The apartment was more or less the same as how I left it. Save a stack of oddly warped hammers in the corner.

“Doing inventory?” I questioned Kinsley, pointing to the stack.

“Nope.” Kinsley closed the dimensional door, glancing at Sae, then back to me warily. She crossed the room, picking up a hammer with a handle that literally curved in on itself like a pig's tail. “Not really the quality I look for. How the hell did they get here?”

“Maintenance or housekeeping?” I guessed, glancing towards the kitchen, confused. “The stools are gone too.”

I shook my head, returning my focus to the matter at hand.

Contingencies. That was the name of the game now.

I hadn’t forgotten what happened the last time things were going well. I’d been caught off guard and blindsided. Every second of inaction would cost me. If I wanted to keep the people important to me safe, I needed to move quickly and definitively.

There were more than a few action items on the docket.

“When you said you had support, I thought you were exaggerating. Nice digs, helpline.” Sae looked around, rubbing her arms furiously.

“I hooked him up,” Kinsley said.

“God, it’s freezing in here. And my stomach is killing me.” Sae stuck a thumb at Kinsley, “Who’s Oshkosh B’gosh?”

Kinsley almost choked on her tongue. “Bitch—”

“—Kinsley,” I interjected, rubbing my forehead, “Is the leader of the Merchant’s Guild. She’s also the founder of the system site. That’s how we know each other. Kinsley needed a way to sell her wares safely, Mom had the technical know how and savvy to make it happen. First to the top of shit mountain.”

Sae’s jaw dropped. “She’s a guild leader?”

“Got something to say?” Kinsley bristled.

Sae processed that, then stuck a finger at my face. “You knew her before you ran into us. That’s how your gear was so good. During the trial, despite being lower level, you were still shrugging shit off that was bodying me.” She gave Kinsley an approving nod. “Your stuff is quality.”

“Oh. Uh, thanks.” Kinsley looked pleased, the blustering anger vanishing as quickly as it had appeared.

“You know, for a Keebler Elf.”

“Look here cun—“

“—Sae,” I cut in loudly, giving Kinsley a warning glare, then lowered my voice. “Full transparency. Kinsley and I are going to have a conversation. It involves you. I know you’re dealing with something traumatic, so if you want to give me the benefit of the doubt that I’ll advocate for you, you’re welcome to bow out, and I can bring you up to speed later.”

Sae considered that, then glanced down at herself. A shadow of distaste crossed her expression. “It’s tempting. But if I wanted to hide away from everything, I would have stayed in the trial. Before that, though, I really, really need a shower.”

It was easy to forget that she’d been stewing in muck for two days because the rest of her appearance was so distracting. Still, her hair was visibly matted and what skin she had was smeared with grime. I felt like an idiot. “Of course. Head towards the front door, take a right down the hall. The second door on the left is a guest room with its own bathroom. Room’s yours until we find you a place.”

“Got it.” Sae headed back towards the bathroom, then slowed. “Are you sure it’s okay? Me staying here?“

“It’s the least I can do.” I waved her on. When she’d disappeared around the corner, I lowered my voice. “Maintenance took down the mirror, right?”

“Both of them.” Kinsley confirmed. “The standing one is in the storage closet. And they uninstalled the bathroom mirror. It’s gone. She seems fine, though. Tougher than you made her sound. I’d be a mess in her shoes.”

Kinsley was right. Sae seemed fine. Seemed being the operative word. Trauma manifested differently for different people. Some stewed in it, processed for weeks or even months before they returned to normal life. Others put off the processing for just as long, instead fixating on moving forward. I’d put money on Sae being in the latter camp. Which meant it would hit her eventually.

“We need to be careful.” I shook my head grimly. “Thanks to the transposition, most people in this city have had some sort of harrowing experience with monsters. A lot of the population is apt to shoot first and ask questions later.”

“You’re worried about a Frankenstein situation.”

“Frankenstein was the creator—it doesn’t matter. Yes. In short. I want her in this building if possible. With daily care if we can manage it. I have no ideas what complications this new form carries with it, but if it lines up with the usual system fuckery, she may have specific needs.”

I pointed the remote towards the shutters and pressed the button. Or, at least, I thought I did. The fireplace roared to life.

I scanned the remote and pressed the correct button again. A small vacuum robot emerged from its housing on the wall. It bumped into my footrest, then pivoted and zoomed away. “It was V2, Right?”

“No. W2. Like “W” for windows. Apparently, the app was way more intuitive—are you sure you’re alright?” Kinsley glanced from the windows to me, concerned.

Not the sort of mistake I made often. Tentatively, I prodded the protrusion of flesh on the back of my head, where it bounced off the cement when I fell. I’d had a concussion when the meteor struck. This would be my second. “Don’t hesitate to check me, if you sense that I’m off.”

“Do you feel off?”

“I feel fine, but that’s not always how brain injuries work. You had my back with Ellison this morning.” An old fear bubbled up from my gut. “This thing with Sae. Choosing where she’s living, the mirrors. Am I being too controlling?”

Kinsley thought about that. Long enough that I had to respect her for it. She was taking the question seriously. “No. So, long as you’re being genuine when you’re giving her the option to decline. And considering what she just went through, I think she probably appreciates having someone call the shots for now.” She raised an eyebrow suspiciously. “And… you’re not using suggestion—“

“I’m not. The only time I’d even use that on an ally is when they’re in danger, or they missed something critical.”

“‘Critical’ leaves a lot to interpretation.”

I grimaced. “Look, there’s—“

The door to my bedroom was thrown open and banged loudly against the doorstop. Kinsley shrieked, and I nearly toppled the wheelchair.

Iris was standing in the doorway, two malformed hammers held at her side. Her face was bright red, and she was visibly fuming, more worked up than I’d ever seen her before. To my absolute shock, she actually shouted. “Ugh—these stupid hammers!”

I glanced at Kinsley, to see if she had any clue what Iris was talking about. She looked as flabbergasted as I was.

“Hey Iris.” I gave her a half-wave, then leaned to the side for a better view of my room.

The anger disappeared from my sister’s face. She dropped the hammers, ran across the room and tackled me. “You’re not a vegetable!”

I grunted and patted her head. “Definitely not. Though I might as well be rooted to this chair. Uh. What’s with the hammers?” I asked, signing simultaneously.

Iris scowled. Her hands were a blur. “This ability is annoying. They tell me, Oh, You Can Make Whatever You Can Draw. Only no, they leave out the fine print until after a painstakingly detailed sketch of a sword that there are pre-requisites, and I actually can’t just make whatever. Apparently, I need my own tools and workspace first. To make it even dumber, I don’t actually use the tools, just need to be in their vicinity. So fine, I require a forge. But I have no idea how to draw a forge, so maybe it’s better to start with something small and simple, like a hammer.”

My head spun. Ability. My sister is a User.

Kinsley was leafing through an invisible screen excitedly. “Iris — Trance Forger, Level 2. Holy shit. You won the lottery. In more ways than one.” She smiled wickedly. “We should renegotiate your contract.”

I held out a hand in annoyance. “Keep your greedy fingers away from my sister while we figure this out. Also, since when did you understand ASL?”

“I took a translator feat.” Kinsley shrugged. “Seemed like a worthwhile investment, considering what we’re going for.”

Iris placed a sketchbook in my lap, followed by a hammer. Considering the mess of failures in the corner, I was guessing it was the best one. I picked it up, studying it. It looked right, but the distribution was all wrong. The head was uncharacteristically light in both color and mass. “Okay. So, it looks almost perfect, in terms of appearance. Seems like weight is the issue, even though you got the proportions more or less correct.” Something about the grain caught my eye. “This wood. Did—did you make the handle out of Ellison’s baseball bat?”

“I needed equivalent materials. The magic reforms it once the blueprint is done.”

I handed the hammer to Kinsley, and she took it, tapping a painted nail on the uncharacteristically light hammerhead. told me she was using some sort of skill, though the glowing red ring around her pupil made that mostly unnecessary. “Aluminum. That’s why you’re having balance issues. If only you knew a kindly merchant who would be happy to provide both workspace and unlimited materials for a nominal percentage…”

“Would you?!” Iris wrapped her arms around Kinsley’s neck, squeezing her tightly until the merchant made choking noises.

Kinsley looked uncomfortable with the sudden contact, then seemed to smile and accept it. She glanced at me.

“If you fleece my sister, I will hurt you.” I mouthed.

The merchant snorted, but nonetheless gently pushed Iris away. “We’ll figure out terms later. Lemme get in contact with the landlord for now, and we’ll get you a space and some basic materials to get started.”

“Is that okay?” Iris looked at me with full-power puppy-dog eyes.

“Fine.” I put my hand on my forehead. “Just don’t bite off more than you can chew. And ask for help sooner rather than later. Furthermore, if you’re going to take this seriously, we should probably get you an easel and better art supplies.”

Iris’s resulting victory dance looked more like a series of muscle spasms than an actual dance. Which, of course, was when Sae emerged from the hallway, towel wrapped around her hair. Now that it was washed, the spiny carapace fitted to her form glimmered, almost reflective. She looked at the two girls, then to me. “The Keebler Elves are multiplying.”

My heart went into my throat. If I’d thought about it, I would have warned Iris ahead of time. But I was still barely keeping up with everything that was happening. Kinsley and I both looked at Iris, who’d stopped stock still. She was studying Sae, as if entirely unsure of what to make of her.

Please don’t freak out.

I hurriedly pulled up the UI, trying to head off any shocked reaction with a brief message. Before I could send it, Iris spoke. “Hi. Did you get that armor from Kinsley’s shop?”

“Iris,” I hissed.

“Uh. No. It was a drop.” Sae said, looking visibly relieved. “From a dungeon.”

Iris glanced at me. “Is your armor that cool?”

“I’m a new User. I just have the basics.”

But Iris wasn’t even paying attention to me anymore. Instead, she scampered around Sae, sizing her up. “Can I sketch you? For armor ideas. My future employer will pay you for it.”

“Say what now?” Kinsley blinked.

Suppressing a snicker how the tables had turned on Kinsley, I shot Sae a message.

I inclined my head.

Sae bent down and poked Iris’ cheek. “So cute. Matt must be adopted. You can sketch me later, after the three of us have a discussion.”

“Actually, put a pin in that.” Kinsley’s expression was all business as she skimmed an invisible screen. “The adventurer’s guild and region reps are in the lobby.” She looked up from the message. “Before I tell them to head to the conference room, have you reviewed the transposition options for the region?”

“No.” There wasn’t time.

“I can stall.” Kinsley offered.

Delaying would ensure I was well-informed, but people were probably already growing anxious. The last thing I wanted to do was squander the good will I had and start things off on the wrong foot, again. “Sae, are you good here for a few hours?”

“Don’t inconvenience yourself on my account,” Sae stretched. “Just gotta get a cup of coffee and pose on the couch.”

I wheeled myself towards the door. “Tell them we’re on our way, Kinsley. I’ll cram in the elevator.”