and pumping large amounts of maelstrom energy into his own hand, spewing
forth mist that coated everything below his palm. He gave it a few seconds – to
make sure – and then released it. The man was still mostly too dazed to protest
the fact that he may have just had a death warrant signed, though he still
sluggishly drew his arm back towards him.

Peering in for a closer look, he saw that nothing seemed to be
wrong. Among other things, maelstrom was fast acting – any person infected
would last from days to hours, and the physical side-effects tended to begin
immediately. But there was no sign of creeping purple, no withering flesh, no
ambient mist. The arm looked fine.

*Well*, he mused, *that answers that question*. And with
that, he stepped back and into a nearby phone centre to call the authorities,
feeling his anger fade away as he walked. Stumbling a little bit as the
adrenaline wore off, Aaron made sure to disguise his voice by putting on
another voice as he phoned to inform whoever it concerned (there was a hotline
for reporting crimes, but you could never be sure if it was gonna be picked up
by someone from local law enforcement, or by someone from the Nexus Force) that
there were some people outside who had tried to do a crime and they should be
arrested. As was becoming routine, he advised them to check the security camera
footage if they didn’t believe him, before dropping the phone back onto the
receiver and sauntering away, slipping into the shadows and rematerializing
atop a building almost without a care in the world.

It was strange – now that the anger had left him, he almost regretted
testing his power on a person, knowing full well that it could have killed him
if it had actually been that infectious. Hadn’t that been something he had
worried about for days?

*Well, now*
you know*, he told himself, which was… fair. It still didn’t sit right by*
him, but what was done was done, and at the end of the day, now he knew and
wouldn’t have to worry about it anymore. He stopped as he walked for a moment –
oh. *Oh*. He wouldn’t have to worry
about it anymore! Unable to yell triumphantly (because of circumstance and all
that) he settled for a very vigorous fist-bump. He didn’t have to worry about
infecting people with his power! That was fantastic!

Unfortunately, the way that he universe apparently worked meant
that he didn’t have time to celebrate for long. As it had happened, he had
commandeered his Nexus Force-issue communicator (which were typically used by
agents in the field) and set it to pick up all transmissions across the Nimbus
Station. It was his way of keeping an ear out for any incidents. It had picked
up once before – a significantly sized fire. (And *that* had been a busy and painful night.) But now it was blaring an
alarm, with a panicked voice speaking into it:

“Maelstrom sighted downtown east, sector nine! Repeat, maelstrom
presence sighted-”

His initial, dumb (or maybe self-centred) reflex was that they were talking
about him, and he panicked for a moment before realising that A.) he would have
already been surrounded or something if he’d been spotted, and B.) he wasn’t in
sector nine. (At least, he didn’t think he was. He’d have to check a map.) And
then-! Then he realised.

Maelstrom, as in, *the*
maelstrom. The chaotic force. It had gotten into Nimbus Station? He almost fell
off the roof as his legs trembled slightly. How the hell had it gotten in?
Nimbus Station was supposed to be one of the securest settlement in the entire
system! How the hell-! He cut himself off. It didn’t matter how. What mattered was
that it was there.

He dematerialized again. It was time to see how well he fared
against them.

Of course, things could have never been that simple.

He arrived on the scene to find the Nexus Force already there.
Okay, fair enough. A barricade had been set up throughout the street – because
apparently, the maelstrom remained contained *to* this one street, which was strange – and Sentinel soldiers were
shepherding people away from the scene as a mixture of Sentinels and Paradox
fighters were doing their best to tackle the maelstrom. He kept watching for a
few more seconds, and noticed something. The fighters weren’t landing any of
their hits (their ranged blasts were flying into the sky or into buildings, and
they never seemed to feel any recoil from their close-combat attacks), and the
maelstrom didn’t look to be doing all that much damage either. There was no
sign of spreading infection, and it wasn’t savaging or causing real damage to
anyone it lunged at, beyond prompting them to cower or dive away.

Was it a hoax? *What was*
going on*?*

Deciding to test it for himself, he jumped down into a very
secluded part of the road where he couldn’t be see, and fired off a blast of
fire at the nearest maelstrom creature – a spiderling. Eew. He’d had enough of
those for a while. However – the fire passed *through* the spiderling, and ended up setting alight a nearby
post-box. Oops. The spiderling itself didn’t appear to take kindly to being
blasted, but when it lunged at him, it passed through him like he wasn’t there.
Or like *it* wasn’t there. He checked
himself quickly. No, he wasn’t a shadow. Which meant that the spiderling
couldn’t have been real, just some kind of… visual… thingy. Hallucination?
Maybe.

And that’s when things got even *weirder*.

As Aaron slunk forwards (so as to avoid attracting any attention
from the Nexus Force (though, to be fair, they were mostly kept busy by the
fake creatures of chaos anyway)), he saw something in one of the alleyways. The
word “Maelstrom” illuminated in magenta mist, like some maelstrom energy has
solidified itself to spell out the work. He had never seen anything like it
before. He looked away – and it followed his gaze, dematerializing and
reappearing in front of a house *by*
the alley as he turned his head, ensuring that it never fell out of his line of
sight. That was definitely *not*
normal. Normal mist behaviour, normal maelstrom behaviour, normal anything
behaviour. It was time to investigate.

There was a very bright streetlight on the other side of the
street, between him and the suspicious alleyway. If he walked near it, even as
a shadow, he’d probably be noticeable. His best bet, he reasoned, was to use
the cover of the chaos to sneak across the road. He looked to the left, and to
the right, marvelling at the irony of looking both ways before crossing the
road, even in circumstances such as this. The whole street was still in
complete chaos – even the soldiers that had come to the realisation that they
couldn’t do any damage to this “maelstrom” and visa versa were still trying to
swat it away and sort out the mayhem. It was as good of a diversion as he could
have imagined, and he seized the change to sprint across the street. An image
of a stromling – a maelstrom being that had once been a human – ran at him, but
he let it pass directly through him and kept running. He dived under large
creatures and made sure to keep out of the fields of view of the Nexus Force,
and a few short moments that *felt*
like very very long moments later, he was across and by the place where the
word “maelstrom” had appeared. What had been happening? Where had-

He paused. There was something in the shadows of the alleyway with
him. Stepping forward, just close enough so Aaron could make it out, was a
person. Sort of. It was hard to tell. They looked like they were on fire,
wreathed in dark flames, and Aaron reached out before realising that this
figure, whoever they were, was *made*
of flames that were jet black. It stepped forward again. He was torn between
screaming for help and going on the attack. Was it an illusion? He didn’t know.
It didn’t look like any maelstrom creature that he had ever seen before, that
was for sure.

Before anything else could happen, however (and Aaron wasn’t
entirely sure *what* would have
happened at that moment), reality seemed to warp a little.

“Don’t”he heard reverberate through his
brain.

Okay, seriously, *what the*
hell was that*. Had that been the thing? Had it talked? He didn’t know. And*
right that moment, just to make things MORE complicated, someone else crept
forth from the shadows. No. Not something. This time, it was quite clearly
someone.

A woman stepped forward from complete darkness and into the dim
light of the alleyway. She was wearing a grungy, muddy, and too-large red
hoodie, and what looked like leggings. One of her feet was clad in a thick sock
and a flat-soled dress shoe, while the other had a hiking boot on it. She
reached forward, the hoodie’s too long sleeves obscuring her hands up to the
fingers.

“Please, please, please be right. Please let something go right
for once.” She muttered, seemingly more to herself than to Aaron. Her eyes –
round and dark brown, with short lashes – narrowed as she focused on him
properly. One of said eyes was partially obscured by the black curls that fell
around her face. Addendum: mostly black. As he looked closer, he could see
streaks and stripes of grey amongst it. Which… seemed weird, considering she
looked younger than him otherwise. Then, she spoke again:

“Are you Maelstrom?”

The question took him by surprise. It wasn’t a question that had
been asked in fear or anything, like the guy who’d asked him earlier. This
time, the asker sounded more curious than anything else. And- and possibly
hopeful?

He realised he hadn’t answered yet, and cleared his throat in what
he hoped was at least a kind of impressive manner.

“Yes, yes I am.” He said.

She wilted, legs almost buckling. She looked exhausted, but the
expression on her face – it was one of relief.

The person made of fire (and okay, he was still lost on that one,
but whatever) stepped forward towards her, but she held her hand up again –
this time in a flat-palmed “stop” gesture – and it stopped walking towards her.
She leant on one of the bins in the alleyway, breathing heavily. Then, she
turned to face Aaron again. There was a new fire in her eyes.

“Then I- I might not die.” She said, which was… concerning. For a
number of reasons. “Okay, okay, um- I need you to come with me. Please.”

Aaron didn’t think he’d ever been given an order so uncertainly
before. However, though he *was* super
curious, there was a slightly higher priority to deal with.

He pointed back at the street, where the strange illusionary
maelstrom creatures continued to cause ruckus and harass members of the Nexus
Force. “Do you, uh, know what’s happening over here?” He asked. “Because I’ve
just gotten here, and I haven’t the foggiest, honestly.”

“Oh? Oh!” To his surprised the woman- laughed? No, it wasn’t
really a proper laugh, but it was a smile and an exhale. Which was still
unexpected. “No- I, uh, that’s… that’s just me. My power. What I can… do. Uh-”

“You’re doing that?” Aaron turned back to the street, and then
back to her, and then back to the street. He had to be missing something. “Uh,
what is it specifically that you are doing?”

He got his answer soon enough.

The maelstrom creatures (or the *images* of them, he supposed, considering they had never really been
there to begin with) all of a sudden flickered, like a faulty video – and then
vanished altogether. The noise of battle stopped. The soldiers let their
weapons drop and looked around dumbly as their sort-of opponents vanished into
thin air. Aaron turned back to the woman.

“*What the heck was that*?”
He said in a gasp-slash-hiss. Because it had been an illusion. It totally *had* been an illusion, and *she* had been the one to control it-?!

The woman nodded with an energy that contradicted the massive bags
under her eyes.

“Yes! Yes, that was me. Can we-” She seized his hand. “I can do
things, just like- just like you.”

“Like… me?” Aaron trailed off as he realised that she was right.
Well, sort of right. He couldn’t make images appear, and she hadn’t shown that
she could actually control the maelstrom (yet, anyway). But in a basic sense,
she was right. They could both do things.

“Right.” The woman nodded. “Right.” She sighed. “Can we please… I
need your help.”

And that was what sealed it for him, because of course it was. He
couldn’t resist. It was almost sad, how quickly he fell into the role of
saviour every chance he got. But there was no time to ponder that. Someone
needed his help.

“Lead the way.” He ordered, reckoning that he sounded at least a
tad more confident than she did.

### ***CHAPTER 10: CON-VER-SA-TIOON ON THE ROOF (NAH NAH NAH NAH NAH)***

“First thing’s first.” Said Aaron. He was half-tempted to fold his
arms to look tough, but the woman looked so bedraggled and sorry for herself
that he couldn’t bring himself to do it. “Who are you, and why were you looking
for me?”

The three of them – Aaron, the woman, and the person made of fire –
had left the street in a hurry, and had gathered back up (“reconvened”, as some
people he knew might have said) on top of a building. He and the woman had both
climbed up said building’s drainpipe, and when he had made it to the top, the
guy made of fire had already been there, which hadn’t been worrying in the
slightest.

The night sky remained dark, except for the occasional flare of a
star visible beyond the fog that came free with living in a cityscape. The
buildings themselves were mostly dark, which made the few lights that were on
stand out all the more. Dimly, Aaron wondered if Plue and Will had their lights
still on. He didn’t think so. (Plue had been asleep when he’d left, and Will
was generally pretty good with timetables and self-care. Also, it was, like,
two in the morning.) If Aaron squinted hard enough, he could see the maelstrom
vortex – the source of the maelstrom – visible, hanging over their heads like
an executioner’s axe.  He decided to not
squint too hard.

The woman had been fiddling with the sleeves of her hoodie pretty
much the whole time, except for the bit where they’d been climbing the
drainpipe. As it turned out, she’d cut holes into the sleeves to fit her thumbs
through, to account for the length of the sleeves and make them function like
gloves – and was now picking away at a fraying string poking out around her
wrist. She’d hardly met his eyes at all, and it was giving him Plue flashbacks
(she’d used to be really bad at that too).

The fire guy had the *opposite*
problem, in that he hadn’t taken his eyes off Aaron once since they’d arrived
on the roof. He stood almost completely still, and his gaze was making Aaron
uneasy.

“U-us?” The woman said, looking between herself and the flame
dude. “I- um- well, he doesn’t… have a name.”

Aaron eyed the shadowy-fire person shiftily. The guy made no
reaction. Somehow, the fact that he apparently wasn’t *named* wasn’t really a source of comfort for him. Still, though,
that hadn’t really been what he’d been asking-

“Shadow.” He said, suddenly, not quite sure where the thought had
come from.

“Beg pardon?” The woman asked, tilting her head, looking as
surprised at Aaron as Aaron felt at himself. Still, though, he at least had a
vague idea of what his brain was telling him – and pointed a finger at the
figure.

“That can be his name.” He said. “Shadow.” In all honesty, he had
no idea why he’d decided to name the nameless guy made of black flames. Maybe
it was a coping mechanism, or something? All things considered, it wouldn’t
have surprised him. At the very least, the guy – Shadow – didn’t seem to not
like the idea of the name. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know what this guy would
look like if he got upset for whatever reason.

“Oh.” The woman blinked. She still looked surprised, like naming
the guy hadn’t even crossed her mind. Maybe it hadn’t. “I- well… I guess that
works.”

Aaron nodded, bemused and self-satisfied all at once. “Okay,
that’s that. But-” he turned his arm to point at her. “Who are *you*?”

Now the woman looked *very*
surprised. It was as though she hadn’t been addressed in a long time, or as
though she was unused to attention from people. Or… or something.

“Me?” She repeated, placing a hand over her chest in shock.

“Thee.” Confirmed Aaron, pointed at her harder. “You show up, and,
like… create an image? Or something? And then it turns out you’ve been looking
for me specifically, and I don’t even know why…? And I mean, I have no idea why
you’d want to look for *me*, because,
like… um…” He trailed off, realising that he’d been rambling. He was used to
being told that he’d rambled, but neither of his companions had actually said
anything, so he felt like a bit of a mug. Whoops.

“W-well…” The woman began to fiddle with the hoodie’s sleeves
again. “I… Roseanne. My name… is Roseanne.”

“Roseanne.” Aaron echoed. “Okay. Roseanne. I have…” he spread his
hands wide. “So many questions.” He pointed in the general direction of the
street where they had met. “You- that was you, right?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

He already knew, of course, but he figured it was best to, like,
have it reiterated. Because. Wow. “Those illusions- they were illusions,
right?”

She nodded again and said “Yes” again. Well. If it ain’t broke,
don’t fix it, he reasoned.

“Crazy realistic.” He complimented. “I had no idea they were, uh,
not real.”

This time around, she didn’t actually say anything. Hmm. Maybe she
didn’t appreciate the compliment? Well, it probably sounded a bit weird. It
wasn’t like he’d ever complimented illusions before either, so it was probably
a bit clunky or something. *Also*,
compliments weren’t exactly the point of the conversation, and while he had
been trying to be nice, he could respect someone who would rather just get on
with talking. So, get on with talking he did.

“Why did you make those illusions?” He asked her. That was
something he wasn’t sure he’d quite picked up on.

“To…” Roseanne tried to speak, trailed off, took a deep breath,
and then started again. “To get your attention. I needed to talk to you.”

*Ah*. That
was- well, that was impressive but also weird. At the forefront of his queries?
Why did she want to talk to him?

“Why do you want to talk to me?” He said out loud.

“I need… I need your help.” She said, before blinking awkwardly.
“I already said that, didn’t I?”

“I think so?” Aaron admitted. Roseanne bowed her head and pursed
her lips. “But- ah-! It’s fine, it’s fine!” He tried to reassure her. “No rush.
It’s… well, it’s fine.”

She stayed in that position for a few more moments, before raising
her head again. Hesitantly – but she did.

“Okay.” She said. “I- I- there’s, um… there’s this thing.” She
said. Very descriptive – but he didn’t be sarcastic out loud. He didn’t want to
discourage her. She breathed. “There’s a place. A facility. And it creates
people like- um, people like me.” She pointed to Shadow. “And people like him.”

“People like… you?” Aaron echoed. Presumably, she meant people who
were not normal. Probably people with abilities. It wasn’t like being made of
fire and being able to create illusions necessarily had many crossover points,
but people being generally weird *was*
one of them.

She nodded. “Yes.” And it was at this point that the light in her
eyes seemed to vanish. Her shoulders hunched and her face fell and all of a
sudden, she looked about a decade older (not least helped by the whole *partially grey-white hair* thing). “But,
it’s…” She swallowed. “It’s not a good place. It’s really not.”

The words were simplistic, but some aspects, that just made them
all the more looming. Like there was no point using flowery language to
emphasise anything. Not a good place. It could have meant anything, but it
filled Aaron with dread nonetheless.

“What do you mean?” He asked.

Roseanne looked over to Shadow, as if steeling her nerve. Funnily
enough, the guy actually nodded at her in an encouraging sort of way. Huh. Who
would have thought it? Maybe Shadow wasn’t super terrifying after all.

She spoke again: “People get taken – against their will – and they
go to this… to this place. And there they get given…” She looked down at her
hands – or, at least, presumably what she could see of them, given the hoodie. “Abilities.
And it’s different for everyone, but they go there, and they…” She trailed off.
She was shaking, he dimly realised. All of her limbs were quivering. “And they
don’t let you leave, they don’t let you leave, and-!” She gasped from the fear
and exhilaration of her tale, and stopped talking for a moment.

For his part, Aaron figured he understood – probably – but at the
same time, he wasn’t sure he got it. So, there was a place where people were *given* powers. Yeah. Okay.
Understandable, have a great day. But the forceful bit – well, something bad
was happening. That was obvious. Especially given how this woman – Roseanne –
was acting about it. She looked like a wreck (had she just escaped?) and she
was obviously terrified. Her emotions were genuine. Something wasn’t right.
But-

“Okay. I understand.” He was tempted to reach out, but then
figured that it wouldn’t have been the best idea. He had no idea how Roseanne
would react to something like that. He settled for holding his hands up in what
he hoped was a placating gesture. “Uh, don’t take this the wrong way, but,
like… why did you come to me with this?”

She looked at him with confusion.

“I mean, why me? Why not someone who can probably do more?
Someone-” He snapped his fingers. “The Nexus Force! You know, someone in charge
officially! This really sounds like something you should report, but-”

He trailed off at the sight of Roseanne vehemently shaking
her head. Like – wow. She was really against the idea. He figured that it had
something to do with a fear of authority figures, or something like that (and
it wasn’t as though he couldn’t get behind that idea, considering the problems *he’d* had with authority in his time),
but her next words delivered unto him news far worse than he had anticipated.

“I… I saw him.” She said, in a small voice. “The leader of
the Nexus Force. Or one of them, anyway. He was there. He was outside my cell.
He… was there. I saw him.”

“You… saw him?” Aaron repeated, dumbly. For a second, he was
just. Taken aback. Creepy superpower bestowing facilities was one thing. But
creepy superpower bestowing facilities endorsed by the same organisation that
protected the system and basically ruled everything was another thing entirely.
Then he remembered himself. “W- which one?”

Roseanna waved vaguely at her forehead. “Goggles.” She
eventually said. “Orange and white. He had mechanical arms on his back, l…
like- like little grabber arm things…” she trailed off, but Aaron reckoned he
had enough clues to identify the leader in question. The leader of the Assembly
faction, one Doctor Albert Overbuild.

On the one hand, Aaron was almost relieved. Somewhere in the
back of his mind, he’d wondered how culpable- well, not he himself (because he
sure as hell hadn’t known about this), but perhaps certain people he’d known
had been. (I.E. Plue, future leader of the Nexus Force, and her uncle, *current* leader of the Nexus Force.) But
the people he knew personally were of the Sentinel faction, meaning that there
was a logistical distance between them and Overbuild. Which was good news, if
Overbuild really *was* involved,
because it meant that it was less likely for them to be involved. Was it
selfish to think about stuff like that, considering the news that Roseanne had
just given him? He wasn’t sure. Probably. But he’d always been one for looking
at the bright side of a situation, for sure.

“Well, uh, okay.” He said, probably sounding like a total
numbskull. “But why did you come to me about it, then?”

“Because we’re…” Roseanne began to say, only to trail off.
She sighed. “Not the same, no. No. But… but we are similar!” She raised her
hand. A faint purple mist began to coil around it. It *looked* real – hell, Aaron figured he could even feel a slight chill
coming from it (although that could have just been him being imaginative or
something – but he blinked, and suddenly it wasn’t there anymore. “I can do
that,” Rose said, “and you can do-”

“I can do this.” Aaron smirked despite the situation, and
let electric tendrils run up and down his arms. It was all good fun until he
moved his hand a bit too fast or something – the tendrils coalesced into a bolt
of what looked like lighting and streaked into the thigh-high border/wall/thing
on the roof. It fizzed and sparked and sent smoke flying into the air. A bit of
grit hit Shadow on the head, although he thankfully didn’t make a fuss about
it. A chunk of rock toppled off the wall and onto the roof they were standing
on with a conspicuous *clunk*.

Roseanne and Aaron shared a glance. Ironically enough, in
that moment, as they stood there like two children who had just inadvertedly
caused a catastrophe, Aaron began to feel the first tendrils of the glorious
bond of friendship thread the two together.

He looked away, to Shadow, who was watching completely
impassively.

“Okay.” He heard himself saying. “I think it’s about time to
go.”

“G- go?” Roseanne sounded almost panicked as she turned
towards him. He realised that she may have thought he was trying to bring the
conversation to the end. Which was wrong. He hadn’t. “What do you mean?”

He held up his hands again. “I mean, you two should come
with me.” He thought about it quickly, but it wasn’t like he knew many other
places – especially places to keep these two. Wait, no, what about Plue and
‘Anna? He… well…

He figured he could *trust*
Roseanne and Shadow – at least, going on what he’d figured based on their
demeanours and interactions so far – so that wouldn’t necessarily be an issue.
Besides, if it came down to it, it wasn’t like he and Plue weren’t good
fighters in their own right. Hell, even ‘Anna wasn’t helpless. The issue was:
how could he explain to Plue who these people were, and how he’d encountered
them, without revealing the fact that he was the vigilante? Will already knew,
and he *did* want to tell her, kind of,
but these weren’t the terms he had been imagining having the discussion on.

Ah well. Beggars couldn’t be choosers.

“No, no, I’m not- I’m saying you should come to my flat!” He
reached out with one of his hands, feeling a bit like a pet owner trying to
prevent their jumpy animal from bolting off. “Look, I- I appreciate why you
came to me but this isn’t a problem I can solve straight away, and do you even
have anywhere else to stay?”

Roseanne, instead of answering, looked first at Shadow (who
folded his arms), and then at the floor. That was all the answer Aaron needed.

“At least, I’m not letting you stay on the streets or
wherever for any longer.” He said. “Come on. Let’s make like a hockey player.”

She rose an eyebrow at him. It took him a second to register
that maybe she didn’t get the joke, and when he did? Well, how did people not
know that joke? It was genius!

“You know?” He encouraged. “Make like a hockey player, and
get the puck out of here?”

Still no reaction. He tried to salvage the quip, but it was
really a losing battle from the start.

“You know? Because in hockey… they sometimes use a puck…?”
Nothing. “No?” He shrugged his shoulders – he knew when to call it quits.
“Okay. Let’s… let’s just go.”

### ***CHAPTER 11: NEXT STEPS***

Plue Abernathy liked to consider herself a rational person.
A person who could be objective, who could make good and unbiased decisions,
who could remain calm under any circumstances and, best case scenario, inspire
others to do the same. It was one of the attributes that ultimately made a
great leader, her uncle had told her. Rationality. Certainly, even if she had
never made plans to become a leader, she would have still aspired for that
status as a rational woman.

All that being said, however, there were still moments that
caught her unawares. That made her forget and abandon this ideal of
rationality, replacing it with plain old “what the cuss”. One such occasion was
when she woke up one morning, came downstairs wearing pants and a dressing gown
and nothing else, and happened upon her partner in deep conversation with two
strangers. One was a woman in filthy clothes, looking a little bit like she’d
taken several dips in a mud puddle, and the other… well, she had to rub her
eyes blearily to make sure she had actually been seeing properly. It looked
vaguely humanoid. It had legs and arms and a head. But the only sign of facial
features was a pair of crimson, slitted eyes – and its entire body was on fire
with black flames that just kept burning.

“What the shit.” She muttered, fumbling for the sword that
was normally around her waist and finding only air.

“Plue!” Aaron yelled, noticing her and standing up rapidly.
“Don’t panic, this isn’t… uh… this isn’t what it looks like?”

“I don’t even know what this looks like!” She protested,
hugging herself. The dressing gown was tied off at her waist, so it wasn’t like
she was indecent, but still. There was something disarming about being so
unprepared for a happening such as this.

“That’s fair.” Aaron admitted before hurrying over to her.
“Look, there’s a lot that I’m going to have to explain, but, uh… you can take
your time getting ready. I don’t want to rush you.”

Her gratitude at not being hurried was overwrought by her
annoyance at the fact that this was happening at all.

“A little warning would have been nice.” She muttered,
gripping onto Aaron’s shoulder for stability. Calm down, she told herself. No,
her brain said back to her. Fantastic.

Aaron winced, and she immediately felt bad.

“I’ll get over it.” She said. A hollow assurance. “Just tell
me why they’re here.”

Aaron winced *again*.
What had he even been *doing*?

“It’s a long story.” He admitted. “The abridged version is
that I found them last night, and they have something important to talk to you
– to us – about.”

“That is…” Plue trailed off, not quite sure what to think.
She eventually settled for “…very abridged.” Because it was. She knew that
Aaron had been doing *something*,
because she wasn’t an idiot and she knew him and had expected him to be a lot
more antsy, being cooped up for so long. Yes, he’d complained, but he hadn’t
actually acted all that different as the days of his recovery had gone by.
Ergo, he had to have been doing *something*
with himself.

Was what he had been doing linked to these people? Almost
definitely. The main question she had was what exactly had he been doing? She
supposed that she would have to ask him later, assuming he hadn’t told her
anything by then. (Because he may have.)

Still, though. One problem at a time. She had to focus on *something* to not get overwhelmed.

“So.” She managed to say, straightening herself up and
approaching the two figures sitting awkwardly on the sofa of their flat.
Really, the whole thing just felt like a huge mess. How had Aaron trusted these
people enough to let them in? She trusted his judgement, obviously, but under
normal circumstances, she would have at least had an idea of who these people
were before they came over (such was routine). The positive spin she could put
on the situation was that ‘Anna didn’t seem to be awake yet – at the very
least, she hadn’t left her room. Not that Plue didn’t appreciate the girl’s
company, but it looked as though she had enough to do without explaining the
situation to a child to boot. Hence: small mercies. “You said you wanted to tell
us something?”

“Y- yes.” Said the woman. Her gaze flickered between the
person made of fire and Aaron and her, and she shifted her position slightly on
the sofa. She was obviously as uncomfortable as Plue was, which made her feel
at least a little bit better. Misery loved company.

“Do you want me to do the talking, Rose?” Aaron interjected,
leaning forwards in what looked like curiosity. “Rose” nodded. Aaron turned
back to Plue and awkwardly put his hands into his pockets.

“Well.” Aaron said. “Okay. Uh, where to start…?”

“At the beginning?” Suggested Plue, with a hint of dryness.
Aaron smirked at her very briefly.

“That would work.” He admitted. “But, uh, I mean, I think…”
He rubbed his fingers together. “Plue, this is going to be difficult to hear.”

The words sent a jolt of adrenaline through Plue, and she
forced herself to calm down. Okay. It was going to be bad, it was going to be
bad, that was fine, she would make it through. It’d turn out well. The problem
– assuming it was a problem, which it probably was, because people wouldn’t be
so serious or afraid around news of the “light and breezy” variety – could be
fixed.

“According to what I’ve been told,” said Aaron, speaking
quite slowly like he was giving her time to register (which made Plue grateful
but also made her frustrated at herself for having to have time to register
things, but she forced herself to focus before slipping back down that rabbit
hole of self-criticism), “there is a secret project, or facility, or something,
that is based around giving people powers. Powers like mine. And it doesn’t
sound like they do things very ethically, if that makes sense.”

It did make sense, but it was worrying. Kind of. But she had
little time to dwell, because Aaron hadn’t finished speaking.

“The thing is, it apparently goes deep into the Nexus
Force.” Aaron said. He wasn’t exaggerating – she could tell. He sounded upset,
and he looked upset, and nobody telling a lie would have that sort of feeling
around them. “Very deep.”

“How deep?” She heard herself asking, dumbly repeating
words.

“I’m talking…” Aaron actually physically glanced over his
shoulder. It was a stupid thing to do, because it wasn’t like they were being
watched, but it was very significant nervous tic. She swallowed, even ~~nervouser~~
more nervous. “Look, Rose described someone involved who resembled Doctor
Overbuild too closely to be a coincidence.”

“As in, Doctor Overbuild of the four faction leaders? That
one?” Plue asked, sounding surprisingly firm as she did so. Maybe she’d
properly prepared herself for the shock, or maybe it just hadn’t hit her yet.
“So, one of the men running this entire system is involved?”

He nodded. “Yeah.” He glanced over to Rose, and then back at
Plue. “I don’t know by how *much* he’s
involved – I mean, he could just be a casual observer, it’s not like he’s
automatically the mastermind behind the whole thing – but he’s at least aware
of it exists.”

“That’s assuming that…” Plue realised she’d forgotten the
name of the woman sitting on her sofa, and indicated vaguely to avoid looking
negligent or rude. “…that she’s telling the truth.”

The woman flinched. Aaron nodded, considering. “Well, I
don’t think she’s lying, at any rate.”

Plue looked back over to the woman. She didn’t look like a
liar, she had to admit – even if she wasn’t particularly well-versed in what
liars typically looked like anyway. But the accusation was a serious one, at
any rate; and if it was true… what would the repercussions even be? She thought
to herself. She could certainly see the practical side of people being given
powers. She knew that Aaron wanted to fight with his (at least, she assumed –
he hadn’t told her directly, but she kind of figured), and she could definitely
see how useful it might be to both fight the maelstrom and otherwise keep the
peace when you could control fire and lasers and stuff.

The main problem in this instance was the apparent lack of
ethics involved. That was something she would definitely look into.

“So.” She said, still trying to gather her thoughts (she
hadn’t even had a morning hot chocolate, so she was still feeling rather out of
it). “There is a place where people are forcefully given powers like yours-”
she pointed to Aaron “-and… and then what? I’m assuming by the fact that we
haven’t seen superpowered individuals out and about means that something else
must be going on.”

“That’s the thing.” Aaron admitted, rubbing the back of his
neck.” Rose, uh, doesn’t know what they’re doing.”

Rose! *That* was her
name. Plue resolved to ensure that she would remember it. She experienced a
brief moment of determination and elation before the rest of what Aaron had
said hit her. “She- so she doesn’t know?”

“No.” Aaron confirmed. Both of them turned to Rose, who
shrank back a little under her combined gazes. Plue winced at the sight.

“I…” Rose actually began to make an effort to say something.
“The… sometimes it can take a long time, for… um…” She trailed off, clearly
trying hard to make the words come while struggling with it – whether it was
from social anxiety, or discomfort at retelling what had to have been dire and
traumatising experiences, Plue couldn’t say.

“I was there for a year, I think. Or maybe shorter, or
longer. I don’t- I don’t know.” She managed to say. “B-but it… it took… it took
a long time for it to actually work. The powers, I mean. I- they, um, I don’t
know… how it works…?”

“That’s okay.” Said Aaron encouragingly.

“Yeah.” Plue added, feeling compelled towards compassion.
“Don’t, uh, strain yourself. If it’s hard to remember, you don’t have to…” She
trailed off, not quite sure what to say. Rose shook her head.

“I have to.” She replied, simply.

“Okay.” Plue conceded. “The floor is yours.”

Rose gave a deep sigh, before beginning to speak:

“There’s… there’s something in human genetics, I think. That
lets them give people powers. And they… um, they activate it with an injection,
with a… with a formula they made. But, uh, sometimes it takes longer for it to
activate. So I… I spent months there before getting any powers. T- They
couldn’t just let me go, because of witnesses, but I didn’t spend a lot of the
time with the… the main body? I guess? Of the facility. I know it’s there, but-
but I don’t know how much is, um… I don’t know much about it. And then when I
did develop my powers…” She looked down, staring at her own hands as if she
wasn’t quite sure what they were or what they were doing on the ends of her
arms. “I kept them away.” She revealed. “Made them see things. Made them… made
them *feel* things. I- I- I couldn’t
let them near me, I…” She trailed off and looked back up, and Plue was startled
to see that there were tears in her eyes. “I…”

“Oh, Rose…” Aaron knelt down so that they were eye level.
“I’m so sorry.”

Rose sniffled. Plue folded her arms, trying to consider
everything.

“Well, obviously *something*’s
happened.” She said out loud. After a moment’s hesitation, she also  said: “I can’t make any promises, but believe
me when I say I’ll try to look into it.” Rose turned to look at her, and her
resolve grew. “Look, I- I have sway in the Nexus Force. Or, at least, I will.
Someday.” Her mind drifted to the succession. The duty that had been hanging
over her for a decade – the fact that someday, she would inherit the position
of leader from her uncle. “So, I’ll get to the bottom of this. I promise.”

Aaron nodded in approval. Rose didn’t react.

The guy made of shadows had, up until this point, remained
unresponsive to just about everything that Plue had done. She had, of course,
been keeping a wary eye on him (because his presence wasn’t one that could be
easily looked past, all things considered), but he hadn’t actually made a move
to make Plue either worry *more* around
him, or worry *less* around him.

Now, he stood up. And he turned to her. And their eyes (if
you could call what he had eyes) met.

“You…” She started to speak, but stopped, not sure what he
was trying to say. Well, maybe “say” wasn’t the right word. She wasn’t sure.
“What’s your story, anyway?”

“I don’t know.” Aaron said, helpfully. “He’s been with Rose
this whole time, but beats me as to why. And it’s not like he’s said anything
about it.”

Plue turned to Aaron indignantly. “You’re just going to
speak about him as if he’s not here?”

Aaron shrugged. “He doesn’t mind!”

Plue turned back to the person made of flames. Certainly,
they gave no reaction – but it wasn’t as though their face was that expressive
anyway.

“What’s his name?” She asked, before realising something.
“Assuming it’s a *he* at all.”

“It’s a he.” Aaron confirmed. “And his name is “Shadow”.”

“Shadow?” Plue echoed. She supposed that it fit from a
certain perspective, but… something more accurate would have been “fire”.
Something cooler would have been… “Shade”, or “Wisp”, or something like that,
assuming the Shadow motif was a given at all.

It was at this point that she realised she was internally
debating Shadow’s name instead of focusing on any other part of the situation,
and allowed herself a moment of internal screaming before focusing back on the
matter at hand.

“He helped save me.” Rose interjected from her position on
the sofa. Aaron and Plue both stared at her in surprise. Rose looked to each of
them, before looking back down at her hands. “He… I- I was trying to get out,
and they… they told him to stop me, and he…” She trailed off, but it still left
them with less questions. So, Shadow had helped her to escape from this place
after being ordered to stop her. Why he’d done this, Plue wasn’t sure – she
supposed he could have had an ulterior motive, or he could have done it out of
altruism. Maybe both. In all honesty, Shadow’s motive was one of the least
pressing matters she’d been burdened with that morning, so she resolved to look
into it later if she had to.

“So, just to recap.” Aaron said, beginning to flick through
points on his fingers. “Strange facility-slash-place that gives people powers.
People high up in the Nexus Force – possibly *incredibly* high – are involved. You and Shadow both escaped. And…”
he hesitated. “You sought *me* out
because you figured I could be trusted if I had powers myself – at least,
trusted more than the Nexus Force.”

Plue raised an eyebrow. That last statement raised several
questions, not least:

“When did they even tell you that?”

Aaron shrugged. “I’m making inferences.” He admitted. “But I
don’t think I’m wrong.”

“You’re not wrong.” Rose confirmed in a quiet voice. Aaron
fist-pumped.

Plue rolled her eyes – but she could also feel herself
smile.

“Yes, well.” She said. “I’m curious as to how they knew you
had powers in the first place.”

Aaron’s face fell. Plue wanted to laugh, but was also keenly
aware of a sinking feeling in her gut.

“But.” She said, with forced flippancy. “We can discuss that
later, I’m sure.” She folded her arms. “Right now, we need to plan our next
steps. If there really is a place that’s forcing superpowers onto people and
holding them against their will – under the jurisdiction of the Nexus Force, to
boot – somebody should definitely do something about that.”

“By somebody,” Aaron said, raising a hand like a
schoolchild, “you mean us, right?”

Plue made finger guns in his direction.

“W… what do we do?” Rose asked, which surprised Plue a bit –
she hadn’t expected Rose to willing take a proactive stance, all things
considered. But when she looked back at Rose, there was something colder and
firmer in her gaze. A certain determination. Dimly, she noted that anyone who
had been through was Rose seemed to have been through and survived it must be
in possession of a great amount of inner strength.

“The three of you-” she pointed at Aaron, and Shadow, and
then at Rose, “can hold the fort here for the time being.” She turned to Aaron
and put her hands on her hips in a display of authority. “Aaron, it’s going to
be your job to explain this – and them – to ‘Anna. And Will. And Kaylori, the
next time she comes over.”

Aaron groaned loudly as Plue chuckled at the sight. In all
honesty, she really did trust him, and reckoned that he would provide her with
an explanation of what exactly he’d been getting up to with his powers that had
led to this peculiar situation in good time. But even if she could understand
why he hadn’t told her about it (because there’s no way she would have let it
happen), it still annoyed her that he had left her out of the loop and endangered
himself *again*, so she let herself
draw some cheap catharsis from delivering unto him his difficult task.

“As for me,” she continued, “I’ll see what I can do in…”
Here, she paused to consider. She had been going to say “official channels”,
but if Overbuild really was involved, there was no telling how deep within the
Nexus Force the conspiracy went, and she would be hard-pressed to find official
channels that she could call trustworthy.

Still – it wasn’t as though she didn’t have friends in the
Nexus Force. She could get help from *some*
places.

“Official-ish channels.” She said, decidedly.

Aaron nodded. Rose looked to them slightly nervously, but
gave no dissent. Shadow (as was seemingly his *thing*) gave no real indication of anything. Plue took it as a
positive sign.

“Alright,” said Plue, standing up and beginning to walk back
upstairs, “I’m going to get dressed and ready, and then I’m heading out to work
on this little problem.” As her feet hit the stairs, she thought of a final
point.

“Don’t destroy the flat while I’m working!”

### ***CHAPTER 12: NEXT STEPS 2***

It was a good couple of hours later that Plue found herself
on her way to where she worked – Nexus Tower, the headquarters of the Nexus force
and where her office was based. The tower itself was enormous – she didn’t even
know *how* many stories high it was,
but it was tall enough to legitimately scrape the clouds that formed over the
planet chunk it was situated on. It was the shape of a spire, starting off flat
and growing thinner and thinner as it rose, like a giant upturned needle. Instead
of a single tip topping the spire, there were instead multiple edges that rose
higher than the centre, which gave way to a blue beam of light that arced even *further* up into the sky, stretching up
and up and up until… well, there was no until. It arced as far as the eye could
see, cleaving a path through space to who knew where. That was the Nexus – the
eternal energy source, the thing that the Nexus Force had been named after, and
the only known substance that could effectively repel the maelstrom. The tower
had been built around it as a protective measure, or so she’d been told. As she
observed the thick metal plating coating just about every inch of the tower,
making it look as much like an armoured vehicle or spaceship as anything else,
she thought that she could believe it.

The area right around the tower looked like a
mini-metropolis, with other large buildings (though nothing nearly as immense
in scale) bustling with life, and ground roads sending transports shooting
through the civilisation at almost breakneck speed. Though, Plue mused, she
couldn’t exactly make much of a comment on that. Her own transport – a daily
“too and fro” service shuttle called *The*
Targus *– was one of the faster ships that cut through the atmosphere and*
rocketed towards the tower to land on one of the protruding landing pads that
were commonplace all up the tower.

Beyond the civilisation was miles upon miles of bleak,
maelstrom-infected wasteland. The planet chunk that the tower had been built on
– Crux Beta – was one of the largest that had been left behind after the
cataclysm, but almost all of it had been quickly swarmed by maelstrom. It was
almost as though it was attracted to its antithesis. Though Plue couldn’t help
but wonder: the maelstrom coalescing particularly heavily around the one thing
that could destroy it seemed almost the mark of something with a consciousness.
Something that knew what it was vulnerable to and wanted to destroy it more
than anything else.

There were rumours, she remembered, that the maelstrom was
more than just a strange infectious source. That it had some kind of hive mind,
or collective consciousness – or even that it had a commanding entity, like a
battle commander or something of the sort. Plue herself was open to the idea - she had seen instances where the maelstrom looked to have some kind of sentience -
but hadn’t seen any confirmation one way or another, so she hadn’t considered
it much. Now, as she looked out over the desolation surrounding their
universe’s last beacon of hope, she couldn’t help but wonder.

The Targus slowed down as it drew up by the tower, main
thruster deactivating. Everyone else on the shuttle (it was reserved for
higher-ranking members, but it was still technically a public transport
service) seemed to come out of whatever stupor they had been in – although
maybe that was Plue projecting, considering she’d been in her own pensive
stupor for most of the journey – and unbuckled themselves from the craft,
pushing up off of the seats and gathering by the door as the ship touched down.
Plue flicked to a new song on her player before adjusting her headphones and
rising herself.

The back end of the shuttle opened up into a ramp, seals
releasing with a hissing noise like a peeved snake. As one, the crowd swarmed outwards
and onto the platform, powerwalking (or just normally walking, in the cases of
some unhurried individuals) to wherever they needed to be that day. Plue was
one of the first ones to break away, walking ahead of the main group. Over the
course of her morning, she’d come up with something that couldn’t, in all good
conscience, be called a full “plan”, but it was a decent chunk of one. Official
channels – or anything similar to – required hard evidence, and that was only
going to be more important if one of the faction leaders really was involved in
something as unethical as what Rose had apparently gone through.

The fact, of course, that Overbuild was a faction leader
also complicated things very much as far as trust went. She wasn’t quite sure
who she wanted to get in touch with, but she was certain that she wouldn’t dare
tell anyone in the Assembly faction about it, on the off chance that Overbuild
had brought them in on it for whatever reason. Did she believe that the entire
faction was evil? No. Her mind flicked to Kaylori, who seemed nice enough, as
well as the other people she was familiar with within Assembly. But it was
better to be safe than sorry, which meant that her pool of potential allies had
been cut down by twenty-five percent, just like that.

The wind whistled in her ears as she walked across the
platform to the entrance. Her bangs wafted in and out of her field of vision,
buffeted by the strong breeze. They were kind of distracting, visually, but
they also made her feel a bit cool, so it was something of a trade-off.

The entrance itself was a gaping open doorway that led into
a shining porcelain interior, full of hallway decorations and (in some places)
coated with extra protective coverings.
She’d been inside of ships before, of course, but Nexus Tower’s sleek,
almost chrome-like design looked a lot like the stereotypical ideal of a
spaceship – some kind of sterile, other-worldly looking environment where
exciting things happened. The white hallways practically gleamed, shining like
polished metal. The floors were several different colours based on what faction
was situated in what area of the tower – the floor she was standing on had blue
decals and patterning, indicating that she was in Sentinel territory.

The thought of factions reminded her of the Assembly
faction, which reminded her of Overbuild, which reminded her of the place that
gave people powers, which reminded her what she was doing there in the first
place. This in turn served to remind her of her purpose – her sort-of plan – and
effectively bestowed upon her a burst in focus. Concentration renewed, she took
a deep breath to ready herself before marching onward, listening to the low hum
of the pipes that ran above her head and below her feet as she walked.

She knew that the best thing to do would be to conduct an
investigation of some kind into Overbuild, to see whether or not he really *was* responsible, but she was reluctant
to do so. Aside from the fact that she had known the man, if informally, for a
while, and was unwilling to really believe that he could be involved in
something so shady, there was the fact that his seniority in the force (even
when compared to her) meant that- well, he wouldn’t be immune to investigation,
obviously, because no-one was. But it would surely be easy for him to
manipulate the results to better suit him, and then discredit or strike back at
her.

There was more politics involved in the Nexus Force than a
lot of people realised; for the most part, it was assumed that they just ran
things like one would run a company. And that was true to an extent, but the
force had ultimately extended its influence to the point where it at least had
a say in the ruling of just about every habituated area in the system – and it
was also held in very high regard in those areas. Control the right branch of
the Nexus Force, you essentially controlled places. Ruled them. And that meant
that leaders were chosen… well, “very seriously” wasn’t the right word, but
their roles were important, highly moderated and influenced, under constant
scrutiny… and very sought after by a great deal of people.

It meant that if she, Duke Exeter’s niece and heir, called
an investigation on Overbuild and turned up nothing, it would be extremely bad
for her reputation within the force, and might even cause her to lose her place
*as* said heir. She knew that Duke had
been under a lot of pressure to choose a successor, and some people who fancied
either themselves or someone she knew as leader had been unimpressed when he
had announced that it would be her. The last thing she wanted was to give those
people any reason to oust her from the responsibility she’d trained so hard to
inherit.

In short: things would have to remain as low-key as
possible.

Thankfully, she could say that she knew trustworthy people.
So, her first step, she reasoned, was to get in contact with them, fill them in
on the situation, and see what they could do to help. So that was going to be
step one. She was drawn out of her thoughts a little by the realisation that
she had actually arrived at her office. Not wanting to waste any time, she
placed a hand on a pad beside her door. The pad made a soft bleeping noise as
it recognised her “signature”, and the door slid open almost completely
soundlessly, leaving her path into the room itself unobstructed.

If someone was being generous, they may have used the term
“organised mess” or “untidy” to describe her office space. Plue, however,
wasn’t normally so generous with herself, and would freely admit that it was an
utter cussing disgrace. The cleaners who were constantly at work in the tower
reportedly had crises whenever it was time to clear *her* room up, and Duke had once searched for a specific document for
fifteen minutes and been unable to find it because of how many random papers
and other knickknackeries were strewn about the place (she’d later found it
between a notepad of scribbles for a story she’d never write and a form on
“inappropriate use of toiletries and the definition of”).

Stepping over a few papers and sitting down in her wheelie
chair, she reached into her pocket and unsheathed a phone, before scanning it
for a couple of specific numbers. It was time to bring in the people she *could* trust.

A quick text was all that was necessary – *“Meet me in my office*”, and she fired
them off to both parties with little hesitation. Then, as she waited, she began
to think about what ought to happen next. How was an investigation to be
conducted below the radar while still being legal? If the worst happened, and
she *was* discovered, it was best to
not exacerbate the situation by actually doing something that could get her in
trouble officially. Besides, she remembered, it was very unlikely that evidence
collected through illegitimate means would even hold up if it was ever used in
any sort of official capacity.

A soft alert sounded throughout the office. Jumping a little
bit (that had felt quite quick), she stood up and let the door open from her
side. Into the room stepped an extremely large man – tall and muscular. A
grenade-launcher-type weapon (an experimental device called a “Broadsider”) was
strapped to his back, but he toted it around as though it was a light backpack.
He was dressed “formally” in a thick blue button-down shirt, though said shirt
had none of the buttons done up, and the sleeves were rolled up past his
forearms. For modesty’s sake, he was wearing a dark green undershirt. His hair
was black and curly, and there was a scruff on his jawline, as though a beard
had made a valiant attempt to grow but had ultimately failed.

She shook his hand, which was littered with scars from the
years he had (allegedly) spending growing up in a desert with his parents.

“You’d better have something good for me.” He told her
immediately, his authoritive words clashing with both his neutral-sounding
voice and the smirk he had on his face. “I was about to watch the *Clockstoppers* season finale.”

“Vector, you know me, and I know your schedule.” Plue
reassured him. “I wouldn’t have called you here if it wasn’t anything
important.”

“I should bloody well hope so!” Proclaimed Vector, planting
his hands on his waist. “You may be my superior someday, but right now, I still
outrank you!” Not that he was wrong, seeing that he was the fresh leader of the
Venture League faction. He was still smiling (albeit a bit viciously), and he
wasn’t so tense that it sounded as though he was genuinely peeved, so Plue
could safely assume that he was mostly joking around. That, and she knew him.
He wasn’t a massively aggressive guy when it came down to it. She was lucky,
she reasoned, that Vector only *attempted*
to act tough without having his heart in it. He could probably have been
extremely intimidating, were he ever to give it a proper try.

“Believe me,” Plue said, trying to keep the conversation at
a certain level of formality, “I wish it was a small issue I could solve with a
wave of my hand. But I need help with it.”

Vector frowned for the first time. “So, what’s the sit?” He
asked. (“sit” being short for “situation” – it had taken Plue a little while to
get used to the terminology.)

“I’ll explain in a bit.” She assured him. “We’re just
waiting for Dilip to arrive first. All things considered, I figured this would
be a bit more than a two-person job.”

In a case of “speak of the devil and he will appear”, Dilip
himself chose that moment to step through the still-open door and raise a hand
in greeting.

“Hey.” He said, terse as ever. Technically dressed in the
customary reds and blacks of the Paradox Faction, Dilip was a short and lithe
man in clothing mostly dark and plain, the only exception being silver pieces
of armour on his person that were accented with bright red decals. He wasn’t as
highly-ranked as Vector, or even as Plue, but he was still a voice of authority
within his faction, and he was someone who Plue believed that she would trust
freely. His hair was close-cropped, and unlike Vector, he was mostly
unexpressive and un-bombastic.

“Henlo!” Boomed Vector, further emphasising their
differences in mannerisms. Laughing to herself a little, Plue stepped past the two
men to shut the door, checked that it was locked, then circled back around them
and the desk to plonk herself back down into the wheelie chair.

“Gentlemen.” She said, sternly. “I’ve called you here today
because we have on our hands what can only be described as a “situation”.”

Having said this, she began to relate to them what Rose had
revealed (without giving away anything about her identity – she figured it
would probably best to leave Rose personally out of it, at least for now, and
give her some time to recover), and the suspicions that had thus been cast on
Overbuild. Not wanting to be heavily questioned, she also did tell them a
little bit about how Rose had been found and how they had met one another,
which was easier than she’d thought it would be, seeing as how Aaron had been
vague to begin with when relaying that particular story. Hmm. Still
questionable, but in this instance, she wasn’t going to complain.

Once she’d finished the… well, it wasn’t really a “tale of
woe” or anything like that, but circumstance made it seem as though it was
dramatic enough to be referred to as such. Tale? Story? Story worked. Once
she’d finished telling the story, both men had lost just about all semblance of
geniality, and were staring at her with an intensity appropriate to their
positions. Vector, in particular, was very visibly thinking hard about the
situation. Dilip seemed less shaken, but he had always struck Plue as a man of
unemotive character, meaning that it made sense that he’d be less visibly
shaken by her suspicions.

“The Doc…” Vector muttered, referring to Overbuild. “He
wouldn’t, right?”

He was well within his rights to be suspect, Plue reasoned.
Overbuild was a slightly enigmatic individual – and certainly, not a very
personable person (Plue found herself relating to him on occasion) – but as one
of the founders of the Nexus Force, he was still very much a respected man in
all capacities. She’d have to dig through a lot of hero worship if she was ever
going to get the facts of the situation.

“He might.” Dilip pointed out. “There’s only so much public
about him and his activities.”

“Yeah, but… he couldn’t have been doing that.” Vector said,
simply. “He would have been found out by this point, right?”

Plue shrugged. “He may have just covered his tracks very
well.” She pointed out. “Don’t forget, Vector, he’s a faction leader, as well
as a founder. He’s bound to have a lot of influence within the organisation –
maybe he exploited that?”

“Or maybe,” suggested Dilip, “he hasn’t been doing it for a
long time, and there haven’t been reasonable opportunities for him to be caught
out.”

Plue nodded. “*Or*
it could have been a one-off visit.” She admitted. “That’s the point. We don’t
know.”

Vector leaned back where he stood, staring up at the
ceiling. “And we need to find out desperately?” Plue made an incredulous noise,
and he turned back to look at her, sounding a little flustered as he kept
talking. “Like-! I’m sure it’s important, it sounds important, but we don’t
want to rush into something like this, do we?”

Plue steepled her fingers as she stared at the two men
standing before her.

“The witness,” she said, unwilling to name Rose at this
moment in time (for the girl’s own safety, mostly), “wasn’t lying. I mean, yes,
we didn’t take an official lie-detecting test or anything like that, but…” She
thought back to the emotions that Rose had openly shown, the difficulty that
she had clearly had when it came to discussing the issue. “I have no reason to
suspect that she’s lying.” She eventually settled on saying, in a most
diplomatic manner. The two men both stared directly at her, which was slightly
unnerving. Like they were waiting for orders, but also like they were
anticipating her to say something wrong. It was probably just her nerves
talking (speaking to people had *not*
become much easier over the years). She felt a small shudder go down her spine.

“Our main problem is that there’s so much we don’t know.”
She explained. “We’ve got one witness-” She suddenly remembered Shadow. Did he
count as a witness? He must have seen something, presumably, but he hadn’t said
anything one way or another. There was the fact that he was… a person made of
fire. “Well, one witness and also enough proof to verify that *something* to do with beyond-natural
abilities is going on.” She felt a bit bad, letting Shadow, whoever he was,
drop to the status of proof, but hey, things like that happened when you were
making up speeches as you went along. “Unfortunately, as much as I’d like to
just announce our findings and bust in with a task force, I don’t think that’s
the best course of action. I mean… well, what if we’re wrong?”

“You’d look a fool. We’d look like fools.” Dilip said. Plue
nodded in affirmation.

“It’d be a scandal and an affront and we’d all pay with our
careers.”

“I get it.” Vector held up his hands. “Doom and gloom, the
situation requires delicacy – not really sure why you told *me* about it, if that really is the case – I get it. The question
is: what. Do. We. Actually. Do?”

“Nothing illegal.” Plue said. Vector’s face seemed to fall a
bit. She was reminded of Aaron at that moment, and had to restrain herself from
smiling. “Essentially,” she continued, “we have to run the gannet of keeping
this investigation on the down-low, while making sure that we’re not actually
doing anything suspicious. Because on the one hand, we can’t give anyone the
idea that we’re doing anything, because the fact that we don’t know anything
means that we have absolutely no idea how far this goes – I’m only calling the
two of you in because I’m absolutely sure I can trust you.”

“So, we want to ensure that nobody catches on to the fact
that we’re launching an investigation.” Said Dilip, fiddling absent-mindedly
with one of the knives strapped to his waist (there were several, Plue dimly
noted). “Because we don’t know who we can trust.”

“Exactly.” Plue confirmed, pointing at him with both hands.
“But – at the same time – we can’t actually do anything illegal or generally
immoral, because if we get caught doing that… well, I doubt we’d come out of it
smelling the roses.”

Dilip nodded. “That, and evidence gathered through such
means won’t hold up in a court of law, assuming that’s where we find ourselves
further on down the line.”

Ah, so she *had*
been right. “Yes.” She said, as though she’d known that all along and hadn’t
had it confirmed in her mind until just that very moment. “Can I leave you,”
she continued, gaze flicking between one man and the other, “to begin working
on that?”

A moment’s silence from both men. It was Vector who nodded
first.

“You want me to keep an ear out? I’ll keep *both* ears out.” He proclaimed – making
Plue wonder whether or not he understood the fact that that saying wasn’t
typically literal. “I’ll also look over Venture League expenses and peoples. If
our funds are going missing, or if people are registered somewhere they’re
not…” He had been counting these points on his fingers, and here he hesitated,
as though he’d run out of points. He eventually settled for flailing his hands
about and stuffing them back into his pockets. “Whatever.” He declared in a way
that was almost certainly supposed to imply that he cared less than he really
did. (It didn’t work.) “The point is; if I see anything out of place, I’ll take
a note of it and let you know.” His face contorted with displeasure. “…And I
guess I’ll try and pay attention to what the other leaders say in meetings.
Especially Overbuild.”

“You’re implying that you don’t already?” Plue asked him
innocently, raising an eyebrow.

“Put a sock in it.” He told her, waving away with one hand –
though his smirk had already returned.

Dilip chose that time to nod, solemnly.

“I shall help you as well.” He said. “Odd as though this
affair may be, I believe in it’s severity. We cannot sit back and do nothing.”

Plue felt a well of satisfaction rise within her at the
sound of someone sharing her mindset, but suppressed it in favour of something
that at least resembled a professional decorum.

“Yes- well- thank you.” She said, smiling. Dilip seemed to
get it.

“My own investigations can be a little broader.” He said. “I
do not have the same necessary presence as the two of you. I can investigate
more intensely, so long as I am not given any assignments by Ms. Darkflame.
Those take priority.”

Plue nodded understanding – at the end of the day, members
of a faction were first and foremost loyal to their leader – and for the
Paradox Faction, that leader was the mysterious sword-wielding Vanda Darkflame.

“Just don’t get into too much trouble.” She told him,
feeling her smile grow a little wary. She appreciated him – both of them –
helping her of course, but she wasn’t sure if she wanted any issues they ran
into to be on her conscience.

It was Dilip’s turn to smirk. “Trouble can’t find me.” He said,
simply, before walking back towards the door and letting it open, idly waving
without looking back and turning to the right. Vector stared after him,
hesitated a moment, and then darted back to the doorway, looking both ways
before turning to Plue with a crestfallen expression. His mountainous shoulders
drooped.

“How does he do it?” He complained. Plue could only assume
he was referring to Dilip’s vanishing act, and that the corridor was completely
free of him. Dilip *did* seem to have
the ability to vanish into thin air, she mused. She’d seen it before. It was
incredible.

“I don’t even know.” She admitted, before waving him off.
“You should probably go too. No doubt you have something scheduled.”

Vector didn’t bother with a formal goodbye – at her words, his
eyes widened, and he was sprinting off down the corridor with an utterance of
“shit!” before she could say anything else. Her door hissed shut, and she sank
back down into her chair. Forced herself to breathe a little – because yes, she
had organised it and made it happen but it had still been a change in schedule
and it had still been *stressful* –
before sitting back up and beginning to dig through her files again. Taking
things – as she always did – one step at a time.

### ***CHAPTER 13: FASHION DISASTER***

Will pressed send on the button, finally sending off his
“plan” to Kaylori. Breathing a sigh of relief, he eased himself back into his
chair a final time before fully registering that he had to get up and head off
that moment if he wanted to meet her after her appointment with Aaron. Not that
it would mean disaster if he hadn’t, of course, seeing as they now had each
other’s contact information, but considering how late he’d managed to come up
with an “idea” and send it to her, he figured it was best to stick to
established routine in the meantime. Groaning a little to himself, he sat up,
then stood up, then began to walk.

“I’m going out, ma, pa.” He called as he arrived by the
front door, searching through the coat rack for his favourite. (The green one.)

“Oh!”

Will didn’t have to look up as he heard the footsteps
stumbling down the stairs. It was only when they came to a halt – not so far
from him – that he looked up to see his mother. She eyed him with a little
concern and a little resignation.

“You’re going out again?” She asked him. It was a fair
question – she had probably assumed that he would have spent more time of his
leave (because of course, when Aaron was injured, he volunteered to help and
use his leave to keep an eye on him, and of course he would have been working
otherwise) at home, relaxing. And he was severely tempted. Certainly, in the
coming days, he had every intention of doing so. However, he had engagements
planned that day, and they were engagements that he had to honour.

“Aaron...” He said, by way of explanation. His mother slowly
nodded in a sage-like manner. They’d known Aaron long enough to understand he
was an explanation in his own right.

“Don’t be too long.” She cautioned him – old habits died
hard, he reasoned. It wasn’t as though he’d always been a fully-grown man
perfectly capable of defending himself.

“I’ll try not to be.” He said, pulling her into a brief hug.
“I’ll hopefully just be a few hours.”

She nodded in understanding. “See you later, then.”

“Bye.” He broke away from the embrace and waved softly over
his shoulder before opening the door and sliding out of it in one fluid
movement. He heard it shut behind him with a certain finality, like the lid of
a coffin being slammed shut. He was being fanciful, of course – he certainly
wasn’t expecting anyone to die anytime soon – but that coupled with the goodbye
was enough to sink under his skin, a nagging thought and a worry that nestled
itself confidently into his subconsciousness.

And now his imagination was running away from him.
Marvellous.

Sometimes he envied the others. His friends. Plue and Aaron,
though very different, were both in possession of a pinpoint focus. An iron
will. Aaron was entirely willing to roll with life’s punches and keep heading
towards his goal. Like a boxer taking and avoiding blows and yet still going on
the attack, still aiming for the knockout punch. Like the whole… vigilante
thing. He wanted to make a tangible difference and be out in the field helping
people, that was something he’d *always*
wanted. Barred from active service because of the nature of his condition? He’d
use his abilities to be productive anyway. It had probably been so obvious and
instant to him, as well.

Plue? She was stubborn, she was stable, she was resolute in
her convictions. The fact that she reacted badly to sudden changes in plan
notwithstanding (Will had seen that happen before, it had been… something), she
was very good at keeping herself on track and ultimately making sure that what
she wanted remained a priority – and that she would keep herself on that path,
no matter what.

That was really the difference between them, Will mused
further as he walked. Aaron had no qualms about switching things up, or
changing tactics, for the sake of achieving his overall goals. Plue was the one
who stuck to her guns and remained consistent no matter what. To simplify, he
was the unstoppable force, while she was the immovable object.

He envied them. He was bad at keeping consistent, and at
keeping in line with what he wanted to do. How badly had he failed, for
instance, at making sure that Aaron had stayed safe? Even though he had *told* himself after the mine, made
himself *promise* that he wouldn’t let
his friend put himself in harm’s way again? And yet, three weeks later, he was
a full-blown vigilante, and Will had done nothing practical to stop him. He had
given up. Resigned himself to it.

His thoughts were fleeting, his mind an old soul with no
focus or conviction. He was reactionary. He didn’t have their ability to hunker
down and focus – hell, here he was on the way to convene with someone on a
fairly important matter, and here he was being introspective about his own
shortcomings. And now he was actively observing that!

He shook his head to clear the fluffy thoughts descending
upon him.

Right. Plan for Kaylori. What was it…? He struggled to
remember for a terrifying moment, still mostly too distracted. Eventually,
however, he was able to pull himself together and remember it. Ah, yes, right.
Seeing as he couldn’t actually outright tell Kaylori “ah, yes, Aaron’s spoken
to me and confirmed that he is actually the vigilante we saw on the news”, because
she’d certainly report it to her superiors and Aaron would certainly end up
screwed over by that, his best bet was to engage in diversionary tactics – that
is to say, find somewhere else she could focus on to get the pressure off his
friend (because whatever his personal thoughts may have been on the matter,
friends helped their friends out, damn it).

He'd been wracking his brains for days, trying to think of
something, and had eventually come up with *an*
idea – re-investigate the medical notes that had been made on Aaron while he
had been hospitalized, and see if any new information sprang up – anything that
could serve as concrete proof that Aaron was, in fact, the vigilante. Of
course, it may have sounded like a redundant task to Kaylori, but Will was
hoping that if he brought up the fact that she could compare any recent data
she’d collected on him with the initial sets and find differences between them,
*and* also rely on his amateur
perspective (because sometimes a different perspective could be useful), she’d
accept the idea. At least for today.

In all honesty, Will was genuinely curious about what the
notes could reveal – assuming they could reveal anything at all, of course.
Hopefully that genuine interest would shine through, and she wouldn’t realise
that he didn’t have an ulterior motive of misdirection.

Hopefully.

He arrived in that familiar hallway again to see Kaylori
already there, leaning on the wall beside the door to Aaron’s flat, checking a
watch. She looked up as she saw him, and smiled, and- *whoa hang on why did that fluster him*?? His fingers twitched. Aaron
was getting in his head. Him and his… assumptions. No way he’d thought that she
was cute in that moment. Absolutely no way.

“You made it.” She said, still smiling as though she was
genuinely pleased to see him. He couldn’t help but smile back.

“Yeah.” He said, dumbly.

Her smile morphed into more of a patronizing smirk. “Cutting
it a little late with that plan of yours, weren’t you?” She put emphasis on the
word “plan”, as if calling Will’s idea was a plan was generous or exaggerative
in some way. Oof. Will used that to throw away any ounce of flustered-ness he
may have been overcome with.

“What can I say?” He said to her. “I’ve been a little
stressed lately, all things considered.”

Kaylori nodded. Her fingers twitched in a fidget – though
what they were used to doing, Will couldn’t have known. “I can get that.” She
said. “I guess I’d be on edge too if my friend was a vigilante.”

Will winced at the certainty in her words. “If I *suspected* he was one.” He amended. “We
don’t have any proof yet.”

She pursed her lips, but nodded. He was glad for the
affirmation that her logic was still ahead of her suspicions.

“Do you think it could be him, though?” She asked, leaning
off the wall and standing up straight. Her eyes didn’t meet Will’s – they
seemed to flick around and stare straight through him. Like she was looking at
notes or equations that only she could see. “There’s not a lot of footage of
the vigilante, or anything, so it may be hard to tell, but you know him. Does
that look like him, or move like him…?” She trailed off, as if unsure exactly
what to say next.

“Yes, I’ve looked at all of that.” Will lied. He absolutely
hadn’t – he didn’t think he could watch the person he knew to be his friend
turn into shadows and jump around the city without genuinely having a crisis.
His thoughts began to spiral again as his companion kept talking about the
stuff she’d noticed while going over the footage that had been captured of the
vigilante.

“He’s wearing toe shoes.” Kaylori said abruptly, shocking
Will out of his thoughts.

“W- what?” He managed.

“He’s wearing…” Kaylori repeated slowly – like she could
hardly believe it himself – “*toe shoes*.”
She placed her hands together for emphasis. “Does Aaron, like, normally do
that?”

“Wear toe shoes? No.” Will said. That, at least, was true –
Aaron had expressed an interest in them, but Plue had shouted him down on that
one. For the sake of everyone involved.

She gave no real reaction to this statement, instead turning
around and knocking on Aaron’s door. Will was about to ask her *why* when he remembered that she still
had an appointment with Aaron scheduled. Ah, yes, that was the thing. Every
three days. He shot a glance at the floor, not quite willing to lift his head
up and observe the proceedings. His one thought?

*Please don’t do anything*
stupid, Aaron*!*

He should have been so lucky.

When they opened the door, they didn’t even have to call out
for Aaron or ‘Anna – they were both in the hall, with Aaron crouched in front
of ‘Anna and telling her something in hushed tones. As Will and Kaylori stepped
through the doorway, the two looked up with panic fully visible on their faces.

Great start.

“Hello.” Will said, waving his hand a little. Aaron jumped
up and cleared his throat and ran his fingers through his hair and let his hand
rest on the back of the neck and sounded like he was suppressing a cough as he
said:

“Will! Kaylori! You’re both here!” His eyes flicked between
them. There was no teasing in his expression now. “At the same time!”

Will and Kaylori exchanged a glance.

“We met each other on the way up.” Kaylori said by way of
explanation. Not technically true, but oh well. There were more important lies
being thrown about that day.

“Ah!” Aaron’s voice sounded a little strained, but he
himself didn’t appear to register that. “Cool!”

“I just have a quick session planned.” Kaylori said,
stepping forward and into the living room. Aaron and Will both quickly followed
her in. Will checked the ceiling – still covered in paper. He wasn’t sure why
he was surprised. “Same old routine?”

Aaron nodded, face contorting slightly before returning to
one that was at least vaguely stable. He seemed a *little* more confident now. Which was… nice, Will supposed.

“Sounds like a plan.” He said.

Will nodded.

Kaylori nodded.

Aaron nodded.

The person made of fire nodded.

Will blinked. His brain was still trying to catch up with
his eyes, but there was definitely a person standing right beside Aaron who was
made of black flames, billowing and burning in some kind of state of
perpetuality, spitting charcoal-coloured rivulets of fire onto the floor and
into the air without burning anything. It had eyes – somehow – that were a
flaming red, slitted and glowering at all of them at once. It surveyed the
scene, looking like some kind of executioner or reaper.

Thankfully, the shocked stupor didn’t last too long, and
everyone began to react like actual human beings. Aaron screamed and fell
backwards onto the sofa. Will yet out a yelp and felt himself spasm from shock,
falling backwards onto the floor and staring up at the apparition because *oh God what even* was *that-*

Kaylori shrieked, hurriedly slipped one of the boots she was
wearing off of her feet, and threw it at the fire person (personally, Will
figured that antagonising it as blatantly as that could have only been a bad
idea, but he had to admire her guts). The boot passed right through the fire
person, skidding across the floor of the living room. It was charred and
smoking, and as the smell of burnt shoe hit Will he almost gagged.

“Holy-” Kaylori choked. “I mean, unholy-”

“I told you to stay upstairs!” Aaron yelled suddenly. “Come
on! You had one job!”

The fire person turned to look at him. Will wasn’t sure how
impassivity was conveyed on a face that was all fire with eyes, but the fire
person… seemed to manage it. Somehow.

Then, Will basically twigged exactly what Aaron had just
said. Kaylori seemed to realise it as well, as she looked at Will with an
expression that conveyed many, many emotions before turning back to Aaron.

“Aaron, you-” She began to say. And then stopped. And looked
down. And pointed at… Aaron’s feet.

Will didn’t get it, but he followed her gaze anyway. Clad
around Aaron’s feet were-

Were-

*Toe shoes*.

Will just had time to remember Kaylori saying something
about how the vigilante was wearing toe shoes before she bolted past him,
throwing the door to the flat open and sprinting away. He could hear her
footsteps fading – they were unparallel, with the foot that still had a boot on
it landing on the floor a lot heavier than the one that didn’t. And then,
Will’s brain caught up with him a second time (and he cursed his ever-wondering
mind for the second time that day).

Kaylori knew.

Kaylori *knew*.

And she was probably running to tell someone.

Will took off after her, running out the door without even
pausing to lecture Aaron about his choices.

### ***CHAPTER 14: THE ASSUMER AND THE SELFISH***

For once, his mind didn’t wander.

Kaylori sprinted out of the block of flats and into the
street, not appearing to be slowed down at all by the fact that she was missing
a shoe. She glanced around briefly and then – before Will, belting down the
hallway towards the door – took off running again. He himself skidded out of
the door and across the street, his legs awkwardly colliding with a bin before
he could stop himself. He cursed breathily, already feeling the strain on his
lungs. He wasn’t built for long-distance pursuit, damn it! But the sight of
Kaylori still running prompted him back into action, even as he panted and
muttered complaints to himself. His run started off as a bit of a hobble, but
after the street length he managed to shake off most of the stinging left over
from his collision. Kaylori darted right – he did the same.

His phone rang.

“Shit!” He hissed, not wanting to waste time grabbing and
answering it. He did anyway, though – allowing his body a second to rest before
putting it on speaker and breaking back into a run, holding it in his hands.

“*Will*?” He heard
Aaron ask through the phone. “*Will*?”

“I’m here.” He panted, rounding another corner. He still had
no idea where Kaylori was running, but by this point- there was a phone in her
hand. She was trying to scroll through her contacts and run at the same time,
which was slowing her down, which was nice, but Will discarded this advantage
in favour of panicking about the fact that *she*
was probably trying to call someone to let them know what she’d found*. He*
forced himself to put on a burst of speed, feeling a throb in his head as his
body found itself approaching some kind of limit.

“*Where are you?*”
Aaron said, mostly unhelpfully. Wasn’t as though he’d be able to catch up in
time, anyway. Probably.

“Can’t- talk-” He wheezed urging his legs to go faster and
to ignore the stinging of muscles. Almost catching up with Kaylori, he tried to
talk to her, but ended up letting out a wheeze. She saw him right behind her
and shrieked – and the phone flew out of her hand, skidding across the road and
knocking into the railings beside someone’s house. For a precious moment, she
stopped and eyed it, even as Will continued to run towards her. But then,
something – either determination to tell someone, or possibly fear of Will by
that point (Will had no idea what he even looked like, but it was probably at
least vaguely threatening) – hit her, and she turned on her heel and sprinted
along even further, trying to keep ahead of Will.

She rocketed across a road just as the pedestrian lights
turned red. On any other day, this would have probably stopped Will in his
tracks. But today? Today, he had other priorities. He gunned it over the
crossing. A car horn blared. Not wanting to stop, he went faster. A car came
screeching to a halt right by him, the bonnet all of a sudden blocking his
path. He neatly jumped and slid over it, sparing a wave for the probably irate
driver. A shot of pain rocketed up his leg, and the very brief glimpse he
spared downwards told him that it was bleeding. Had he cut his leg on the car?
How’d that happen?

Kaylori was still running, though she looked to be tiring as
well. He could hear her panting now, even over the sound of his own hoarse
breaths. His lungs were burning, clocking in overtime hours to keep him on his
feet. Was it enough? He had no clue. There were tears in his eyes and he had no
idea if they were there because of the wind or just because of his own physical
exertion.

Kaylori stumbled. He didn’t even do anything, just stopped
running as soon as she did. He immediately turned downwards and hunched over,
leaning on his knees, trying desperately to catch his breath. Every breath felt
desperate, like he’d been drowning and had only just come up for air. He
managed to wipe his forehead, and his hand came away covered in a thin sheen of
sweat. He wheezed again. Good grief, he was a mess.

Ahead of him, Kaylori didn’t look much better. She was panting,
also covered in sweat, and was intensely examining her boot-less foot. Through
the filthy sock, Will could have sworn that he saw blood (though it was a dark
sock, so he couldn’t tell for sure).

“*What’s even happening*?”
He heard Aaron say, and he gave a start. He’d forgotten the phone was still in
his hand. Gingerly unclenching his fingers, he saw deep red imprints in his
hand where he’d been clutching onto it as he ran.

“…I’ll call you back.” He heard himself croak, before
hanging up. Why he’d done that, he wasn’t sure. He figured that he wasn’t in
the mood to listen to Aaron right now. That seemed reasonable.

“Aren’t you supposed… to be a soldier… or something…?” He
heard her ask. Looking over, he saw that Kaylori wasn’t, funnily enough, trying
to flee any further. Instead, she was looking at him with an expression he
couldn’t quite place. Possibly disdain?

“Different… types… of fitness.” He managed, sitting down and
feeling a sting as his leg reminded him that it was bleeding. “I’m like…” He
waved his hand, still panting too hard to really talk properly. “Walking for
ages… or maybe… sprinting…”

Kaylori pulled a face at him. “Shouldn’t… this…” She
gestured vaguely with her *own* hand.
“Be… you? That’s… mixture of… both…”

“Take it up… with my body…” Will managed to say, knowing
that he’d sounded weird and not particularly caring. At the very least, Kaylori
managed to take the odd phrasing in her stride, leaning back on the street. Another
thought hit him. “You’re… criticizing my efficiency… now? Really?”

She shrugged.

“You… suck.” She croaked. Will rolled his eyes (mostly
involuntarily, as it was almost a reflex by this point).

“Sorry… for not being… efficient… enough to… catch up.” He
wheezed. “I’m sure… that must be a… real…” he paused to breathe “tragedy… for
you.”

She flipped him off, but said nothing else. Will stared at
their surroundings, beginning to humour his idle thoughts once again now that
the high-octane part of the whole affair appeared to have ceased. No-one had
walked past and seen the two of them yet (somehow), which he was grateful for.
How would one even explain this kind of situation?

More to the point – why was Kaylori not still trying to
run…?

“Bastard…” She muttered, sitting back up to glare at him,
head lolling slightly. “You owe me… a new phone…”

Will wiped his forehead again. His hair was slick, sticking
in strands to his skin. It was disgusting. “You’re the one that… threw it…”

She shook her head, but didn’t say anything. Instead, she
made a move to stagger to her feet, but upon placing her bare foot down on the
ground, she hissed.

“…The hell?” Will tried to wander over to her, but his legs
wobbled tremendously and he was forced to stand still to avoid falling flat on
his face. She grimaced and checked over her foot again, and – hoo, yeah, that was
definitely blood.

“What-”

“I think… glass shard.” She said, peering at her foot,
before inhaling deeply. “Okay…”

“Okay wha-” Will was cut off by the sight of Kaylori cleanly
sliding a large bit of glass out of her foot, glaring at it all the while as if
in catharsis. Letting it drop to the ground in a speckle of blood, she sighed,
tore her sock off, and wrapped it round her foot as a makeshift bandage.

“Damn it all…” she muttered, still taking heavy breathes due
to exertion.

“Shit.” Will said, simply, as his legs gave way and he sat
down on the pavement.

Thus began a strange silence. “Awkward” was probably the
right word, because – well, it was an entirely unprecedented situation for Will
and, he could pretty much say for sure, also for Kaylori. You’ve been chasing a
person to stop them from telling anyone else that your best friend is a
vigilante, and now you’ve both run out of energy and also both of you have
injured yourselves. Where does one go from there, he wondered?

Kaylori picked herself back up, forcing most of her weight
onto one leg to compensate for her injury.

“Alright.” She said. “See you.”

And like that, she turned around and began to hobble down
the street, obviously going as fast as she could. In his fatigue, it took Will
a moment to get back up, but once he was on his feet, he had little issue with
catching up to Kaylori.

“You… can’t be serious.” He told her, still trying to catch
his breath (although his lungs no longer felt like they were on fire). She
fixed him with an incredulous look.

“Like you’re going to… stop me.” She wheezed, making to move
further forward. He darted in front of her and stretched his arms out, forming
a human barricade in front of her.

“I am, actually.” He said, hoping he at least looked bolder
than he felt. (Because he still felt quite drained, all things considered.)

She tried to walk past him – he shuffled to the side. She
tried to move back around – he tracked her movements, trying to ensure that she
wouldn’t walk past him. With an exasperated huff, she shoved him in the chest.
He stumbled backwards, but didn’t get out of her way. She stared at him for a
moment, and then hissed and made a motion like she was punching the air.

“For goodness’ sake!” She said. Will, still panting, could
say nothing in reply, but he couldn’t help but feel for her. From her
perspective, he probably looked like the selfish one, wanting to hold back…
humanity’s progress or something, all for the sake of one guy. Keep information
in the dark, keep people in unaware, to maintain a status quo when in
actuality, advancements could probably be made. He was certainly fully aware of
her determination on the matter – a barricade as simplistic as him just
standing in front of her was probably frustrating.

“I…” He started, but trailed off, not quite sure what to
say. It was a stalemate, really. He certainly had no intention of giving up on
his friend, but it was clear that Kaylori had *every* intention of telling someone (probably Doctor Overbuild, the
Assembly Faction leader – she was his assistant, if he remembered correctly)
about Aaron.

She turned to look at him, before letting out a frustrated
sigh.

“Thought you… were on my side.” She panted.

*That’s* what
she’d-? Will’s initial incredulity was outweighed by the logical reasoning
behind such a statement. He *had* been
helping her, after all.

“I- I was, I mean…” He trailed off, trying to finally steady
his breathing. “Kay, I-”

“Don’t call me that.” She snapped, hunching her shoulders,
an aura of frustration blatantly emitting from her. He sighed, suddenly feeling
guilty.

“I said, didn’t I?” He reminded her. “I said that I’d
prioritize Aaron’s well-being over everything else.”

“So you’re just going to try and stop me from telling *anyone*?” She argued, looking up at him
in something akin to desperation. He found himself lost for words as she
continued. “Compromise exists, doesn’t it? We could try and negotiate, maybe
see if there was a way to keep it private, keep it… I don’t know!” She waved
her arms in frustration, before fixing him with a glare. “I thought you were
smarter than this.”

Will gritted his teeth at what felt like a low blow. “Sue me
for being a good friend, I guess.”

“A “good friend”?” She laughed a bit, sounding incredulous.
“Will, this is- this is blind loyalty!” She stopped laughing and went back to
staring at him angrily. “It’s not… gonna get you anywhere.”

“You sound bitter.” He observed, feeling frustration well up
within him. Why couldn’t this woman just leave them alone? Why did she have to
care so much about the bigger picture? Why did she have to not care at all
about them, try and drag them kicking and screaming into suffering for the sake
of… scientific advancement, or whatever?

“I am.” She panted, poking him in the chest with a finger.
“I am, because you’re… you’re being selfish.”

“*Selfish*?” Will
repeated angrily. Kaylori raised her hands like she was going to throttle him,
but the threat (if it was one) was unfounded, because her arms dropped to her
sides a moment later.

“*Aside* from the
fact that the research we could do into the maelstrom and how it works based on
what he has to offer be invaluable,” she proclaimed, “do you- I mean- *he’s literally running around in the streets*
using his powers*!” She gesticulated wildly. “What if he infects someone?*
What if he *kills* someone?” Working
off of her anger, she tried to shove him again, but this time he did his best
to remain firm, and aside from a small stumble, he didn’t move. His arms were
beginning to ache because of how long he’d been holding them out.

“Is that risk,” Kaylori continued, “and that potential
benefit, all worth it? All worth one person, even if he is a *friend*?”

“That *friend* would
probably never get to live a life again if word of this got out!” Will yelled.
“Even if he wasn’t kept as a specimen for the rest of his life – even if we
were able to *compromise*, like you
said – if word got out to the general populace, who even knows what would
happen? He’d probably get called a freak, people would assume it was a new type
of infection, there’d be *panic* and
he’d probably end up getting murdered by someone taking their misplaced anger
at the world out on him because he’s a convenient target!” The fears that he’d
kept ahold of for the weeks since Aaron had woken up came rushing out in an
emotional outpour, but Kaylori didn’t seem affected.

“We wouldn’t have to tell *everyone*!” She protested. “Or maybe, like, it could be presented in
a certain way! You know how much influence the Force has, they could probably
spin it into a light what wouldn’t make him look awful, and plenty of people
would buy into that!” She folded her arms, before un-folding them to pinwheel
as she almost lost her balance. Will reached out, but she recovered and slapped
his hand away with her own. “You’d just… throw away all the potential benefits
this situation could provide us as a collective for one man’s sake?”

“For all *our*
sakes!” Will argued. “You saw how he was with Plue, you know how he is with
‘Anna, how do you think that’d make *them*
feel, huh? You think they’d give praise to the greater good when he’s carted
off? You think they’d do anything – do you think *we’d* do anything – other than resent you?”

For the first time in the argument, Kaylori flinched,
letting an emotion that wasn’t anger shine through. She trembled a little – but
then seemed to collect herself, and stood back up.

“I’d accept that hatred.” She said. “If it meant benefits
for everyone else. Everyone else in the force, everyone else in the system. If
I could help that many people…” She trailed off. Her gaze never flicked away
from his. “I wouldn’t hesitate.”

The unspoken “*and you*
shouldn’t either*” washed over Will with all the force of a tidal wave. How* dare *she try to appeal to his guilt to*
try and get him to give up on Aaron? It felt like a low blow. His logic – of
course, there was a part of him that did agree with her. What they were doing
was selfish, by technicality, seeing as how what had happened to Aaron had
never happened to anyone else in, as far as Will knew, the history of anything
ever.

It was the whole statistics-versus-personal connections
thing again – he’d heard the phrase “one death is a tragedy, a million deaths are
a statistic” before, and he supposed that could be sort of applied to the
dilemma he faced now. But, of course…

“There’s no guarantee that ratting Aaron out will actually
bring about any benefits, scientific or otherwise.” He argued. “A person can
control maelstrom. Like- okay. I recognise the *potential* for research and discovery there, but there’s no
guarantee. You may find out that it’s all just some kind of genetic fluke.” He
remembered something. “Hell, he only got the powers because he touched a rock
in a cave! It may not have anything to do with him at all!”

Kaylori continued to glower, but he could see that his
argument had taken some of the wind out of her sails. She sighed, before
stepping back and hobbling over to a low wall on the side of the path. Sitting
on it, she looked up at Will, expression indeterminate. After a moment, someone
else finally appeared – a man evidently out for a jog. Will stepped to the
side, and he passed by without giving either of them a second look. The
conversation didn’t continue before he’d disappeared down a connected street,
and it didn’t continue for a while after that either. Both parties had said
their pieces, apparently. Now… was there nothing left to discuss?

Will finally remembered that he’d cut his leg while sliding
over the car, and looked down to check on it. It was a neat thin line – nothing
dire, or anything that would even require any real medical attention – but it
was deep enough to draw blood. He wiped it off with his shirt.

“So that’s it then?” Kaylori finally asked, in a voice
surprisingly flat considering they’d just been yelling at one another. “I’m presumptive,
you’re selfish?”

He looked over at her, unsure where the conversation was
supposed to go from that point. “Sounds about right.” He admitted. She hissed
an exhale, lifting up her foot to examine the wound and peeling the
blood-soaked sock away. Will winced at sight. It looked painful.

“Anything I can do?” He asked. She looked up at him in
surprise. Like she’d forgotten he was there. Which was weird, seeing as she’d
just addressed him. Perhaps, he mused, the surprise was more to do with the
fact that he’d offered to help. Which- well, it probably seemed abrupt, all
things considered.

After a moment’s hesitation, she shrugged. “Think I’ll be
fine.” She said. Will nodded hesitantly.

Thus followed more silence. Will took the opportunity to
take in the sights around him. Perhaps he could channel his inner poet, and
find some kind of fulfilment and satisfaction in the beauty of nature – or what
nature could be found on a city street. The trees… looked nice.

No, it wasn’t working.

Kaylori, he suddenly noticed, had gingerly stood up again,
having re-wrapped her foot with the sock. He tensed up, prepared to give chase
if she tried to run again, but she instead stood up to look at him.

“Let’s compromise.” She said.

Will, still worried, dipped his head to indicate that she
should continue.

“Let’s tell Overbuild.” She suggested. Dimly, Will
recognised his earlier suspicion – that she had wanted to tell Overbuild, her
direct superior – was all but confirmed. Nice. But she was still talking.
“We’ll tell him – and only him. He’s got all the authority anyway, and, like,
the man’s a genius. We can talk to Aaron, bring him in while making sure that
he isn’t signing his life away. Just run some basic tests and look for the
potential if it’s there. Because you’re right.” She threw up her arms in
defeat. “It may not be worth the trouble at all. But it’s worth at least
checking.”

Will, for his part, was… honestly, he was tempted. It was a
better compromise than he would have come up with, most likely. And he could
appreciate Kaylori’s attempt at reconciliation, and the fact that she was
offering a compromise at *all*, instead
of just fighting her way towards telling everyone anyway.

“Well…” He said. “I mean, that does sound pretty good…” A
thought hit him. “But, uh, what if it turns out that that potential for
discovery *is* there, in Aaron? What do
we do then?”

Rather than backtrack on her idea, Kaylori made a
noncommittal noise.

“I guess we can burn that bridge if we get to it.” She said,
before holding out her hand – seemingly anticipatory of a handshake. “Have we
got a deal… William?” A smile ghosted across her lips.

Unappreciation of the reverse-nicknaming (fullnaming?)
notwithstanding, Will found himself surprisingly satisfied. Maybe he was just
tired of conflict.

His hand collided with hers, and they shook once.

“We do,” he said, “*Kay*.”

### ***CHAPTER 15: COMIC INTERLUDE (A NEW PLAN SET IN MOTION)***

Aaron stared blankly at the texts he’d finally received from
Will – after several good minutes of panicked waiting. He had, of course, gone
after them himself after a moment’s pause, but by the time he’d gotten out into
the street, he hadn’t been able to see them, and then he’d remembered that he’d
left ‘Anna lone with Shadow and Rose, and he trusted them but he didn’t *trust* them, so all he’d been able to do
was run back upstairs, check on ‘Anna again, and then wait around and hope
against hope that Will had been able to come up with something to stop Kaylori
from revealing everything to everyone (or, really, anyone).

Eventually, after all of that, Will had messaged him:

*Worked out a compromise. Fill you in on the details later, but no-one from the Force is gonna bust your door in.*

A compromise?? A compromise, really? That was surprising. He
remembered how persistent Kaylori had been – he personally had no idea how he
would have compromised with someone like that. Still anxious, he shot a quick
message back:

*whats the compromise tho*

Will didn’t reply within three seconds, so Aaron shoved his
phone back into his pocket and resigned himself to never getting a text from
him every again.

‘Anna scampered up to him. “Safe?” She asked.

“Yeah.” He nodded, leaving out the melodramatic “for now,
anyway” that had been on the tip of his tongue. ‘Anna, for her part, celebrated
by letting out a whoop and falling backwards onto the sofa besides Aaron, who
high-fived her for good measure.

“Okay, now that that’s sort of sorted…” he turned to Shadow,
who seemed to have… not moved from his position in the living room. Aaron
wasn’t sure whether to be annoyed or terrified, but he settled for annoyed,
because of Shadow was going to stay with him, there were some things he was
going to have to understand. “You!” Aaron waggled his finger. “Shadow, what is
the one thing I told you not to do? *Come*
downstairs*. And what did you do?* You
came downstairs*.” He facepalmed for effect. “Was it really that hard? Could*
you not have just…” he waved a hand, lost for words for a little bit. “…done
what you’re doing now, only upstairs?”

Shadow turned to face him. And then:

“No rooms.”

It was like the words were pinballs and the inside of his ears and
skull were the machine. He almost winced at the pressure – and yes, it didn’t
make any sense that it felt like an actual physical pressure. And hey, so that *had* been Shadow that had been talking!
What he was saying, though – that was what Aaron didn’t quite get yet.

“No rooms?” He repeated, looking to their flat’s upstairs area –
where the inhabitants slept. There were rooms upstairs, two of them. One for
him and Plue, one for ‘Anna. He couldn’t understand was Shadow was getting at,
and fixed him with a look. The intimidation factor on Shadow was gradually
decreasing, he had to admit – he probably wouldn’t have *glared* at Shadow straight after meeting him, and yet here he was,
the next day, eying him down. Though maybe that was just the fatigue destroying
his sense of fear, which was… technically a possibility. He decided not to dwell
on it.

“Shadow, there are two rooms upstairs. You could easily have
stayed in one of them.”

“Yours.”The voice of Shadow was still painful
for his head to register, but he liked to think that he was building up some
kind of tolerance – it hadn’t hurt quite as much this time around. (Though,
again, maybe that was just the tiredness. Again, he decided not to dwell on
it.)

“Still got no idea what you’re…” he began, and then- and then he
paused as an actual idea actually came to him. Did Shadow mean that… he hadn’t
hidden in the rooms because they had belonged to someone else? Is that what he
meant? He was almost afraid to say it, just because it sounded super surreal
and super ridiculous and there was every chance that Shadow would just murder
him if he was wrong (because he had yet to give off any vibes other than
concentrated murder vibes, and Aaron still had so much to live for).

“You mean that you didn’t want to go in those rooms, because they
were our rooms?” He ventured anyway, because if there was one thing he knew
about himself and still did nothing to attempt to improve on, it was the fact
that there were moments where the filter between the brain and his mouth gave
up on everything. Shadow fixed his gaze back onto him, and Aaron felt a fresh
wave of *this is it I’m actually going to*
die tell Plue I love her *wash over him for a moment before pulling himself*
together. Shadow hadn’t killed him yet. He wouldn’t now, right?

“That’s it, isn’t it?” He said. “You… wow…”

Shadow made a teensy-weensy nodding motion. Aaron wasn’t sure
whether he wanted to laugh or thank any deity that came to mind.

“Well, I mean, it’s nice that you respect people’s boundaries.” He
said, not quite sure what else to say. “Um… okay…”

Sighing, he sat back down on the sofa. The metaphorical wind was
out of his metaphorical sails, and now he wasn’t quite sure what to do with
himself. He wanted to do *something*,
obviously, but what exactly he should do, he had no idea.

‘Anna tugged at his shirtsleeve. He turned to look at her, dimly.

“I still need to go to school.” She told him.

…

*OH-*

Thus ensued a frantic rush to make himself presentable, punctuated
by ‘Anna’s apologies of how she “should have told [him] earlier” but she
“didn’t want to go” anyway, and she could see that he’d been tired. Throw off
the toe shoes (he still loved them but he was pretty sure they’d given him away
so it was probably best to not wear them for a while), throw off most of his
clothes in general (seeing as how he was basically still wearing the Maelstrom
outfit) and then throw on some NEW clothes (and he ended up wearing one of
Plue’s jackets and it was a bit small but OH WELL NO TIME FOR THAT NOW) and
then he was almost out of the door when he remembered his guests.

“What can we do with Shadow and Rose?” He asked ‘Anna, not having
anyone else to ask. Also, he trusted her judgement, all things considered.

She shrugged. “Take them with us?”

He was probably going to have to reassess the whole “trust her
judgement” thing, but all things considered, considering the time crunch they
were suddenly in… it was the best option they had.

Another five minutes and a hasty explanation later, Aaron and
‘Anna were running along the street towards her school, Rose a little way
behind them. (To avoid suspicion, Rose had discarded her old red hoodie for a
new one that was at least cleaner and less tattered – though there hadn’t been
time for anything else either). Though he couldn’t see him, Aaron knew that
Shadow was somewhere behind them, transported himself between secluded spots the
same way he’d apparently been able to teleport himself downstairs from upstairs
(because NO-WAY no-one wouldn’t have noticed him going down the stairs earlier
anyway).

The school building was an old one, made mostly of fading red
bricks and a navy-blue sign on the wall surrounding it that let people know
they were actually entering a school, and not any other building that could
have been made of old red bricks. Honestly? Aaron didn’t know any other
specific buildings that could have been made of old red bricks, but there were
probably *some*.

But there was no time to ponder that.

Darting up, past the gate and into the reception, Aaron dragged
‘Anna towards the desk while Rose followed from a sensible distance. Craning
his neck to look over his shoulder, Aaron couldn’t see Shadow anywhere. That
was probably a good thing.

The receptionist looked up from whatever he’d been writing at the
sight of Aaron and ‘Anna.

“Mr Wilder?” He asked. He’d met Aaron before.

“Hello, hi.” Aaron said, waving slightly. ‘Anna poked her head
over the edge of the desk so that she could have too, and it was adorable, but
there was no time to focus on that. “Um- Sorry ‘Anna’s only in now, we got held
up. It was a…” Aaron paused as he realised both that what had actually happened
wouldn’t be easily explainable and also wasn’t something he should tell anyone
else, probably, and that he had to improvise. “…family emergency.”

“Oh?” The receptionist’s eyebrow raised, even as he typed
something down.

“Yeah, uh, I found and reconnected with my long-lost siblings.” Lied
Aaron. The receptionist’s eyebrow raised higher. “Ah yes, they’re a motley
bunch…” Aaron realised that that kind of story didn’t really qualify as an
emergency. Well, when in doubt, improvise harder. “And also my brother is now
in a critical condition, because he, uh, had an accident. With a sword.”

The eyebrow raised higher still.

“And… and a skateboard. You know, in hindsight, there was really
only one way that was gonna go. Heh-heh!” Aaron forced a laugh, before ruffling
‘Anna’s hair and turning to her. “You know where to go.”

She nodded. “Yeah!”

He kissed her forehead.

“Go on, get to class. I love you.” He waved as she ran off, made
finger-guns at the receptionist (whose eyebrow remained raised, which could
have meant many things), turned around, almost ran straight into Rose (who was
waiting behind them), grabbed her wrist, and bolted back out through the doors
and through the gate and into the street. And then into the nearest alleyway
for good measure. Shadow was already there – he fixed them with another one of
his stares as they pulled up in front of him.

“Sorry dude.” Aaron said. “Traffic was murder. Excuses were
worse.”

“What… does that even mean?” Rose asked him as she stopped to lean
on the wall of the alley and catch her breath.

Aaron waved her off.

“The real question is,” he said, “with Will coming to a
“compromise”” he made quotation marks with his fingers, because he was bothered
at not knowing any of the details of this so-called compromise, “and Plue doing
what she can to officially investigate Overbuild – what can we do in the
meantime?”

“W-we?” Rose asked, like that was a surprise. Well, presumably, it
was. But why would it even be a surprise to her?

“You came to me for help, right?” Aaron asked. “You didn’t come
for me to help just to have me belay that to other people. I want to do
something about this whole business myself, and I- well, I’m probably gonna
need your help with it.”

Rose blanched a little, but didn’t immediately protest, which…
actually wasn’t as surprising as Aaron figured it would have been. Then again,
he had seen Rose’s strength. He knew it existed.

“Alright, Rose.” He said, before remembering- “And Shadow.” Shadow
kept looking at him (he always did! Couldn’t he stop staring? That was
creepy!), but still said nothing, which he was sort of grateful for. That
telepathic communication stuff he’d been doing had been cool, yeah, but it had
also hurt his brain, assuming that was-
no, wait, that *had* to be
physically possible. So, yeah. Ow. “I think,” he said, “if we’re basically
unsupervised, and if I’m a vigilante anyway, what we should do is find the
place where you were and bust in!”

*Now* Rose had
the bad reaction she was entitled to.

“A-are you- wait! No!” She seemed to jump backwards, trying to
press herself against the wall of the alleyway as if to physically escape the
suggestion that Aaron had made. He felt bad. “We- I- back?”

…He’d come on too strong. Whoops.

“Okay, sorry. I, uh, I came on too strong.” He said. “But Rose –
is it okay if you hear me out?”

After looking around everywhere and at everything except for
anywhere remotely near his face, Rose nodded once. Aaron reckoned that only
gave him so much leeway, so he did his best to be comforting. Get in “parent
mode”. He flashed back to the times he’d had to comfort ‘Anna when she was
upset about something (which, hey, that was common for a child, because a lot
of stuff that had happened to them were the most significant things that had
ever happened to them because they didn’t have enough life experience to
contextualize events and *WHY WAS HE GOING*
THROUGH ALL THAT IN HIS HEAD NOW STUPID DISTCRATED THOUGHTS*-)*

“So, I’m prefacing this with the fact that you absolutely don’t
have to go in – or even get involved in finding the place at all – if you don’t
want to.” He said, making his voice soft. “My train of thought was that we’d be
able to find and collect evidence of all the bad things that are happening in
there if we were… actually in there, I guess. Like, we’d be able to take
pictures and stuff?” He scratched his head in ponderance. “Maybe we could find
some documents or something. How official is that place?”

He tried his best to avoid all of his nagging doubts, and a dull
insistence in the back of his mind to just not go, try and do anything else apart from actually going
directly there, there had to be something else productive, literally anything
other then *actually going there*. It took a
bit of spare willpower, but he managed to block out his own pessimism and focus
on the situation at hand. Which was nice.

“O-official?” Rose no longer looked like Aaron or his words were
about to eat her alive, but she still looked weary. Aaron chose to take it a
positive sign.

“Like, is everything super sterile and official?” He asked. “Or is
it… I dunno, kind of rank and run-down?” Only *after* he’d asked that did he realise that it was kind of a stupid
question – if Overbuild really was involved, as Rose had described, he’d
probably have the funds or influence to make it an official sort of place.
(Unless he wanted to keep low-key… which he had done… hmm…)

He suddenly realised that Rose had said something, and was looking
to him for his reaction.

“Uh, ah, um- could you please repeat that?” He asked, feeling just
a bit like a tool as he did so. Thankfully, Rose didn’t look super annoyed,
just nodding. There was a bit more intensity to her face – a bit more anger,
and a bit less fear. He wasn’t sure whether to see that as a good thing.

“It’s very official.” She revealed. “I’ve been in a hospital
before, and it was… a bit like that?”

Aaron nodded. “Right. Right. Okay, cool. Sounds… yeah.” He
clenched one hand into a fist and began to hit it against the palm of his *other* hand as he continued to think. “So
they may well have official records or something.” He allowed himself a smile.
“if we pilfer those, that’d probably be a great bit of evidence that can get
Overbuild at least looked into, if not just. Arrested, or something.”

Rose nodded, but didn’t say anything. It almost made him miss Will
or Plue – though Will was generally a bit more critical, both of them were good
to bounce ideas off of. But he wasn’t going to begrudge Rose for that,
considering the fact that this was obviously a stressful situation for her and
also he didn’t want to force her into a back-and-forth. (That wouldn’t be…
well, it wouldn’t be *nice*, really.)

Alright, as it stood: Goal: infiltrate the power-giving facility.
Find proof that said facility is doing immoral things such as…

“Wait, so they… they took you in against your will, right?” He
asked, for clarification. A moment’s hesitation – then Rose answered.

“Yeah.” She confirmed.

“Right.” Aaron rubbed the back of his neck. “Uh… Rose, not that
this isn’t important, and I mean, I do appreciate that you came to me – well,
you came to Maelstrom – for help, but, uh… didn’t you have anyone on the
outside you wanted to see first? Or did you see them already?”

Rose didn’t answer. She looked down again. Aaron almost pressed
the issue further, but then had the idea that hey, maybe the subject of family
was a touchy one for some people, like it was for him (a humble orphan). At
that moment, he resolved to be there if she needed, but to not keep asking
about it in any sort of incessant way.

“Okay, well, never mind all that, that’s fine.” He said, trying to
backpedal. Was it effective or not? He had no clue. But it was the best he
could do, and hey, it could have been worse. He hadn’t *completely* put his foot in his mouth.

“Rose.” Aaron said. She looked up again. He realised, dimly, that
she’d been pulling at a string in the wrist of the hoodie the whole time,
creating a new fissure (because it was actually a different hoodie now), and it
was now hanging off her arm and down to her thigs like some kind of… well, he
wasn’t sure. Leash? Like there was supposed to be a dog on the other end, or
something. Either she was big on stimming, or she was just really stressed at
that moment in time. Hell, maybe it was both.

“I’m going to break in.” He said, not mentioning how he’d have to
first go back to his flat and get back into the Maelstrom outfit. For the sake
of his identity, and totally not because he wanted to feel as cool as possible
when he did it. “I’m not going to force you to come with – but if you could at
least tell me just where this facility is supposed to be, I… well, I’d really
appreciate it.”

“You- I- you won’t have to force me.” Rose eventually said. “I’ll
do it. I’ll go with you.”

“You will?” Aaron echoed, surprised. “Are- are you sure you’re…
okay?” No, wait, that was a stupid question. “I mean, not okay, but-”

“Aaron.” A pause. “Maelstrom.”

That surprised him – he figured that was probably the first time
Rose had said his name, now that he thought about it. She pushed herself off of
the alley wall and began to actually pace around it, still picking at the
hoodie’s wrist.

“I- I… think this is something I have to do.” She said. “I want to
help you. I… came to you because I thought if- if anyone could help me, it was
someone who was *like* me… who… but you
still need my help. And I- I do *want*
to help.” She stopped walking, and her fists clenched. “Also, I… I owe someone.
And they… they’re still in there.”

“Oh.” Said Aaron. Well… that was fair, at any rate.

“That’s fair, at any rate.” He said. Rose glanced slightly
fitfully at him, but didn’t say anything else. He figured that that was the
best assent he was going to get (and hey, it was honestly pretty good anyway,
so it wasn’t like he was *complaining*),
and so turned to Shadow.

“What do you think?” He asked. “You in?”

Shadow nodded, and beyond the excitement that came with Shadow
actually doing anything physically instead of just staring directly into his
soul and wigging him out, Aaron felt an excitement that had more to do with,
like, a clear goal and a team ready to work with him. (And there was fear of
course, but there was always fear, and he resolved to ignore it (that was what
it normally did anyway (and it tended to work (most of the time, anyway (but no
time to worry about that)))).)

“Okay, then.” He said. “T…team? Uh, fam?”

Rose fixed him with a look he was very familiar with – the
“general disappointment”.

“Right, okay, scrap that.” He said. “Let’s just, uh- let’s do
this. As soon as we stop back at the flat. I need to change my clothes.”

### ***CHAPTER 17: THE GOOD DOCTOR***

Kaylori and he both, Will figured as they finally arrived at Nexus
Tower, probably looked like a pair of complete wrecks. Certainly, by the stares
they garnered from passers-by, they certainly didn’t look great. Will was *still* sweating, which he really figured
wouldn’t have been something he’d have still had to deal with, and there was
pretty much a coat of dried blood on his lower leg by that point (it’d stopped
bleeding, which was at least something, but… still. It didn’t look great). As
for Kaylori, her hair had fallen out of the bun she’d had it in earlier and had
cascaded down her back, except for the bit that had stuck to her neck with
sweat. In addition to that, there was the fact that she was still missing a
boot, and her sock (still wrapped around her foot) was *also* soaked with blood. If Aaron or ‘Anna were here, they’d say
something about how the two of them looked like they’d been attacked by the
leg-mauler of Nimbus Station, or something like that. He loved them, but he was
mostly glad that they weren’t here, in this particular instance. He was
stressed out enough as it was.

Overbuild’s office was fairly high up in Nexus Tower, as per the
offices of anyone actually important, meaning that he and Kaylori had several
minutes bare minimum to kill stuck in a lift with one another while they waited
to actually have their meeting. Not that having a few minutes to kill in a lift
was normally a bad thing – boring, yes, but not bad – but the truce that he and
Kaylori had wasn’t easy, and considering they’d basically just shouted their
opinions at one another until she’d had an idea for a compromise, it was
probably going to be an extremely awkward trip. And also, he didn’t have any
music to listen to.

Ah, well. Such was strife.

The wait by the lift was, in and of itself, pretty uncomfortable.
After standing still for a few seconds, Kaylori had stumbled a bit and been
forced to shuffle her standing position because of her foot. Will, who was
bitter but not *that* bitter, held out
his arm, and she – after a moment of obvious and understandable hesitation –
had accepted his offer, and leant on it. No words had been spoken, and no
acknowledgement of anything had been made. Dimly, Will noted that her arm felt
quite muscular through her jacket. That only worried him more, because it was
demonstrative of how easily she could break something if she punched him in the
face for whatever reason. Not that he had any plans to drive her to punch him
in the face, because he wasn’t an idiot, but he still… that is to say, he… ugh.
Nerves.

The lift opened its doors with a metallic *ding*, and the pair hobbled inside. Thankfully, it was empty except
for the two of them, and Kaylori made to lean on one of the railings embedded
inside. Will walked to the buttons, and then hesitated.

“Which floor is Overbuild’s office on?” He asked. Kaylori sighed,
but made to hobble over. Will held out a hand.

“You don’t have to-” Too late. She had made her way to the
buttons, and pushed it (it had been floor number 203). The doors closed, and
the lift gave a fun little jolt as it began to move that had Will scrabbling
for a railing of his own to hold onto to make sure that he didn’t end up
falling backwards onto the floor.

Kaylori laughed.

“Glad to see that someone’s enjoying themselves.” He remarked, a
little embittered and with a bruised pride. She rolled her eyes at him, then
laughed again.

“Has anyone told you,” she asked between sniggers, “how ridiculous
you look when you look annoyed?”

Thus was his pride bruised further.

“Hey!” He snapped, deciding out of some courtesy to not bring up
the fact that his annoyed face was the one that could get the untameable
elements that were Aaron Wilder and ‘Anna Wilder (and, to a lesser extent, Plue
Abernathy), to… well, “back down” would have to be too strong a word, all
things considered, but most of the time they tended to not think about things
at all. He at least made them *think*.
(Whether or not they chose to go along with it or not anyway was… another
matter.)

Her laughter trailed off, and he huffed as he straightened out his
coat, which had crinkled up during all of the running and powerwalking and
almost-falling he had done.

“For the record,” he said, stubbornly, “no. No-one’s told me I
look ridiculous when I annoyed.”

Kaylori shrugged, but didn’t say anything else. Thus endeth the
conversation? Several long seconds passed, punctuated only by the hum of the
lift as it continued to whirr upwards.

Thus endeth the conversation.

Will missed his headphones – the tinny music coming from somewhere
in the lift was adequate, he supposed, at filling the air and producing sound
in a place that would have been otherwise almost deathly silent. But it was
very basic, being a light sort of piano-ish beat. Nothing he could really sink
into and lucid daydream to. Why, he wondered, was he critiquing elevator music
now, of all times? Perhaps it was to distract himself from the situation, which
– even with a compromise reached – was rather intense. Perhaps it was because
he wore headphones a lot of the time, and had rarely heard elevator music
before, if ever? There had been times, he remembered, when Plue had played
elevator music on her player while they had been in otherwise silent elevators
as a joke. But he was fully aware that that wasn’t quite the same thing.

“So.” Kaylori interrupted his thoughts. He looked back at her.
What floor were they even on? A quick glance – floor fifty. Damn.

“So… what?” He prompted, when she didn’t immediately reply. She
turned to him.

“How are we going to present all of this to Overbuild?” She asked.
Will raised an eyebrow with her.

“He’s your boss, right?” Will asked, surprised that she was asking
him instead of just preparing to handle the whole situation herself. That was
what he had expected, in all honesty. “Shouldn’t you be the one to explain
everything to him, or something like that?”

“Ideally, yeah.” Kaylori said, fixing him with a disdainful look.
“But he’s your friend. I wouldn’t want to take all of the words out of your
mouth.”

Ah, right. The disdain in her expression equated to “*I’m trying to do you a favour*”, then.
Well, the favour was appreciated, even if the attitude was not.

“Well,” said Will, “I think we should take it at least fairly
cautiously.” He eyed her. “This is a big thing, right, something you’ve never
seen before?”

She nodded in confirmation. “Exactly.”

“Well,” continued Will, “then we should probably be slow. Lead
into it a little bit, you know?”

Kaylori pursed her lips in a “not bad” expression.

“Okay.” She eventually drawled. “Any other ideas?”

“Off the top of my head? No.” Admitted Will. “I find that these
things tend to go decently with a bit of improv, anyway. But maybe that’s just
me?”

“No, I’m fine.” Kaylori said. “I just thought… well, I figured you
might have wanted a say.”

Will breathed heavily through his nose (a very low-tier laugh).
“Now I suddenly feel like we’re about to get involved in a court case or
something.”

“Would that make you the defendant?” She asked him. The words were
mocking – or, at least, playing along with what he’d just said – but she
honestly sounded more curious than anything else.

“Eh, representing, I think, would be more appropriate.” He
admitted. “Aaron would be the defendant.”

“Yeah, that’s fair.” She admitted, leaning back on the wall of the
elevator and folding her arms. He smirked.

“Does that make you the prosecution?”

To her surprise, she didn’t really react – she blinked, suddenly
looking almost lethargic, before stretching her neck first to the left, and
then the right. Will imagined that he could hear the cracks through the
elevator music, but he couldn’t say for sure.

“I don’t know if I *want*
to be *prosecution*, perse.” She
admitted. Will raised an eyebrow at that – she’d
certainly been very keen to announce Aaron’s identity to whoever just earlier –
but held his tongue, considering they seemed to be having a proper conversation
now and he didn’t want to ruin it. If nothing else, it was probably best
for them to be on civil terms before they went in to see Doctor Overbuild.

“I mean-” To his further surprise, she seemed to register that
she’d actually been in the prosecuting position a little while ago. “I-” She tried
again, but was cut off, as the lift came to a halt. Was it their floor? Will
checked the stops. No, they still had about thirty or so to go. But the doors
opened and suddenly a large group of people flooded into the lift, forcing both
of them to stand up and get squashed into the respective corners that they’d
huddled themselves into. All of a sudden, he couldn’t even *see* her anymore through the mass of bodies. Conversation was
impossible. And he wasn’t sure if he was pleased about that or not.

All of a sudden, the lift arrived at floor two-hundred and three –
their stop. The doors opened, and Will slid through the crowd like an eel,
popping out on the other side and smoothing out his jacket again. Kaylori’s
alternating footsteps alerted him to the fact that she was right behind him.

The hallway was so wide it almost felt like a proper hall – there
were several different corridors leading to different places stretching out
like a neural pathway, or maybe like arteries connected to a heart. In the
middle of a room was a small fountain, with carving shaped like Nexus Tower
right in the middle, spitting water both into the air and around the sides,
where it arced for a little bit before crashing down into the pool at the
bottom. No matter what people may have said about Nexus Tower, Will had to
admit, the interior decorating had been done by someone who possessed a certain
level of style about them.

Most of the walls, floors and ceilings were a pale white. Not
painfully pale on his eyes, thankfully, but it did have the unfortunate
side-effect of making everything look a bit like the inside of some kind of
cell. This was, for the most part, countered by the aesthetic touches –
numerous posters and banners supporting the factions, the occasional sculpture
and picture, the fountain – but it was there if you looked closely enough. Like
the undertones in a double-meaning conversation.

“Which way?” He asked, even as Kaylori tugged on his sleeve.
Keeping his arm out so she could lean on it again (and was it his imagination,
or was that hobble getting more pronounced? It did make sense. Perhaps, after
their meeting, she would have to have her foot examined. It *had* been impaled by a thing of glass,
after all. Not that it was generally *super*
*dangerous, but that wasn’t necessarily something that could just be walked*
off, either). She led him to a doorway that had beside it an Assembly-orange
banner, which he figured was pretty appropriate. From there, it was down *another* hallway and then around a
corner, and then – oh, wow.

As it turned out, Overbuild’s office had been set up right beside
the Imagination Nexus. Though surrounded by a protective case of what looked
like glass, but was almost certainly something stronger, Will could see the
energy in all its glory. A thick cylinder, a bit like a tree trunk made of
solid cyan energy, rippled as it flowed upwards – a waterfall in reverse.
Wrapped round it like a tendril or root was a coil of energy so bright blue it
was almost white, shining and humming and looking like a loose spring. He
wondered if it was metaphorical in some way – that it looked like a spring,
that had a lot of potential energy, when it itself had potential energy within
it. It was definitely something to ponder in future, he decided. Because why
not?

Near the Nexus was a small platform suspended on the top of a ramp
that led straight from it to the floor. At the top was Overbuild.

“I thought I’d find him here.” Kaylori said, and he could hear the
grin in her voice. He turned to her, not quite getting it – she caught his eye.

“Well,” she said, elaborating, “sometimes he likes to come up here
and just… watch the Nexus. I know, it’s kind of weird, but hey. He’s a genius.
Sometimes you just humour people like that, you know? Though I…” She trailed
off, and stared at the Nexus again. “Sometimes, I’ll see it and I think I might
get why he can just stare for as long as he does without actually doing
anything.”

“Yeah.” Said Will, absent-mindedly. “I think I get it.”

He heard her make a noise of surprise – had she expected him to
not understand? Maybe it was typically an Assembly faction thing, or something
– but she didn’t say anything else as they approached the ramp and began to
walk up it. The sound of their footsteps must have alerted the Doctor to their
arrival, because he turned around to eye them as they drew closer. His
ever-present goggles were over his eyes, prompting Will to wonder if they
doubled as glasses or something, but the rest of his face was visible, and it
broke out into a smile at the sight of them. Well, probably at the sight of
Kaylori, specifically.

“Kaylori!” He said. His voice sounded surprisingly warm, and Will
could have sworn that it had been more robotic when he had come in to visit
Aaron. Maybe he had a “working” persona and a “people I like” persona – Will
had seen that before. “I wasn’t expecting to see-” His face fell and he stopped
talking, presumably catching sight of how the two of them looked. “Oh, my
goodness. What happened?”

“Bit of a long story, sir.” Said Kaylori, reaching the top of the
ramp and standing surprisingly straight – probably paying due respect to her
superior. “But we can worry about that later. We need… well, we need to talk,
sir.”

“Talk away.” Overbuild permissed them. “I’m only sorry there
aren’t any seats up here – you look as though you need to rest your foot.”

“Yes.” Kaylori said, before giving a start and shaking her head.
“I mean- no. I mean…” She dragged her hand down her face. “It’s been an
eventful morning.”

Overbuild goggles were still covering his eyes.

“So I see.” He eventually said. It was at this point that Will
thought it appropriate to say his piece.

“Sir.” He ventured. “We- that is to say, me and Kaylori, we-”

“Aaron Wilder’s condition has developed to the point where he is
able to create and manipulate maelstrom at will, and he’s using his abilities
for vigilantism.” Kaylori interrupted. He shot her a *look* – what had happened to easing into it? – but he couldn’t deny
her succinctness.

“Oh my.” Was all Overbuild said straight away. He made a motion with
his hand like he was stroking a goatee – only, of course, there was no goatee,
it was just the area below his chin. It looked a bit weird, but when Will
considered the fact that the Doctor was known as an eccentric, he reckoned that
it was just about part for the course.

“You’re sure about this?” He asked.

“Yes sir.” Will said, before turning to Kaylori and making a
motion that he hoped implied *tell him the*
plan*. Or something like that, anyway. They’d made a compromise, and he’d*
upheld part of his end (and he doubted that getting Aaron to come with them
would be an easy feat anyway, so from a certain perspective, he’d done all he
could for at least that day. Refreshingly enough, Kaylori did seem to twig what
he was implying, because she spoke up again.

“Sir, I should inform you that this information was given to you
in confidence, and that it has been brought to my attention that as much as
Aaron Wilder may represent in terms of scientific advancement, it would be
unethical to see him as nothing but.”

“Oh.” The Doctor said again. His voice sounded a little different
in tone this time around. “That’s not like you at all, Kaylori – you’re
normally far more utilitarian in your outlook.”

“Utilitarian?” Will echoed, confused. The Doctor waved his hand
idly.

“In essence, the greatest good for the greatest number.” He
explained.

“Well, sir,” Kaylori continued, “there was, ah- there was a lot of
discussion involved.”

“Is that right?” Overbuild’s head moved minutely between Will and
Kaylori. Not for the first time that conversation, Will wished he could know
just what was happening inside the Doctor’s brain. Was he more supportive of
Kaylori’s perspective, that the greater good was all that mattered? Or was he
willing to accept Aaron’s rights and account for them moving forward? The
uncertainty was slightly nerve-wracking.

Eventually, Overbuild shrugged.

“Well, I suppose that’s fair.” He said. “So, when can we get Aaron
in to discuss this further? I notice he’s… not around.”

“I don’t know, sir.” Will admitted. “I want to talk to him about
this, but I honestly don’t know how willing he’d be to actually listen to me.
It might take a couple of days to convince him.”

“Understandable.” Said Overbuild. “Well, I’ll be waiting for when
he decides to join us.” With that said, he turned his back on both of them, and
began to stare at the Nexus again. Kaylori and Will exchanged another glance,
but Kaylori eventually shrugged. It seemed like that was something he did a
lot.

“Kaylori.” Overbuild’s voice cut through Will’s musings. “Wait at
the bottom of the ramp.”

“Sir?” Kaylori’s voice was a little higher from confusion.

“I would like to speak to your companion alone for a moment.” He
said.

“I… well… right, sir.” Without sparing Will any more glances,
Kaylori turned on her heel and began to hobble back down the ramp. Will was
tempted to follow and make sure she got down safely, but then he remembered
that he was remaining behind for a reason, and focused back onto the Faction
Leader.

“Sir.” He said.

“Young man.” Overbuild responded. “William… what is your last
name?”

“Adalwin.” Will offered. “It’s Will Adalwin.”

“I see.” Overbuild nodded once. He didn’t turn to face Will.
“Mister Adalwin – I hope you realise how delicate this situation is.”

Will wasn’t sure how to react. Indignantly? Of *course* he’d realised that, he’d been
worrying about that the entire time.

“I… yes?” He eventually ventured. After a moment’s silence,
Overbuild kept talking, giving Will no indication as to whether he’d said the
right thing or not.

“We’ve seen anomalous individuals like this before.” He admitted.
“But never in this way.”

“Never with the maelstrom?” Will guessed. The Doctor didn’t say.

“Your friend has become invaluable.” He said, sounding
ever-so-slightly-sinister as he did. “My best guess is that a lot of people
would be very keen to get their hands on him. For a multitude of reasons.” He
turned back to face Will. “You’d do best to keep this matter to yourself.”

“That was the plan, sir.” Once again, Will felt a twinge of
annoyance, but forced it down. Decorum still mattered.

Overbuild nodded, turning away again.

“Best ensure you stick to it.” He said.

And that was that on that, apparently. Will turned away himself,
and began to walk back down the ramp. Away- and, hopefully, back home. He’d had
enough excitement for one day.

### ***CHAPTER 18: STOP FOR A MINUTE***

“So, what did he want?”

Unfortunately, excitement (although in this instance, “excitement”
was probably too strong a word) seemed to follow Will everywhere. Kaylori was
looking at him, openly curious, as if trying to discern exactly why Overbuild
had wanted to talk to *him*. Will’s
response was to fix her with a tired scare before beginning to walk out of the
room, trying to ignore the incessant glow of the Nexus.

“Is that any of your beeswax?” He asked as she trotted after him.
Judging by the way she huffed incredulously, this was the right thing to say to
get under her skin.

“As his assistant? As someone invested in the current situation?
Yes, I’d say it’s very much my beeswax!” She folded her arms.

“Well, nothing much happened.” Will said, too tired to really
argue about it. “He mostly just told me to keep it to myself, and be careful.
Yadda yadda whatever.”

Kaylori’s brow raised inquisitively. “That seems… redundant.” She
observed. Will flung his arms up into the air.

“Ya think?”

Kaylori backed up. “Fine.” She said. “Whatever. I just think…” and
then proceeded to lapse into mumbled speech that Will found himself thankfully
easy to tune out. He felt kind of bad, but the truth was that fatigue was the
name of the game, and he was absolutely winning. It had been a very stressful-
and *hey*, what was Overbuild even
doing?

Will’s attention was piqued by Overbuild – was he *running*? – away from the Nexus and to
somewhere else. It looked like he was going somewhere in a hurry, for sure.

“Where’s he heading in such a hurry?” He asked out loud. Kaylori
stopped talking and followed his gaze. He saw her face contort in obvious
confusion. What, was it odd that the Doctor was running somewhere? Actually…
was it odd?

“Does he not normally run, then?” He asked. Kaylori looked at him
with the same confused expression, and he jogged on the spot for a moment. “You
know, get the quads working and get some exercise?”

“He’s sixty-seven years old.” Kaylori deadpanned.

Ah. Well, that made sense. But then-?

“It is weird, though, you’re right.” She continued, peering where
he’d run. “Even if it weren’t for his age, he’s generally passive and
constantly controlled. I can’t say I’ve known him to be in such a hurry before
– it’s never been in his temperament. Everything always has a plan, a
schedule-”

“Now I know why you’re his assistant.” Will joked. Kaylori rolled
her eyes.

“You’re not wrong.” She admitted.

He nodded in satisfaction before turning back to where Overbuild
had run. “Okay, but what do you think he’s in a hurry for, anyway?” And as he
asked, he began to seriously wonder. He’d just had his conversation with Will
and Kaylori, and he’d found out about- about Aaron. Could it have had something
to do with that? Thus came a fresh wave of anxiety, as Will began to seriously
consider this option. He looked over to Kaylori again, who seemed to have come
to the same conclusion.

“Could it have been something one of us said?” She asked, turning
back to him. A genuine question. She didn’t know.

Will decided to do an Aaron.

“Not sure.” He admitted, before beginning to walk in the direction
they’d seen Overbuild go. “But I’m going to find out.”

In hindsight, he really should have accounted for how Kaylori was
going to react to such a preposition. Namely, badly.

“What? No!” She practically jumped in front of him, spreading her
arms out wide like a martyr prepared to die shielding a civilian. “Why would
you want to do that? There’s no- you don’t have-” She paused and inhaled before
trying again. “You can’t do that.”

“I’m pretty sure I can physically, if not technically.” Will
pointed out. Yes, it was probably gonna make Kaylori *more* annoyed, but he couldn’t think of anything else.

Kaylori blustered at him. “No!” Eloquence seemed to have failed
her. Maybe she was tired, or maybe she was just growing so used to disagreeing
with him at every turn that she’d given up on trying to explain her self with
any sort of formality. Either was a possibility, to tell the truth.

Will himself wasn’t sure why he wanted to follow Overbuild beyond…
curiosity. Well, no, that wasn’t exactly right. It was more of a gut feeling
than anything else. Or gut instinct, or something. Whatever. But he *was* suspicious. Running around when he
apparently never normally did that? Well, okay, that wasn’t a whole load of
evidence, but by this point Will was in full caution/protection mode. And
something didn’t sit well with him. Suddenly, Overbuild’s order to keep the
matter to himself had a more sinister implication to it. Was he… was he
planning something?

Armed with the knowledge that it was probably nothing, that if he
was caught he may well have been able to write it off as a
over-protective-friend syndrome (or come up with some other excuse, he was okay
at lying all things considered), and that he could outrun Kaylori because he
hadn’t stepped on glass with an unprotected foot, Will did the heroic thing and
absolutely gunned it, sprinting off past Kaylori and in the direction that
Overbuild had gone, ignoring her shouts. For a moment, he was worried that
she’d alert some kind of security to him, but there didn’t actually seem to
have been anyone else in the area with them. For now, at least, he was safe
from interference.

Almost immediately, his muscles began to burn. Not recovered from
his last bout of sprinting, he tired out much more quickly, and dropped to a
powerwalk before too long. He’d just made out Overbuild diving behind a corner,
and that was where he headed, walking with all his might. Once there, it became
a matter of tailing Overbuild as he continued to hasten, trying desperately to
actually keep up with the man. And yes. It did hurt his pride that he was
continuously being almost outpaced by a borderline elderly man.

Still, the Doctor eventually came to a halt, and Will allowed
himself two deep breaths before turning back to examine what Overbuild was
doing. The Doctor was facing a seemingly-innocuous segment of wall – just,
randomly, in the middle of the hallway – and was reaching out for something
that Will couldn’t see. He did something with his hand; and then, a small
segment of wall slid away and inwards, revealing some kind of tunnel. A secret
door!

The Doctor walked inside the doorway, which slid shut right after
it. It was, Will figured, all very suspicious. Well, perhaps not *so* suspicious, but it was still strange
behaviour for a man in a position of power such as Overbuild who, Will figured,
ought to have been under enough general scrutiny to not have secret holes in
the wall.

He was thinking about whether to actually try and open the door
himself or just drop the matter for now when a hand clamped itself down onto
his shoulder. Turning around as a burst of adrenaline hit him, he was met by
Kaylori’s scowling face.

“Oh hey, it’s limpy.” He blurted. Her scowl intensified, but he
pointed to where he felt like the door had been before she could actually
attack him or something. “Look, I saw Overbuild go through, like, a secret hole
in the wall. You have to admit that that’s a *little* suspicious.”

“Hole in the wall?” Kaylori’s interested looked to be piqued. Will
breathed a sigh of relief.

“Is it, like, common knowledge among your faction?” He asked. She
limped over to where he was pointing and peered at it intensely.

“No.” She said, simply.

“Ah.” He said, not sure what else to say. She looked like she was
really focusing now. What was she… oh. “Are you looking for the entrance?” He
asked?

She nodded, but said nothing. He narrowed his eyes at her.

“You sure changed your tune fast.” He observed, and maybe he
shouldn’t have phrased it quite like that, because now she was up in his face.

“*Look*.” She said.
“There’s *no* mention of a room in this
point in the tower, hidden or not, and seeing as I helped *build* this damn place, I feel like I’m entitled to know exactly why
it’s here. And I didn’t “change my tune”. I still disagree with you following
Overbuild around like this, and with any luck, he’ll find you and you’ll get in
a suitable amount of trouble for it. But seeing as how you’re such a stubborn
prick, I figured I might as well take advantage of that and get you to tell me
what’s in the secret hidey-hole Overbuild’s apparently got hidden somewhere.
Because people shouldn’t be allowed to have secret rooms, no matter who they
are.”

She trailed off panting. Will stared at her for a good several
seconds, taking his time to process the tirade. She folded her arms and bit
down on her lower lip before saying:

“*And* I’m curious as
well. I’ll admit it. Stop staring at me, this isn’t a damn interrogation.” And
with that, she turned back to the wall and began to focus on it again, trying
to find the entrance to the room Will’d seen. He shook himself out of his
shock.

“No, it’s not that, I just… you helped build this?” He looked
around at the Tower in wonder. It’d been a project essentially taken on by the
Assembly Faction (the faction that built stuff – go figure), but the way
Kaylori had phrased it had made it sound as though she’d played a bigger part
than most.

Kaylori nodded without turning to face him. “It was what got me
the job as Overbuild’s assistant.” She revealed, with a hint of pride in her
voice. “I’m about three times as quick at proof-reading schematics and figuring
out logistics as everyone else, so when he wanted someone to go through all his
ideas for various parts of the tower, I was the best person they could find to
help. Apparently.”

“Huh.” Will said, dumbly. Then: “That’s pretty neat.”

“Yeah.” Kaylori said, before rummaging around in one of her
pockets and unearthing a handheld device. She muttered to herself: “Okay, let’s
see what we have here.”

There was a blip of light from the device. Kaylori leant forward
and pressed her hand against the wall. A panel, Will saw, sunk slightly inward,
and the door slid open again. Will couldn’t contain his impressed-ness.

“Nice one.” He said. Kaylori smirked at him.

“Handheld X-ray.” She said, still sounding proud. “Don’t leave
home without it.”

“Aren’t X-Rays super dangerous?” He asked. The pride slid off of
her face.

“Not if you use it infrequently, they’re not.” She replied,
stuffing the device back into her pocket.

Will held up his hands placatingly. “Sorry, it’s just doctors say
that it’s perfectly safe and then move three rooms away to activate the
things.”

Kaylori didn’t even deign him with a reply (which was fair,
maybe). Instead, she just glared at him and didn’t move from where she stood,
tapping a finger against her arm in a gesture of impatience.

Message received; it was time to get a wriggle on.

Will approached the doorway. She indicated to it flamboyantly.

“After you.” She drawled, in a manner that could only have been
sarcastic. There was a bite to her words, and he could guess what she was
essentially saying by it. *It’s your idea,*
so you lead the way and get in trouble*. Well, that really* was *fair.*

He dipped his hat. She frowned, and he slinked through the doorway
into a dark passage. Kaylori stepped behind him, and a second later the door
slid shut. Leaving them in what would have been pitch blackness were it not for
the faint light emanating from the end of the short passageway. He shuddered.

“Scared of the dark?” Kaylori asked him.

“Just a tad nyctophobic.” He joked. (He wasn’t, really.)

The faint light was coming from a portal – a small one lodged in
the end of the passageway.

“Oh, that’s strange.” Kaylori said. Will, though he didn’t say
anything out loud, had to agree. Portals – teleporters – were difficult to
create and set up, and, in more than one way, expensive to sustain. The fact
that Overbuild had one hidden away was… odd, to say the least.

Will spared a glance for Kaylori. She stood a little way away from
the portal, staring at it with her arms hanging by her sides. Her posture was
still strong, but she looked… stupefied.

“How’s the foot?” He asked. She jumped a little.

“Doesn’t hurt anymore.” She observed. The sock had come off
somewhere along the line, Will dumbly noticed. She sighed. “Though maybe it’s
just numb.”

“Stepping on glass would do that do you.” Will reasoned. She
shrugged. The two turned to look back to the portal. It was a soft swirling
orange light, being emitted by a number of metal conduits and bits and bobs
embedded into the walls. A couple of wires hung from the ceiling. In spite of
how recent it had probably been made, it felt a lot more low-tech and old than
the rest of the tower. The aesthetic sent a chill down Will’s spine.

“Are we sure we want to do this?”

It was Kaylori who’d asked. Will turned to her in surprise. Her
earlier enthusiasm – even her anger – had been replaced by something, he
reasoned, akin to trepidation.

“Thought you wanted to see me get in trouble.” He reasoned. When
that didn’t elicit a reaction, he continued: “And… that you were curious. Or
was I wrong?”

Kaylori sighed.

“You know about blissful ignorance?” She asked him. He scoffed;
genuinely offended.

“Of course I know.” He said. “Don’t insult my intelligence.”

“What intelligence is that?” She shot back, before sighing. “I
just- yeah. What if we don’t really want to know what this is? I don’t think
you’ll argue with me when I say that this is… this is all just odd.”

“This seems sudden.” He pointed out.

She folded her arms. “Call it a hunch.”

Will shrugged. “Okay. This hunch seems sudden.”

Instead of verbally replying, Kaylori spat in his general
direction. Which really summed it all up.

The portal still swirled in front of them.

“Well then. Ladies first.” Kaylori offered.

Will glanced at her sceptically. “I’m not sure what makes you
think *I’m* the lady out of the two of
us.”

“Oh, you’re so much more dainty than I am, that’s what it is.”
Kaylori explained, a weary smirk on her face. Will looked at her quizzically.
She stared back at him, nonplussed, before rolling up a sleeve and flexing her
bicep. “Come on,” she said, “I’m a builder…? Who builds thing? With heavy
materials?”

Will forlornly compared her muscles and his, admitting in his head
that hers were better. *Damn it.*

Kaylori whistled. “Get going, ladyboy.”

Will flipped her the middle finger. She snorted.

“Well *that* was unladylike.” He could hear the humour in her voice, and
decided to actually get on with it and step through the portal before she
mocked him any further – though not before getting one last jab in.

“Who says ladies have to be dainty and un-muscular?” He reasoned
as he stepped through. “I’m just saying, all you’re doing is stereotyping
yourself!”

Kaylori demonstrated how much she cared by sticking her tongue out
at him. Nodding sarcastically (which was a thing he could do, yes, that was a
physical possibility, thank you very much), Will ducked into the portal without
any further ado.

He couldn’t say that he’d never been through a portal before –
there were several in Nexus Tower, after all, and they were far more efficient
then stairs, or even an elevator. But he didn’t think he’d ever get used to the
feeling of actually walking through one. It was a little like stepping into a
cold shower, or through a curtain of water, only without the wetness to it.
Shuddering as he slipped through the chilly film of energy, he emerged through
the other side and blinked as he found himself in what was essentially a small
tunnel, dimly-lit and made of rocks, that lead out into a room that appeared to
dip downwards. Though he was eager to move forward and investigate, the sound
of voices held him back. One of them he recognised as Overbuild’s voice; the
other he didn’t recognise, but sounded deep, gravelly, and not a little bit monstrous.

Kaylori stepped through the portal a moment later; she took a step
forward, and he put his arm out to block her way. When she glared at him, he
indicated with his head in the direction of the cavern, where the voices were
coming from. She listened for a moment, then nodded in understanding.
Satisfied, he dropped his hand. Kaylori a second listening to the voices, and
then begin creep towards the end of the rocky tunnel, clearly intent on
eavesdropping on the conversation that was being had.

Where had all her qualms about intruding on her boss’ private
affair’s gone? Will wasn’t sure, but the truth was that the place they were in
now… there was something about it that simply didn’t feel right. There was a
chill in the air, an energy that he couldn’t place, that sent a shiver up his
spine and made part of him want to turn right back around, walk through the
portal, and pretend as though they’d never strayed so far to begin with.
Kaylori, as if echoing his thoughts, shuddered, and their eyes met. No.
Something was clearly wrong, and whatever it was, they’d see it through to the
end.

He began to follow, ensuring that he didn’t kick any of the rocks
that lay on the floor with his boots. Privately, he couldn’t help but wonder
where this place was, and why it was apparently so crudely made that it was
essentially just a hole dug in the ground. It looked to be underground, but…?

It was Kaylori’s turn to stop *him*, now – reaching the edge
of the tunnel, she held a hand out to bring him to a halt, and then pressed
herself against the wall of the edge of the tunnel, listening with all her
might. Lacking any other options, Will backed up against the wall until he was
just short of pressing against Kaylori, and then listened too.

“…in Avant Gardens’ Crystal Caves, apparently.” Said Overbuild.
“How it managed to get there is beyond me – it must have jumped hosts at least
once…”

“This is unimportant.” Came the voice that he was apparently
conversing with. Will shuddered at the sound of it – it felt as though the very
ground under his feet was shaking.

“No, no, you’re right.” Overbuild said, muttering to himself so
quietly that Will could only barely make out what he was saying. “The important
thing now is to get it back. We’ll have to kill the new host, of course, but…”

The sound of Doctor Overbuild – a respected faction leader who
generally wasn’t even associated with violence – so casually premeditating
murder was a startling one, to say the least. Will could practically feel
Kaylori jump out of her skin at hearing the words, and he himself was
thoroughly unsettled. Who was Overbuild talking to, and what was so important
that murder was apparently on the table?

“We should not have to bother.” Growled the other speaker. “It was
a failure to begin with. Why does it matter?”

Overbuild spluttered, sounding taken aback. “Be- I- Because those
gems are *extremely* powerful weapons, and even one that’s been tampered
with could still be dangerous if fallen into the wrong hands!”

*Gems*. The realisation shook Will to his core. If
the “it” they were referring to was a gem, and its host was Aaron-

Oh no.

Stumbling away from Kaylori, Will turned back towards the portal.
He’d heard enough. Aaron was in danger. He had to go.

Kaylori turned to face him as he backed away.

*Where are you going*, she mouthed. Will flinched, and
indicated the portal behind him with his thumb, trying to get his message
across. He was leaving. Kaylori frowned, but couldn’t try to communicate with
him further, as suddenly the deep voice was echoing throughout both the tunnel
and chamber.

“Overbuild,” it said, coldly, “perhaps something ought to be done
about the eavesdroppers that seem to have followed you through your portal.”

Will’s gut lurched. They’d been discovered.

Cover blown, he immediately began to dash for the portal, his
already-tired body screaming in protest as he tried to force it to move again.
But he’d barely taken a step when something seized his waist and pulled,
sending him reeling backwards. He stuck his hands behind his head to protect his
skull as he slammed down onto the floor, yelling in surprise and pain. He heard
Kaylori shriek, and then something was dragging, dragging, dragging him along
the rocky floor and then hoisting him up into the air.

The chamber that Overbuild and his companion had been talking in
looked much like the tunnel, in that it appeared to have been messily carved
out of the earth and rock and then left in such a state. The lights were dim,
embedded into the ceiling of the circular chamber. The ceiling was low, and the
whole ground was a slope (embedded with stairs that led down from the portal)
that ended in the centre of the chamber. It was there that both Overbuild and
the person he was talking to had been standing.

Well, “person” was probably inaccurate.

At first glance, it looked at least vaguely human – it had a
humanoid body, with arms and legs and a head – all that fun stuff. But its form
was fluctuating, and distorting slightly, like a malfunctioning hologram. Dark
smoke was rising from it, creating wisps of steam that curled in the air around
it and almost obscured its actual shape. And what little Will could see, he
couldn’t say he was a fan of. A skeletal smile, not dissimilar to the ones
carved on a pumpkin. Glowing, blood-red lights on its face that probably served
as its eyes. One (clawed?) hand was clenched around a staff, inky black and
topped with a crystal. A strand of energy was what had ensnared Will – and it
was the thing currently holding him above the ground, dangling him like a fish
about to be shoved into the mouth of the octopus holding it prisoner. A quick
glance to the side showed him that Kaylori, too, was being held above the
ground. And though she was struggling to break free, it was clear that this
thing wasn’t going to let them go anytime soon.

Will had once heard of a pigment created by artists that was so
dark, that when they’d tried to make clothes out of it, the models just looked
like they’d had their bodies clipped out of the pictures. It was as if someone
had taken that pigment, and then used it to sculpt a vaguely human form. And as
it looked up at him, and as it smiled, his fear only grew.

“You’ve strayed far, little ones.” The thing said. Its eyes
flashed with energy, and its smile widened. Like it couldn’t wait to rip them
apart.

Will gulped.

“Kaylori!”

The exclamation came from Overbuild, who strode past the thing
suspending Will and Kaylori in the air without paying it any mind. Instead, his
attention was on his struggling assistant.

“Kaylori, what in the- what are you doing here?” He demanded, an
anxious tilt to his voice. He sounded simultaneously like a child that had just
been discovered breaking the rules, and the parent who had discovered them.
“Why did you follow me?”

“The real question is-” Kaylori coughed as the energy tightened
around her stomach, but directed a steely glare at Overbuild nonetheless. “What
is *this*, and what is *that*, and what are you doing down here? Why
did you say that you had to kill someone?”

Rather then answer her question, Overbuild took a step backwards.
Then, he shook his head in dismay.

“You shouldn’t have followed me.” He emphasised, sounding forlorn.
“This wasn’t for you to hear.”

“Yeah? Well.” Kaylori coughed again. “I heard it. And it- what *is*
this?” She asked again, waving furiously with her arms to indicate their whole
surroundings. “A secret cavern connected to a hidden teleporter?”

“Yeah, that’s just shady.” Will chimed in. Kaylori glared at him
in a very “not helping!” manner, and he shut his mouth hastily, but the damage had
been done as Overbuild’s attention turned towards him.

“Oh, Mister Adalwin…” He mused, sounding a lot less heartbroken
all of a sudden. Will didn’t figure that that was a good sign.

“Yo.” He waved. “Um, I actually have questions of my own? If
that’s alright? Like, you were talking about a gem, and a host, and how you’d
have to, uh, kill the host.” He licked his drying lips, swaying slightly in the
energy tendril’s grasp. “Any chance you could clarify a couple of things about
that? Because from my perspective it sounds as though you’re talking about my
dear friend Aaron, who I’d appreciate not having to die, if at all possible-”

“Aaron?” Kaylori gasped, presumably just catching on. “Wha- sir,
you can’t just *kill* him, what about the potential to be garnered from-”

“What about the fact that you don’t just kill people?” Will
interrupted, glaring at Kaylori. Disappointment flared up in him – first at
Kaylori, for remaining insistent that Aaron’s condition and its scientific
whatever was the most important thing about the situation, but then at himself
for assuming that she’d changed her mind about any of that just because they’d
come to a compromise. “Like,” he continued, “you’re a Doctor. There’s an oath
against killing people, isn’t there?”

Before Overbuild could open his mouth, Kaylori interjected.

“That’s only medical doctors, genius.” She said sarcastically. He
could practically hear her rolling her eyes at him.

“Okay, but still! It’s still morally bad-!” He protested, but had
only just managed to get his words out when the energy around him constricted
further, cutting him off. Suddenly, it was all he could do to keep breathing.

“I tire of this.” Rumbled the energy person. Overbuild reached a
hand out towards him.

“Darkitecht, don’t!” He ordered. “I will not have more blood on my
hands then necessary-”

“It won’t be on *your* hands.” “Darkitecht” said, in a very
distressing display of logic. The tendrils tightened again. Will gasped in
pain.

“Darkitecht. *Eric*.” Overbuild reached out helplessly
towards the shadowy figure. “Please.”

A heartbeat passed. Then, the energy’s grip on Will loosened. He
gasped for breath, lungs starving as he savoured the air. An involuntary
shudder passed through him – God, that had been terrifying.

“You will not be able to let them go.” Darkitecht pointed out.
“There is no sense in keeping them alive.”

“No less then there is in killing them.” Overbuild seemed to be
doubling down on his apparent no-death policy, which Will was personally very
grateful for – though, why would he be so willing to keep them alive, and yet
so blasé about having Aaron killed? If that was the case, Will reasoned, then
the gems that Overbuild had mentioned – one of which Aaron apparently had – had
to be extremely important in some way.

What in the name of sanity was going on?

“But what will I do? Where to…” Overbuild trailed off, and began
to rub his chin pensively.

“Sir!” Was it just Will’s imagination, or was there a little more
desperation to Kaylori’s cry this time? “Please!”

“Kaylori, I- I’m sorry.” Said Overbuild, who did at least sound
upset. “But I’m afraid you and your companion here have stumbled upon a secret
of the highest order – and we can take no chances in ensuring that this
information will leak.”

“We won’t say anything!” Kaylori protested – whether she was
telling the truth or not, Will wasn’t sure. “We won’t tell anyone, we won’t…”
She trailed off.

Will wanted to say something, but couldn’t bring himself to do so
– the fact of the matter was, whatever these two were planning involved Aaron,
and consequentially, his family. Himself, Plue, Anna – the people that Will was
closest to. He couldn’t just promise to forget it.

“You can trust her.” He instead said. “I mean, probably. I don’t
know her that well-” He glanced over to Kaylori to discover that her expression
was one of incredulity, and realised that his endorsement didn’t sound very
strong. “-but she, um, she has a good, uh… .” He tried to backtrack. “She just
strikes me as trustworthy, is all. I think you could afford to let her go.” He
wasn’t sure if the opinion came from hoping Kaylori would find a way to save
him, or perhaps just so that she wouldn’t have go to through whatever this
dynamic duo had planned for them – but he knew that it would sound more
convincing then forcing himself to lie and promising that he himself wouldn’t
tell anyone. Because he would.

“I’m afraid I cannot.” Responded Overbuild, simply.

To that, Will had no adequate response.

Overbuild shook his head, looking very disappointed, and then
turned away in a move that looked more final then Will could say he was
comfortable with.

“Si-” Kaylori was cut off as Darkitecht shook the tendrils holding
her and Will. Will gritted his teeth at the motion, nausea hitting him like a
train.

“You would do well to remain quiet.” Said Darkitecht.

Will wanted to say something in response to this, but instead he
weakly spat down onto the floor of the cavern, the pressure around his chest
beginning to ache immensely. His breath was rattling in his lungs from the
stress and the pressure.

“Are you certain,” Darkitecht asked, “that you do not wish to just
have them killed?”

“I am.” Overbuild said – though not after a moment’s hesitation
that turned Will’s blood to ice in his veins.

Darkitecht stared at Overbuild for a few long moments; long enough
that Will began to worry that this figure would ignore Overbuild’s ruling, and
simply kill them himself, but eventually, its form shifted in a motion that
vaguely resembled a shrug, and the tension in the air dissipated a little.

“I still cannot fathom what use could come of them.” It confessed.

“Highwing could always use more subjects.” Replied Overbuild, in a
response that made approximately no sense to Will. Kaylori must have felt the
same, because she spoke up again:

“What… what’s Highwing?” She breathlessly asked.

Overbuild gazed at them, eyes still hidden behind those damned
goggles.

“You’ll see.” He said.

Still clutching Will and Kaylori in its tendrils, Darkitecht began
to stomp towards the portal.

### ***CHAPTER 19: TACTICAL ESPIONAGE***

Before Dilip had even arrived with his findings, Plue’s instincts
were telling her that something was really wrong.

To simplify, the faction leaders had private servers and files
with information that only they could access – as in, they personally, and the other
faction leaders. Her uncle had set up the system to ensure that there were no
secrets among the leaders of the Nexus Force (he was forward-thinking like
that), and had allowed her access so that she could better prepare herself for
the job she’d one day inherit. The problem was that while Overbuild *did*
have plenty of documents and files on his private server, a big chunk of them
were inaccessible, even to her. She’d messaged Vector about it – an *actual*
faction leader who, if anyone, should be able to get to it – but he’d come back
to her saying that no, he hadn’t been able to check them either.

This by itself was slightly suspicious, but not necessarily a
cause for concern. Overbuild could, of course, simply be a person who valued
his privacy. And hey, she could empathize with that, so she couldn’t really
come after him on that info alone. Except… if someone wanted privacy, they
ought to be able to just save their own files somewhere else, surely? But the
servers for the Faction Leaders, Plue knew, had far better security and all
that. Meaning that Overbuild had these files that were crucial enough to be
placed under the security of the Faction Leader’s servers, but still so private
that he wouldn’t allow anyone other than himself access to them. Still *technically*
reasonable, but it was a little more suspicious.

There was also the fact that, for the first time, she was really
beginning to question Overbuild’s patterns. The man would spend hours, and
sometimes even days, unaccounted for. In the past, it had more or less been
accepted on the grounds that he was an eccentric genius, and that he was
working on top-secret projects that would bear fruit and help to defeat the
maelstrom (or something along those lines). And yet, for all the time he’d
spent AWOL (and, as she was checking through week after week of reports, it was
clear that he spent more time away then anyone had really noticed), he had
surprisingly little to show for it. Some creations and discoveries, sure, but
not as many as one would have first thought. And okay, maybe he just had a slow
work ethic, sure, but the fact that he’d now been indicted into some suspicious
and secret activity was reflecting very poorly on this information.

Basically; it was all adding up. And it only became murkier when
Dilip slipped into her office while she was in the middle of flicking through
expenses reports.

“Something you should know.” He said, simply.

Plue looked up, squinting at him through her reading glasses.
“What about?” She asked.

“About our suspect.” Dilip elaborated, walking over and sitting in
the visitors’ seat on the other side of her desk. “And what he might be up to.”

Plue dropped the reports. “Tell me.” She ordered – not that that
was necessary. Dilip, cool as ever, nodded acquiescence.

“I was shadowing him.” He began, by way of contextualization.
“Keeping an eye on his movements. And some time ago, I saw him disappear into a
hidden room in the tower.”

“A wha- a hidden room?” Plue gripped her desk urgently. “Dilip,
what was he doing? What was in there?”

“I do not know.” Responded Dilip. “I did not follow him in. But it
was very much not an openly advertised space. It was on floor… floor 203, I
believe.”

“Floor 203.” Plue opened up her computer and began to flick
through the tower’s official layout. “Where did you say it was? Like,
location-wise?”

“A little ways away from the Nexus itself.” Dilip replied.

“Okay.” Plue bit her lip. “Well, I’m not seeing any rooms marked
as Assembly-owned on that whole floor.”

“Are there any rooms marked as private?” Dilip suggested. He made
a good point; some of the rooms in the tower were still listed on the tower’s
map, but didn’t have apparent entrances or locations, so as to not advertise
their existence. (There were probably lots of uses for a room like that,
although Plue couldn’t say she’d thought of one herself.)

“On 203…? No.” She realised as she scanned the map. “None of the
rooms there are marked as private.”

“Which is odd,” Dilip added gravely, “because by Nexus Force
specification, private rooms of that nature have to be listed as existing.”

Plue nodded. “Exactly.” It was a security measure – a way of
ensuring that parties didn’t create their own hidden areas of the tower. And it
looked as though that was exactly Overbuild had done. “We’ll probably have to
go through it more thoroughly-”

“Of course.” Dilip interjected, sounding almost affronted at the
idea that they *wouldn’t* do their research properly.

“-but from the outset, it looks like Overbuild has himself an
unlisted room.” Finished Plue, inhaling deeply and staring at the computer
screen. Dimly, she noticed that her leg was bouncing up and down from excess
nervous energy. “Which is suspicious.”

“It does nothing to make him look innocent, yes.” Agreed Dilip.

Sighing, Plue leant back in her seat and rested her palms behind
her head, contemplative.

“Is that all?” She asked, peering down her nose at Dilip. To her
surprise, he shook his head.

“Two people followed him in.” He revealed. “A man and a woman – I
do not think they were with him. They only went in after he had already
entered, and looked to be trailing him.”

Plue sat back up in her seat. Now this was interesting.

“They were trailing him?” She repeated. Dilip nodded. She furrowed
her brow. Why were they doing that? Did they suspect him of something? Was it a
separate issue, or did they have the same suspicions as she did?

“Dilip.” Plue murmured thoughtfully. “Could you bring those two to
me? I think we might want to talk to them; hear their side of the story.”

Dilip shook his head. “There’s a problem with that.” He said.
“They didn’t come out.”

Plue paused. Blinked. Began tapping her finger on her desk.

“Clarify.” She ordered.

“I saw them go into the room, first Overbuild and then the people
following him. I waited outside for around an hour.” Dilip explained. “After
that point, Overbuild re-emerged, but the people following him did not.”

“What on…” Plue rubbed her head. “How does *that* work? First
of all, if it’s just a secret room, how would they go in without him noticing
them?”

“Perhaps he did notice them, then.” Offered Dilip.

Plue gesticulated aimlessly with her hand. “Then why didn’t they
leave with him?” She asked. “Why didn’t they leave *at all*? That’s…” the
word “sinister” didn’t quite get formed as she realised that no, actually, that
*was* fairly sinister. What had happened in there?

Dilip, who had doubtlessly reached the conclusion himself, remained
solemnly silent.

“…I think extreme measures are warranted.” Plue concluded. She
turned to Dilip. “I think the first thing we should do is to survey the- wait, *was*
there surveillance footage?” She asked. “Like, there were cameras, right?”

Dilip shook his head. “None in that hallway.”

“What the cuss?” Was Plue’s response. “Shouldn’t there be
cameras?”

Dilip shrugged helplessly. Plue pinched the bridge of her nose in
frustration.

“Okay, forget about that for now.” She said. “In that case… what
we need…” She glanced back at the screen of her computer. A couple of clicks,
and she was staring at Overbuild’s private files once again. It seemed wrong. A
breach of privacy, a potential total misstep, a mistake waiting to happen. But
if Dilip was telling the truth, if Rose was telling the truth… she couldn’t
just sit by. “What we need,” she said slowly, “is access to those files.”

Dilip walked around the edge of her desk and stared at her screen
– silently contemplating.

“I agree.” He eventually said. “But if you cannot gain access to
them now, how are you going to?”

“That’s a good question.” Admitted Plue. “It’d probably be possible,
with a lot of time and effort, to override his security and gain access – *but*
the whole “information has to hold up” thing means that that’s too shady a
means to get our hands on that information. If we want to bust what’s
happening, it’d be best if we can do it in a way that doesn’t get us dragged
down along with it.”

Dilip simply nodded in agreement, not even saying anything this
time. (He was a man of few words, really. Plue appreciated that.)

Plue nodded back. “Okay.” She said. “I’m going to need… I’m gonna
need…” She snapped her fingers to fill the silence as she thought. What was the
best way to handle this? How was she going to get at those files while they
were under digital lock and key?

“Perhaps,” offered Dilip, “we could get the files that we want to
look at shown to us, somehow.”

“How does *that* work?” Plue asked, adopting a(n admittedly
unwarranted) sarcastic tone of voice. ““Ah yes, Overbuild, old chum, I’m afraid
it’s “file exchange day”, if we could just take a peek inside all that stuff
you have on the private server that’s not accessible to us otherwise? That’s be
great.” He’s not going to be willing to give it up – presumably – and in any
case, if we ask, he’s probably going to figure out what we’re doing. Which’d
suck.”

“But,” Dilip continued unperturbed, “if we could think of a reason
to be shown the files? A legitimate one?”

“Well, yeah, that could work.” Plue admitted. “I just… don’t know
what that reason could be, is all.”

“What about if you had to be given everything on the Nexus Force’s
server, for whatever reason?” Dilip asked. “Nobody would question you being
able to access Overbuild’s private files if you could access *everything*.”

“Access everything, huh?” Plue mused. “Huh…” It made sense, she
supposed. And yet-

“What are the criteria for people being given access to every file
on the system?” She asked, leaning forward in her chair and beginning to type.

Dilip remained stoic, but hummed in thought.

“I think,” he ventured after a little while, “that when the system
is restored or re-saved, security is considered less of a priority when
compared to the actual information.”

“That’s a big “think”.” Plue pointed out, continuing to type.

So, step one, then. Find out under what circumstances she’d be
able to bypass the security system with as few questions asked as possible. How
was she…?

“There’s a tech team, right? There has to be.” She stopped typing
and began tapping on her desk again, unable to keep her fingers properly still.
“Could we ask one of them to help us get access?”

“It’d be a risk.” Cautioned Dilip. “The more people know what
we’re doing, the greater our chances are that we are discovered.”

“Right, right.” Plue waved her hand. “But could we ask one of
them?”

“I can find someone and bring them up?” Dilip suggested.

Plue nodded. “That works. Just- bring them up here, and I’ll talk
to them.”

Dilip slipped out of the room, leaving Plue alone to think.

Okay, this was going to have to be a very diplomatic conversation,
for starters. It would also have to be talking to a complete stranger… she
clenched her jaw. No, no, this was something that she was going to have to
learn to deal with either way. She couldn’t be held back by discomfort.

Now, how to phrase everything…?

Thankfully, Dilip only returned several minutes later – giving
Plue enough time to roughly throw together a script in her head. She could do
this. Totally. Easily. One hundred percent. Okay, maybe not one hundred, that
was unrealistic.

Following Dilip along was a man clad in the dark grey overalls of
a maintenance worker. There were hundreds, if not thousands, on duty in the
tower, not belonging to any faction but rather solely focused on maintaining
the structure and systems and hygiene of the fortress-like building. Plue had a
lot of respect for them.

“You’re… Plue Abernathy, right?” The maintenance person observed
as they stepped into Plue’s office. Behind him, Dilip shut the door.

“The one and only.” Plue waved her hands in a sort of
unenthusiastic “jazz hands” gesture. It wasn’t as though she was an unknown
within the force – though she wasn’t leader *yet*, she’d been officially
announced as her uncle’s successor a little while ago, and that had obviously
brought her a lot of attention. “And there’s something I need help with.”

“Help?” Echoed the maintenance person. “What with?”

Plue steepled her fingers paused for a moment before actually
saying anything. (Stress!)

“What I’m about to ask you, and tell you, cannot leave this room.”
She explained, being sure to speak in no uncertain terms. “It’s all
confidential, and if that’s not something you’re comfortable with, you’re free
to leave. But you… you should know.”

The maintenance person blinked. “Whoa.” He muttered.

“Yeah.” Agreed Plue. “It’s a bit…” she waved her hand. “A bit
much. But like I said, you’re free to leave-”

“No, no.” Said the maintenance person. “It’s fine. Okay.” He
sighed, running a hand through his curly hair. “What do you need me to do?”

Plue and Dilip exchanged a glance. Well, this was it.

“I’ll try my best to summarize efficiently.” Plue said. “We have
reason to suspect that Doctor Overbuild is doing something suspicious at best,
and something that violates both regular laws and human rights codes at worst.
We need access to his private files – the ones that are on the Nexus Force
Leaders’ server but are accessible only to him – and we need to do so in a way
that’ll hold up under investigation-slash-in court, should it come to that.”

The maintenance person blinked. Said nothing. Blinked again.

“Plue, I think you said everything too quickly.” Dilip said
solemnly. “You should have eased them into it.”

“Wha- I- no!” Plue protested. “I didn’t want to beat around the
bush! I-!” She turned back to the maintenance person. “I’m *so* sorry,
that was probably a lot to take in. I promise there’s no pressure.” She
considered what she was saying. “Despite how it sounds.”

The maintenance person’s response was slow.

“No- no, it’s fine.” He said. “Just a… sorry. Like you said.” He
smiled apologetically. “Just a lot to take in.”

“That is a simple way to put it.” Dilip said from behind him. “If
you want no part of this it will not be held against you – although,” and here
his voice darkened a little, “you must understand that you will not be allowed
to speak of this affair until it is made public either way.”

The maintenance person held up their hands. “No, no, I get it!” He
insisted. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna tell anyone.”

*He’d better not*, thought Plue, although she kept that opinion
to herself on the grounds that it sounded too threatening to really phrase
well.

“Thank you.” She said, instead.

“Can you help us?” Dilip added, arms folded.

“I…” The maintenance person slipped down their seat a little, brow
furrowed, sinking into thought. Plue knew the expression.

“I think I can.” He eventually said. “Well, I mean- maybe.”

“It’d be much appreciated.” Plue responded. “What have you got for
us?”

“Well, sometimes malicious data gets through our firewalls.” The
maintenance person explained. “Bugs, glitches, that sort of thing. In the event
that there’s a suspected security breach, it’s possible to order the handover
of all files, and that those files are all made accessible so that they can be
properly scanned and cleaned.”

“And If we order that handover, we’ll be able to look at those
files?” Plue asked. The maintenance person shrugged.

“That’s the big problem.” He admitted. “Files have different
levels of accessibility, and the only way we can be authorized to go through
them is if someone of a certain rank grants us access. For instance, what
you’re asking is access to a faction leader’s private files. To do that,
someone of equal rank – so, another faction leader – needs to give you the
okay.”

Plue blinked. That could work. “So, if we were given authorization
by a faction leader, we’d be allowed to get our hands on those files?” She
echoed, just to be sure that she was understanding right.

“Yes, but…” The maintenance worker’s voice died away as Plue
yanked her phone from the top of the desk and began furiously scrolling through
her contacts. Finding Vector, she called him and held the phone to her ear, now
rhymically tapping all the fingers on her opposite hand against the desk from
the tension.

He picked up after about three rings.

“Plue!” She heard him gasp. “Thank God. I am *so* bored right
now.”

“Hi, Vector, I need to run something by you real quick.” Plue
said, putting on a voice that was more casual then she really felt. “We have
reason to suspect that there’s some malware on the Nexus Force private servers?
We think it’s gotten into the Faction Leader’s files; we just need you – as a
faction leader – to give us an okay to get past security and look into it.”

“Look into-?” Vector sounded confused (which made sense, he didn’t
have any context yet), but still willing. “Uh, yeah, sure. I hereby bestow my
permission, or whatever.”

“Thanks.” Plue pulled the phone away from her head and turned back
to the maintenance person. “Does he have to sign something, or will that do?”

“Um, I think he has to sign a form.” Admitted the maintenance
person. “I’m sure we can get a copy easily enough but…”

“Don’t know what I expected.” Muttered Plue in derision. “Of
course he has to sign a form. There’s *always* a cussing form.” She pulled
the phone back to her ear. “Vector? Yeah, uh. It turns out you actually need to
sign a form, so you’ll probably want to drop in on my office.”

“Can do!” Vector replied. “I’ll be there as quickly as I can,
yeah?”

“Not *too* quickly.” She joked. “I still need to actually get
my hands on the paperwork. I’ll keep you posted.”

“Wait! Wait!” Vector blurted out as Plue was about to hang up.
“C’mon, give me something more to work with, here! I just sat through, like,
three hours’ worth of meeting without falling asleep *once*. People kept
looking at me funny because they didn’t expect to see me awake. *Please*
tell me something interesting’s happening on your end.”

““Interesting” is definitely one way to put it.” Plue muttered.
“I’ll run you through any details you want to know once you get here. Just…
come over whenever.”

Hanging up, she turned back to the maintenance person, who was
watching her with a somewhat stunned expression. “Okay, that’s sorted.”

“…Okay.” The maintenance person breathed.

Plue blinked. “You… think it’ll work?”

“…Yeah?” Said the maintenance person, hesitating again. His tone
was questioning.

Resisting the urge to comment (hey, this guy was probably as lost
as she was in the grand scheme of things, no use in getting annoyed at him for
it), Plue instead steepled her fingers again.

“Do you have any idea from where you could actually find the form
we need?” She asked.

“I have a good idea, I guess, yeah.” Mused the maintenance worker.
“We- I think there’s a batch of blank forms in the main maintenance office.”

“Okay.” Plue turned to face Dilip, who was still standing in the
corner with his arms folded in a vaguely foreboding manner. She jerked her head
in the direction of the door. “Mind going with him,” she indicated to the
maintenance worker, “and finding it?”

“I can do that.” Agreed Dilip. She was reluctant to give him
orders – it wasn’t as though he was really her subordinate, or anything,
especially considering that they came from different factions – but thankfully
he didn’t seem to hold it against her. Both of them knew: what they were
involved in may well go past factions altogether. They had to act as a unit on
this one.

The maintenance worker interrupted Plue’s though process by
raising a hand.

“Uh, if it’s not too much trouble Ma’am, I actually use they-them
pronouns.” He – *they* – said.

“Of course.” Plue assured them, even as she was inwardly cursing
herself over the gaffe. “No trouble at all, don’t worry.”

Dilip, without any further ado, pushed himself off the wall and
headed to the door, opening it before turning back around and indicating to the
maintenance worker with a jerk of his head. Wordlessly, they followed him
through, slipping out of the room and letting the door shut behind them before
Plue had even realised that she’d never actually asked their name.

Yeesh.

Sighing, she leant back in the chair – again – and stared up at
the ceiling, suddenly feeling awfully listless while in-between steps.

Things felt like they were moving too slowly, and she wasn’t sure
she liked it.

### ***CHAPTER 20: INFILTRATION***

Things were totally moving too quickly – but that was fine by
Aaron. It was more than fine, really, it was ideal. In some ways, speed was of
the essence.

He had stopped back by home with Rose and Shadow for a quick
wardrobe change. There were two main reasons for that: one, he wanted to wear
clothes that were at least moderately stealthy/identity obscuring, and two, if
he was going to save the day, he had to look good while he was doing it. As
such, he’d put on a white hoodie and some other paler clothes (because if the
place was as sterile and as hospital-esque as Rose seemed to have described,
then maybe that’d help him blend in with the environment a little), while also
using a pair of ski goggles that he had lying around to hide his eyes. It was
very slapdash, but hey, speed was good.

Rose had also changed, but just for the sake of wearing clean
clothes (he’d let her borrow some of Plue’s). Looking at her, still wearing the
red hoodie, it was obvious that she hadn’t given the same thought to stealth
that he had, but ah well. He’d burn that bridge when he got to it.

Once that was settled, he’d had Rose give him directions running
through the city as she led him back to “the place” (dramatic jazz hands could
be inserted here) that she’d escaped from. She had a remarkable memory and
sense of direction, and for the most part, sounded confident – well, not *literally*
confident, but confident in the sense that she was at least sure of what she
was technically doing, regardless of how much she actually wanted to be doing
it – in where she went. A couple of times, she would go one way and Shadow
would go another, and then she’d change her route, so it wasn’t perfect,
obviously – Aaron had thanked Shadow for filling in the gaps, but he hadn’t
responded. Not that he’d expected him to.

Rose’s (and Shadow’s) directions had eventually led Aaron to an
abandoned-looking building on the city’s outskirts, after a couple of hours of
walking and an awkward bus journey or two. There were hazard lines strung up
around the outside of the building, and construction tools and equipment strewn
around the place. Assembly sigils adorned the equipment.

“So, it’s here?” Aaron asked out loud, in leigh of any other
conversation. His gaze drifted over the scene. “Because, like, how would they
even keep something hidden *here*? This is an Assembly construction
ground- oh.” The sentence ended as he realised that yes, this looked to be an
area under the Assembly faction’s jurisdiction, but Rose had already implicated
Doctor Overbuild in being involved with whatever this awful place was. As in,
Doctor Overbuild, the leader of the Assembly Faction.

“Right.” Coughed Aaron. “*That* makes sense, then. But, uh, you
said we were looking for someplace that was sterile, like a hospital.” He
gestured to the dust around them with an air of dismissal, before dropping his
arm when he realised that he was making himself look like a bit of a dickhead.
“It doesn’t look… that… sterile.” He finished with uncertainty.

“…It’s hidden.” Rose said, in a small voice. Aaron decided that
the best thing to do was to shut up and not be any more critical. Instead, he
watched and waited as Rose tip-toed past the hazard lines and tape in what was
possibly the most unenthusiastic violation of health and safety regulations
he’d seen in his life.

Aaron glanced over at Shadow, who was watching the proceedings
expressionless-ly. Well, he didn’t really have a face, so expressions were a
bit much, but still! He wasn’t giving any indication that he was feeling a
certain way, one way or another.

Anyway, Aaron glanced over at him.

“Do you think we’re in over our heads?” He asked, discreetly.
Shadow made no indication that he’d heard him, but hell, Aaron needed a quick
moment to vent, and it wasn’t like the guy was trying to get him to stop
either. “I mean,” he continued with a quick lick of his lips, “I’m all for
busting this thing wide open, and I think we need to do it either way. But,
like, it’s the three of us-” Here, he paused for consideration. That wasn’t *entirely*
true anymore. “Well, I guess four of us, but we don’t know what Plue’s doing,
and…” He cut himself off; he’d been about to say that Plue wouldn’t “be much
help”, but that was technically incorrect. Even if Aaron *wasn’t* totally
in love with her, he’d still know her as a competent leader and strategist. It
was just… “…and we can’t necessarily count on her help, in terms of all this.”
He gestured to where Rose was still wandering around the site – seemingly
aimless. “Like, this is almost definitely illegal. And she isn’t really a fan
of that. So, like, three of us against a conspiracy that’s… we don’t know HOW
big it is. Potentially there’s Doctor Overbuild involved. I don’t know if…” He
trailed off again, this time skipping a beat as he realised that he’d been a
huge idiot. “You know, in hindsight, if we wanted to be *sure* that it was
Doctor Overbuild, and not a guy who just coincidentally looked like him, we
should have just shown Rose a picture.” Aaron dragged his hand down his face in
exasperation at his own short-sightedness. “Great.”

Shadow nodded.

Aaron was pulled out of his self-deprecation by the sight of Rose
waving at him. He jogged over.

“I think I’ve found it.” She said, breathlessly.

“Neato.” Aaron gave her a thumbs-up. She stared blankly at him. He
cleared his throat, thrown off his rhythm by her blank stare and also her
general lack of reaction. “Um, how do we get in?” He asked after a moment’s
hesitation; trying to play the part of the fearless leader-stroke-hero that he
was trying really quite hard to be.

Instead of replying, Rose pulled away a segment of wood to reveal
a trapdoor.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Aaron said out loud, as Rose opened
the door. “Are you- this is so sketchy! And suspicious! Like how have people
not caught on to the fact that there’s a secret evil place here?”

“No-one comes here.” Responded Rose, blankly. Reaching out with a
tentative hand – shaking and leaning away in the same way that a child scared
to pet a dog reaches out – she grabbed the handle of the trapdoor and pulled,
opening it and revealing a completely unlit tunnel. It was just the first few
rungs of a ladder, and then nothing.

“That’s not foreboding at all.” Aaron grumbled, even as he stepped
forward to examine it. It was… well, it was a hole, alright. It was pitch
black, and he couldn’t see how far down it went. “So, uh, in we go?”

Rose wordlessly nodded. Aaron clapped his hands before placing
them on his hips, waiting in eager anticipation for Rose to take the plunge.

Only, she didn’t take the plunge. Instead, she stood by the
trapdoor and kept picking at the wrist of her hoodie, and didn’t do a whole lot
else beside flick her gaze between the entryway and him. Silent. Nervous. The
message was clear: *you first*.

Aaron stepped forward and peered into the blackness once again.
Well, he couldn’t exactly blame her for being tentative.

“Alright then.” He muttered, mostly to himself. “Ladies first and
gentlemen just before, I guess.”

With that, he took a deep breath, and descended down the ladder,
into the unknown.

The air was hot. Stiflingly so. Whoever had built this place (“*Overbuild*”,
the voice in his head reminded him) had apparently not bothered with aircon,
which made things pretty nasty. After several rungs, his feet hit the ground
and he let go of the ladder to get his bearings. There was no sign of life or
light anywhere, except for the opening above him. He looked up to see both Rose
and Shadow peering down at him.

“Come on down!” He waved at them.

A moment passed – then, Rose stepped forward and began to descend
the ladder. Hastily, he trotted to the side to make room, before tapping his
foot as she climbed down the ladder. As she arrived at the bottom along with
him, the light coming from the top vanished and a metal clang rang out. Rose
shrieked. Shadow appeared from nowhere, and Aaron leapt out of his skin at the
sight of the figure suddenly standing there. (Well, *sight* was a strong
word. He could make out the dude’s eyes, but not much else.)

“Shadow!” He gasped, clenching his chest. “You pillock, you scared
me!”

Shadow, as expected, didn’t reply.

Changing tack, Aaron indicated up at where he figured the entrance
hatch was, before realising that if he couldn’t even see himself (because
seriously, it was friggin’ pitch black now), then Shadow probably couldn’t see
him, and instead used his words. “The entrance.” He said. “It was you who shut
it, right?”

Shadow’s luminous eyes moved slightly – was he moving his head?

“Er… was that a nod?” Aaron asked. “Sorry, bud. I can’t tell. I- *oh*.”
This last part was because Aaron had just realised that he was being an idiot.
In a flash, he’d manifested a fire in the palm of his hand. It wasn’t a
substitute for an actual lightbulb in the ceiling or anything, but it was
enough to let him see both Shadow and Rose. The new visibility helped him see
that yes, Shadow was nodding. Nice.

“Ok. Good. We’ve got our tracks covered.” Aaron said. With that
little issue sorted, he turned back to Rose. “So, uh… lead the way?”

Rose gulped, but nodded before turning around and beginning to
march in the other direction so quickly that Aaron almost tripped over his own
feet as he hurried to stay by her side. She walked determinedly and
haphazardly. Aaron was tempted to say something, but stopped. This was
obviously all pretty uncomfortable for her, which was a given considering that
she was apparently stuck here before. It was probably best for him to not put
his foot in his mouth and just let her get on with leading.

After maybe a minute, Rose reached out and pressed against something
in front of her. A wall? Aaron, fire in hand (which was still kind of a surreal
concept, but honestly, by this point, he was just compartmentalizing), leaned
closer. Nope, it wasn’t a wall – it was a door. Nifty.

Rose pushed the door open, and let in a brilliant white light that
had Aaron blinking hard and turning his head so that he wasn’t directly staring
into it.

“Ah, shit.” He muttered out loud. Extinguishing the fire, he
stepped up to Rose’s side. She had her eyes practically clenched shut. “That’s
bright.” He added, redundantly, before thumbing his hand over his shoulder.
“What was back there, anyway?”

“It was… it was an escape tunnel.” Rose explained.

“Oh.” Said Aaron, dumbly. What had he been expecting, really?
“Well… that… makes sense.”

Rose nodded, wordlessly, still blinking in the light.

After a moment, Aaron turned back towards the light and let his
pupils adjust to the brightness.

Part of the problem was that it wasn’t just the light – the
corridor that they were entering into was, as Rose had described, very
sterile-looking. That meant pristine white tiles, blindingly well-cleaned and
reflective.

“Okay, who cleans this place, because whatever they’re getting
paid, it’s not *nearly* enough.” Aaron said under his breath before
stepping forward. At least, he *would* have stepped forward were it not
for Rose grabbing the back of his hoodie and using a surprising amount of force
to yank him away from the doorway as soon as he made like he was about to walk
forwards.

“Ow!” Though it didn’t really hurt, he still rubbed his back and
glared at Rose accusingly. She shrivelled under his gaze – he regretted it
immediately.

“There’s…” Rose began, trailing off and eying the floor. Aaron
stared at her for a moment, not getting it – but then it hit him.

“Oh, wait, security!” He asked. “Wait, there’s – no, obviously
there *is* security, but what… oh…” He facepalmed. How had he forgotten
that security cameras existed? “So, there are security cameras out there, huh?”

Rose nodded.

Aaron stroked his chin, contemplatively. “Okay, well that’s an
issue.” He admitted. “We kind of need to get past that…”

After staring up at the ceiling for a couple of seconds, he made
to look back around at Rose – only, he couldn’t see her. He turned around.
There was still no sign of her.

“Rose?” He called, as loudly as he dared. “Rose-” Then, he looked
down and realised something else. He couldn’t see *himself*.

“Ah!” He jumped a little, and flexed his fingers. He could still *feel*
himself – feel his hand moving, feel the rise and fall of his chest – but
visually, he’d completely vanished. “What the hell…?”

“This is my power.” Came a voice from somewhere around him. A bit
of guesswork later, and he realised that it was Rose! (Well, *guesswork*.
He’d recognised her voice.)

Truly genius.

“Rose – did you do this?” He asked. Stupid question. He waited for
that one to sink in a little, and then managed a slightly more logical: “How?”

“It’s my power.” She said, again. (Which was fair, he really
should have registered that the first time.) “It’s the… it’s what I can do.”

“What, you can make people invisible, too?” He asked, still trying
to wrap his head around the whole thing. (Because kkay, yeah, he’d already seen
her make illusions with the whole “maelstrom in the street” thing, but this was
a whole new layer of trippy.) And also figure out where his hands were.

“I can make things look like other things.” Came Rose’s voice. “I
can make things seem like they’re there when they actually aren’t. I can make
them *feel* like it. And I can make it look like things aren’t there at
all, when actually…” She trailed off there, but honestly? Aaron got the gist.

“They are.” He finished. Honestly, the whole description gave him
the impression that she was working through a lot of stuff, and he felt for
her, but *desafortunadamente*, now wasn’t the time. “It’s okay, I get it.
Illusions and all that. My question is: will they be enough to fool a camera?”

“What?” Asked Rose.

“A camera.” He said. “Because okay, it looks to us like we’re
seeing – I mean, *not* seeing – something, but will it look the same to
technology? Is that how that… works?”

“It isn’t.” Said Rose. “I don’t- I mean, I make things look and
feel real. It’s not like it’s in people’s minds.”

“But, that just sounds like you’re creating things.” Aaron argued.
“That’s not illusions at all.”

“It is!” Hissed Rose.

From a meta perspective, Aaron’s situation was absurd – hiding in
the escape tunnel of a secret underground facility, arguing with a girl over
the semantics of creating illusions? Yeah, he’d partaken in his fair share
of shenanigans back in the day, but this was definitely one of the wilder ones.

Why did he care, anyway?

“I just feel like that’s an important distinction to make!” He
muttered, agitated. “If the whole point of this is to fool cameras-!”

“It will work!” Rose protested. “It has before!”

“Oh- wait, really?” Aaron blinked, although he reminded himself a
moment later that if he was invisible, there was no way Rose could see it
anyway. “It’s worked before.”

“Yes.” Said Rose. There was a moment of silence, and then she
added: “I’m nodding.”

“Okay.” Breathed Aaron, running a hand through his hair. “Okay,
right. I’m just going to- to compartmentalise that. We can talk about that
later.”

“Yes.” Rose agreed. “Can we…?”

“Yeah, okay, cool, let’s get going.” Aaron stepped out into the
light before he could stop himself, and had a proper look around at the place. It
was… well, now that he could really see it, he had to say that his first
impressions appeared to have been pretty spot-on. Like, there wasn’t much more
to it then blank white corridors and overhead lighting that felt like it was
trying to bore its way into Aaron’s skull through his eye sockets.

At least there was air conditioning.

“Rose?” He whispered. He felt something poke his arm.

“Here.” She murmured quietly.

“Okay.” He whispered back. “Where are we going first?”

Instead of replying, he felt a tug on his arm.

“Got it.” He whispered, before turning and going in the direction
that Rose was trying to pull him. He could feel her hand still latched on to
his arm, and he wasn’t sure if it was her genuinely trying to lead him, or just
her being nervous, but he was grateful all the same. Truth be told, the
specifics of trying to communicate with someone while both of you were trying
to sneak around – and were also invisible – seemed, now that he was actually
doing it, quite complicated. So, he was glad that he had at least *some*
indication of what was going on.

Rounding a corner, Aaron saw that now, instead of just a blank
hallway, there was a hallway *and* there were doors leading off from it!
Huzzah for change of scenery. He tried to read the tags on the door as Rose
dragged him past – he caught a few scattered words, such as “office” and “lab”,
as well as the occasional number, but nothing that could be said to actually
mean anything to him.

“Rose.” He ventured. “Normally, when we’re busting a place wide
open, what we’re looking for are, uh, I guess incriminating stuff and supports
are argument.” He scratched his chin. “I mean, I think so, anyway. I’ve never
really busted a place wide open before. But, um, my point is, shouldn’t we stop
and check through these rooms? What if-”

He cut himself off just as Rose stopped dead – walking the
hallways was a man in a lab coat, reading furiously through a set of papers he
had in his hand, flicking through pages at an almost absurd rate. (If he really
*was* reading them, he was the fastest reader Aaron had ever seen aside
from maybe Plue.) For a moment, Aaron panicked, thinking that they were about
to be caught and interrogated to death, but Rose’s illusions were still in
effect, and the scientist man walked right past them without even batting an
eye. Admittedly, he did run his tongue over his lips, but that wasn’t because
of them. That was just a general tic that people did sometimes.

Immediately, Rose began to move again; Aaron could feel her
pulling on his sleeve, and almost stumbled as he hurried to keep up. He waited
until the scientist man was out of earshot, and then waited a couple of seconds
longer, and then spoke up again.

“Rose.” He said with a little more insistence. “Where are we *going*?”
From Aaron’s perspective, Rose seemed to have gone all bull-headed, suddenly
taking charge. And hey, this *had* been what Aaron had bene hoping for,
but it seemed a far cry from the timid personality that Rose had had on show
basically the whole time thus far. Then again, he reasoned, there was no
accounting for, like, anxiety and distress and trauma. He wasn’t gonna judge.

Rose didn’t reply, which was somewhat concerning. Deciding that
making a scene was probably an overwhelmingly bad idea, he settled for letting
Rose pull him along, trying to keep track of where everything was in this damn
facility. It all looked the same – really it began to blur together after a
while. There’d occasionally be the odd scientist roaming the halls, either
alone or in a group – there were also, he noticed after a little while, a
decent amount of what looked like security robots manning various points in the
base. Created by the Assembly Faction, the drones were essentially used as
walking sentries throughout the Nimbus System – it made sense, then, that
they’d have some here. Around seven feet tall each, with a blaster mounted to
one arm, they were imposing enough already. And that was coming from someone
who was used to fighting alongside them!

“Rose.” Aaron whispered as soon as they ended up somewhere where
there were no people or machines to overhear them. “Where. Are. We. Going?” He
didn’t want to be insistent, but at the same time, his anxiety was beginning to
peak. It was clear that Rose had her own plan and agenda, and while he was open
to the idea of compromise, he wasn’t going to stand for being dragged around
this base willy-nilly any further.

“I owe someone.” Replied Rose.

“Ooooo*ooooo*h.” Droned Aaron, remembering in a flash what
Rose had told him about earlier. (Well, she hadn’t *told* him in any real
detail, but she’d at least mentioned it in passing.) “Okay. Valid. So, when you
say you owe someone… what, uh, exactly are you planning to do?”

Rose didn’t say anything for a while. No, not just for a couple of
moments. She remained silent for at least another minute before saying:

“Free him.”

### **CHAPTER 21: MEANWHILE, IN THE OFFICE…**

By the time Vector and Dilip and the Maintenance Worker all
returned to her office (bumping into one another outside her door and stumbling
in as a unit), Plue had finished going through those expenditure reports, had
quickly stuck her head outside her office to make sure that nobody had been
lurking outside, had spun around in her chair for long enough to make herself
feel sick, and nervous-written a page’s worth of story notes.

“Good, you’re all here.” She said. Then, before she could forget,
she turned to the maintenance worker. “And your name is…?”

They blinked. “Sunday.”

“Sunday. Great.” Plue nodded – mentally repeating the name to
herself, *SundaySundaySUNDAY* – and, not sure what else to do all of a
sudden, ran her tongue over the inside of her mouth. “You have the form?” She
asked.

“Right here.” Sunday waved the sheet around.

“Great. Vector?” Taking the form from Sunday, she then passed it
to him. He quickly scanned her desk, and then lunged over-eagerly at her
pen-pot. The resulting collision saw pens scatter and roll off the side of the
desk, with one offender eagerly shooting across the room as though it had been
shot from a gun. How exactly that had happened, Plue wasn’t sure.

“Er… sorry.” Vector grinned, and then gingerly shuffled off to the
side to begin picking up all of the pens. Rolling her eyes at the antics, Plue
turned to Dilip, who was watching the whole situation with all the emotion of a
doll. How was he so good at being stoic?

“Any issues arise?” She asked. He shook his head, solemnly.

“No problems.” He reported. That discerned, Plue then focused her
attention on Sunday, who blinked rapidly and stood up a little taller in front
of her desk.

“And your secrecy is sworn?” She asked.

“I- yes, ma’am!” Sunday said. “I promise, I won’t tell a soul.”

“Thank you.” Plue said, as Vector came back over to them, righting
the pot with one hand while dumping a handful of pens into it with the other.
She fixed him with her best withering gaze. “Vector, I’d appreciate less
theatrics in future.” She told him. Then, suddenly afraid she was overstepping
her boundaries, she tried to course-correct and make herself sound like less of
an ass. “If only because this is a sensitive situation, and I just… I don’t
know if I really want to deal with this right now.”

Vector snorted. “Easy there with the whole hard-ass act. You’re
not my boss yet.” Despite his words, however, his expression was apologetic as
he picked up a pen and finally scribbled a signature on the form that Plue had
let lie on the desk. Once he finished writing, she picked it up and looked it
over. The signature was a blocky scrawl, all of the letters attached together
by a connecting string of ink. Like a kite with lots of those bits on the
string.

Plue allowed herself a satisfied sigh. It was blocky, but it’d do.
With that permission, she could now snoop in Overbuild’s files with no fear of
retribution.

“Okay, Sunday.” She beckoned them with a finger, and they hastened
around the desk, practically jogging as they took a place beside her. Plue
pulled up the Faction Leader files. “Do you know the permissions? Can you get
us in?”

“Not straight away.” Sunday said. “We have to order a handover,
see? You’re going to have to get in touch with the rest of maintenance and
order them to give you, basically, the hard copies of those files so that we
can go through them.”

“Right, yes.” Plue remembered now. “Okay. Would it be a realistic
request that you look through it all yourself?”

Sunday nodded. “We’re all trained for file clear-out. The odd bit
would be me working on the files of a faction leader, considering my rank,
but-”

“What *is* your rank, anyway?” Vector interjected, pushing
himself off the wall he’d been leaning on as he drew himself back into the
conversation. Plue, who knew him decently well, recognised that he was
basically just trying to be amiable and start a conversation. However, his
furrowed brows and imposing posture (the guy always posed either like he was
modelling or like he was about to punch someone’s lights out, and right now it
was the latter) made it sound like he was initiating some kind of interrogation.

Sunday, to their credit, didn’t freak out or anything. Instead,
they rubbed the back of their head, awkwardly. “I- it’s- maintenance crew,
level delta. Basically, nothing special.”

“That’s probably too harsh.” Plue felt obligated to say. “Even if
your rank doesn’t mean a lot in terms of authority, you, um, shouldn’t discount
the work you do, you know?” It was awkward, slightly rank sentiment from
someone who didn’t really know what the job even entailed – but Sunday seemed
to brighten at the praise anyway.

“T- Thank you, ma’am.” They said, a small smile gracing their lips
for a moment before fading away as they focused back on the task at hand.
“Anyway, like I was saying, it’ll probably be seen as at least *slightly*
weird that I’m going through the files of a faction leader, considering I’m
nobody important, but now that we have permission from a faction leader,” they
glanced purposefully at Vector, who nodded, “that shouldn’t be an issue. Or, at
least, it shouldn’t arouse suspicion. Which is what you want, right?”

“That’s what we want.” Confirmed Plue.

“Right.” Sunday nodded. “Okay, so, you need to send out the
request.”

“Okay.” Plue opened a new browser, and in a few moments, was
greeted with an empty email. “Tell me what to say.”

### **CHAPTER 22: THE DEBT IS REPAID**

After Rose’s rather dramatic declaration, Aaron had to admit that
he was… conflicted, to say the least. On the one hand, he was all for freeing
people from imprisonment (and hey, this place didn’t look all that nice
anyway). AND he could appreciate wanting to keep a debt, and like,,, feeling
like you owed a person. But on the other hand, he was here for very specific
reason. Would freeing this guy Rose apparently owed help with busting this
whole thing wide open (as he’d repeatedly emphasised as his goal).

“So, uh, Rose.” He murmured – well, it wasn’t necessarily a murmur
so much as it was only slightly quieter than regular speech, but whatever,
semantics – as they ran, invisibly, down the corridors of the facility. (Was
“invisibly” a word? He pondered that one for half a moment before his brain
reminded him that now was really not the time, genius. Which was fair.) “Who is this
person, anyway? This, uh, guy who you apparently owe. Because this wasn’t
exactly what I had planned, and while I appreciate that you’re a separate
person to me with your own thoughts and wants…” He trailed off.

What does that matter? Part of him asked. Why are you
worrying about what she thinks right now? Isn’t the whole point of this to put
a stop to whatever Overbuild’s doing? Stop being a martyr and a div, don’t
deviate, get done what you came here to do. But the rest of him wasn’t so keen on
the idea. After all, Rose had come to him when she hadn’t had to, when she’d
had no-one to trust aside from Shadow, when she’d been searching for a way to
safely tell someone what had happened to her and was *apparently* still
happening to other people. She had expectations! And, like, hope that he’d help
her! Surely, he’d be letting her down if he refused to help her outright. (Not
to mention, from a pragmatic standpoint, it could be mutually beneficial!
Scratch-each-other’s-backs type situation. In any case, it was no reason to
decline her.)

But it WAS a reason to be cautious. At least.

Right. Yeah. That was fair.

Moral quandary over and done with (and that was good, really,
because he’d never been the biggest fan of those), he resumed his questioning.
“But,” he said, “just as you have your own thoughts and wants, so do I. And
we’re both in here. You want me to help you, and that’s fine, but can you just-
can you at least tell me exactly what’s happening?”

“When we get there.” Rose replied. “When we find him.” Her voice
sounded very firm compared to earlier, and it was jarring enough to give Aaron
the willies. It felt like her demeanour had completely changed. He wasn’t
judging – more power to her – but it was a bit odd, to say the least.

“Okay.” He managed.

What followed was minute after metaphorically-nail-biting minute
(he didn’t have the time to actually bite his nails) of creeping/running around
this facility, suppressing his breathing and moving subtly to the side whenever
a scientist or security drone walked past, and having a mini heart attack every
time he saw something move out of the corner of his eye. Rose’s illusion seemed
to hold up, and nothing actually saw them or raised the alarm or anything, but
it still sent a shiver of worry down Aaron’s spine. Was there a limit to what
Rose could do? Would her power only last for a certain time? What if something
went wrong, what if anything happened?

The feeling reminded him of the anxiety that came with leading in
the field – which, unlikely as it was, he’d done before. One time, when two
commanding officers had began countermanding each other in the field (which led
to the squad that he and Will had been in being pinned down and picked off one
by one), he’d had to step up and help get things back under control, working
alongside the officer he’d found slightly less intolerable to help get everyone
out of there. Those hours had been possibly the most anxiety-ridden of his life
– that responsibility, that knowledge he’d had that he’d had not only his life
at stake, but also the lives of the people he was helping to command. Though he
wasn’t really in CHARGE of Rose or Shadow, he was feeling that pressure again
now. If he cocked up here, not only would *he* possibly bite it, but Rose,
Shadow, and all the people still in this facility – they might all suffer the
consequences.

The weight of that knowledge was pressurising, and slightly
crushing. But it also helped him to focus. Whatever this was, this wasn’t a
game or some kind of romp. Hell, it wasn’t even him trying his best to be a
vigilante, because at least there, he was only *really* endangering
himself (yeah, there were the bystanders, but the point was that they were
already in danger, there). These were real stakes, this was a real situation
and a real threat, and he had to get his shit together.

That being decided, he followed Rose without dissent, letting her
guide him through the physical contact of her still holding his wrist (which
was starting to feel a bit crushed by this point, but hey, everyone made
sacrifices). The rooms and lights and hallways and pure white tiles with grey
rims all blurred together in a slightly hypnotic, slightly hideous, mostly
boring wave of desaturation.

Eventually, Rose came to a stop so suddenly that Aaron didn’t
quite stop speed-walking in time, and crashed into her. Something fluffy
whacked into his face, and he twigged that that was probably Rose’s hair, which
in turn had to mean that she’d just turned around.

“Sorry.” He muttered. “I didn’t see you.”

“I- it’s okay.” Rose said, sounding a lot more like how she had
most of the time.

“What is it?” Aaron asked.

“We’re here.” She responded. Looking up at the door they were
right outside, Aaron couldn’t really see anything that made it stand out from
any of the other doors in the facility. It was metal, sliding upwards (high
security, he duly noted – if someone were to stop that door from opening when a
person was in the room, they’d be totally stuck inside), no patterns or
anything on the front. He didn’t think much of it, if he was being honest –
he’d at least given the door a fun bright colour, or something. And maybe a
shape other than a rectangle, like a hexagon or something. Hexagons were just a
cooler aesthetic.

“How, uh, how do you know we’re here?” He ventured.

“I mean, I… I don’t, not for sure.” Rose admitted. “But I really *think*-
I mean, I think this is where we’re supposed to be.”

Aaron examined the door again. He realised, with a jolt of
embarrassment, that he’d scanned it too quickly and moved on to critiquing its
design with too much haste. Printed, or scanned, or *something* above the door was the word “live assets”.

“Oh, that’s just fucking ominous.” He groaned.

“We need to get in there!” Hissed Rose, sounding slightly
panick-y.

“Okay, and how do we do that?” Slipping out of Rose’s grip, Aaron
walked up to the door and stood in front of it. It opened.

“…Huh.” He said, bemused. “Honestly I’d figured that if we were
invisible, it wouldn’t let us in… like a motion sensor or something.”

“But, um, if it’s a motion sensor, why would it need to see us to
open?” Rose asked. Aaron pursed his lips.

“Okay.” He admitted. “Point taken. I am an idiot.”

“I didn’t say that!” Gasped Rose. Aaron could imagine her flailing
her arms in denial. (Plue would sometimes do the same thing, and *whoops*,
now he missed her.) “Oh no, did I make you feel like I thought you were an
idiot? I’m sorry, I don’t, that was just-”

“Rose, it’s okay.” Aaron assured her, fumbling blindly until he
felt her wrist and grabbing it back. “That was just me being self-deprecating, nothing
to worry about.”

“…Okay.” Came Rose’s voice.

“Now,” said Aaron with more confidence then he was feeling, “let’s
go and rescue your friend!”

With, he pulled Rose with him as he marched into the room, with
all the confidence of a blind man right at the edge of a pier.

Inside, there was, at first, darkness. But then, the lights (that
were presumably motion-sensor as well) flickered on. After having a look
around, Aaron could say that he almost wished they hadn’t.

The room seemed normal at first. Well, maybe not normal, but at
least normal from a sciency perspective, with some control panels and some big
tubes. But when you looked closer, things got a whole less normal and a whole
lot more mad sciencey/less ethical with the revelation that there were *people*
in the tubes. Most of the tubes were made up of metal, and there wasn’t a whole
lot to see – but there was a glass section near the top that was just the view
Aaron needed to confirm that yes, at least in those first two tubes, there were
human beings.

“Ooh, that’s questionable.” Muttered Aaron – which was an
understatement. He could feel his body pull away slightly from what he was
seeing, like he didn’t agree with it on a fundamental level. And, to be fair,
he couldn’t say that he really did. It looked like the people were locked up,
and though he supposed it’d be alright if they’d agreed to be in here, context
and the situation’s general vibes told him that that would not be the case.

What exactly he would have done next, he wasn’t quite sure, but he
ended up getting distracted by the realisation that hang on a minute, he was
visible again. When had that happened? Not that he was unhappy to see his
handsome self again, and it sure did help with hand-eye co-ordination to be
able to actually see his hands, but when…?

His question was answered when Rose stumbled over to the first
pod. “It’s him!” She breathed, like she was scared to really say it out loud.
“He’s here.”

“The guy you owe?” Aaron walked over and peered over the top of
her head at the face visible within the tube. (Well, perhaps it was really more
of a “pod”, but like. Semantics.). There wasn’t much of note about the guy – he
had a fairly young face, and slightly scruffy ginger hair. His eyes were closed
– he looked like he was sleeping.

“How… how do we get him out?” Rose asked, beginning to look around
the pod, presumably for a button to open it, or something along those lines.

“Before that.” Aaron interjected. “Rose, when did you stop the
illusion?”

“The illu…?” Rose trailed off, looked at her hands, and then
squeaked. “Oh no! Oh, that was an accident!”

“It’s okay, it’s okay!” Aaron tried to assure her. “I think it
only went off after we already came in here, so as long as nobody, like, comes
in this room, we’re good! I was just wondering because you didn’t say
anything.”

Rose breathed out heavily. She was shaking, Aaron noticed, and his
heart went out to her.

“Okay.” She said. So… we need to make sure the door doesn’t open?”

“I’ll check and see if there’s a lock.” Aaron assured her. “If
not, then…” he paused. What *would*
they do? After dithering for a moment, he decided: “We can cross that bridge
when we come to it.”

He turned around to check the door, and
yelped at what he saw. Shadow was standing right behind him, completely silent.

“Shadow, oh my giddy aunt.” He placed a
hand on his chest, feeling his heart pounding from the surprise. “I had *no* idea you
were there. I’m so sorry. You were with us the whole time?”

“I put an illusion on him as well.”
Rose said. “He’s been with us!”

Well, it wasn’t like that didn’t make
sense. Aaron, for his part, just felt bad that he hadn’t asked about it once.
Sure, maybe he *was* stressed, but he should have at least checked! What kind of
leader-slash-helper-slash hero was he?

“Sorry for not checking up on you,
Shadow.” He apologized as he made his way past Shadow to check on the door –
which opened as soon as he got too close. Right. Motion-sensor.

“Shoot.” Aaron stepped back and let it
close again, before turning to Rose. “Uh, I think our best course of action is
to just not walk too close to it, and make sure it stays close.” He informed
her. Rose turned to him with a slightly desperate question in her eyes.

“And if someone comes in?” She asked,
her tone slightly shrill. “What do we do if someone comes in while we’re here?
They’re either raise the alarm, or they’ll try and capture us, or they’ll-
they’ll-” Overcome by the possibilities, she seemed to wilt where she stood,
leaning against the pod with the man in it and slowly sliding to the floor,
where she proceeded to sit in a sad little heap.

“Hoo boy.” Muttered Aaron, before
walking back over and crouching down next to her. “We’ll, uh… we’ll improvise.”
He declared, trying his best to sound comforting. “Hey, come on. They haven’t
caught us yet, right?”

“R- right.” Rose sniffed.

“Ok.” Aaron smiled, and patted her
shoulder before standing up. “Shadow – if it’s okay with you, can you please
stand guard? Just while we get this all sorted out.”

Thankfully, Shadow seemed okay with the
idea. He nodded, and then turned around and stared at the door. While Aaron,
personally, had no idea what Shadow was supposed to do if someone came in the
door – he was made of fire, which almost definitely counted for something, but
did he have fighting and restraining capabilities? – he figured that, yeah,
they’d improvise that as well, and so turned his back on Shadow in favour of
offering Rose a helping hand, hauling her up off the floor.

“Let’s not panic *yet*.” He
reasoned as she ran her fingers anxiously through her hair. “Right?”

“Right.” Said Rose, softly.

“Right.” Affirmed Aaron, slightly
redundantly. “Okay, so…” He turned back to the pod. “As you were saying before
I so rudely interrupted, how do we get him out?”

Rose peered at the pod with trepidation
– as though she was worried about it leaping up and going on the attack. “I…”
She began, but it was clear that on this one, she was as lost as Aaron was. Ah,
well, they could figure it out! Probably.

“We can figure it out!” He said out
loud. Approaching the tube, he saw a few different buttons on the side. “Right,
well, one of these might open the thing?” He suggested, pointer finger
beginning to hover over the buttons almost on its own. “Maybe we should just
use trial and error.”

“No, don’t!” Rose protested. “We don’t
know what they all do? What if it does something bad?” She gasped. “W- What if
it kills him?”

“I mean, I’d ask why they’d have that
function built in, first of all.” Aaron muttered. A [kill] button would
basically just be cartoonishly evil – not that whoever had set this place up
weren’t already some form of evil, but, like… that’d definitely be taking it to
another level.

Rose glared at him.

“Okay, so trial-and-error ain’t
happening.” Aaron hastened. “Um…” He looked at the buttons again.
Unfortunately, there were no convenient labels or diagrams. There were about
half a dozen of them, and he had no idea what any of them did. How could there
even be, he wondered to himself, that many features? It looked to him like it
was just a tube that held people. Why would it have all those other options?
What was it, a multitool?

Maybe the answer lay in violence. Or, at least, something more fundamental? (But also violent.)

“Well, what if we just pull the door
off?” He asked. “Maybe that’d work.”

Rose blanched. “We can’t just do that?”

“Why not?” Asked Aaron, feeling a
twinge of irritation. “Look, Rose, I want to help, here. Do you have any better
ideas?”

“Well, I…” Rose pressed her fingers
together in shame. “…No.” She eventually whispered in a small voice.

“Okay. So just pulling it apart it is.”
Aaron decreed. He glanced over at Rose. She still didn’t look happy. He sighed,
and placed what he hoped was a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Hey,” he said,
“I’ll try and be careful, alright? This is gonna be controlled destruction, I’m
not just destroying shit for the hell of it.” He tried for a winning smile.
“Promise.”

Rose managed to meet his gaze for,
like, half a second before turning her face away.

“Okay.” She said in a small voice.

“Thanks. I promise, you won’t regret
this.” He continued to try and reassure her, even as he stepped up to the front
of the tube. Took another look at the guy inside.

*Okay, pal*, he thought to himself, *we’re*
gonna get you out of here*.*

Curling his hands, he reached out
before pausing. None of his abilities (at least, the ones he’d discovered so
far) really gave him brute strength or anything like that, did they? He hadn’t
thought this through at *all*, good lord. How was he supposed to remove the door?

Use the webs, idiot, the voice in his head reminded him, and okay, that was actually a
decent idea. Thanks, brain.

Letting the webs materialize and shoot
from his hands, Aaron stuck them to either side of the front of the tube (and
he knew it was a door, and not just part of the tube’s wall itself he was
pulling, because he was actually observant and had seen the grooves in the
thing), dug his feet in as much as he could considering he was standing on a
tiled floor (which, admittedly, wasn’t very much at all, but it was the effort
that counted there), and *pulled*. Almost immediately, his arms began to ache and the sound of taunt
webbing filled the air as he did his best to pull.

For a good few seconds, nothing
happened, and Aaron began to worry that he was accomplishing nothing more than
making an idiot out of himself. But then there was a quiet metal screech, which
he could only assume was coming from the tube. A sign of success! Buoyed, he
kept at it as the door-esque front bit of the tube began to creak louder and
louder. It was just as he considered that there was the possibility that the
door would come sailing right towards him with how hard he was pulling, that it
actually buckled once too many times, unceremoniously detached itself from the
front of the pod, and… fell onto the floor, skidding a bit but not really
getting anywhere near him. Relief and disappointment mingled.

“Jacen!” Rose shouted as the pod
hissed, and the pod’s occupant began to collapse to the floor. Running over and
catching the occupant before he hit the floor, she eased him onto the tiles.
Aaron meandered over.

“Is… he okay?” He asked, suddenly
feeling uncertain.

Rose placed her head on his chest. It
took a moment, but Aaron could see it rise and fall.

“He’s breathing.” Rose reported,
confirming it.

“Well, that’s something.” Aaron
muttered. Suddenly, he felt more conscious of what they were doing – now that
they weren’t caught up in the moment, and now that he wasn’t focusing on the
singular goal of getting the guy – what had Rose called him? Jas- Jason? – out
of the pod, he was beginning to think about how loud that door had been when it
had fallen on the floor, and that technically somebody could walk into the room
and spot them at any moment, and how-

As if summoned by his own negative
thoughts (a la “speak of the devil and he shall appear”), the door hissed open
and a man in a white coat walked through. He took about two steps into the room
and then stopped dead in his tracks, mouth dropping open in shock and amazement
as he took in Aaron, Rose, Shadow, and the body on the floor.

Aaron held out his hand – not really
sure what he was planning to do – but Shadow ended up taking point. In what
seemed like the blink of an eye, he lunged forward, pushing the man against the
wall and covering his mouth with one arm. The man choked, face reddening as he
struggled against Shadow’s grip.

“Hold on, hold on, wait!” Aaron hissed
as the door shut. “Shadow – wait.”

Shadow’s head slowly rotated as he
turned to stare at Aaron. Had his eyes always looked that damn intimidating?

“Don’t kill him.” Aaron said. “I mean,
if that’s what you were planning. As long as he doesn’t tell anyone were here-”
here, he shot a pointed glance at the man. He hoped the message was clear: *keep your mouth shut and just let us do what*
we want to do, and you’ll be okay*. He didn’t*
want to do anything nasty, and taking a hostage didn’t sit right with him at
all. But killing someone, even someone working in this reprehensible place, sat
even *less* right with
him. Maybe he was an optimist. Maybe he was just an idiot. But he just didn’t get the impression that it was really worth it, and
he liked to think that talking was technically always an option. Even if it
didn’t always go so well.

The man looked from Shadow to Aaron and
then back to Shadow. His expression (what Aaron could see of it, anyway) was
indiscernible. And then, in one quick move, he began to pull his arm and wrist
up to his head. On the wrist, Aaron caught sight of something small and…
electronic? Oh, oh, it was probably a communicator. Oh, nuts.

“Don’t-” Aaron called in warning,
holding up his hand, but it was too late. One moment, Shadow’s other arm (the
one that wasn’t pressed over the man’s mouth) was tense by his side. The next,
it was raised, and – elongated? No, no, it didn’t look like it was his arm at
all, it looked like he was holding a weapon made out of the same stuff that he
was made out of. It was raised, and then it was swinging, and then the man fell
to the ground without a sound. The weapon dematerialised in a shower of
jet-black embers.

Aaron let his hand drop, helplessly.
Rose looked from him to Shadow with a distressed facial expression. Shadow
slowly turned back towards them.

“Well.” Aaron managed to say in his
slightly shell-shocked state. “That’s… that’s one way to solve that problem.”

Nobody said anything else right after
him, and so he stood there in silence for a moment. That was- shoot. He was
really in it, wasn’t he?

*Okay,*
Aaron. Compartmentalize. A man is dead. That’s just the latest in terms of
what’s been happening. You can freak out over this later, *he tried to tell himself. He wasn’t sure if it was working. Aaron was*
no stranger to death – he’d been on the battlefield, after all, with the Nexus
Force, and he’d seen plenty of people die. Hell, his parents had died when he
was ten, and he knew he wasn’t forgetting THAT in a hurry. But as he looked at
the body, smoking from Shadow’s blow, Aaron couldn’t shake the feeling that
this death had been his fault. And even with the knowledge that this person had
almost definitely known what they were doing, and how unethical it had been,
and so probably wasn’t the best person ever, it didn’t sit well with him.

“Well, um. Thanks for that, Shadow, I
guess that’s effective.” He said, talking half in a stupor, just trying to fill
the silence. “Uh, wow, that’s a mood-killer and a half.” He rubbed the back of
his neck.

Mercifully, the guy who’d been in the
tube – Rose’s friend – chose that moment to stir, coughing roughly and twisting
onto his side on the floor. Aaron hurried to his side, welcoming the
distraction.

“Hey. Hey, are you alright?” He asked,
as the man kept coughing.

“Jacen!” Said Rose from his other side.
Turning around, the man blearily opened copper-brown eyes. Aaron could see him
blink several times as he slowly processed what he was seeing, slowly taking in
the room and the people at his side. He sounded like he was muttering something
to himself. He also sounded like he was vaguely disgusted was everything he was
seeing. Eventually, his gaze fixed on Rose.

“Well, I’ve seen less welcome sights.”
He breathed, now sounding not very disgusted at all. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Rose responded. She reached out
a hand.

“How long has it been?” He asked,
trying to sit up. The attempt, however, triggered another coughing fit, and he
was forced to lie back down. Aaron placed a hand on his shoulder, and for the
first time, the man’s attention was on him. “And, uh, who are you? If you don’t
mind me asking?” He added.

“The name’s Aaron.” Said Aaron, always
willing to make an acquaintance.

“It hasn’t been that long.” Rose added,
in response to the man’s first question. “A few days.”

“Days? Oh, wow.” The man coughed again.
“Feels like it’s been longer.”

Aaron didn’t have anything to say to
that, and neither, apparently, did Rose.

After a few more moments, the man tried
to sit up again. This time, Aaron placed a hand on his back to stabilize him
and help him up. After a few slightly agonizing seconds, he eventually managed
it, leaning forward and breathing heavily, as though he’d spent longer than
healthy holding his breath. (And hey, maybe he had been, Aaron didn’t know the
details of how these pods worked. Maybe the air had been stale?)

“So, um. What exactly is happening,
right now?” He asked, wincing as he moved, clearly stiff. “I mean, not that I’m
not glad to see you, Rose, but what are you doing back here?”

“We’re getting you out.” Responded Rose
with the same conviction that Aaron had noticed briefly in her voice earlier.
Inconsistency aside, Aaron felt obligated to interject.

“Well, I mean, that’s not our, like,
primary goal.” He admitted. The man turned to him. “Rose came to me for help,”
he explained, “and told me about this place. I figured that if we busted in
here and found proof of what they’re doing, we could basically have this place
shut down, or busted, or dismantled, or… I don’t know. Something. Just, a way
to stop this. Because from what I hear, this place is bad.”

“That’s an understatement.” Said them
man. Then, he paused – and then he thrust his hand out towards Aaron. “Sorry.”
He said. “I just realised that I never introduced myself. I’m Jacen.”

“Cool.” Said Aaron. “My name is Aaron,
nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.” Smiled Jacen. “And I
appreciate your help in rescuing me.”

“Ah, think nothing of it.” Aaron waved
him off, trying to act bashful. “It’s the hero gig, you know? All of that
protecting the innocent-stroke-helpless, sort of stuff.”

Jacen raised an eyebrow. “Hero?” He
echoed.

“Um, yeah.” Said Aaron. “See, the
reason Rose came to me in the first place is because I have powers, and I was
using them to try and be a… a hero, I guess. So, I couldn’t just stand by when
she told me about things.”

“About that.” Jacen turned to Rose.
“How much did you tell him, anyway?”

“S… some stuff.” Said Rose uncertainly.
“What I could.”

“Okay.” Jacen then turned back to
Aaron. “And… how much do you understand?”

“I mean, I like to think I understand
enough.” Aaron replied, suddenly feeling a little defensive. “This is a bad
place that experiments on people, and doesn’t really adhere to ethical
standards, and also one of the faction leaders may be involved.”

“Who, Overbuild?” Jacen raised an
eyebrow. Then, he stroked his chin. “Yeah, he’s involved alright. I’ve seen
him.”

“Right.” Aaron felt his heart sink a
little at the confirmation. Not only did his heart go out to Plue – she wasn’t
a fan of change or nasty surprises like this, and she’d known Overbuild for a
long time – but it also made him wonder about how they would actually be able
to solve this problem. Overbuild had a lot of power and influence. What if he
found a way to undermine them, or separate themselves from whatever information
they gathered? It would be his word against theirs, and he would by far have
more influence.

“Anyway.” He drew himself out of these
depressing thoughts, because really, now was not the time. He just had to take
it one step at a time – and currently, he had one foot in the air, teetering on
the edge of some… cliff, or something. Where was this metaphor going? He shook
his head. “Anyway, it’s enough, right? Because I’m interested in hearing
whatever you might have to say, and it’ll probably be helpful later when we’re
trying to take Overbuild down, but we are… well, we’re not *technically* on a time
limit, but we’ve snuck in and operating on stealth and also we already killed a
guy to cover our tracks.”

“Killed a guy-?” Echoed Jacen, before
turning and spotting Shadow standing in front of the door the first time, as
well as the body off to the side in the corner. He hissed and scrambled
backwards. “What the-?!”

“It’s okay!” Aaron tried to assure him.
“That’s Shadow. He’s… well, he’s not *not* dangerous, as you can see, but the important thing is that he’s on our
side. He’s on guard duty right now.”

“…I see.” Said Jacen. Then, he
squinted. “At least, I think. What, is he made out of fire or something?”

“Umm… yeah.” Admitted Aaron. “At least,
I *think* so. I can’t say I’ve actually seen black flames like that before.”

“That makes two of us.” Responded
Jacen. Then, he winced in pain. “Sorry.” He said. “Stiff.”

“No problem.” Aaron replied. “When do
you think you can move?”

“Ah, just give me a second.” Responded
Jacen. “I’ll be alright in a little bit. Then we can… well, what exactly was
your plan, if it wasn’t freeing me?” He eyed Aaron. “No offence.”

“None taken.” Aaron assured him. “And
then plan was… the plan, that is to say… well, it wasn’t so much a concrete
plan as it was an idea. But, like, an idea founded in-”

“Plan, yours, what was it?” Jacen
re-emphasised, eyes narrowing slightly. Okay, apparently this guy meant a
certain amount of business. Despite the fact that he was the one being
intimidated here, Aaron couldn’t help but feel a bit impressed.
Single-mindedness like that was always cool to see. (And yes, that was almost
definitely not a normal reaction to someone being single-minded, but whatever.)

“Evidence.” Said Aaron, by way of
explanation. “Documents, camera footage, anything we could then take to the
proper authorities – whoever they’d even be in this situation, considering
Overbuild’s involved, but whatever – and use to show that “hey, this is some
shifty stuff going on here, somebody should definitely do something about
that”. Also…” Aaron scratched his chin. “That being said, I wouldn’t be opposed
to just destroying the whole place while we’re here, if the opportunity
arises.”

“Well, *that* wouldn’t be so easy.” Jacen told him. “It’s not like there’s a single
self-destruct button around here – and no offence, but this facility is pretty
large, and I’m not sure if the three of you are capable of trashing the whole
place by yourself.”

“Four of us.” Aaron corrected before
he’d really thought it through.

Jacen raised an eyebrow. “Four of us?”
He echoed, clueless.

“Oh! Well, uh, I- sorry. I was assuming
you were on side.” Aaron hastened to correct himself. “Sorry for, like, making
that assumption.”

“Well, I’m not your enemy, that much is
for certain.” Jacen assured him. “It’s just, to be honest, if this *is* a rescue
mission, I’d rather just get out now instead of sticking around and trashing
the place.” He blinked again. “Ah, man.”

“What? What is it?” For a second, Aaron
thought that another person had come through the door, and he wheeled round
from where he’d been crouching beside Jacen. But there was nobody there.

“Nothing. I just wish I had my glasses.”
Muttered Jacen.

“Your glasses?” Echoed Aaron. Jacen
nodded.

“Yeah – I’m not, like, legally blind
without them or anything, but they really help.” He admitted. “But they took them
off me before putting me in the pod, and I have no idea where they are, so…” He
waved his hand in front of his eyes helplessly. “I’m only so able right now.”

“Well, that’s a pain in the butt.”
Aaron said. “But do you know where they’d be?”

“Honestly?” Jacen shrugged. “Not a
clue.” He then actually stood up, limbs clicking as he pulled himself onto his
legs and then into an upright standing position. He was a bit short, Aaron
noticed as he rose to his own full height – not, like, tiny (he was still
taller than Rose), but he was shorter than Aaron by a good couple of inches.
“And if it’s all the same to you, I don’t much fancy running around looking for
them.” Continued Jacen, sounding apologetic.

“Oh, that makes two of us.” Aaron
hurried to assure him. “I love a wild goose chase as much as the next guy, but
we have to prioritize, right?”

“Right.” Agreed Jacen. “Let’s go-” He
trailed off as, at the same moment, he and Aaron came to the same conclusion.
Where was Rose?

“Rose?” Aaron asked, wheeling around.
Luckily, Rose hadn’t been so discourteous as to vanish into thin air mid-facility
infiltration. Instead, she was standing in front of the other pod staring up at
it in… undisguised awe?

“What – *who* – is it?” Jacen asked as he and Aaron made their ways over. Now that
they were right by Rose, Aaron could see that as well as the awe, she was
actually looking a little terrified as she stared at the person who was in the
other pod. Once again peering over her shoulder, Aaron saw a woman’s face,
centred around a bent nose (i.e. it’d been broken in the past) and framed by
hair that was halfway between “curly” and “scraggly”.

Rose practically gasped.

“A legend.”

### **23: THE REVELATIONS BEGIN**

The permissions had been granted. The
files had been unlocked. The documents were strewn in front of them on the
computer screen, for the group to look over.

Plue almost wished that they weren’t.

“Well, there’s… a lot of expenditure.”
Dilip said, as Plue scrolled through all of the documents. “That’s a good sign,
assuming this expenditure is on his private project. If he’s been
redistributing funding towards this ulterior goal, it’d be good evidence that
he’s doing something wrong.”

“Unless he passes it off as some kind
of research grant.” Muttered Plue, only half-paying attention. Truth be told,
she was still stuck on something she had encountered earlier – a list of data
with all sorts of strange observations that didn’t really add up. The table had
included four “classes” – S, B, C, and A (although she wasn’t really sure what
order they were supposed to be in) – as well as a certain amount of entities
for each class that had their own number. For instance, S-Class had S-Class 001
all the way through to S-Class 039. Then, there was… a strange collection of
information, and one that was, based on what Plue knew, maybe the most damning
thing they’d found yet. The information had little-to-no consistency, and there
was some stuff on there that looked… well, for lack of a better term, very
superpower-y. Okay, maybe there was room for interpretation with phrases such
as “contaminant immunity” and “energy projection”, but how ELSE was she
supposed to interpret phrases such as “permeation” and “pyrokinesis”? It lined
up basically perfectly (as she remembered it, anyway) with what Rose had told
her, and it wasn’t as though she could really think of any *other*
explanation.

“He couldn’t, could he?” Asked Vector,
sounding worried. “Like, this is- this is a lot. It’d be too much to excuse,
surely!”

“Not necessarily.” Dilip told him. (And
wasn’t it ironic that Dilip seemed to know more about all this then Vector, who
was the actual faction leader? (That wasn’t fair on Vector, but the thought
came to her in a moment of stress.)) “Don’t forget, Overbuild’s reputation is
more or less spotless – he hasn’t been near a scandal for as long as anyone has
known him. Add that to the fact that he’s one of the original Faction Leaders,
having led the Assembly faction for as long as some of his subordinates have
been alive, and that-”

“Dilip.” Plue interrupted. “I’m going
to be honest: this is not helping.”

“Of course.” Dilip said, smoothly. “My
apologies.”

“Apologies accepted.” Sighed Plue,
rubbing her temples. “Gods.”

“Am I the only one who’s kind of lost
here?” Piped up Sunday. Plue felt for them – they had exactly zero context for
all this nonsense. “I mean, how do we know that all this is so bad? Sure,
whatever this thing is, it’s costly, but it’s not necessarily… it’s not
necessarily *bad*, right?”

Plue grimaced.

“Honestly, I wish that were the case.”
She told Sunday. “However, a witness has told me that Overbuild’s project, and
whatever he’s doing with all this, is all cruelty and no ethics. More to the
point, it sounds to be extremely dangerous.” She ran her tongue over her lips.
“Have you seen the news, lately? About the “Maelstrom” person that’s been
running around lately?”

“You mean the person who can apparently
control Maelstrom?” Sunday shuddered. “Yeah, I’ve seen that. Was never sure it
was real – I mean, a stromling has never behaved like that before, and what
kind of person would actually be able to do it?”

“What kind of person would fake it?”
Dilip wondered out loud.

“Unfortunately,” Plue interjected, “I
have it on good authority that whatever, or *whoever*, Maelstrom is, they’re genuine.” *And*
also that the *they*
in question is my idiot boyfriend*, she*
silently added afterwards. Because she knew for a fact that it was Aaron. He
hadn’t told her directly – not the bit about running around and taking up the
moniker “Maelstrom” (and apparently, if reports were to be believed, attempting
to fight crime like some kind of superhero), but she wasn’t an idiot. Aside
from the fact that she already knew about his maelstrom abilities, meaning that
when a person appeared with maelstrom superpowers, her suspect list numbered exactly
one, but she *knew* Aaron. She knew how stir-crazy he’d ben, she knew about his desire to
help people, and she knew about his astounding lack of self-control and
self-preservation. It all aligned almost too perfectly.

Was she annoyed that he hadn’t told her?
Well, a little bit, but he’d at least told her about the powers already. And,
she supposed, they’d *both* been pretty busy, between one thing or another. It was entirely
possible that he was planning to, and it just hadn’t come up yet. So, it wasn’t
like she was really peeved about it. Just… worried. Worried that once again, he
was putting himself in harm’s way. And yeah, to a certain point, that was
classic Aaron, and she’d knew what she was getting into when she’d fallen for
him – but there were still times where she figured that her hair was going to
turn prematurely grey from stressing over him, or that she was going to have a
conniption or something.

“Anyway,” continued Plue, picking up
the conversation with Sunday she’d almost let drop for introspective purposes,
“what they’re apparently doing is giving people abilities, like Maelstrom – not
that they’re giving them all the same powers, but that they’re giving them…
well, powers.”

“Couldn’t that be a good thing,
though?” Asked Sunday. “I mean, if people had powers like that, we could use
them to fight the maelstrom – those could be really handy in the long run,
right?”

“Well, yes, hypothetically.” Admitted
Plue. “But the issue is that from what I’ve heard, the recipients of these
powers are so non-consensually. They’re forcing people to participate in these
experiments.”

“That,” added Dilip, “and that if that
was the case, why would Overbuild not just make this project public? Why not
just make it voluntary? Surely he *would* receive volunteers for such a project.”

“Yeah.” Vector agreed from the side.
“Like, I’d probably sign up. Having superpowers would be baller, you know?”

Sunday blanched at all their responses.
“Okay. Point taken.” They said. “So…” They leaned in closer to the screen.
“Wait, go back up?”

Plue scrolled back up – Sunday’s eyes
scanned the screen, flicking through the words as they whizzed past, and
eventually held out a finger at the point where Plue had half-anticipated that
they’d want to stop.

“Stop there.” They said, on the table
of categories and powers. “So, all these things… they’re all different types of
power?”

“Well, we can’t say for sure,
unfortunately.” Admitted Plue. “But I have a sneaking suspicion that yeah,
that’s what those are.”

Sunday peered at the list. “What the
hell is “energy projection”, then?”

“Honestly, I haven’t the foggiest
cussing idea.” Plue muttered in response. “Some of these are pretty vague.”

“Do you think “polymorphing limbs” is-
what does that even mean?” Vector asked.

“If something polymorphs?” Plue, who
actually did know what this one meant (well, roughly, anyway), tried to think
about how best to explain it. “It, like, shifts. Changes shape. So, if someone
can polymorph their limbs, I guess that means that they can turn their arms
into different shapes.”

Sunday shuddered. “Ew.” They murmured.

“I daresay we’re getting a little
off-topic.” Dilip interrupted the speculation in a stern voice. “What else is
there?”

*Thank you,*
Dilip*, thought Plue as she took hold of the*
mouse again and began to scroll back to where they’d been before. “Let’s see –
expenditure for everything from building materials to a security budget, for
one thing.”

“Oh, great, they have security.” Vector
mumbled. “How did they get all of this stuff thrown together without anyone else
noticing?”

“Perhaps,” Dilip remarked with wryness
lacing his tone, “it wouldn’t have escaped our attentions if certain
individuals had paid more attention to such matters at meetings between faction
leaders.” It was a joke, Plue knew – it was unlikely that Overbuild was going
to bring the thing up during those meetings anyway, if he wanted to keep it
secret, for one thing.

“Hey!” Vector glowered at him. “It’s
not like I’ve been on the job for very long, y’know!”

“Oh, that much is obvious.” Plue could
practically hear Dilip’s smirk, even though she wasn’t looking at him.

Vector rose to the bait, reaching out
and rapping Dilip on the forehead with his knuckles. Dilip just laughed.

“Knock it off.” Plue said in her best
“warning” tone. “Hate to say it, but the last thing we need is the two of you
clowning around while we’re trying to tackle this whole thing, here.” It wasn’t
as though she was against some levity – she knew the importance of morale, and
all that – but right now just didn’t feel like the right time to have to put up
with it all.

“Just trying to raise morale.” Dilip
assured her, coolly, echoing her thoughts somewhat.

“Whose morale were you trying to
raise?” Vector answered. “Because that-” he placed a meaty hand over his heart.
“That hurt, Dilip.”

Dilip shrugged. “You’ll live.”

Sunday leaned over to Plue, curiosity
etched across their brow. “Are they always like this?” They asked. Plue
shrugged in response.

“Not always, but you’d be surprised how
often this happens.” She remarked. Sunday blinked at her. She waved them off.
“Look, it’s nothing to worry about. Let’s just get back to these files, huh?”

And get back to them they did – what
followed was a number of long minutes spent pouring over all of the details
that they’d been granted access to. After a few minutes, Sunday began making
brief notes on all of the key points of what they were seeing, which Plue
appreciated. They read through page after page of specifications, notes, and
lists, eventually finding things such as a list of personnel, a map of what was
presumably the whole facility, and more lists of expenditures that revealed,
amongst other things, exactly where this whole project had gotten a lot of its
funding from.

“Who the hell are these anonymous
donors?” Vector asked as they read through that last expenditure.

“We don’t know, Vector.” Sighed Plue,
fatigue wearing down her patience. “That’s why they’re referred to as
“anonymous” donors, presumably.”

“So, there are some powerful people
with access to ample funding involved in this operation…” Dilip stroked his
chin thoughtfully. “Interesting.”

“Well, to be fair,” Plue pointed out,
“we don’t know how involved these people are. We don’t know how culpable they
are in all this, or even if they really know what they’re donating *to*. It’s
possible that Overbuild disguised this operation as something else, and they
were duped into giving money to what they thought it was a good cause, when
actually…”

“It was to this ethical nightmare.”
Finished Dilip, solemnly.

““To be fair”?” Vector echoed, sounded
a tad disgusted. “Why do we have to be *fair* to the rich and powerful, though? Like- they’re rich and powerful!
You’d think they’d be more careful about where they’re putting their money. And
knowing them, they probably know and don’t even care!”

“Wow, Vector,” deadpanned Plue, “you’re
not a fan of the wealthy, are you.”

Vector flailed his hands. “I grew up scrounging
for artefacts in a desert!” He protested. “My family worked their ass off just
to survive, and half of those guys probably haven’t done a day’s manual labour
in their lives. Like, I don’t want to generalize and say they’re all bad, but
also, like, eat the rich.”

“Their *ass*, singular, off?” Plue butted in. “Are you referring to your family’s
collective ass, or something?”

“Shut up.” Grumbled Vector. “You know
what I mean.”

“Before you do anything as drastic as,
as you put it, eating the rich,” Dilip sounded like he was on the verge of
laughing, “do you know how much Faction Leaders get paid?”

Vector blinked. “…No?”

“I am just saying, you don’t exactly
get paid peanuts.” Revealed Dilip. “Granted, you actually do work for it, but
still…”

“Shut up.” Vector pulled a phone out of
his pocket. “No way. Wait, I- where’s that email?” He began typing furiously.

“I’m pretty sure your salary is the
living wage times a few, dude.” Plue butted in with what she remembered about
her uncle having the position. “I mean, Duke’s got his salary hooked up to
about half a dozen charities so he doesn’t end up hoarding it all, but the NF
insists that he takes the pay, so…”

“Oh my God.” Breathed Vector, staring
at his phone. “I’m the rich and powerful.”

Dilip patted him on the back in a
gesture of mock comfort. “Be sure to keep us plebeians in your thoughts when
you buy your third house.”

“THIRD house?” Vector almost shrieked.
“When did I buy a SECOND house?!”

Sunday burst out laughing.

“Can we discuss Vector’s housing crisis
later?” Half-joked Plue.

“This- this, that sounds like the
opposite of what a housing crisis actually is.” Sunday joked through their
laughter.

“Semantics.” Plue waved them off,
recovering her wits and trying her best to focus back on the task at hand. “But
seriously, guys – we still have things to do.”

“Alright.” Dilip said. “We can discuss
his crisis later.”

“Thank you.” Breathed Plue. “Now, come
on, get back around here. What does this mean?”

And so, the analysis continued. After
recovering from the revelation, Vector threw himself into looking over the
files with renewed gusto, and after a little while, it was clear that the group
was actually making a fair amount of progress – both in terms of actually
getting through the document, and in terms of putting together a case against
Overbuild that actually seemed fairly concrete. They now had indisputable proof
that he was using large amounts of funding for a seemingly unknown project,
that he had constructed a whole secret facility somewhere under Nimbus Station,
that the research had something to do with superpower a la the new vigilante
Maelstrom, and that a fair whack of his money came from unknown entities and
parties. And though there was only one proper witness (Rose) for the moment,
Plue was confident that her and Shadow would be a good start in terms of
further evidence and proof that something was going on – and if they could talk
to the people who were supposedly still in the facility (and hopefully rescue
them as well, if it came to that), that’d be that many more witnesses. And
then, right at the bottom of the dredges of information found within the files,
there were some scans of forms that had been signed in Overbuild’s signature. They
hadn’t all been signed by Overbuild, and not all of them were even necessarily
that damning, but if the fact that the info hadn’t been stored on Overbuild’s
files in the first place was proof enough, this undeniably proved that yeah,
nah, Overbuild was absolutely not just involved, but involved to a key degree.

Oh yeah, it was all coming together.

After what felt like hours – and it may
have been, because Plue hadn’t check the time since beginning this whole thing
– everyone seemed to let out a collective sigh, leaning back in their chairs
and where they stood, staring up at the ceiling and doing their damndest to
process everything that they’d learnt and read and discussed. It seemed… slightly
unreal. But it was very, very difficult to deny by this point. As far as at
least Plue was concerned, Rose had been telling nothing but the truth, and
Overbuild was guilty. Which led to the issue of next steps; what could she do
now? How would she put her case together? How would she handle this whole
situation?

“So, what now?” Sunday echoed her
thoughts. The maintenance worker was staring at their hands, fingers
intertwined. “What do we… what do we do?” They sounded lost. Plue could
empathize.

“Well, now we know.” Dilip hummed. “For
sure.”

“Not technically.” Vector tried to
argue. “We haven’t actually seen the place.”

“Seeing isn’t everything.” Argued
Dilip. Plue held up her hand – the two men fell silent.

“Both of you make good points.” She
told them. “Dilip’s right, Vector – we don’t necessarily have to see it at this
point. The evidence is overwhelming, you have to admit.”

Vector nodded. He looked… withdraw.
Plue could only reason that that was because he’d spent so much time with
Overbuild, as a fellow faction leader, without realising that anything was
wrong. (At least, that was what she *reasoned*. She didn’t know for sure.)

“And Dilip.” Plue now addressed Vector.
“Vector has a point – we still ought to see exactly what’s happening for
ourselves; in order to get a full scope of the situation, if nothing else.”

Dilip shrugged his shoulders. “You make
a valid point.” He conceded. “I suppose that we shall want to leave nothing to
chance.”

“You suppose correctly.” Remarked Plue.
“Like I said earlier; we need to be careful.”

“Not sure *how* raising this could wreck any careers at this point.” Observed Vector.
“Not now that we actually have evidence.”

Plue shook her head. “We need a case,
first of all, I think. Got to brush up on my legal knowledge, but my suspicion
is that if we just show up without a layout and organisation to all of this
proof, there’s going to be the chance that Overbuild will wriggle out of it.”

“How?” Vector sounded incredulous. “We
have his signature? That’s, like, a smoking gun and a half, right?”

“But we have not seen him there.” Dilip
pointed out.

“If you could get footage from the
security feed,” Sunday interjected, “that would be pretty good proof that he
was there. I mean,” they scratched their head awkwardly, “he could argue that
it was doctored or something, but it would be a pretty good start…”

“Wait- I think I missed something.”
Vector jumped back into the conversation. “When did we establish that we had
the security feed from this place?”

“Oh, we don’t.” Sunday hurried to
explain. “But you see, back up here?”

Catching his drift, Plue began to
scroll back up the document she was on, going for a few pages until Sunday got
her to stop. Then, they indicated to a set of figures. “Look. We know they *have* a security
system, because there are the expenses for it.”

“Good eye.” Complimented Dilip as he
peered closer to look at the figures.

“So, what I’m inferring from all this
is that our next step is to, in short, “get down there and investigate for
ourselves”.” Sighed Plue. “Any thoughts or ideas on that?”

As she’d half-expected (for it was his
way), Vector all but jumped up and slammed his palm into his fist
over-enthusiastically. “Bust in there!” He proclaimed. “Get what we need as
quickly as possible.”

Not for the first time, Plue idly
figured that Vector and Aaron, if they ever met (which they hadn’t), would
almost definitely be good friends.

As she’d *also* half-expected, Dilip argued for stealth. “I argue for stealth.” He
said, eying Vector pointedly as he continued to speak. “It would be folly to
charge in half-baked, with no plan, and hope to achieve total success. For one
thing, if our enemy knows that we’re coming, they will immediately begin taking
steps to oppose us, presumably. Even if we didn’t break in, as Vector suggests,
but instead simply organised a formal inspection or exploration of this site,
they would be able to argue against it or sabotage us. For instance, they might
delay us for long enough to move all of their most incriminating assets, and
then let us in and make us look like paranoid goons.”

“But,” Plue argued back, “we can’t *sneak* in,
because if we gather evidence that way, it’s not going to hold up under
scrutiny. Plus, then Overbuild will be able to accuse us of, like, subterfuge
and trespassing and general cussery.”

“Plus some of us aren’t that great at
stealth.” Vector interjected. Dilip rolled his eyes.

“Any ideas, Sunday?” Plue asked. Sunday
shook their head nervously.

“None, ma’am.” They admitted. “I mean,
I still think that footage of Overbuild on site, being complicit in the things
we’re accusing him of, would help… but I don’t know how we’d get that footage.
We can’t steal it.”

“And like Dilip said,” Plue agreed,
“they’ll prepare for us if we formalize anything and announce what we’re doing.
For all we know, as soon as they catch wind of what they’re doing, they’ll…
delete all their files or something.”

Vector practically threw his hands up
in the air. “Well, that’s why I’m arguing for going in all at once!” He
declared. “March in there *quickly*, before they get a chance to mess around to try and cover their
tracks.”

“But on whose authority would we do
that?” Dilip folded his arms. Vector fumbled for a moment, but then recovered
himself.

“Well, mine!” He argued. “At least –
that was my idea. But it makes sense, right? I’m a Faction Leader, my rank is
equal to Overbuild’s, I can at least counter anything that he’d try to order or
organize to wriggle away from us.”

“You rank is equal to his, yes.” Said
Dilip. “But not your reputation.”

“That shouldn’t matter, though.” Vector
furrowed his brow in dismay.

“But it does.” Replied Dilip, with a
sigh. “Compared to Overbuild, you are just a young upstart of a leader. Not
only is your political experience limited, but you yourself are very young – he
could easily use both of these against you if you tried to spearhead our case.”

“But no-one else would be able to lead,
though, would they?” Responded Vector, frustratedly gesturing with a hand.
“Doesn’t matter if none of you are in his faction, that authority means his
word is still as good as law!”

“It’s a lose-lose situation.” Added
Sunday, gloomily.

As the conversation continued to rage
around her, Plue placed her arms on her desk, rested her forehead on her hands
(essentially facedesking), and thought. Her initial thought was *damn, she wished she had Aaron with her* – not that he’d even be much of a practical help, what with his
limited experience with politics and limited patience for anything resembling
rules and regulations, but she knew that she could always count on him for
morale support, if nothing else. Which would have been… which would have been
nice. But there was no time for being distractedly in love now. They needed a
person whose experience, prestige, and rank all matched Overbuild, who could be
trusted to keep things quiet for at least a little while, who would actually
take their side in the argument, and who would generally know what they were
doing and how to help further their cause.

“Guys.” She said, raising her head and
cutting off the people talking around her. Ignoring the twinge of discomfort at
feeling three pairs of eyes on her, she rifled through her pocket and dug out a
phone, hastily scrolling through the contacts until she found who she was
looking for.

“I think it’s time we call in the big
guns.”

### **24: SUSPICIOUS [EYES EMOJI]**

Well, that’s descriptive, Aaron thought to himself. But he kept that specific thought quiet.
Instead, he simply replied by echoing:

“A legend?”

Rose blanched, like she’d only just
realised that there were other people in the room with her. (Which was
obviously not the case, for contextual reasons.)

“I mean- not a *legend* legend,
that’s now what I- that’s not…” She, perhaps predictably
by this point, didn’t finish her sentence.

“Who is it, then?” Jacen asked. He
peered closely at the person in the pod, probably trying to make up for the
fact that he couldn’t see all that well without his glasses. “You said legend,
but I don’t recognise her from anything.” He pursed his lips. “Admitted, I’m a
little handicapped at this specific moment, but even so…”

“She’s like, um, she’s not a…” Rose
fumbled with the words like she was trying to keep ahold of a wet bar of soap.
“I mean- I’ve heard her mentioned,” she eventually said (slowly and carefully,
as though she were approaching a skittish animal that was going to make a break
for it any second), “by some of the other people in here. They say, um, they
say that there was an attempt at a breakout, once, and most of everyone was
either recaptured or, um, killed.”

*Yikes*, added Aaron, mentally. Just add that to the list of nasty business
that was going on here.

(He was, of course, selectively
ignoring the death that he’d at least indirectly caused since sneaking in here.
But yes, add that to the list.)

“But she,” said Rose as she continued
with her story, “she just wouldn’t go down. They kept trying to restrain her
and she wouldn’t go. So they, um- well, no-one’s sure what happened to her, but
I guess we know now.”

“Huh.” Aaron placed his hands on his
hips as he looked over the pod and its occupant. “How do you know it’s her,
though?”

“She looks like how they described.”
Said Rose, peering into the pod. “Tall, with brown hair. And moles.” She
pointed to the side of her own face, indicating where, on the woman in the pod,
there were two moles – one just underneath her left eye, and the other one also
on the left but further down, towards her jaw. “Plus, it makes sense!”

“Honestly, I’d figure that they’d have
just killed her, if she’d ended up being so much trouble.” Jacen reasoned. Rose
visibly flinched, which, Aaron noticed, caused Jacen to flinch in kind. “Hey,
I’m not saying that I’d *want* to! That’s not-” He slapped his palm onto his forehead in
exasperation. “Sorry for being objective.”

“…Okay, anyway.” Said Aaron. “Um. So,
should we go now, or…?”

“No!” Protested Rose, panicked, head
turning back and forth between Aaron and the pod. “No, we should save her!”

“Save- Rose.” Aaron tried his best to
sound sympathetic. “We can’t save everyone we meet. What, are we going to just
start a prison break here and now, or something? We can’t afford to keep
veering off-course like this. Besides,” he added hastily when he realised that
he was beginning to sound like a total asshole, “the whole point of coming here
was to save everyone anyway! If she’s okay in the pod, she should be fine until
we can get this place shut down and get back to rescue both her, and everyone
else? Right?”

“You don’t know that!” Argued Rose with
a wobble in her voice. “Besides- didn’t you say that you were trying to be a
hero so you could help people? And now there’s a person right here, a person
who needs your help, and you’re just going to… to turn away?”

“Hey.” Aaron, who was beginning to feel
a little attacked, said. “That’s not what I’m saying.” His temptation was
still, in all honesty, to just strawberry jam out of this facility as quickly
as possible – there was a bad gut feeling in his, well, gut, that was only
getting stronger and stronger the longer he stayed – and it was telling him to go, to run, to get out and save himself…
but Rose was right. That wasn’t what he was here for, and that wasn’t why he’d
wanted to try and be a vigilante/hero person. “I just…” He sighed, knowing what
decision he was eventually going to go for either way.

“If she really is as formidable as her reputation,” Jacen
interjected, brow furrowed in an expression of thought, “she could be useful to
have around. A good fighter would be a benefit it we were to run into trouble.”
He glanced briefly at the body in the corner. “Any *more* trouble,
apparently.”

“Well, that’s true as well.” Aaron admitted, leaning back
and staring up at the ceiling as he sighed. Man, he really was an idiot, wasn’t
he?

Ah well.

He’d never been one for logic and restraint and the bigger
picture before, had he? Why did he think that he was going to start now? Now,
of all times, when it called for him to be less… less *kind*?

It was with a small jolt, as he returned his field of vision
back to regular not-bent-backwards-and-staring-up-at-the-ceiling levels, that
he realised that both Rose and Jacen were staring at him, waiting for him to
respond. Looking to him for answers. Well, no pressure, or anything.

“Okay, we’ll help her.” He decided, over-dramatically
shrugging his shoulders. “You’re right, Rose, I’d be a shit hero if I just left
a person in a place like this when they’re right in front of me and ripe for
the saving. Let’s get to work.” He smiled at her. “Thanks for the reminder.”

“You’re, um… you’re welcome.” Said Rose.

With that gotten out of the way, it was time to do… the
thing. Time to do the thing, and free this woman, whoever she was. Like with
Jacen’s pod, his glorious stratagem was to attach webs to either side of the
door bit, buckle down, and *heave*. (Because hey, effort aside, if it
weren’t broke, he weren’t gonna fix it.)

His legs trembled with the strain as he fought against the
might of the metal doors. Sweat beginning to run down his creased forehead, he
shifted his feet as-

“Uh, hey.” Jacen stepped forward with an insultingly blank
expression on his face. “You know you don’t have to do that, right? That you
can just press the button on the side, and these thins open easily?” He folded
his arms. “No need to go to all the trouble.”

“Well, yeah.” Aaron said through trembling lips as he
continued to pull. Surely he was almost there-! “But we had no idea which
button actually released the thing, and which others did just who-knew-what, so
we decided that we’ve remove the door like this to be safe. You know, it made sense.”

“Uh-huh.” Jacen did not look impressed. Ducking under the
webbing that Aaron was still furiously pulling on, he approached the side of
the pod and bent down, pressing a button with ease. At once, the front entrance
to the pod hissed and slid downwards – Aaron was almost pulled off his feet as
it did so.

“Right, well.” Aaron was struck with a reluctance to thank
this guy, who’d invalidated all of his hard work – but, like, he’d only been
trying to help, so it wasn’t as though he could really *blame* him for
anything. And besides, as he’d reminded himself maybe a couple of dozen times already;
they didn’t have the time. There was danger in what they were doing. Did he
even really think there WAS any danger anymore? (Well, obviously he did, but it
definitely didn’t feel as dangerous as it had felt when he’d first begun this
little infiltration mission – maybe he’d just acclimatised himself to the
feeling of tension and now didn’t feel it as much. Or something.) “Thank you.”

“Don’t sound so grateful.” Remarked Jacen, which irritated
Aaron all the more – hadn’t he, Aaron, just helped save this guy? Where was the
gratitude there? – but it still didn’t matter.

*Whatever*, he thought.

As if by a brilliant stroke of karma, however, as Jacen
walked back past Aaron and the pod, the woman inside it toppled out and right
onto him, pinning him unceremoniously to the ground.

“What the?” Gasped Jacen, but there was no response from the
woman. It made sense, Aaron figured in amusement – Jacen had been unconscious
when they’d initially set him free, so it stood to reason that the same would
be true for anyone else in seemingly the exact same type of pod. He watched for
a moment, waiting for Jacen to free himself, but it was clear at a glance that
that wouldn’t necessarily be that easy for him. Not only were his arms
toothpicks (not *literal* toothpicks of course, but like, comparative
toothpicks in that they didn’t have any real muscle on them), but the woman was
*big*. Super tall, although exactly how tall he couldn’t say because she
wasn’t standing up at the moment, and with thick muscular limbs. In short, she
looked like she could crack skulls with ease.

“Need a hand?” Aaron asked, not wanting to be a *complete*
dick about the whole situation. Jacen glowered at him indignantly.

“Yes, actually, I would.” He harrumphed in an impatient
tone. Aaron smirked.

“Don’t sound so grateful.” He parroted, before strolling
over and grabbing the woman’s wrists. It took some effort, but he eventually
managed to pull her body off to the side, allowing Jacen to clamber unsteadily
to his feet.

“Are you alright?” Rose asked Jacen, arms clutched towards
her chest in a way that reminded Aaron a little bit of some noble lady from the
past clutching her pearls in distress.

“Fine.” Jacen rolled his shoulder with a groan. “Just not
expecting that, is all.”

Aaron, meanwhile, was keeping a cautious eye on the woman. “legend”
was an interesting descriptor from Rose, but if he had to give her one at this
very moment, it would probably sound a little less like “legend” and a little
more like “rug in human form”. As it stood, she wasn’t waking up from her stint
in the pod.

“Well, this was a great idea.” He muttered out loud, careful
to not let the others hear him, and set off another discussion. Not that he was
*regretting* his decision to help this woman, but if she didn’t wake up,
they were either going to have to leave her behind (which defeated the whole
purpose of trying to rescue her in the first place), or they were going to have
to drag her with them, which would be HIGHLY inconvenient considering he still
wanted to find… oh, hell, what did he even want to find? Solid evidence that this place was
bad, yeah, okay, sure, but what would that evidence even constitute? If he
wanted security feeds, where was he going to get his hands on it, and how would
he even know what he was looking for, and whether or not it would be incriminating?
If it was documents, where would he even find them? What was… what was he *doing*?

Aaron drew himself out of his thoughts to realise that Jacen and
Rose were both eying him again – maybe he’d stayed quiet too long.

“Sorry.” He said, out loud. “Just having a moment of self-doubt.”

“You good?” Jacen asked, just as Rose gasped and said:

“Are you alright?”

Aaron was touched by the fact that they actually seemed to care.
“Yeah, nah, it’s all good.” He assured them. “I’m over it. It’s just… it’s just
a tad stressful, all of this, you know? Never done something like this before…
untold dangers… just needed a minute to compose.” He clapped his hands
together, accidentally making Rose jump. “But nevertheless! I’m composed,
that’s all done, we’re good, we’re cool. What’s next on the agenda, then?”

“Um…” Rose eyed Jacen, nervously, who shrugged in slightly baffled
response.

“Honestly,” admitted Jacen, “I was going to ask you the same
thing. What *is* our next move? Presumably it’s escaping, right?”

Aaron… Aaron postulated. Because well, actually, his original plan
had been to scour the facility until he found some damning evidence that he
could turn over to the right people and get the place shut down… maybe fight
some bad guys… not that that was a necessity, but it could have been fun. But now,
priorities had changed. Rose had, for better or worse, temporarily hijacked his
mission – and, to be fair, she’d asked him for help with all this in the first
place, so it had kind of been her idea. Well, *kind* of. At worst, this
was just both of them being horrendously bad at communicating, which was
slightly embarrassing considering the gravity of their circumstances, but
whatever. The point was – he was in the middle of a secret base with four other
people, with nobody else having any idea that any of them were there, because
he hadn’t TOLD anyone that he’d been planning this, because Will and Plue would
have absolutely tried to stop him if they’d known that hew as going to try
this, and he was basically responsible for all these people!! He couldn’t just
lead them on a wild goose chase in search of some maybe-proof of nefarious
deeds being done! He had to get them out of here! And besides, they were
witnesses, so that was probably good proof in and of itself!

No, as much as he may have wanted to do follow through with his
original idea, he now had a kinda duty to these people. He couldn’t, like, lead
them into *more* danger. Well, he could, but the prospect didn’t really
sit right with him.

“Bang on the money.” He said. “We are absolutely going to escape
now.”

It was, of course, as this perhaps not auspicious moment (though
to be fair, he wasn’t, like, totally sure what auspicious even meant, so maybe
it *was* auspicious, he didn’t know), that the woman lying on the floor – who’d
previously been unconscious – chose to regain consciousness with something
between a yell and a splutter. It was a very weird noise.

“Hello?” Aaron actually said out loud
as he, Jacen and Rose all turned to stare at the new awaker.

The woman, a bit like Jacen when he’d
woken up, stared blearily at the ceiling like she had no real idea where she
was. Then, quite unlike Jacen, she leapt onto her feet from a lying position
(which took skill!) and was up on her feet immediately, and *wow*, she
really was tall! Definitely over six feet. She took a fighting stance (after
wobbling on her feet a little), and raised her fists like each one was a
grade-a-calibre weapon.

“Okay, strange people I’ve never met,”
she said with a remarkably loud voice, making Aaron worry about the part of
their plan where they remained hidden, “I want an explanation – but not a super
complicated explanation, or I’ll get a headache. Feel free to keep it simple.” Her
gaze drifted upward, like she was trying to think of something. “Actually, *please* keep it
simple. But, uh, yeah, tell me what’s happening?”

“I’m picking up some mixed messages,
here.” Aaron said out loud, before he could really consider his words. So,
nothing new there then. Classic Aaron, really.

“I’m saying to give me some answers!”
She boomed, and Aaron suddenly remembered the noise thing. He held out a hand,
trying to get her to calm down, and she responded by falling lower into her
crouch. Her eyes glinted, and oh, man, this was entering dangerous territory,
wasn’t it?

Thankfully, it was at this point that
Rose stepped forward.

“Um-! Hello!” She said. “Um, I’m really
sorry, but we’re actually not supposed to be here, so if you could not be so
loud, just so we could avoid attracting any attention, we’d really, um- we’d really
appreciate it. Thank you!” She finished the sentence by turning away, as though
she couldn’t bear to even look at the woman any more.

“Not supposed to… be here?” Echoed the
woman, staring at then in what looked to be undisguised confusion – even as she
remained in her fighting stance. “Who are you people?”

“We were just leaving. That’s the
important part, I’d figure.” Jacen said. The woman narrowed her eyes at him.

“Another escape attempt?” She asked.

“No.” Replied Aaron. “I mean- kind of.
It’s less of an escape attempt, and more of a rescue, because a couple of us
broke in…” he twirled his fingers around one another through the air in a
motion. “I mean, you know how it is.”

“No, I don’t think she does.”
Interjected Jacen. “You said that like it’s a relatable thing – it’s not a
relatable thing.”

Aaron hissed. “I was trying to just be
conversational!” He protested.

“What kind of conversation-” Jacen
began, only to be interrupted by the woman again, who stamped her foot on the
ground like a petulant child.

“If you’re not trying to escape, then
what is this?” She asked in a yell.

“It’s a rescue mission!” Aaron yelled
back. “We’re rescuing you!”

“Why?” The woman yelled. Not, to keep
it short, the reaction that Aaron had been expecting.

“*Why*?” He echoed, incredulously, even as Rose and Jacen stared at the two
of them. “Why *not*?”

The woman huffed. “This is all just a
trick, isn’t it?” She asked him, lowering her stance but still standing tall,
fists clenched, staring him down as though she were afraid to take her eyes off
of him for even a second. “I’m going to turn my back on you and then next thing
I know, I’m back in the pod or worse, is that it?”

“…No.” Said Aaron. “No, that’s not-
that’s not what we were going to do at all.” His heart went out to her a
little. “Did someone do that?”

“Does it matter?” The woman asked
through gritted teeth. Aaron decided to shut up on that particular, obviously
sensitive, topic.

“Nope. No, not at all.” He tried to
assure her. “That’s not the big deal here.”

The door hissed open again.

Aaron wheeled around, desperately –
Rose shrieked – another man had walked into the room, and like the one that had
come before him, stood and stared in stunned silence at the scene displayed
before his eyes.

This time, however, it wasn’t Shadow
that took action. It was the woman. She lunged forward in a huge bound that
left Aaron unable to do anything but think “holy shit, she’s fast”, grabbed the
scientist, and headbutted him right in the face. There was the nasty crunch
that Aaron recognised as a broken nose, and the woman proceeded to throw the
scientist into the corner like a rag doll, mouth open in a silent yell of pain.
There he lay – not dead, or even mortally wounded, but gasping and whimpering
from shock and pain.

Rose whined in distress. Without
sparing them even another glance, the woman then sprinted out of the room
without a care in the world, thundering down the corridor, footsteps quickly
fading from hearing.

“Good lord.” Muttered Jacen, echoing
Aaron’s sentiment, Aaron thought, really pretty accurately.