It had been two days and still nobody took the contract.

Every minute I hesitated was another chance for a life lost. The fact that there was one out there, evil, unrepentant, and I could find them and fight them but didn't...it galled me. It shamed me. It made me into someone I despised being. Every minute was a failure, and as the days passed, the enormity of my failures began to weigh on me.

I felt an even more extreme need for penitence, but realized the ironic indulgence in punishing myself simply made me even more unfit for action, only further exacerbating the situation.

Which is why I was here, at church, where I hadn't been in many years. My relationship with God was personal, and the things he asked of me in life were not anything a aged man in a safe building surrounded by beautiful imagery and stained glass could comprehend, yet here was where absolution and salvation were granted, and I was in desperate need of them.

I slipped into the confessional, feeling the worn, heavy fabric of the curtain in my fingers as I drew it closed behind me, shutting me out from the world. Through the window, I could see the priest, only fragments of him, and in the darkness, the illusion that he was something other than just a man almost held. There was a small wooden bench, but I opted to kneel, the solid wood hard against my knees.

I saw him smile at me, felt his eyes on my hair, as he gave me a greeting and blessing.

I began. "Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been…" I stopped and blinked several times before the last memory availed itself. "It has been six years since my last confession."

"What have you come to confess, my child?"

"I fear...that through inaction, through continued inaction, I am allowing others to come to harm. I have sworn an oath to God to protect others, but I am not certain that I can do so."

"How have you allowed these others to come to harm?"

"There is a man, whom I know to be dangerous, and yet I cannot bring myself to face him. Even now, he is out there, unchecked, capable of doing whatever he desires and harming whomever he may encounter."

"Did this man hurt you?"

I laughed. "No, nothing like that, Father. He is Exhuman."

"I see." The priest's smile faded away as he thought. "My child, you have committed no sin, but I urge you to alert the authorities. Such matters are for them to handle, not to weigh upon your conscience."

I gave a wry smile, feeling empty inside. I had done a terrible job of this. "Father, I am the authorities. I am a professional hunter. Killing Exhumans such as these is my sworn duty, and yet, I do not think I can." I looked away from him. "Where once I was the weapon of God, now I am broken, and I know not where to turn."

"God does not abandon his children, especially not when they are broken, Child. He also does not ask his chosen to do the impossible. If this is a challenge you cannot attain, He is understanding. Be patient and surely God will reveal his plan to you."

"You advise me to do nothing?" I said, disbelieving. "This is the very sin I am here to confess."

"And as I said, you have committed no sin. Just as God gave you the strength to protect us from Exhumans, he also gave you the wisdom and judgement to know when you could not. Trust in those gifts, believe in Him. He would never want you to throw your life away."

I slammed the side of the confessional with my fist. "But it is fine to throw away the lives of others? Even now, they may be suffering at his hands!"

"There is suffering everywhere, Child. You cannot blame yourself for all of it, you can only do what you can to aid those you may. Be at--"

I stood up. "I swore to defeat any evil, not just any evil were it convenient or easy. I swore to protect all within my reach, not to withdraw my reach when I grew scared. I swore my life to God, not my life up until I might die."

"My child--"

"How would you feel, if you lived near him? If he was known to you, and yet nobody did anything? As you watched your friends, your flock torn apart by his ravages, and neither God nor man helped you, because all others turned and said 'this is an evil I cannot defeat.'?"

"I would be sad and frightened, I am sure."

"And what if there was one who was chosen to protect you, who turned her back on you? Would you tell her she had done no wrong, even as you see the fear in the eyes of your congregation grow, even as their numbers dwindle? Can you tell me with certainty that there is no sin in this?"

He spoke even more calmly as I grew more unbalanced. "There is no sin in this. The only one who has sinned in the eyes of God is the Exhuman in this story."

"Bullshit!" I exploded. "I have a duty to protect! Do you mean to say my whole life, my whole existence and meaning is for nothing? There was no need for me to protect anyone?"

"I never said that. Protecting others is a virtue, but that does not mean failing to do so is a sin. It sounds to me like you have lived a virtuous life. Please relax."

"This is confession, Father. Do not placate me with platitudes of my virtues. I need you to tell me how I am craven and twisted, how I have strayed from the light. I am awful and broken and alone, Father, and if I didn't become so that I could protect others…" I was leaning against the window now, and realized I had hot tears on my cheeks.

He looked at me now, his eyes flickering back and forth between the two of mine through the window. "I think...perhaps you have more sins you would like to confess?" he said tactfully.

I wanted to tell him everything. Wanted to blubber like the lost, little girl I felt like, tell him of my illicit relations with Ashton, and how, even now, in this holy chamber, the mere thought of him sent a tremble through me. Tell him how I would sully myself, imagining my touch to be his. How it was only this selfishness which had pushed me to be unable to fight, unable to serve my one purpose. How I had begun to crave the unwelcome sensation of pain, had been inflicting it further and further onto myself, because at least the pain chased away my feelings of lust for a time, the purity of agony washing away the contemptible sin in my heart.

I wanted to say this, and more, to let it all out and let God and this poor servant of His sort it out for me.

But I could not. There would be nothing left of me. I was no lost, little girl, and this entire confession had been a mistake. I was tired of losing pieces of myself to protect those around me. My friends, my youth, my heart, and my entire life...and now, when I could protect them no longer, I had to give up everything I had left?

"Excuse me, Father," I said, and turned.

"My child, come back," he pleaded, but I was gone.

I stalked out, angrier and guiltier than I had been when I entered. I'd yelled at a man of the cloth, chickened out on the real confession which needed to occur, and refused to face the reality of who I was and what I was doing.

A reality I still avoided, back in my hotel room. Blinds drawn, door locked and bolted and latched, and a gun pointed at my own face. One of many modular weapons which could be put on my arm weapon systems and linked into my suit.

My breathing was fast and shallow, almost excited, as I peered into the infinite blackness of the barrel. I had to be punished.

"My God, I am sorry for my sins with all my heart. In choosing to do wrong and failing to do good, I have sinned against you, whom I should love above all things."

I disabled the safety with practiced ease, even from this backwards angle.

"I firmly intend, with your help, to do penance, to sin no more, and to avoid whatever leads me to sin. Our Savior Jesus Christ suffered and died for us; in his name, my God--"

I put my thumb over the activation stud. "--have mercy."

Amen. I pressed the stud and with a whip-crack, the shock net erupted from the barrel and embraced me, entangling me on the bed, and knocking me backwards off my knees from the force of the impact. I had only a moment to peer through the thick mesh before the shock portion of the net engaged and I screamed involuntarily.

Electricity coursed through my body, making me twitch and squirm beyond my control. Every few moments, the devices on the edge of the net clicked ominously, and whenever they did, waves of impulses crashed through my body, feeling like they moved up and down through me, making me shudder and writhe, and where waves met each other, they multiplied within me, until I was awash in pure, mind-liquefying, whiteout, blissful pain.

I couldn't inhale, and once my initial scream had torn out of me, I did nothing but groan as I rolled and spasmed, but unlike the last time I had done that on this bed, this was an act of cleansing, not of vice. I felt God smiling on me as I was submerged in the pain, and for one clear, crystalline moment, I found myself again, there in the throes of the agony, the me who had once been, who had pulled her beloved's arm from his melting body, who looked into his eyes as he burned from the inside out. The gilding moment of my life, the exquisite pain which had turned me from Karen into Karu. An agony I had tried so hard to forget.

But why had I tried so hard? Pain was beautiful, pain had forged me into who and what I was, pain erased all my fears and anger and weaknesses from my mind and left me feeling only the urgent need for the pain to stop. It was simple, and beautiful in its simplicity.

And then it was over. I lay, possibly faintly smoking, with the heavy lines of cable draped over me. Too soon it had left me, I thought, but also, too long it held me. My entire body ached like every muscle in my body had cramped up, and I spent long minutes laying there, feeling nothing but the air entering and leaving me in short, ragged breaths.

I had also evidently lost control of my bladder in the excitement. Another source of shame for me to work through, now. Sleeping on the floor seemed a fitting punishment for that.

Otherwise, it had been a good punishment. With this, maybe I could forgive myself for yelling at the priest at least. I felt a tinge of guilt for opting to use electricity...his weapon of choice, but I was not exactly awash in non-lethal weaponry, and wasn't quite so irredeemable so as to kill myself. I was certain God would be disappointed to meet me if I had chosen such a dirty and easy way to throw away my life. One of the few things I agreed with the priest upon.

I felt clarity, and reached back into my mind to touch that younger, more innocent, more pure version of myself. I wished I could be her, live those glorious years of misery again and appreciate them, and the glory of becoming and being a hunter again. As the afterglow wore off, I realized how impossible that was now, how the world had changed and I had changed and simple dreams such as those were a relic of a simpler me.

It was frustrating, but it was also reality. Pain may have temporarily removed me from the world, but it changed nothing. I knew I had to be careful not to make an addiction of escaping into it. If I were to affect real change, wanted to accept myself rather than hide behind myself, there really was only one course of action.

That evening, I received an unexpected call from an old friend and we made plans to meet for dinner the next day. I had expected Deej to spend this period of relative peace with his family, but instead he was apparently out here. His first words echoed my thinking exactly.

"There's only one reason for yah to be out here, and that's the Exhuman," he said, frowning. "I don't want you anywhere near 'em."

"And you came all the way out here to say that to me?" I said, lifting a menu coyly so I could only look over it at him. "You could have sent me a message on my holo. That is, unless…"

I dropped the menu in mock surprise. "Unless you, also are only out here to hunt him?"

He rolled his eyes with extraordinary effort. "Of course I am," he said. "So don't you think about it."

"It seems a might bit hypocritical of you to take the mission and inform me I am not permitted to do the same. If you were hard up for cash, as it were, I could simply lend you some."

He reached over and flicked me in the forehead. I smiled. Deej always brought out a playful side of me I didn't quite understand. Perhaps it was because he was as close as it came to a father figure, though our relationship was far from parental.

"I thought you and da boy had a ting, ja? And now I hear you and he been fallin' out, and now you posin' to go fight da Exhuman? Don't take a code-X to see what yah anglin' at, and I don't like it." He frowned at me, seriously, more seriously than I was accustomed to seeing him. More seriously than when he was facing down Exhumans, even. "Go home, Karu. I don't wan' to see you hurt."

"I'll be fine," I said dismissively and brought my menu back up, to read this time. The words shifted away as he pulled the menu from my fingertips.

"No. Ja won't."

He didn't say anything else, just stared at me. I looked back at him, irritated by how he could sweep into my life and make decisions for me, but unable to hold onto it when I saw the real concern in his eyes.

I supposed, by definition, if he was a father figure, that made me a daughter figure. It would be little wonder he would come out here to take the mission if he knew I was going to. And besides...he was much more qualified for the type of fighting this Exhuman was likely to provide. Still, there was a problem here.

"I already took it," I said.

"What? When?"

"Just before you arrived. I was afraid you would talk me out of it."

"I was goin' to talk you out of it!" he said, his voice jumping up a level in volume. "Why'd ya have to go and do a dumb thing like that? Drop the contract!"

"I don't drop contracts, Deej."

"Your pride be damned, yute! This one is gonna kill you, for sure!"

"I don't. My pride is all I have right now, Deej. I need to do this. You have…" I couldn't keep eye contact with him any longer. "You have no idea, okay? Please just let me have this. I think I would prefer to die than to give this contract up."

He shook his head. "Gimmie yah holo. I'll drop it for you."

"No, Deej. I need to do this. I told you."

"Need to do this? Girl, you are gonna die. You don't need to do that, not for anything."

He was almost shouting now, which was odd because of how aware he typically was of all things sound. People were beginning to look, but with his last outburst, it became apparent they were all looking at me. The girl who was going to die. I felt my face began to burn as the rest of the building fell silent.

"Deej, you are making a huge scene. Stop it."

"I will stop it when you do. Drop the contract."

"No. I refuse. Why does this mean so much to you anyway?"

"Because we bredren. We one love, yute. How can ya even ask that? You and I, we family."

"I never asked to be part of your family, Deej," I said coldly.

"That's not how family works, yute. Family is what happens when ja breathe and bleed alongside someone, ja?"

I stood up to go. This had also been a mistake. But unlike the confession, it wasn't one I would have to punish myself for. I hoped Deej properly repented for this display. Instead, he grabbed my arm, making me gasp and wince, despite myself, his fingers strong and jarring against my tender forearm, even through the sleeve of my sweater.

"What's wrong wit' yah, Karu?"

"You are manhandling me in public, in front of everyone," I said, attempting to keep control of my breathing even as I was sure my face was completely flushed. "It is humiliating."

There were dozens of eyes on me now, every face in the entire restaurant turned towards me, staring without restraint as the larger black man held my arm. Without my armor, I felt so naked, like they were all looking right through me. I squirmed under the sudden scrutiny in a way which was unfamiliar to me.

I'd never had a problem with being a public figure before, had talked to larger audiences than this without beating an eye. But this was not me talking, I was being chastised like a small child, was throwing a tantrum and didn't want anyone to see. I wanted to shrivel up and disappear, just wanted to drop dead on the spot.

And yet.

My breath caught in my throat again. I struggled to keep my lips from a smile. The pain of this humiliation was beyond even what the shock net could offer. My heart pounded and I felt an excitement like it was Athan holding my wrist.

Deej didn't understand. He looked at my unusual reactions with uncertain eyes. Even I didn't understand.

"Let me go, you ogre!" I shouted, and feebly twisted my wrist in his hand. "I'll never give in to you!" He lifted my arm and shook me, and I allowed myself to flutter like a leaf in his grasp. People began to mutter, and it looked like some of the waitstaff were beginning to build up the courage to intervene.

"Karu, be serious," he said warily. "You are gonna die."

"And as I said, maybe that's better than the alternative. I'm not well, Deej. I am burdened with guilt and sin, and if purifying fire and death is the only path to my salvation, it is a path I will take gladly." I didn't mention how exciting the thought of purifying fire was right now. I really needed to get a grip on myself, badly. I was spiraling out of control. "I can't live like this. I'm going, and that's final."

He looked me up and down, and his scrutiny made me tremble. What was he looking at? What was he looking for? I felt like I wasn't even there, and he was simply examining my litany of sins, like they were crawling across my skin. Finally, he released me.

"I see. I don' know what's wrong wit' ja, but I can see it's plenty. I'm sorry, Karu."

I rubbed my wrist, which still stung sharply. "It...it is fine. I am trying to deal with it."

We both stood awkwardly for a few moments as the conversation in the rest of the restaurant began to pick up and attention faded away from us. With it, I felt myself slipping back into normalcy, my heart slowing and face losing its flush. I sat back down, to his apparent surprise.

"Are you still hungry?" I asked.

"You don' want to leave? You want to eat amongst all these people?"

"No. We made reservations and everything."

"Are you doing this because you're the bold Karu I always knew, or because you're sick in the head?" he asked.

I shrugged. Maybe both.

He shook his head but sat down and handed me back my menu. Every time the waiter came by and asked with just a hint of unease, or I caught someone looking at me, I felt myself cringe and my toes curl.

Deej was interested in my plans for tackling the Exhuman, and I laid out what little strategy I had. He kept his comments mostly to himself, but I knew he was thinking about how, if I did as I said, my death was inevitable. He looked at me like I was a fine crystal vase, teetering on the edge of a cabinet.

It was a beautiful, horrible evening. I think if nothing else, when we left, he realized just how far I had fallen, and how much I needed to do this job. It was humiliating, having one of my closest colleagues see me this way, but I was also beginning to question just how bad a thing that actually was.

I had to stop this still. I told myself, after the Exhuman, one way or another, I would find a healthier outlet...or simply cease to be, I supposed. And so I made my preparations with as much haste as possible to finalize my fate.