Chapter 22 (Patreon)

I finished up in the bathroom pretty fast after my initial freakout.

The messages from Cassie didn’t contain anything critical; it was mainly her checking up on my progress with Sherrel, a few steamy-mirrored ass shots taken from the bathroom, and a selfie of the bratty hacker winking and posing behind the back of a hunched over Sabah. In the picture it seemed like they were in the kitchen/dining room, judging by the textbook-laden table Sabah had been sitting at. 

Seeing that had been a bit of a surprise, but I’d already caught Cass giggling at her phone and texting back and forth with the fashion designer ever since she’d visited the Sanctum, so it wasn’t too far-fetched for her to have stopped by while I was out being a responsible vigilante.

Honestly, I was just happy that the two girls became fast friends. They both need it.

With Cassie hanging out with Sabah, 084 was my primary contact when it came to keeping up to date on any new intel. I was still expecting news about the entourage transferring Hookwolf out of the Bay, after all. Any and all plans for Operation: Empire Culling relied on that information, and the sooner I knew more the sooner I could get preparations underway. I wasn’t the best strategist, but I refused to be outmaneuvered by fucking nazis.

“Talk to me, 084. What’ve ya’ll gotten on the transfer?” I murmured beneath my breath as I made my way down the silent hallway, surrounded by nothing but sterile white walls and the occasional beep of a dying fire alarm.

There was an almost imperceptible buzz of white-noise before the Pod’s tinny voice filtered into my ear.

“Emails between the Warden and Deputy Director Rennick were successfully intercepted and extracted sixty-five minutes and seventeen seconds ago, Master.”

Oh? My fingers began tapping a quiet melody against my thigh.

“And I’m just hearing ‘bout this?” I questioned casually, shoving my hands into the pocket of my overcoat. The tapping ceased.

“Rebuttal: You’ve had your communication device deactivated for the past thirty four minutes.”

My lips pulled up into a wry smile. “And the other thirty one minutes and seventeen seconds?”

084’s response came a second or two slower than the previous. “... This Pod was collaborating with Mistress and ‘Parian’ in the task of parsing visual and auditory data in preparation for future traini-”

“You were watching a movie with Cass and Sabah, weren’t you?” The wry smile was quickly shifting into a shit-eating grin.

“... Affirmative.”

Was it just me, or did I hear the tiniest tinge of shame in the Pod’s voice? That was… kinda adorable, in a weird way.

Honestly, I couldn’t find it in me to be upset about the news being delayed. It was true that I had been deafening the earpieces randomly throughout the night in order to stay focused on the events happening around me, and it wasn’t like I’d demanded that they stay tense and prepped to disseminate intel while I was out. It would’ve been different if this was the night where I went after the Empire, but it wasn’t, so…

“I’ll let it slide.” I chuckled, taking a hand out of my pocket and pressing it softly against the earpiece. “I’ll be back in another hour or two with our new guest, so make sure you two have the info from the emails consolidated and prepared for me, ‘ight?”

There was another buzz, the sound of Cassie whispering quickly in the background, a short pause, and then 084’s monotonous voice returned. “Mistress told me to say ‘yes daddy’, but this Pod is not a human baby. Response: The data will be printed out and sorted for maximum organizational efficiency. Good luck, Master.”

The door to Sherrel and Amy’s room was quickly coming into view, so I relaxed the grin that was taking over my newly sculpted face. “See you soon, homie.” I muttered, clicking the earpiece and quietly approaching the closed door.

I hadn’t pegged Cass for the ‘daddy’ type, but subby brats usually had a kink like that shoved somewhere in their kink list so maybe I had just been underestimating her this entire time. It was just another thing I’d introduce her to, sexually - which I probably shouldn’t be thinking about, considering I was about to enter a room with two fairly attractive women.

‘No boners, Jay! It’s gonna be awkward enough explaining why I suddenly became a fuckin’ Tumblr model after pissing.’

Breathe.

In.

Out.

Dirty, gaping assholes. Dirty, gaping assholes!’

Alright, boner gone.

I grabbed the door knob, breathed out one final time, and swung the door open without a second thought. “Yooo. The gas station was outta cigarettes, so I decided tooo- Holy shit.”

The buxom, fresh-faced blonde woman turned towards me, a clean and gleaming grin stretching wide across her plump pink lips. “Hey, big man! You won’t even believe what Mousy here managed to- holy fuck?!”

Amy silently gawked, glancing between the two of us with wide eyes.

I wasn’t often taken completely by surprise, especially with Hidden Intuition bolstering my natural insight and perception, but walking in and seeing the newly healed Sherrel had actually knocked me fully on my backfoot. I stared, willing my gaze to stay relatively respectful as it roved across her new appearance. She didn’t try to hide the way that she was disrespectfully doing the same.

She was the same woman I had stolen from the Merchants a scant hour or two ago, but much like my newest magical ability had pushed me into supermodel territory, Amy’s biomedical treatment saved the former addict from her washed-out crackwhore aesthetic and pushed her fully into ‘All-American beauty’ status. Tall and shapely, with a healthy glow to her previously waxy skin and a slowly growing smile, Sherrel looked like the poster woman for Sexy Mechanic Weekly.

Her hair was even cut shorter as well, though when I glanced towards the small pile of damaged yellow strands littering the floor I had a pretty good idea why. Some things just had to go.

Overall, the transformation was fucking…

“Incredible.” A quiet young girl’s voice pierced the silence.

I blinked, tearing my gaze away from Sherrel’s new appearance and looking over at the skulking Amy. At some point during my surreptitious leering, she had wandered closer to me, most likely curious about my new looks. Now she was practically invading my personal space, brown eyes narrowed and gleaming as she reached up to touch the smooth, clear skin on my face…

I grabbed her wrist, making sure my hand touched her robes and not her skin. “Woah, lil’ lady - wassup?”

“You.” she shot back, half-heartedly attempting to pull her wrist out of my grasp. I let her go without a struggle, and she yanked her hand back to her chest. “What happened to your- your… everything?! You were gone for ten frigging minutes; not exactly enough time to get cosmetic surgery done.” There was no suspicion in her voice - only genuine confusion and what sounded like… concern?

I raised my hands in a casual attempt to placate the mousy healer. “Y’know, I could spin a whole web of lies, try to play the whole ‘mysterious hero’ card-”

“I thought you said you didn’t like liars,” Amy interrupted, a small frown forming on her lips.

I smiled thinly. “Let me finish with my dramatics, sourpuss.”

“...Okay.”

“‘Preciate it. Now, as I was saying, while I could spi- actually, screw it, you fucked up the reveal. Truth is; my powers are pretty damn random with what they decide to toss at me, and today they decided that I wasn’t handsome enough, so…”

“Your superpowers decided to just turn you into Chocolate Dynamite? Ain’t that about a cunt - and here I thought I was gonna be the only one getting the bad bitch treatment tonight.” Sherrel, having recovered from her own surprise, decided to interject herself into the conversation. She walked towards us like a lioness stalking its prey - or maybe a jackal would be more apt. Her wide hips swayed with a renewed confidence that only clean white teeth and unblemished skin could give you.

When she stopped beside Amy, practically towering over the petite brunette, I saw that she was eyeing me with both heightened interest and barely-contained appreciation. A wide smile was on her face.

Amy shot Sherrel a cock-eyed glance at her vulgarity, pausing as if to say something, before she shook her head and faced towards me again. “Can’t say that I’ve ever heard of an ability that just makes you…” Her freckled face warmed up just a little bit, blood flushing red against her cheeks, before she shook her head violently. “Uh, anyways… whatever happened when you went to go piss is your business I guess. More importantly; I’ve done the best I can for Sherrel, physical health-wise. The mental stuff is kinda out of my hands.“

“Mental stuff? I’m right fuckin’ here, you know.”

Ignoring the blonde for a moment, I nodded, trying my best to show just how much I appreciated her assistance through our shared eye contact. Judging by the growing heat wafting from her face in small, invisible waves of Red Wind, I figured I showed it a bit too much. Either that or I accidentally smoldered instead. “You didn’t have to do anything in the first place, Panacea - so thanks. I mean that.”

I glanced over to an idly posing Sherrel and gave her a meaningful glare. “We mean that.”

She blinked, realizing belatedly what I was referring to, and grinned at the robed healer. “Shit yeah we do. You or him ain’t have to help me out like this, clean me up and get that shit purged outta my system. Thank you, truly…mama’s feelin’ like herself again, after all these years!”

Sherrel’s green eyes found me again, and her grin gained a salacious edge. “Can’t wait to see what the rest of the night has in store.”

Amy froze, the warmth in her cheeks cooling immediately at the Tinker’s badly-disguised words. I didn’t need Hidden Intuition activated to recognize that the sudden unamused scowl on her tired face probably wasn’t a good sign. ‘Uh oh…’

Warning bells weren’t going off though, so I doubted that we were at risk of being supernaturally lobotomized by an angry biostriker. It seemed like she was preparing herself to say something important, so I decided to take a step back and let it all play out.

I couldn’t handle everything for my minions- er, friends.

Barely a few seconds later, Amy rounded on Sherrel, her doe-like eyes glaring with an exhausted annoyance. “Sherrel, I cleaned no less than six diseases out of your body, cured a severe case of cardiomyopathy, healed an assortment of open and infected sores covering your arms and legs, reversed the decomposition and wrinkling effects the methamphetamine abuse was having on your skin, and flushed I don’t know how many ounces of tar-like goop out of your-”

The blonde woman’s eyes practically bugged out of her skull at the sudden avalanche of words, embarrassment and shame filling her face. “WOAH, stop! I get it, holy shit I get it! Damn Mousy, you don’t gotta air out all my dirty laundry!” she blanched, her panicked hands going to cover the smaller girl’s mouth only to hesitate and stop at the last second.

Amy huffed, blowing a frizzy strand of brown hair out of her eyes. “I’ll stop as long as you realize that this wasn’t some ‘bad bitch’ transformation done to make you feel better about yourself. Or to get laid. Like Aval-... he said, you were in horrible condition. As in, a few more years and I wouldn’t have been surprised if necrosis got to you before I did. I don’t…” She bit her lip and narrowed her eyes, small hands bunching up the white fabric at her hips. “I don’t do this type of treatment often for a reason, Sherrel. Don’t make me regret healing you by going back and making the same mistakes.”

…

Heaviness. The air was heavy with the weight of Amy’s words, and I found myself nodding my head in agreement. Nabbing Squealer away from the pitiful Merchants was an easy way to get a potentially useful Tinker on my side, but while I had no problem putting her on the pathway to success, I refused to carry her down the pathway like a drugged-out baby with no sense of responsibility or willpower. I believed in helping those struggling with drug abuse if they showed a willingness to work through it themselves, but I didn’t have the time or altruistic mindset to babysit them.

Either she’d nut up and become greater, or she’d sputter out and get kicked to the curb. Those were her options.

The Grimoire, peeking its eldritch head in for a brief moment, nudged forward a mote of light - this one being a magical bow that shot droves of arrows when fired. Cool, for sure, but not worth over half of my collected charge.

I pushed it away.

Sherrel had gone completely silent after Amy’s little speech, much like the healer herself once she finished speaking. They stared at each other now; Sherrel’s face ashen and stricken, and Amy’s stoic and weary. The tinker’s hands were twitching, not dissimilar to when she was going through withdrawals earlier in the night, and I subtly prepared myself to teleport between the two if she decided to be a dumbass and attack Amy for her truthful words.

Hidden Intuition began whispering in my ear, quiet and unobtrusive in its low-powered state.

Sherrel is sad. Sherrel feels self-disgust. Sherrel is angry. Sherrel is tense.

I narrowed my eyes, beginning to take a step forward and say something, but Amy’s eyes suddenly cut to mine. She subtly shook her head, a tenseness in her brow.

I stopped and looked at Sherrel again. The woman was gritting her teeth now, but there was something different in her stance. Something stubborn.

Sherrel is resolute. Sherrel is resolute because she wants to be better. Sherrel is scared. Sherrel is scared because she doesn’t know if she can be better. Sherrel is-

I pushed the insights to the back of my mind, and pushed Force of Spirit forward. It washed over me like ice-cold water, and I felt my tongue heat up pleasantly in my mouth.

“It’s alright to be scared, you know.” I spoke quietly in the long stretch of tense silence, causing both pairs of eyes to shoot towards me. Amy looked pensive, but Sherrel’s gaze was almost wild. Desperate.

“I-I ain’t scared, I’m just- I’m just- fuck! I’m just fucked! I don’t know if I can do this right, if I can even handle tryin’ everything again. What if I fuck it up?” Her voice was shrill, almost ear-piercingly so, but I easily ignored the volume and pitch in favor of moving closer.

Her eyes followed me like a frightened animal, but she didn’t move away.

“You are scared, dumbass.” I repeated with a small, mirthless grin. “We’re all scared, all the fucking time in this city. In this world. You’re scared because you don’t wanna relapse. I’m scared ‘cause I don’t wanna lose. She’s scared,” I gestured to Amy, who flinched at my sudden attention, “Because she can’t understand that she doesn’t owe this world shit. We’re all scared, Sherrel - and that fear won’t ever cease to exist until we’re all dead and buried.”

Sherrel’s grip on me was desperate and distantly painful, which meant that she was probably digging her fingers into my arms with all of her strength. I had barely even noticed when she lunged the short couple feet between the two of us and grabbed hold of me.

“Then what the hell do I do? How- how do I keep going, keep tryin’, when I’m just scared of fucking up all the time?! What if that fear m-makes me go back to the shit I was doin’ before? What if I wake up with these clean new teeth and this fresh new skin and I want a hit so bad that I fuckin’ vomit?” Her grip loosened slightly, and she sagged against my chest.

“I’ve quit before, boss man. I’ve quit a lot of times. You saw where I ended up anyway.” There was defeat in her tone. In her eyes. In the way that she tugged on my sleeves desperately, as if asking me to take on her burdens for her.

I had never experienced addiction myself.

My mother, may her soul rest in peace, had been an abuser of drugs - first starting with weed, and then nicotine, and then shit like molly and benzos. She was a victim of bipolar and clinical depression, and though my childhood was… rough, to say the least, she had done her absolute best to raise me and my siblings into decent young men and women in spite of her many, many pitfalls. In the end, she managed to become clean and fight against the terrible path laid before her by her younger self, and her last years were spent happy and clear-headed with the people she loved.

There had been nothing easy about the road she traveled. There had been nothing pleasant about recovery and rehab. The truth of the matter was that life was hard, painful, it fucking sucked, and a lot of the times it was just blatantly unfair. Boo fucking hoo.

That didn’t mean you stopped fighting.

“You don’t get over addiction by just stopping,” I said quietly, my voice rough from a sudden burst of emotion that I couldn’t even begin to figure out right now. I cleared my throat, but it didn’t go away. “That ain’t how it works. You recover, get stronger, and fight against all of that shit inside of you by making a new life. Meeting new people. Experiencing new things. That’s what I’m offerin’ you. You can stay scared, stay fearful - matter of fact, use that fear as motivation. But if you stay the same Sherrel as before, stay in the same lane as before, you’re just gonna end up back in the same hole you started in.”

My volume began to rise as I spoke, and it was only after I saw Amy staring dazedly from the corner that I realized that I was unconsciously talking to the both of them, not just the teary-eyed, shivering blonde woman in my arms. Since when did I become such a fucking sap?

“You’re not alone in this. I already told ya before - I got you. You stay with me, rage against your own fuckin’ weaknesses every step of the way, and I’ll make sure you win. No matter what. ‘Ight?”

I could feel her heart beating rapidly between us, in time with her rapid breathing.

“... Yeah.”

After her muttered response, there was silence for a full thirty seconds, where Sherrel simply shivered against my chest and breathed in and out in deep, shuddering breaths. I didn’t have my Second Sight activated, so when Amy stiffly made her way around the middle of the room where we were standing and exited out the door, I wasn’t too sure what to think. I hadn’t expected all of…this to transpire. Considering the fact that Sherrel was a brand new recovering drug addict, maybe I should have expected her miniature melt down, but it had been years since I had to deal with my mom’s fits and I was rusty.

I could only hope that I’d handled it decently enough. Superior Being was supposed to make other human beings more liable to follow and obey me, in addition to Force of Spirit bolstering my natural charisma, but how effective those two together would be in regards to motivating and helping out a panicking drug-abuse victim was hard to quantify.

Thinking about it, maybe something in my words helped out Amy, too. Her thing with Vicky was pretty much the equivalent to addiction, right?

Sniffle.

I glanced down at the blondie currently using my new shirt as a snot-rag, and she offered a watery, gleaming white grin as an apology. “Heh, sorry ‘bout that big guy. Guess it’s not very lady-like to wipe your nose on ya boss’s new clothes, eh?”

I shrugged my shoulders, smirking dryly. “Go ‘head and snot away - just keep it off the skin. Can’t switch that as easily as I can switch out jackets.”

She chuckled, reluctantly pulling herself out of my arms and patting down my sleeves and collar. There actually wasn’t much in the way of snot or tears on my shirt, but the gesture seemed to make her happy so I inwardly shrugged my shoulders and allowed her to have her little mother bird moment.

When Sherrel finished making me ‘presentable’, the blondie took a step back and peered down at my shoes, wrapping her arms around her bare midriff self-consciously. I glanced down as well, just to make sure that my shoes weren’t untied or something, but nope - everything seemed in order.

Hidden Intuition made a farting noise in my ear, and I blinked. ‘Right. She’s embarrassed.’

I hated the way my brain worked sometimes.

“So…” I murmured, raising an eyebrow.

“...”

“Listen,” I sighed, taking a step back and crossing my arms over my chest. “I meant what I said - there’s no awkward, ‘spur of the moment’ bullshit happening here. You work for me, you work with me, and I got you. That’s all there is to it.”

“Is it now?” Sherrel ventured, looking up to meet my eyes. Naked hope lit up her eyes, arms tightening around her lean stomach as she stared at me. “I believe ya, I really do. Don’t know why I believe in you this much, but… I’m willin’ to put it all on the line for whatever crazy shit you got going on. Gotta be a better life than what I was livin’ before.”

My lips quirked up, and when I began making my way towards the exit, Sherrel immediately moved to follow. “Yeah? Well, we’ll see how good you feel about everything once I hit you with the game plan. Panacea only healed your body - I don’t think she gave you big ass balls.”

I held the door open for the woman, and she side-eyed me with a challenging grin as she moved past me into the hallway.

When I stepped out right after, closing the door behind me, her finger prodded my chest firmly. Not hard or jarring, just firm.

“Oho, I’ve got balls, darlin’. Big ‘uns, too. You get me the shit I need to start working on some of these bitchin’ new ideas jumping around in my brain, and I’ll show you what I can do. Me and my babies are gonna kick ass!” There was no innuendo behind her words for once, only a cocky, sure confidence that seemed genuine and real - like she knew, without a shadow of doubt, that her ‘babies’ were going to be impressive.

And I… didn’t doubt it. At all, actually. She made some pretty baller shit while high out of her mind and dealing with several physical defects. I could only imagine what she’d be capable of with magic and resources behind her.

“Looking forward to it,” I replied, easy and simple. Her finger lingered on my chest for a couple seconds longer, the mechanic’s eyes tracing the shell of my face, before she let out a low breath and rapped her knuckles against my sternum. If I was a lesser man, it may have made me wheeze a little bit, but the only reaction it got out of me was a bemused blink.

Sherrel’s last response was a cheeky wink before she sashayed past, heading the wrong way down the hall.

Nothing more needed to be said after that.

After grabbing her by the collar of her jacket and turning her around, we  headed back towards the main lobby of the hospital.  Sherrel was a bit nervous in spite of the bravado that she wore around her heart like armor, but my steps were unhurried and casual. I wasn’t worried about being seen or caught out by the night shift nurses. Call it arrogance or complacency, but the ‘threat’ of a few muggle 30-somethings with crow’s feet throwing a hissy fit about my trespassing just didn’t concern me enough to bother with illusion magic.

Getting in had required a small bit of Aethyr manipulation. Getting out just required confidence and the ability to act like you knew where the fuck you were going.

A couple minutes into our walk, the Grimoire decided to come in clutch with another freebie - this one being a relatively simple ability that allowed me to enhance my melee or weapon attacks with mana in order to increase their destructive capabilities. A basic technique through and through, but combined with the ludicrous reserves of magic I had rampaging through my core nowadays I was sure that Magic-Enhanced Attacks would be seeing plenty of use. Just another thing I needed to practice with.

Fortunately, with that little moment of excitement over, we didn’t run into any other interesting things on our way back to the elevator. The maternity ward was on the third floor of the hospital, and while I could have spent extra time searching for the stairwell… Well, I was kinda lazy and didn’t see the need. Elevators were useful.

That was probably for the best, since the person who greeted us when the elevator’s doors opened was…

“Panacea?”

I took a step back, almost bumping into Sherrel who grunted out an annoyed ‘watch it’, but the short healer didn’t take my silently offered path out of the elevator. A bit shaky and out of breath, she clutched something in the folds of her draping sleeves, staring up at me with indiscernible emotions battling in her eyes. Her body language was nervous and stiff, a telltale sign that she was getting ready to say or do something that made her feel uncomfortable or awkward.

When her hand moved and I caught a glimpse of her phone screen - a picture of her scowling and some super hot blonde chick, Glory Girl, grinning at the camera - my mind subconsciously put the clues together and came to a couple of conclusions. Either she left the room and had a change of heart about everything, hence the phone and a probable call to the proper authorities, or she… wanted my number?

For some reason?

My eyebrows raised.

“A-Avalon,” she said quietly, almost like she was trying to keep my identity a secret. It was pretty cute. I barely even had a ‘secret identity’, and it wasn’t like I was seriously trying to live an actual double life. At this point the mask was mainly for aesthetics.

“Panny.” I intoned again, giving her a wry smile.

“Sherrel!” My minion called over my shoulder, looking awfully amused at the uncomfortable situation happening in front of her. I snorted and pushed her back with an elbow.

“Ugh, smartasses,” she grumbled, shooting the two of us a flinty, half-amused glare. “Listen, I just clocked out of my shift; they don’t like me working past ten PM on school days, anyway, and I wanted to ask you something…”

Panacea trailed off, the awkwardness in her stance growing.Before she could muster up whatever courage was flagging in her chest to continue, the elevator made a loud dinging noise and began closing right in front of her face.

“Shit!” She flinched, eyes widening and hand reaching out in a delayed attempt to halt the built-in sensors, but I slid inside and yanked Sherrel in by the wrist before the doors could shift more than a few inches.

Having significantly heightened reflexes and magically-enhanced dexterity made avoiding elevator incidents a breeze.

“Woof, how ‘bout a warning next time?!” Sherrel exclaimed, staggering to the side and holding onto the only railing in the elevator.

“My bad.” I chuckled, unrepentant, before looking back over to Amy. “Anyways, you were sayin’ something before the elevator got all sassy…?”

“R-right,” she breathed, shaking her head and stepping away from the doors. There was a brief second where the elevator rattled and began moving, but Amy seemed pretty steady on her feet - probably due to constant flights with her superman-ass sister. “Right. I, er, wanted to talk to you before you two left the hospital.”

“Just him?” Sherrel pouted, crossing her arms beneath her perky chest and sneering. The expression was so exaggeratedly fake that she broke it almost immediately, a grin shining through. “Can’t say I blame ya, Mousy. Guy’s a fuckin’ stud-”

“-ies show that one of the most sincerest forms of respect,” I interrupted, giving Sherrel a bemused glance, “Is shuttin’ the fuck up and letting the cute chick with freckles speak her piece.”

The mechanic clammed up, though the grin on her face didn’t diminish.

“Continue.” I smirked crookedly at Amy, and she turned from giving Sherrel a squinty-eyed glare to glaring at me, though the twitching of the corner of her lips and the familiar crimson creeping up her cheeks robbed the look of any sort of intimidation.

“Wow, giving me permission to speak. Thanks,” she muttered, finally smoothing her soft, bipolar little lips into a facsimile of an unimpressed frown. “And my ‘freckles’ aren’t cute, for your information. They’re called ephelides, and they’re the byproduct of me having an abusive relationship with UV rays. Not cute.” Her grumbling voice turned almost shy towards the end of her little sciencey rant, and I found my smirk growing in spite of myself.

“You often drop mini biology lessons when someone gives you a compliment?” I wondered aloud.

Her unimpressed frown was starting to border into pouting territory.

“When the compliments are both unrelated to my job and incorrect? Yeah, I do. My freckles are not cute.”

I tilted my head. “I wasn’t talking ‘bout your freckles, I was talking ‘bout your face. But now that you mention it…” I lowered my sunglasses and peered closer at the flushing healer, my statuesque form practically dwarfing her mousy body. It wasn’t even on purpose, considering the cramped space of the relatively small elevator.

She froze at my close proximity, and I had the pleasure of hearing the way that her breath caught in her throat - a little hiccup of air that sounded more like a strangled squeak than an actual gasp. Amy’s nervousness was different from Cassie’s heated, arousing brattiness. If Cassie’s submissive behavior was akin to a black cat batting its little paws, butt wagging and ears twitching, Amy was comparable to a spooked, wide-eyed doe in the face of a playful predator.

And yeah, the tiny little brown spots of melanin dotting across her face was adorable.

I had to stop myself from enjoying the moment too much. Was I fucked up? Maybe a little bit.

“...What?” She breathed, wide brown eyes moving like pinballs as they studied my expression - or what small amount of emotion was even on display. Her back pressed against the cool metal wall of the elevator without her even realizing.

I smiled. “Nothin’. Your freckles are just cute too.”

My eyes narrowed, and I peered closer.

Amy is confused. Amy is flustered. Amy is nervous. Amy is scared. Amy is hopeful-

DING.

As soon as the elevator doors opened I backed away from Amy and moved into the hallway, smoothly maneuvering around an older-looking brown-haired nurse wearing pale blue scrubs. Sherrel, with a broad grin and a mysterious twinkle in her eyes, followed mere moments after. She straight up ignored the nurse, who stared after us with befuddlement and surprise.

“Oh! Er, excuse me but what are you doing back here? I told you before, at the front desk, that you’re not-”

“They’re personal patients of mine. I’m walking them out before I head home.” The healer’s brisk, only slightly out-of-breath voice cut the lady off.

Amy hurried out of the elevator, sweat beading her brow and a confusing expression of mixed emotions on her flushed, freckled face. Slowly walking backwards as I was, ignoring Sherrel’s bemused stare, I was able to see just how tense the air became between the two of them. The nurse clearly held some sort of grudge or dislike against the young healer, and Amy… Well, she just straight up didn’t like the woman. Probably for good reason since the woman was a bitch.

How dare she do her job and keep shady men like me out of private locations?

“I see,” the nurse said blandly, looking down her nose at the much shorter girl. “I take it you already clocked out then, Panacea?”

“Yep,” Amy responded with a popped P, equally as bland. Her flush had already dissipated, cooling down into her normal fair tone, and her eyes were like lasers with how they dead-eyed the nurse. “I’ll see you next week, Rosie - I put in a request for the 4 PM shift tomorrow. You don’t work those early hours, right?”

The words were polite enough, but the underlying meaning of ‘I don’t fuck with you’ was sharp and catty. I let out a low ‘ooooh’, quiet enough to only be picked up if you listened for it or had decent enough hearing.

Judging by the hastily stifled smirk, Amy heard it.

Rosie clicked her tongue, hazel eyes narrowing imperceptibly. A fake smile formed on her lips. “I don’t. I’d say good luck with the afternoon rush, but I doubt you need it. Being a cape and all.”

Oof, backhanded as fuck. I expressly didn’t make an ‘ooooh’ noise this time. Maybe I was a bit biased, but Rosie was a bitch so fuck her. Amy healed my mini- er, Sherrel, not this dried up wine aunt.

Amy, in her defense, didn’t let anything show on her placid face. She merely nodded her head and turned away, walking towards Sherrel and I. “Thanks, I’ll handle everything. Don’t worry, I’m used to doing that here.” I couldn’t see what expression she threw over her shoulder, but considering the sneer that appeared on Rosie’s face when Amy turned back around to us, I doubted it was anything less than infuriating.

The middle-aged woman walked briskly into the elevator, jabbing the buttons, and Amy settled into step between Sherrel and I. As we crossed the threshold into the nearly empty lobby of the hospital, Amy let out a slow, shuddering breath. A tenseness that had seemed so natural and constant in the girl’s shoulder eased out just a little.

That is, until Sherrel threw her arm around them in a half-hug.

“A lil’ bit of in-house melodrama, huh?” She stage-whispered in that high-pitched drawl of hers, looking down to smile at the high-strung healer. “You stuck it to that bitch pretty good! I, personally, would’ve tossed a lil’ kick at her bony ass, but…”

“Fighting over something as petty as ‘workplace rivalries’ is stupid,” Amy’s response was as dry as rice crackers, and the girl shrugged Sherrel’s surprisingly toned arm away. “And don’t hug me, Sherrel - I was just fingers-deep in your gallbladder half an hour ago.”

If the mechanic was offended by the shortness, her smile definitely didn’t show it.

“Somehow I don’t think kicking a nurse’s ass in the hospital woulda went over too well,” I chuckled lightly, resting my hands in my pockets. “That was the same woman who refused to page you, said you were ‘preoccupied with other patients’.”

The automatic doors opened at our approach, revealing the misty darkness of late night Brockton Bay. It was colder than it was earlier, and I could feel the brisk coolness even through my new coat. Sherrel was immediately shivering once we fully stepped outside.

“Most of the staff’s not like that. She and a few of her friends are just… bitchy. They don’t like the attention I get whenever I’m on shift here, as if I asked to be a city-wide microcelebrity.” Amy shook her head, cheeks and nose becoming warm once again as the cold wind began smacking her in the face. “Shit it’s cold…”

“T-t-tell me about i-it!” Sherrel’s new white teeth clacked together loudly as she began rubbing her arms through her short yellow jacket. “Fuck! I’m gonna walk a lil’ bit, try to get some heat circulating. Yell for me when you’re done makin’ kissy faces, boss man.”

Before I could say anything, the shivering woman breathed out a haze of cool white mist and began power-walking towards the other end of the barren parking lot. She kinda looked like one of those fitness moms from the back with her arms pumping like that - the ass she had was definitely MILFy enough to qualify. If I had to rate it on Pixar MILF level of scaling, I’d have to give it a smooth ‘Aunt Cass’ outta ten.

A clearing of a throat brought my attention back down to Amy, and the red-nosed girl gave me a sneer even as she folded her arms into the sleeves of her robes. “Can’t even let it rest for a few minutes, can you?” Her voice and face was deadpan.

I blinked dumbly, mind still distracted by the thought of Pixar MILFS. “What?”

She sighed and smirked, as if I’d just said the dumbest thing in the world. “Nothing. Just- can you, uh, take out your phone?”

Right, the whole phone thing that she had awkwardly pussyfooted around back in the elevator. Since she was clocked out and obviously not planning to call the cops, the only other reason was pretty damn obvious to me now. I was… not not happy about it. She was a pretty chill chick - a bit uptight and grumpy, but considering the emotions I had taken a glimpse at before, I couldn’t really blame her.

That didn’t mean I wouldn’t tease her, though. I wouldn’t be me otherwise.

“You’re not gonna, like, boot gang my shit and run home to your superhero fam, right?”

There was a cheeky little grin on my face that showed that I was being intentionally facetious. The Grimoire peeked its head in, attempting to wrangle a small mote of light that I got a distinct impression of ‘smoke-bombs’ from, and I internally brushed it away.

Amy glowered. “Why the hell would I - … what does that even mean, Avalon?”

I slowly began pulling my smartphone out. The screen was filled with more text notifications - from both Cassie and Sabah. “‘Boot gang’ is just dumb slang for ‘stealing’. I’m tryna make sure this whole ‘sweet and sour’ healer shtick ain’t a ruse to ensnare and rob me.”

“Well that’s stupid; I already have a phone, mine’s newer than yours, and I am not a thief. I just wanted to ask you something. About your phone. Or, shit - not ask, but tell you something and you could decide if you wanted to say yes or no. Damn it, Vicky usually handles this part…”

She was stalling again.

I peeked down at Amy through my lashes, thankful that my gaze was mostly hidden. She was side-eyeing my phone hard, trying not to make it obvious that she was both interested in the little popups and satisfied that I had actually taken it out. Her hands gripped her own mobile device tightly.

Amy is hopeful. Amy is hopeful because she wants to get to know you better. Amy wants to get to know you better because your words gave her hope. Amy is nervous. Amy is nervous because she doesn’t know how to ask you for your number-

She was scared of taking initiative, eh? I could work with that.

The words began leaving my mouth before my brain could fully parse them.

“So how ‘bout this - we avoid any awkwardness or bad vibes by me straight up-” I flicked my contact over to her phone, and she blinked and looked down as it pinged, asking for confirmation. “-doing that, and then, before we freeze our balls off in the cold, I-”

“I don’t have balls,” Amy muttered distractedly, still looking down at the confirmation button on her phone.

“-walk you home, make awkward eye contact with your mom, avoid her pointed questions, and then fly off into the su- uh, moon. How does that sound?”

There was a pause.

Amy clicked the button on her screen, accepting my contact info, before looking back up at me. The redness on her cheeks were partially from the cold night air, for sure, but I wasn’t a dense teenager anymore… she was definitely blushing. The freckles just made it even more apparent.

“... Okay,” she said, a small, brittle smile forming on her lips. “But just to be clear - this is a ‘friend’ thing, right? I’m not expecting or, er, wanting anything more than that. We’ve just met, and I don’t think I’m ready for anything like that right now anyway. I just want to try meeting new people. Making new friends.”

“Say less,” I raised my hands, my smile not shifting in the slightest. “Call it whatever you want - platonic, professional, egregiously sexual. We didn’t hold hands or anything crazy, but intimate eye contact is considered a crime before marriage in some countries.” My brows wiggled, and Amy snorted. Loudly.

“That sounds like a better policy than whatever America has going on. I think I’ve seen at least three homeless people having sex publicly in the past month.” She shuddered, and it was honestly a toss-up whether it came from a place of disgust or just lack of warmth.

I chuckled. “They’re homeless, Panny - it’s not like they have anywhere else to fuck.” I put more emphasis on the swear word, and Amy shot me a disgusted side-eye.

“Ugh, why’d you say it like that?”

“What? Panny?”

“Don’t be obtuse, you know what I’m talking about. And don’t call me Panny. ”

“Mmm…”

I tilted my head past Amy, ignoring her prodding, doe-eyed stare, and quickly spotted Sherrel in the darkness of the parking lot. She was still moving in circuits around the area, but now she was doing full-on lunges as she worked to keep her blood pumping. She wasn’t so far away from us that I couldn’t spot the wide, sweaty smile on her face - the woman was definitely enjoying her new physical health.

I could only imagine the clarity of self that came with a supernaturally-empowered detox. Outside of the lingering self-destructive tendencies, she must have felt fucking fantastic. I barely knew her outside of our conversations today and my memories of Worm, but something was moving inside of my chest. Either it was heartburn from the pizza pockets I had earlier, or… I was feeling some form of pride. Not a familial or romantic pride, but something akin to a teacher and a student? A boss and a worker?

A master and a slave?

‘Nah, nah, nah - that’s the horniness speakin’, Jason. Don’t let it win.’

“What’s her deal, anyway?”

Amy had turned to watch the woman’s weird little exercise/warm-up routine, and the question sounded genuinely curious. Maybe a little pointed, with a dusting of suspicion, but mainly curious. I’d take that.

“I helped her out of a bad situation, gave her a new lease on life. I just hope she takes it seriously.” I replied quietly, watching Sherrel almost bust her ass doing a cartwheel in heeled boots. When she barely avoided eating the pavement, she slowly stood back up, brushing her palms off on her shorts and peeking back at us.

Almost in sync, we both waved.

The blonde bombshell blanched.

“She was a criminal, wasn’t she?” Amy’s muttered inquiry was more of a statement than a question. I glanced down at her, but she wasn’t looking at me - she was still staring across the parking lot, where Sherrel was back up and doing slow lunges in our direction. The healer’s face was unreadable.

“Yeah.” My finger began tapping against my thigh.

She exhaled a long and drawn-out sigh. I didn’t say anything more - no defenses, no explanations, no excuses. I hadn’t lied at any point during this whole fiasco. Stretched the truth or kept some things in the dark, sure, but I hadn’t outright lied. I wasn’t ashamed of anything, either.

“She was really fucked up, Avalon. I don’t do brains whatsoever, so any damage to her prefrontal cortex, the destruction of myelin and glial cells, some of her central nervous system - those are things that I can’t fix or heal. It’ll have to happen naturally, or you’d have to take a look.”

“I know.”

“What if she relapses? Goes back to selling drugs, hurting people?” The monotonous delivery of her voice was fading, replaced by something more challenging, more judgemental.

“She won’t.” I glanced down again, and Amy was glaring up at me, a stubborn and frustrated look in her eyes.

“You don’t kno-”

“She won’t.” I repeated more firmly, the lax and casual tone of my voice lowering into something more sharp and serious. A wave of heat ran through my body, from my head to my toes, and I let out a sigh of my own. “I won’t let her. No one good helped Sherrel before me, and the ones who did decided to use and abuse her. She’s not perfect. Shit, I’m not perfect. But I believe that most people can change with a little help from those who believe in them, and I believe in her.”

My tone lightened, and a small, crooked smile dimpled my cheeks. “Call it a gut instinct… the same one that told me to send you my phone number.”

Amy didn’t respond, but the frustration in her gaze softened into something else. Before I could peer closer, get more of an insight into her emotions, Sherrel finally arrived in all of her sweaty, flushed glory. She was even sniffling.

“Holy shit, that was somethin’ else. Was gonna just warm myself up with some walkin’, and then I remembered how good it felt to do a lil’ exercise. Get that gluteus maximus all bouncy!”

She paused, glancing between the two of us, and her brows furrowed. “Somethin’ happen? He ain’t touch you inappropriately, right Mousy? ‘Cuz if he did, I call next-”

“Stop it, get some help.” I cut her off, digging into my pockets and nudging the Magic Mirror mote of light currently resting in my soul. When ‘lost’, certain items from the Grimoire returned to the place they originated from - me. And considering the fact that it was currently in the pocket of my Avalon costume, which was stored in a whole separate fucking dimension, I figured that the Grimoire would count it as missing. Judging by the feeling of cool glass against my palm, I figured correctly.

In order to use my loadouts effectively, I’d have to find some way to change that little feature, but until then…

I pulled out the small, gilded little pocket mirror, making sure not to look into it. “You’re freezin’ your tits off ‘cause of your ridiculously revealing outfit, right Sherrel?” I asked offhandedly, using my other hand to scroll through my contacts and start sending out a few texts to Cassie. Another ass pic, this one with Sabah in the background rolling her eyes with a smile, had me quickly moving my screen away from the others.

Heart emoji reaction, double click, save image to camera roll. Thank you.

Sherrel shrugged her shoulders, giving me a funny look. “A little bit less since you just burned me, ya jackass, but yeah I’m pretty cold. Why’d you think I started jogging around?”

“You also skinned your palms,” Amy commented like a disappointed mother, holding her pale hand out expectantly.

“Uh…”

The healer rolled her eyes. “Do I have permission to touch you?”

“Oh! Shit! Hell yeah.”

I saw a brief glimpse of flayed flesh and droplets of blood before Sherrel grinned and grabbed Amy’s outstretched hand with both of hers. There was a brief few seconds of silence and stillness, where Sherrel relaxed and sighed in relief, and then she was pulling her freshly healed hands back and rubbing them together. “Thanks, Mousy.”

“You’re welcome. And that’s not my name, unless you want me to start calling you ‘cow tits’.”

Sherrel snickered. “Think you can make ‘em lactate with those powers of yours?”

“... You’re a freaking perv.”

I had to cough in order to hide my own laughter.

“Ahem. Anyways, Sherrel - say hi to Cass and 084 for me, ‘ight? And don’t drink all the fuckin’ soda.”

The mechanic stared at me, mouth open. “...Boss man, what the fuck are you talking ‘bou- HEY!”

Sherrel yelped, scrambling to catch the ornate, expensive-looking glass mirror that I’d just tossed in her direction. Her reflexes weren’t bad at all, and after a couple of seconds of playing hot potato by herself she managed to hold it firmly in her freshly healed hands.

“The hell was that about?” She groused, looking down at the pretty mirror. Her eyes widened when she caught sight of herself in the reflection. “Hey, holy shit. I look good enough to fuck-”

WOMP.

There was a bright flash of blue light that forced Amy and I to look away, and then… Sherrel was gone.

Cassie, Pod 084, and Sabah, if she was still hanging out at the Sanctum, would be ready and waiting a respectable distance away from the spot I had long since established as my ‘spawn point’ for the Magic Mirror, which was in the middle of the Sanctum’s massive training room. I had warned Cass, via text, that she’d be showing up there relatively soon, and to ‘be on your best behavior’ since she’d be understandably startled.

‘I’m sure it’ll be fine!’

“Uh,” Amy swallowed, blinking her eyes rapidly to clear her vision. “What the fuck just happened? Where did cow- Sherrel go?”

“Magic,” I shrugged, flicking my head in the direction of the sidewalk. My voice lowered provocatively. “Wanna head to your place?”

She side-eyed me again, a wry smirk on her face. “Maybe not when you say it like that. And you didn’t answer my question, Avalon.”

I began walking backwards across the parking lot, muttering almost silently beneath my breath to activate my Second Sight. As soon as I could see through my second pair of eyes, my movement became more smooth and confident. “Just call me Jason,” I responded lightly, shoving my hands in my pockets again. The biting cold really wasn’t a fucking joke.

Amy slowly walked after me, her arms crossed and a quirk to her brow. “Alright, Jason, just call me Amy.” Her smirk twitched into a smile, and she sped up to keep pace. “Now spill. Was that mirror some sort of Tinkertech? I thought you were a Trump.”

“It’s aptly called the Magic Mirror, and it teleports whoever looks into it back to my crib.” I shrugged my shoulders again. “Tinkertech, though? Nahhh. It’s just magic, baby.”

She didn’t believe me when I said it wasn’t Tinkertech. At all. I could see it in the way that she rolled her eyes and blew a curly lock of frizzy brown hair out of her face. But she wasn’t pressing me about it, and that was good enough for me. I could only handle a certain amount of pushiness.

“Fine,” she said, gripping the sides of her robes in order to jog the rest of the distance between us. When she made it to my side, she let out a low huff and elbowed me lightly in the hip. I barely even felt the tap. “And that’s for not telling me that I was healing a criminal. I don’t regret it, she’s… nice, but next time just tell me.”

I whistled. “You mean the next time I bring an unhealthy and traumatized woman to your doorstep? That’s an awfully specific instance, Amy, I don’t know if I can-”

“You know what I mean, Jason!”

I laughed, twisting around on the balls of my feet so that I was facing the same way she was. The sidewalk was crumbled and dusty beneath our feets, and the street ahead looked as shady as all get out, but there were still cars moving to and fro and the streetlights weren’t completely dim. It would probably be an intimidating walk to the nearest bus stop, or wherever the Dallon Family Residence was.

“So,” I said as we walked in comfortable silence, glancing down at the petite brunette, “Where am I takin’ you, ma’am? This undercover hero is here to protect and serve.”

We were walking pretty close together, her left arm knocking and brushing against my right, and our shared body heat had practically shoo’d all of the cold away. Her nose had lost its bright red hue, and the subtle shivering had all but ceased. With her short, curly brown hair bundled around her freckled face and the dark circles beneath her eyes, I was getting the vibes of a particularly tired red panda.

“Heh, ‘undercover’? You know that your face is practically fully exposed beneath that tiny mask, right?”

“Point,” I nodded in amusement.

“And we’re going to the bus stop, aren’t we? I live on Captain’s Hill, near the edge of town. Had to take two cab rides to get to the hospital.” The tone Amy used was casual, flippant even, so the wide-eyed glance I tossed her way seemed exaggerated in response.

“What?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“That’s like an hour’s walk from here, two if you got bad ankles. How the hell do you get to school on time?”

Amy rolled her eyes. “If I’m going out, it’s usually because I’m with a blonde-haired speeding bullet named Glory Girl. How fast can you run?”

I shrugged. “Pretty fuckin’ fast.”

“Vicky can probably go double that.” Amy said simply, like it was a matter of fact. Considering when I  was in my human form I was a mage and not some brick with an Alexandria package, I couldn’t exactly refute the arrogant claim, but that didn’t mean I was happy about it.

“Ahem, you’re glazing.” I coughed into my fist, turning my head away.

“Excuse me? Did you just say that I’m ‘glazing’?”

She didn’t even know what the the saying meant yet she was getting offended. The sight of her cheeks growing rosy again forced a chuckle out of me.

“Yeah, pretty badly - it’s cool though. I’ll show you speed.”

“Wh-”

I peeled off to the left, twisting on the heel of my new shoes and coating my body in a thin layer of mana. There was a moment of weightlessness, where my body suddenly hovered off of the sidewalk and curled into itself, but it passed almost immediately and a second later I was landing back on my feet as Avalon, the Tarnished Hero, complete with badass costume and a mask that did jack shit to hide my identity. I still had to make my full title known outside of the PRT - they clearly weren’t trying to market me correctly.

“... Woah. What was all of that for?” Amy stared at me, wide-eyed and confused, before glancing around anxiously. Downtown wasn’t completely barren - there were still cars driving down the street, and the occasional stranger passed by with barely a glance, heads down and movement brisk, but it wasn’t like I necessarily gave much of a fuck. If I had family in this world, sure, but I was barely any better than a Case-53.

“A ride,” I grinned, moving over to the side of the road - the sidewalk was a bit too thin. “You ever flown on a winged serpent before, Panny?”

She blinked, gears whirring in her brain. It was like a bomb went off inside of her skull when something big clicked.

“No freaking way. You’re the Quetzalcoatl that’s been popping up online? Do you even realize how many religious arguments you’ve caused over the past week?!” Amy hissed, stepping closer and lowering her voice as if there was anyone around to even hear us. She seemed more curious and interested than anything else, though. She was practically vibrating as she clenched her robes and watched me.

“Some Merchant dude did call me a God before. Heh, maybe they’re right.” I replied, stretching my arms and cracking my back. Transforming always made my bones feel a bit tense.

The vibrating stopped, and Amy gave me an exaggeratedly disappointed stare. “I refuse to believe you’re that full of yourself.”

“If I’m my own biggest fan, the only weight I gotta carry on my back is the pressure of my own expectations.” I started doing half-squats in order to stretch out my hamstrings and wiggle my toes.

She paused, and her gaze turned annoyed. “That’s… actually very insightful and motivational. How can you say such deep things while being so ridiculous?”

I winked. “Make that your senior quote, say Avalon the Tarnished God-King Wizard said it to you in a moment of affectionate fragility.”

“Yeah, I don’t think I will. I don’t think I’ll do any of that, actually.”

“Your loss, lil’ panda. Stand back real quick.”

Her face slackened. “...Little-”

I touched the magical power inside of me, the mana that roiled and purred like an infinite number of predators calling my name. It responded immediately, running through every inch of my body, pulling my human body inside and pushing out a larger, more majestic form.

In a flash of golden and white energy, I was once again the feathered serpent of yore, black wings spread proudly like a bald eagle. With a body twelve feet in length, my transformation had me practically inches away from Amy’s shell shocked face when I ‘kneeled’ - that is, bent my lithe upper body down towards the sidewalk.

“Wow.”

For once, the apathetic mask had completely splintered away from Amy’s face, leaving her looking surprisingly young and innocent with her mass of freckles, reddening button nose, gaping mouth, and wide, doe brown eyes. I just could not imagine the girl in front of me as the absolute monster she’d become in the future. The same girl who defiled her sister and ended up in the fucking Birdcage. It just refused to connect in my brain, like hearing Barry White’s voice come out of fucking Justin Bieber.

I wouldn’t let it happen.

“Can I…” 

Her hand froze midway to my plumage and hesitated. She wanted to touch the array of rainbow-like feathers along my neck, that much was obvious, but she was still holding herself back from ‘misusing’ her powers. Still being the cautious and rigid healer. That tenseness in her shoulders had returned, the stiffening of her posture. Even now, her mind was probably in conflict with itself, a mix of her Shard wanting data on this new, mysterious lifeform, her professional curiosity wanting to know how it all ticked, and her girlish wonder just wanting to touch pretty things.

Amy is nervous. Amy is tense. Amy is amazed. Amy really wants a ride.

Amy needed to relax and have some fun… and in that moment, I knew just what to do to make this evening memorable for her. I just needed to get the right vibe going...

“N-never mind, I guess. Were you planning to grip me by the shoulders, or- WOAH!”

Before she could lower her hand, I palmed my comparatively massive head against her hand and body, gently flicking her up and over my head with only the smallest of effort - slim though I may be, my serpentine form was absolutely corded with muscle fiber, something she was probably realizing since her arms were wrapped halfway around my neck.

A moment later, and I was soaring straight towards the dark, depressing clouds.

WOOSH.

“Avalon, you- holy shit, how do you even fly?! How are your bones not breaking? They’re hollow, like a bird’s, but the body is too muscular and large to support them!” She was practically having to scream over the sound of wind being sliced and battered by my massive wings. I could feel her body, shivering against the cold and pressed tightly against my back.

Azyr, the Blue Wind of Magic, was reachable even in my alternate form. The Winds were simply present, at all times, and up here in the twinkling night sky, Azyr reigned supreme. It was almost child’s play to coax it around Amy’s huddled body, causing the chill and bite of the more mundane wind to bend and flow around her form like water.

With the senses of a Quetzalcoatl, I heard her easily when she sat up and murmured to herself in confusion. “What… the wind’s gone?”

I slowed my flight to a much tamer forty miles per hour, if I had to approximate. My body moved in slow, long shimmies, like a wave flowing across the ocean. “It is. I need you to be able to use your ears.”

Amy couldn’t understand me, of course. My voice came out loud and melodious, a bird-like trill that lingered in the air.

She snickered. “You know that I can’t understand you, right?”

“Yep.”

“I’m guessing you did something to stop the wind buffeting. It’s… nice. Being able to see everything from so high up, see the stars. Whenever I rode with Vicky, I had to cover my face with my scarf and hide, yet here…”

I heard her shifting, probably looking around at the clouds and the stars above. A quiet sigh escaped her mouth.

“I almost don’t want to look down and see that city. I know that you’re taking me home, and that I’ll have to head inside and deal with everything and everyone again, but for now…”

It almost seemed like she was talking to herself and me. I didn’t say anything, not wanting to interrupt what sounded like a small amount of weight being lifted off of her chest. Not all of it - not nearly enough, but just a little.

“... Yeah, for now… this is nice.”

I waited a moment, just in case there was more she wanted to say, but no other words left her mouth. Her limited well of introspective thoughts must’ve run dry. ‘Well, this is about as good of a time as any.’

Originating from the back of my head, a beautiful, nostalgic song began playing.

Amy jumped, thankfully not harsh enough to risk falling off of my back and plummeting to her doom. “Wha- …no! No fucking way you’re doing this right now, Jason. Y-you, heh, you are such a freaking unfair dork. Walt Disney did not die so that you could steal one of his most popular hits.”

Without looking at her facial expressions I couldn’t peer closer into her reaction, but the emotions in her giggling voice was unmistakable. Embarrassment, awe, shock, maybe a little bit of cringe…

But, louder than all of those? Joy. The first time I heard it from the grumpy little healer. The realization had my serpentine face twisting into a smug, fanged grin.

A few moments later, as Jasmine was starting her second verse, Amy’s fingers tightened slightly in my plumage, as if asking for my attention. When she spoke again, there was a shaking to her voice - one that couldn’t have come from the cold breeze, considering it was being deflected by the Aethyr.

“Jason, I know that you’re busy and probably have ‘hero’ things going on tonight, but…”

She paused mid-sentence, and I exhaled a puff of hot air out of my nostrils. “Speak your piece, woman.”

“Sorry. Can we just… take the long way around? Listen to more Earth Aleph music?”

For her sake, I didn’t linger on the very real note of desperation in her tone, one that bordered on begging. Even without seeing her face, Hidden Insight had enough contextual clues from both my memories and the earlier insights to come to an accurate conclusion.

Amy is happy. Amy is touched. Amy really does not want to go home.

… Eh, what was another hour or two?

___________________________________

Perks Accepted:

Magic-Enhanced Attacks (Free): Need a weapon to hit harder? Need your fist to absolutely break through something? Want to show off to someone? This is where you’ll look. By enhancing your blows or weapon with mana, you can make the blows or strikes inflict more damage, and letting you strike with more force than before.

Blessing of the Wood (100 CP): Being an intermediary to spirits is no easy task, jumper, and there’s always the possibility that your enemies may strike when you are the most vulnerable. Whenever you find yourself asleep, in a trance, or otherwise incapacitated, you’ll be guaranteed that your physical body will come to no harm until you wake up. This doesn’t mean that trouble will not find you, in fact, it’s entirely possible you’ll be locked away and be prepared for butchering, but at the very least your aggressors will have the decency to wait until you wake up.

Infusion (300 CP): You have the ability to infuse raw power into an object, either as it is being made or one that already exists, and cause it to develop and express magical qualities. The more power is put into this process the greater the magical qualities that will emerge as a result. However, the effect generated is semi-random, suited to the target object but otherwise unpredictable, and can only be slightly directed if the power is flowed into the object during its creation. An object can benefit from this a limited number of times and handle a limited amount of power before it cannot hold more and crumbles. The better the quality of the object, the more it can handle. It is possible you could learn to direct this power with time and practice, but such a thing will likely take years, or possibly decades, of practice even for those that learn at accelerated rates.

Author’s Note: Here’s a very large chapter. I didn’t want to cut the visit to the hospital into too many parts, but I had so much to get through that just kept flowing, so I decided to just make it all into a huge chapter. The last two perks he accepted just wouldn’t fit into the narrative organically, so just assume that he accepted them at some point during the magical serpent ride with Amy.

Next chapter will be the aftermath of Jason’s actions tonight, and prep-work for the Empire attack! The Empire’s downfall, and Coil’s imminent downfall, are going to be two very large events for this Arc so be prepared. Some spicy action coming soon.