“Have you had breakfast yet?” Feng asked. We were still standing near the freshly minted Compressor. “I made bacon and eggs. Although, do you eat normal food?”

“Of course he eats normal food,” Justin said. “What kind of question is that?”

“Hey, I didn’t want to assume. Maybe he only drinks heavenly lotus pulp and he only eats the E and D-grade meat that of the monsters he slays with his bare hands.”

Feng delivered the statement with a completely deadpan expression; I couldn’t tell for certain whether or not he was joking.

“I’d love to join you for breakfast,” I said.

We soon found ourselves in one of the prefab houses in the city. The kitchen had essentially the same core appliances as an Old World kitchen, except everything was mana-powered. There was a large box surrounded by cooling runes on the inside, a stovetop, and several large plastic gallons of water.

On the table, I could see two half-eaten plates of bacon and eggs. Fortunately, there was more on the stovetop, and Feng filled my plate and we sat together at the table.

After unequipping all my items, I could almost feel like I was back in the Old World.

I couldn’t help but study Feng as I ate. Feng had straight black hair that was long enough to just almost reach his eyes. He had a skinny frame and narrow face, and a somewhat nerdy look. His hands held his utensils delicately.

Justin coughed lightly. “So, Jarek. What’s next on your plate? Any more Hell Mode Challengers to fight? More million-dollar schemes?”

I shrugged. “I was just planning on practicing my Rune Master Professsion until somebody contacted me for help.”

Justin gave a short laugh. “Yep, that sounds like you. Just wait for shit to hit the fan, and then act all indignant when it does. Don’t take this the wrong way—at first I half-wondered if you really were Jarek. Do you know what the first red flag was?”

I thought briefly. “No.”

“It was the fact that you challenged Hard Mode. The Jarek I grew up with would never have challenged Hard Mode. What changed?”

A mind-controlling A.I.

“I wanted to be strong enough to find you, and protect you,” I said.

Justin smiled innocently back at me. “Gee thanks, dad. Looks like you didn’t think that one through very well. You know, Petra and I were doing fine, until someone came looking for Jarek’s siblings? We were kidnapped because of you, you know. I don’t suppose you considered that by becoming one of the most powerful people on the continent, you were putting us into more danger.”

There was no venom in Justin’s tone. For as long as I could remember, Justin never really got angry. He just said hurtful things, in the same tone he always used.

“I’m not sure where you’re going with this,” I said. “I feel horrible that you were kidnapped—”

“I’ve heard the rumors,” Justin cut in. “I guess I just want to hear what you have to say. People are whispering that you could have broken out of the Crucible at any time, but you were biding your time, waiting for the right moment to strike down Lord what’s-his-name. Is that true?”

I finally realized where these questions were coming from. If I hadn’t waited, then maybe Petra would be with us, right now.

“Have you heard of inheritances?” I asked. Justin looked surprised. Feng, for his part, was eating slowly and silently, clearly not wanting to take part in this argument.

“Inheritances are opportunities that people have to grow stronger. I was…fortunate enough to find an inheritance during the tutorial. But it wasn’t just a book, or a journal, or some extra money. The inheritance that I found was the spirit of a deceased member of the Atropos Schema. It’s like I have two personalities in my head, at the same time. This is how I know so much about the Schema, and how I’ve become a much better fighter so quickly.

“Back to your question, though, I was completely mind-controlled by Lord Ignatius. But the other spirit inside me was able to break free at any point. It chose to break free at the moment that it perceived would be most advantageous to me.”

Justin nodded, slowly. “So… you’re possessed.”

I felt panic rise inside me. “No, no. I’m not possessed. That makes it sound like I don’t have control. I do.”

“Alright,” Justin said. “Take a step back. As far as I can see, there are four possibilities. One: You’re completely lying to me about this spirit inside you. Two: There is a spirit that feeds you information, improves your battle skills, and broke you free from the Mentalist Cooperative. Three: That same spirit actually has complete control of you, and your memories, and is trying to act like you in order to not raise suspicion. Four: you think you’re in charge, but the spirit is subtly influencing your decisions.

“Would you say that covers all the likely options?” Justin carefully scraped up the last of his eggs and bacon, licking his fork meticulously.

“Yes,” I said, somewhat despondently.

“Well, then I’ll ask again. What is going on in your brain, and how convinced are you that it is truly what is happening?”

I took a breath. I knew Samantha probably wouldn’t want me giving these details, but I had to trust someone.

“Do you both swear not to tell anyone else?” I asked.

“Of course,” Justin said, offering his perfect smile once again.

I knew what the smile really meant: Of course I will tell someone, if I think it will help.

Feng just nodded.

“When I was first possessed, the spirit mind-controlled me. It took away my pain, it changed my goals, and my values. You may have heard some of the other rumors, too—I was responsible for the deaths of several other people in the Tutorial, and also for River’s death in the battle against the Shade.

“But after I broke free from Lord Ignatius, the Schema awarded me with a title. ‘Don’t Mind Me.’ The title makes me immune to all D-rank or weaker Mental attacks.”

“How convenient,” Feng said, putting his fork down carefully.

“It’s in my Status Window,” I said. “And that’s what allowed me to fight the lady from the Mentalist Cooperative in Fayette City, too. Without that title, I would have been mind-controlled the moment the battle started.”

“So the question is,” Justin repeated, “How convinced are you that you are no longer ‘under the influence?’”

Just a moment, I thought back. Just let me think.

“A spirit wouldn’t be able to affect my status screen,” I said. Or an Artificial Intelligence. “I’d say I’m 99% confident.”

“Now, put yourself in my position. Your brother is acting very different, and even admitted that a spirit that had previously been mind controlling him is currently residing in his brain. How confident would you be that your brother is not ‘under the influence?’”

I shrugged. “Sometimes you’ve just got to pick a belief, and live with it. I couldn’t be confident about something like that.”

Justin smiled wistfully. “That does sound like something you would say. Just pick the truth you want to live with, and pretend that it’s true. Although, it could just be the spirit that stole your memories…”

Justin paused, then sighed. “Well, I am good at pretending that you’re my brother.”

I felt my heart skip a beat. “What?”

“After mom died, you basically disappeared. I would see you once a year, for Christmas and New Year’s. No matter how shitty of a sister Petra was, at least she was there.”

“Are you serious? I was in college! What did you want me to do, drop out of college just to mope around Mom’s house? You know I couldn’t stand being in that place.”

“It wouldn’t have mattered what you did,” Justin said, still keeping a neutral tone. “As long as you did something.”

I felt the outrage build inside me. “Do you think Petra could have supported you on your own? I took out college loans, and took three different jobs, to help Petra pay the bills.”

Feng was looking distinctly uncomfortable. He rose from his seat, grabbing his empty plate, and went back into the kitchen.

“And you know what would have meant far more?” Justin asked. “A single phone call, that wasn’t on a holiday or birthday.”

I felt my anger crumbling. “We all have different ways of coping,” I mumbled.

“That’s not coping, that’s escaping.”

I felt a tear trickle down my cheek. “I’m sorry, Justin.”

Justin sat there silently, studying my face carefully. Then he cleared his throat, and I saw a somewhat guilty look on his face.

“Sorry about that,” he said, with the same smile I had grown to know and love for almost my whole life. “That was pretty messed up of me. I just wanted to see how much of Jarek was in there.”

He reached out, leaning across the table, and rapped his knuckles on my skull.

“I deserved that,” I said, trying to control my breathing.

“No, you didn’t,” Justin responded.

My hands were trembling, slightly.

“Hey bro?”

I glanced up at Justin’s question.

“I love you.” Justin said it warmly, standing up and wrapping his arms around my chest.