"How did those two get the opportunity to, uh, do it?" I ask The Voice while unwrapping the burger I bought from a fast food place and taking a seat on an empty bench in the park near where the hideout is.

The Voice rasps with amusement, "From the SOPO communications that I had intercepted, the Hero and Heroine Naiberg had trespassed into Six Trees in an attempt to rescue a classmate of theirs who had been kidnapped by the Legion. ORPO decided to show up part way through the operation, forcing both Hero and Heroine to flee through the Sarcophagus with the help of a Legion trooper they fought. It was all very romantic, I assure you."

I raise an eyebrow at this revelation, "The Sarcophagus is considered romantic now? You have strange tastes."

"A man and a woman, trapped in a monorail that had inadvertently broken down." The Voice rumbles, "In the darkness away from prying eyes, their wild animal passion was unleashed upon each other. How is that not romantic?"

I bite back my giggles at the sheer ridiculousness of it all, "That sounds like a plot for a porno film. Lonely Hero Trapped On Monorail Rails Heroine."

"What is pornography but the celebration of the creation of new life?" The Voice asks with mock innocence, "Get your mind out of the gutter, Transmigrator."

I smirk while taking a bite of my food, "Did you have anything to do with the monorail breaking down?"

"Serendipity, Transmigrator, is something the gods indulge in every now and again." The Voice says, barely holding back its laughter.

I take a gulp of the soda that came with the burger and idly watch the passers by drifting aimlessly around the park while on their lunch break. A random thought comes to my mind and I remark, "So that's Magic Police Girl sorted then? What about the possibility of her being tampered with by Fate?"

The Voice rasps, this time in a deeply serious tone, "I have almost completed the analysis of the evidence you brought back from the hospital. The Archmage is a careful sort, and none of the documents or the data contained in the SSDs made direct reference to the process he used on Heroine Naiberg or the black site guards. However, by comparing the information that is available with the blood samples that you had retrieved, I have made a number of preliminary conclusions."

I immediately sit up and start paying attention. "You know how Hobo Beard managed his feat?" I exclaim., "So growing a soul is not impossible after all?"

"No." The Voice refutes, "I know what was done, but not how Archmage Naiberg did it. Furthermore, the Archmage never succeeded in growing a soul. What he did was something else entirely."

I frown while finishing off the burger, "I don't get it. How did the black site guard's souls expand to their current size then?"

The Voice explains, "Transmigrator, the burger you just ate, the soda you are drinking now, would you say that such cuisine can make you put on weight?"

"Well, yeah." I agree, "If I ate burgers and drank sugary stuff everyday. But we're talking about souls here. Souls don't get fatter, do they?"

The Voice continues, "After fusing with Mr Gallant's soul fragment, would you say that your soul has greater metaphysical weight than before?"

Oh my god.

"No way. No way." I protest, "Are you saying that Hobo Beard has been fusing souls together to make them stronger?"

"Precisely." The Voice rasps, "That is how the Archmage managed to strengthen the spirit cores of individuals who had reached maturity. Based on the blood sample of the black site guard you had retrieved, the guard carries the souls of multiple other people forcibly welded to his own. Spiritual cannibalism in other words."

I pause for a moment to digest this information before asking, "Would that mean the black site guards suffer from the same weakness that I do? Multiple souls competing for dominance in a single body?"

"No." The Voice says, "It is the mind that thinks, not the soul. Archmage Naiberg has found a way to extract a soul while divorcing it from the governing mind. That is the true breakthrough that he made."

I make a questioning noise, not fully understanding what The Voice is talking about. The Voice realizes that I am completely lost and clarifies, "Take yourself as an example Transmigrator. Your soul has crossed dimensions, yet it still maintains a link with your physical brain that remains in your home world. You have full access to your memories and skills. Your personality is completely unchanged. Now imagine if I had seized your soul and installed it in Mr Gallant's body as a mindless power source. There would be no conflict arising between you and Mr Gallant under those circumstances, would there?"

I feel my mouth going dry and take another gulp of soda. "So what happens to the guys who lost their souls?" I query.

The Voice hums as it considers my question, "To qualify as a living being in this world, one must fall under Fate's dominion. Fate's influence is exerted through the soul. I think you can answer your own question at this point."

Yeah. I recall The Voice saying something similar when we first met. And that statement has only one logical conclusion. Death. Hobo Beard's extraction process kills the donors. No wonder there has been absolutely zero publicity about the research. There would be a riot if people knew that Hobo Beard had been feeding SOPO officers the souls of others.

"So, about Magic Police Girl, you think she underwent the same process." I remark, ruminating on the unpleasant possibilities, "If the soul Hobo Beard fed her was lobotomized, that would mean the tampering she experienced would not have much effect on our plan."

The Voice concurs, "I cannot say for sure, but the signs point in that direction. After all, if there was another soul manipulating Heroine Naiberg, I would certainly have detected personality shifts in her during the course of my surveillance."

Makes sense. That would explain why The Voice for all these years had never realized Magic Police Girl's soul had been manipulated. But there's something The Voice is missing.

"These brain dead souls," I inquire while tapping my chin, "would they still be subject to Fate's influence?"

The Voice pauses for a moment before replying in an unsure tone, "Yes? There is no evidence suggesting otherwise."

"Then we are back to the same problem." I shoot back while getting up to throw the trash away, "Fate might be using the soul installed by Hobo Beard into his daughter as a listening bug. We still need to find a way to have it removed."

The Voice responds apologetically, "Unfortunately, I cannot work out how the Archmage managed to perform soul extractions without the need for a synchronicity event. The data we have on hand is insufficient. Also before you ask, I suspect that the Archmage's procedure will may be the solution to your problem with Mr Gallant. After all, you intend to return the soul fragment, correct? There would be no need for anyone to die under those circumstances."

My heart lifts at this declaration but doubts still linger in my mind. "What if Hobo Beard's process requires a someone dying in order to work?" I ask, "There might be some element of equalization to the whole thing. The death might be a way of balancing the scales since there is no synchronicity event when performing the extraction."

There were concepts like that from back where I came from. Yin and Yang. Action and Reaction. And most importantly of all, no such thing as a free lunch. There has to be a reason why a synchronicity event was needed to extract a soul. Whatever Naiberg did to overcome that need would have exacted a price of its own.

The Voice rasps dispassionately, "That is certainly possible, but I need more data before I provide confirmation one way or the other. Nevertheless, even if your suspicions turn out to be true, the ball is really in your court Transmigrator. Mr Gallant's life means nothing to me. Once I have the full process on hand, I can perform the operation whenever you request it."

I rub my face tiredly. Its always something, isn't it? I have already ruined Gallant's life. If it comes down to it, would I be willing to end it as well?

"We are on the right track though." I say after screwing up all the determination I have, "We need to keep pursuing this lead. What about the freaks we saw at the hospital? How do they fit into all this?"

"Take a seat Transmigrator." The Voice informs me, "That matter makes for grim discussion, and I suspect that we will be here for some time."

I shut my eyes and get comfortable on the bench. Forget about Gallant for now. Concentrate on the issues at hand. What will be, will be.

Que sera.