It was raining. The first time in weeks. Several times before the clouds had been dark and low in the sky, but not until now had they burst, releasing the promised showers over the Academy. It was an oddly serene sound, the heavy drumming against the roof, the loud churning of the sea as it washed against the shore, even the veil of darkness that had fallen outside, too dark to resemble day but not quite dark enough to be night.

Harold liked it. It was Sunday morning, and he had woken to the pattering of the rain. It had started falling late in the night, and pursued them all the way to the morning.

He lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling, all the while the wind rattled his window. He had known the prime conditions of yesterday wouldn't last. It was just too...perfect.

With a sigh, Harold pulled off his sheets and climbed out of bed. Securing a fresh suit of garments, he made his way to the showers and washed. Then he made his way to the Canteen. He supposed Jimmy and Helen would be in the Common Area at this time, but he needed something to eat first.

"Can't you just wake up at the regular breakfasting hours, like everyone else?" Gemma said irritably when he sidled up to her counter with his tray.

"I'm not like everyone else," Harold said simply, smiling.

Gemma rolled her eyes and laid out the sparse remainders of that morning's breakfast. It was rather pitiful, but he took it with his usual gusto, then returned to his Dorm's Common Room. It was a large room, stocked with hard wooden seats around small plain white tables. A fireplace had been carved into the left wall, where a large fire was burning, filling the room with light and warmth. As he had expected, Jimmy and Helen were there. But they did not look happy at all, and neither did any of the other students.

"What's up?" he said, as he dropped into the seat beside them.

"You didn't hear?" said Helen, but she immediately answered her own question: "Of course you didn't hear, you've been in bed all day, hibernating like a bear."

"You're snippy today," Harold said, looking at her shrewdly. "This must be bad."

"Some news hit the school while you were out," Jimmy explained. "Something happened last night."

Of course, Harold thought. Their grim tones and expressions made it plain that the news was far from pleasant, yet he couldn't suppress the odd feeling of triumph that had bubbled up—he had been right. He knew that nothing could be that easy.

Harold inhaled deeply. "All right, let's hear it," he said, in a resigned voice.

Jimmy looked at Helen, then sighed. "An Enhanced was killed last night."

Harold absorbed the news without a change in his expression. There was obviously more to the story.

"She was attacked," Jimmy went on.

"'Attacked' isn't really the right word," Helen said disdainfully. "She was butchered. Whoever did it...it's like they were sending some kind of message."

Harold exhaled as deeply as he had drawn breath. "Anythinjg else?"

"She was suspected to be one of a pair," Jimmy said. "The other, her younger brother, was said to have been with her during the day. He hasn't been found, though I doubt anyone's really looking. None of the neighbours knew they were Enhanced, see, so you can guess what their reactions were after they found out."

Harold was silent for a few seconds. "Do they have any leads on what could have happened?"

Jimmy shrugged. "As far as the police can tell, it looks like some violent mugging gone wrong. At least that's the official story, since they were found in an alley."

Harold scoffed. Official story.

"I just hope they find the boy," Helen said sadly. "Her brother. It's not fair—they didn't deserve to die. They're just kids!"

Jimmy put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed, and she leaned back slowly until her head was resting against his shoulder. Harold understood Helen's anger, and her distress. Too well, in fact. Many people like them—"different" people—their sole crime was existing in a world that viewed them as nothing more than trouble, without even getting a chance to prove otherwise. The world had already made up their minds about them.

"Wait, how did you find out?" Harold said suddenly, remembering that the options of gaining access to this kind of news were limited on the island.

"Find out?" Jimmy looked puzzled, then he understood. "Oh, right. Some sixth-years overheard the teachers talking when they were walking by the lounge. I think they were trying to figure out who was in there so they could steal some supplies from the labs for a prank or something."

"You think they could be organizing a mission?"

Helen sat up, looking at him with sudden avidity. "Mission?"

"You know, for a squad to go look for any sign of the kid."

"Hmm...I don't think so. At least not yet. As of right now, the information that they have indicates that this was an entirely mundane murder—which is just as horrible—but not necessarily our field.

"The only evidence that could point to anything involving the paranormal is that one of them may have used their powers during the encounter, as well as the fact that they were both Enhanced, but they kept it so quiet that even the neighbours didn't know until the news broke. So maybe their attacker didn't know either. Either way, I think the Academy Heads would want to leave this up to the actual police, at least until we have more information."

"The police?" Harold said scornfully. "They're absolutely useless. He's probably not even a priority for them right now, especially considering what they know about him now. The time it'd take for them to even start looking could be the difference between whether he lives or dies!"

"You don't think I know that?" Helen said, tears sparkling in her eyes again. "I do! But there's nothing we can do if the Academy doesn't authorize it!"

Harold felt a surge of white-hot anger. He wasn't angry at her, or Jimmy, he was just—angry.

"I need some air," he said, standing up abruptly, and he strode away before either of them could speak. He wanted to hit something, which was a dangerous desire given that the things he usually hit tended to shatter violently. He walked along the corridors outside, the rain thundering around him, taking deep breaths to soothe his rage. But it wasn't enough.

Halfway to his room, however, he remembered somewhere he could release the anger without anything valuable being damaged. He wheeled around and headed for the Gym, which was packed with state-of-the-art equipment strong enough even to be used by him.

Predictably, it was empty when he arrived, but the equipment was already laid out ready for use. He strode right up the punching bag, and took a swing. It jerked backwards, but thankfully didn't fly off the chain. Satisfied, he began to vent his rage, pummeling the bag while his mind flashed with all the gruesome news he had just received.

A pair of siblings, young and Enhanced. The murder, the police claimed, was mundane in nature, though she had apparently been "butchered."

The act may have been committed by a human, but it was not mundane at all. It was vile and animalistic, a physical manifestation of sheer human cruelty. Even if the evidence didn't point to them being Enhanced as the reason they were targeted, Harold knew that it had played some part in the whole encounter.

And what of the boy? His sister's body had been found, as mutilated as it was, but where was he?

Had he managed to escape, or had their attacker drawn him off somewhere, perhaps to savour the act of torture this time?

Harold threw a final, exceptionally hard punch, and the punching bag burst, spilling sand out through the gigantic hole his fist had made in the material. He stood there, his chest heaving, the sound of the sand cascading at his feet ringing in his ears, when—

"Damn, what did that punching bag ever do to you?"

The voice, shocked and feminine and familiar, snapped him from his stupor. He looked around and saw Kierra at the doorway, one hand at her side and the other clutching her wrist, goggling wide-eyed at the ruined bag.

"Oh, I just—sorry, I'm a little—"

"Stressed? Yeah, I can see that."

"What are you doing here?"

"Oh, I saw you walking here when I was going the other way. Thought I'd stop by and see what you were up to. You looked like you were about to explode. That is, if you don't mind."

"Not really," Harold sighed, removing the bag from the chain and laying it on its back to stop the sand flow.

"You wanna talk about it?"

"Not really," Harold repeated.

Kierra sat down and folded her legs, then looked up at him expectantly. "Wanna try that again?"

Harold exhaled deeply through his nose, then sat down as well. "It's about the kids."

"The two Enhanced that were attacked last night?" Harold nodded. "I know, awful, isn't it? What kind of person would do that to another human being? To a child?" Kierra said, looking appalled.

"Believe me, I've seen the type," Harold said grimly. "Just because they're not in the public eye, doesn't mean they aren't there. And sometimes it's the people you least expect."

"So you think someone close to the family may have done it?"

"I have no idea who did it, or why. I just...feel like there's more to the story, you know? I mean, it's not a coincidence that they were both Enhanced."

"Or it could be," Kierra suggested.

"Come on," said Harold, casting her an "are you serious?" look.

"I mean it. What if these kids were just attacked by some random violent man? Maybe he was just unwell, and the fact that they're Enhanced didn't have anything to do with it at all. It's as you said, isn't it, 'Just because they're not in the public eye, doesn't mean they aren't there'?"

"According to what I heard, the police have reason to believe that one of them used their powers in that fight. You really think some ordinary mugger with a knife could deal with that?"

Kierra opened her mouth to respond, then closed it and sighed. "I don't know what to believe. I just think...maybe you shouldn't approach it from just one angle."

Harold pondered that for a moment. It was an interesting statement. Before he could respond, however, they heard the sound of racing feet, and Jimmy appeared at the doorway, out of breath. "There you are! I've been looking everywhere for you! Whew!" He leaned back against the door and clutched his chest, panting heavily, while he signaled to the other two to give him a moment. Kierra looked curiously at Harold, who shrugged and shook his head.

At last Jimmy straightened up. "Girvan wants to see us in the Principal's office," he said. "Now."

Harold got up from the floor with a sigh. "Well, thanks for the talk, anyway. Guess I'll deal with that later," he said, looking at the bag.

"No worries, I've got it," Kierra said. "Go on."

"Thanks." Harold smiled, then he and Jimmy exited the room.

"The Principal's office?" Harold asked curiously as they strode to the other side of the school. "Why?"

"No idea, but it sounds important. Helen's waiting for us there."

They quickened their pace, and arrived outside of the Principal's office five minutes later.

"There you are!" said Helen. "I was too nervous to go in, I've never been called to the Principal's office like this before!" She looked terrified. "Please tell me neither of you did anything, because If I'm kicked out of this school purely for association, I promise you I will kick both your—"

"There will be no need for that, Ms. Barnham," Mr. Girvan said smoothly, opening the door. "You're not in any kind of trouble, though if you finish that sentence you might just be."

"Oh, I—sorry, sir," she said meekly, blushing.

Mr. Girvan stepped aside with a faint smug smile. For a split second, Harold thought he was ushering them in, but then he realized that he was in fact ushering someone out. A boy and girl exited after him, both, Harold recognized, as sixth-years. He was not that good at remembering names, but after spending months at a time in this place he could certainly remember faces. As they disappeared down the corridor, Girvan gestured them inside.

The Principal, Mr. Wheeler, a tall bearded man with a sleek brown military-like haircut was sitting at his desk with his fingers laced across the table.

"Ah, good," he said. "Now we can begin. Please, sit." While Mr. Girvan closed the door behind them, the trio took the seats laid out in front of them. "Now." Wheeler went on, speaking in a low, fast, and rather conspiratorial-sounding voice, "it had been brought to my attention that there are certain...animals, out there, that possess some rather unique traits. It is suspected that they may have been genetically modified, though by whom or for what purpose I cannot tell you. But I have also been notified that the three of you have encountered two such beasts on previous ventures outside of Helix.

"I requested you three specifically for this task because you have the most experience with them. According to our reports, another of these—what did you call them—"

"Gargantuans," Helen said.

"Yes. We believe that another of them may have been seen recently, in a town in Massachusetts. I want you to investigate these possible sightings, determine whether or not the people of this town are in any kind of immediate danger. However, I am fully aware of the threat these creatures pose, so this mission is not mandatory. You have every right to refuse should you wish. So, what is your answer?"

The trio exchanged looks.

"I accept," Helen said firmly.

"Me too," said Jimmy.

Even if Harold had wanted to refuse, there was no way he could now. "So do I," he said.

"Excellent. You may go. I imagine you have some preparations to make. The drop ship leaves tonight, and you will be excused from all classes tomorrow. You have a long journey ahead of you."