"I'm not...?" Irva replied, not sure what she meant.

  Hezekiah inwardly breathed. He expected this and thought about ways to fix it, but he couldn't move freely.

  "You're just like that woman, Elaine—both people with special powers, but no Abna Energy. You two are the first of your kind, and both discovered on the same day. Coincidences can be funny at times."

  His ears perked at the sound of Elaine's name. He considered using the Custom Boundary to somehow get her killed, but what if he's forced to suffer another backlash by abusing its power?

  "I'm still confused why I was told to show up for this raid. Irva I get, but me?"

  The statement was more to divert the subject, but knowing her game plan was paramount.

  "You're the almighty Tank, don't cut yourself short. And you better go, trust me." She made her way to the door. "I gathered enough evidence to prosecute the scumbags. You guys are also valuable witnesses."

  Hezekiah got up from his chair after he picked up his cards. "I'm not doing it, Falina. Don't think you can boss me around all of a sudden."

  "Then Irva will be fine by herself?"

  Hezekiah squinted. What does she mean by that?

  "Why would I care? It's not my life in jeopardy. But we still need to have our talk—why did you keep all this from me?"

  "Oh, mysteries—still dying to know? But it's heartless to think it's fair to be asking me that." She opened the door, turning toward the two of them.

  "Elaine was really tight-lipped about you, whether it was pride or maybe fear, or perhaps she hopes for something good to happen—I don't know. But don't cry too much; we can gossip all we want when the raid is over tomorrow."

  "You're the one not making sense. If everyone was really trapped in the tower like you claimed, then why do you appear fine?"

  She dropped a tired expression. "I'm just a duplicate, no different from the other two you saw."

  Hezekiah's eyes widened. "You're not real...?"

  "That's a harsh way to put it. We have feelings too, you know? Otherwise, we wouldn't have helped the civilians escape. A bloody mess was made, so the least Irva can do is stay out of their society."

  The door was slammed shut, the two left by themselves.

  Lightning flashed out the window. Rain pummeled the glass, the silence sat between them.

  "I won't go, Hezekiah."

  Hezekiah took his seat again and wrapped his hands together. Irva will be killed if she doesn't. Then his consequences for giving her powers will be for nothing.

  "You'll have to. It's a test."

  "Why not empty your dirty closet? I don't think they're lying about sparing me."

  "Or you're just being used, to be tossed away when they no longer find you useful."

  Irva lay back in her bed, turning over toward the window. "We're not the same. We're both here for different reasons."

  He didn't bother answering her. All he could do was focus ahead. Falina was likely aware of Knat's existence if she checked in with Viraka already. But neither of them knew about his influence on HQ.

  I'm going to have to use the Custom Boundary again.

  The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  It's a surprise Elaine hadn't said anything, but she's better off dead. But not fulfilling his promise to Sally didn't sit right either.

  "I trust you know what to do when we get down there?"

  Irva shuffled under the covers, her eyes closed in the window's reflection. It's not like she's dumb that I have to spell it out for her. She managed pretty well, all things considered.

  Hezekiah got up and reached the door. "Destroy it before we leave. That's the only way they can't make a solid connection."

  She gave a light nod, not needing to ask what he was referring to.

  ***

  This is exactly why I tried to avoid the Unity Council from the very beginning.

  He paced down the hall toward his room.

  He remembered on his way to the organization, that he was hesitant about using the pen. And now look where it got him.

  If only they knew the pen could literally rewrite reality itself, and not just throw diseases around.

  He opened the door to his room. A servant with horns was vacuuming the carpet.

  "Insydious?"

  She looked up, smiling with a small wave. "You're back, Master Hezekiah."

  He closed the door behind him, leaving dirt prints on the carpet before dropping in his bed. "Master? That's new."

  "A reform of my etiquette was necessary. Do you like it?" she asked, vacuuming the spots he left behind.

  "It's weird. Drop it."

  Insydious's lips trembled. "I-If that's what you insist, Mas— I mean, Hezekiah." She dislodged the dust container and emptied its contents into the trash bag she carried.

  As she bent over, her uniform lifted to her calves, showing dark bluish marks. Each step she took was a little unstable, but her demeanor made it look inconsequential.

  She cleaned the desk with wipes. Lashes peered from beneath her sleeve; occasionally, she pulled them up, but it didn't really help.

  Hezekiah carefully breathed and just had to confirm it himself.

  —Type: The Pytious Horned Race—

  —Physical Conditions: Alive, Fatigue, Injured—

  —Mental Conditions: Demoralized, Hopeful, Anxious—

  —Weakness: Berries—

  Her other information was of no interest to him, so he went straight to External Analysis. The results weren't surprising, but to say he felt nothing would be a lie.

  "You still didn't bring back those desserts from last time."

  Insydious's hand froze. "My apologies, I'll serve them ri—"

  "I was looking forward to eating them with you. Don't think I'm letting you off that easily."

  The wipe crumbled within her grasp. "It's uncomely for a servant to dine with the guest, but are you okay with it...?"

  Hezekiah scratched his head. "Look, you go play the perfect maid with the others. But that isn't the servant that I want, so act natural."

  Her hands still rested on the table until they resumed cleaning again. "Is that a command?"

  "Because you asked, grab some of your written works while we eat. I expect you back within twenty minutes."

  She gradually turned around, her small smile almost unnoticeable. "We're not friends, dummy."

  Insydious was gone like a spark. The crippled wipe lay on the desk, its smear marks left behind.

  Damn, she moves quick, he commented, a little relieved that she appeared better. After he got up and closed the door, clinks of metal sounded behind him. A sweet aroma wafted through the air.

  His lips curved. "It must suck when you trip." On the table were sponge cakes and cookies. A few plates were already made, while one of them looked like someone had already dug into them.

  "Heh. You doubt my dazzling service? Speed is my specialty!" Insydious assured. She licked traces of chocolate off her lips.

  "Saying no to my high-valued guest is worthy of death. How dare I not fulfill my loyal duties."

  Stacks of papers were on the table. Two pens sat on opposite ends of the table. "Dramatic much?" He sat on a chair directly across from her. The paper blank before him.

  "Oooh! That's a sweet idea. Whoever writes the most emotional, dramatic scene wins!"

  He opened a plastic bag full of chocolate-chip cookies. "Uh? Aren't you supposed to be showing me your works? Don't try to chicken out of this."

  "Bla bla bla. Whoever loses has to fulfill one spicy request of the winner!"

  He took a bite as he picked up the pen. "Why do I feel like you're trying to swindle me?"

  Her lips twitched; quickly covering her mouth. "How dare you accuse a fellow writer? Or maybe you're scared?"

  Hezekiah remained expressionless. A spicy request?

  Without realizing it, he was already tracing her. Her form was appealing, but he remembered when she pulled something similar like this last time.

  "We're not friends, let alone lovers. So what's up with those pages by you? Your shitty first drafts?"

  She frowned, leaning back in her chair. "If you're a scaredy-cat, just say so. I'll even lose on purpose if my awesome, honorable guest demands it."

  Hezekiah rested his elbow on the table, flipping the pen around his fingers. I can't write for shit, but no way I'm telling her that.

  He reached to her side and picked up several pages that were stapled together. "Yup, you're still annoying." He read the words on the header; his brows rose. It was titled I Can Read Your Mind.

  It was direct, but interesting in a way.

  The ink was red and incredibly neat. A nerve popped, but overthinking it would be schizophrenic.

  He looked up at her; a sharp gaze met his. The last time she was this stiff was when Ikas reprimanded her. "Relax. I'm only going to be judging you."

  She supported her head, shoving booklets to his side. "Then you better read all the sequels. My eager guest better not chicken out now."

  Each booklet was just below half a foot in length. There were four in total, and it was going to take a while.

  But that's okay. He began to read the first line and kept reading until the light from the windows was no more.