My body reacts instinctively, dark vines three times the thickness of one of my arms bursting from my back and curling around the Synthe’s body—one grasping its lower half, one the upper. For a few heartbeats, everything becomes a blur. The next thing I know, there’s a shrieking of twisted metal as the Crimson Heart is pulled into two parts and tossed aside.

But there’s no time to process what I’ve done. Even as Overkill’s divided bodies incapacitate another two Hearts, three more close in around me. There’s a shout as the air grows suddenly colder. I bring the vine-tentacles sweeping forward—hoping to dash all the synthes off their feet at once—but each of them avoids it with fluid precision.

Striking so fast I barely see it happen, two of the three grasp hold of my vine tentacles and wrench them from my flesh. Pain explodes across my awareness like a searing red wave. A blood-curdling shriek echoes through the hall, and I only realize it’s me about halfway through.

The air crystallizes as the cold intensifies, congealing in a flash around all three synthes. Freezing them in place beneath a thick layer of ice.

I catch a glimpse of Minthe, whirling to face the opposite direction as more synthes close in around her. Stepping forward to help, I slip on a frozen pool of my own blood—falling hard on my ass.

Fresh pain jolts through my bones as a blur of red appears at the corner of my vision. But in an eyeblink its swallowed up by something bright and snarling.

Phoebus?

A familiar voice shouts my name, and I sit up just in time to see Artemisia arrive, conjuring a bow and arrow of silvery light from thin air. She lets the bolt fly just as Hind bounds from her side, grappling one of the Crimson Hearts with his glowing antlers. There’s a sizzling hiss as her bolt strikes home. The acid scent of melting metal burns the air just as the synthetic body hits the floor.

I whirl, feeling movement to my back and realizing I’m surrounded entirely by chaos. Everywhere I look, classmates locked in battle with charity workers. My teeth grit, and a tear rises to the corner of one of my eyes.

They’ve been hacked, just like the Synthe back in Gaia. This isn’t their will. They came here to help, and they’re getting torn apart.

Because of me.

I have to stop it. Stop it all.

But how to do that, without causing just as much devastation as I prevent?

The upper third of a Crimson hurtles my way and I duck, only narrowly avoiding its collision with my head. My gaze darts to its source and finds the immense, wolfish form of my fraternity president, the bottom half of a synthe still hanging from his jaw.

I’m not sure what triggers it. The confusion, the sensory overwhelm—or the fact that Phoebus nearly knocked my head off by accident. But a fuse is lit, and there’s no putting it out.

Power explodes outward from my core—every last bit I have. The air clouds with fuchsia mist, and I blink in confusion as tiny particles powder my skin, catching in my eyelashes. The strange dust begins to settle, and the shouts of combat transition to ones of shock. At first, I don’t quite understand why. There’s a heavy clanging in the near distance, but the haze is so thick that I can’t see further than a hand’s length from my face.

Then my eye catches on one of the synthes, frozen on its feet with its arms outstretched, hot pink mushrooms blooming across its artificial skin. Bursting from between its seams.

The light in its eyes goes out.

My breathing slows to a stop and I spin slowly around, the realization of what I’ve done building as I come full circle.

I’ve disabled every synthe within a twenty pace radius. Even Hind.

Even Overkill.

“Kore!” Cries Artemisia, darting over to me “Are you alright?”

“I’m…I’m…oh Daimon, I’m so sorry!”

I drop to my knees beside Overkill’s main body—barely recognizable beneath the new growth—and sob.

~*~

“Kore, please. My love. Breathe. It will be alright.”

I stop pacing my dorm and stare over at the possessed synthe.

“How?” I demand, hiccuping a bit as I peer up into Syn’s glowing eyes, my husband’s presence evident in his expression. The way he sets his jaw, the way his eyebrows pull together.

“Overkill has a replacement body, and his program is automatically backed up thousands of times a day. All synthe programs are. And if the Crimson Hearts don’t have body back-ups, I’ll pay for them myself.”

“But—but Hind. Artemisia’s synthe. He was a work of art, one of a kind. She made him herself…” I trail off, in danger of dissolving into tears again.

“If she can’t afford the parts to rebuild him, I’ll pay for them. As for Overkill’s new body, it’ll be there within the hour,” Aidon assures me. “You have nothing to feel guilty about.”

But I just shake my head over and over again.

“No, no no no…my classmates were in danger because of me. What I did was an accident. I just got lucky the spores only grew on synthes…it could have just as easily been all of them! And the Crimson Hearts were tampered with and damaged because of me. I was stupid to think I could come here and just be a regular student. Everyone who said so was right. I should just—“

“No.”

“No? But I—“

“None of your classmates was seriously hurt, and danger is something school is meant to prepare them for. We’re a dangerous people, Kore. You all handled yourselves admirably. If anything, this incident proves you’re capable enough to be there. I’m not letting you give up now. Let this become further motivation to master your own power.”

Something inside me warms at his praise.

“You truly think we did well?”

“Of course.”

I take a deep, trembling breath.

“Then I’ll stay. But if something like that happens by accident again, if I can’t control myself...I’m coming home. I swear it. Until then, though, I’ll help find out who did this. It must have been the same person—or people—who did this to Eury. Right?”

Aidon’s borrowed lip quirks upward to one side, brows coming together again in thought.

“It’s probable, but not certain. And don’t forget there are people whose entire job it is to find and apprehend those behind this. Don’t let it distract you from your studies.”

“I…I’ll try not to.” Inhaling deeply again, I finally work up the nerve to ask the question that’s been plaguing me.

“But how can we know whoever they are won’t try to turn Overkill against me, or Syn?”

Taking me completely by surprise, Aidon smiles.

“I designed them myself. They have a completely unique operating system. No one else knows it. I created the security that defends its integrity, too. Well, myself and one other. A person I trust completely.”

“Who?”

Aidon frowns. “That’s confidential.”

My throat sticks like I’ve just swallowed a rock.

“You can’t even tell me?”

“I’m sorry.”

I grit my teeth, my fangs biting into my lower lip as Aidon-Syn’s eyes go suddenly distant.

“Forgive me, love, but I have to go. I’ll return through Syn later this evening, though. I can stay with you until you fall asleep.”

“That would be nice,” I sniff. “Goodbye until then, I suppose. I lo—“

But Syn blinks, and the trickster gleam returns to his eyes.

“He’s gone,” explains my Companion unnecessarily, sympathy realigning his features. “I’m sorry.”

I shake my head, offering what I know must be a sad excuse for a smile.

“He’s never entirely gone, is he? Not when I’ve got you around.”

A broad smile breaks across the synthetic’s face. “That might just be the corniest thing anyone’s ever said to me. Thank you.”

“Corny?”

He chuckles, lips parting to reply when a sudden commotion of raised voices from out in the hall stop us both short.

“Is that…Phoebus? And—“ I strain my senses. “Huh. Someone I don’t know.”

“Wait, Kore. Stay—“ Syn begins, but I’m already halfway to the door.

“Your services are not required,” says a coldly stoic voice from the other side. “Nor are they desired. Please leave unless you have business with the queen.”

“Of course I have business with the damned queen! Now let her know I’m here or—“

That’s it.

Unlocking the door, I yank it open to find Phoebus—of course—and a tall, silvery-haired Variant in a dark suit.

“Excuse me for interrupting,” I cut in. “But what in all the Daimon’s names is going on here?”

They both start speaking at once.

“Apologies, my queen. But the Left Hand felt—“

“I came to take you back to the frat house so—“

I bring up a hand to silence them, experiencing a tiny rush of pleasure when it actually works.

“First of all, sir, who exactly are you?” I begin, looking to the stranger.

“I’m Mr. Gray, Your Majesty. Here by order of the Left Hand. She felt it best your guard detail include a non-synthe. There is one other, but I have first shift.”

“Hecate ordered you here? Not the King?”

“Yes. But I assure you—“

“I believe I outrank the Left Hand of the King. In which case, I dismiss you.”

Standing just behind me in the doorway, Syn edges a bit closer.

“Kore, I don’t think that’s a good idea. Perhaps you should have Variant guards as well.”

I inhale through my teeth, considering…though I really don’t want to.

“No,” I say finally. “People are just as corruptible as machines. But I trust Aidoneus. I trust you, Syn. And Overkill. I don’t need even more guards trailing me around all day.”

“Then perhaps just keep them around for when you’re asleep, and otherwise away from all Variants who might help you. Keep them for when you need them.”

“She doesn’t need them, she’s got a whole fraternity that can protect her,” says Phoebus, bristling. “Kore, come stay at the frat house.”

I mask my groan as a sigh, or try to.

A wise queen takes wise council, whether she likes it or no.

How many times did my mother say that to me? One hundred? Two?

“Fine,” I concede at last, meeting the flat, gunmetal gaze of the stranger and ignoring my frat-mate completely. “You can stand guard as I sleep. But you’re not following me around school all day.”

The Variant who calls himself Mr. Gray gives a curt nod.

“As you wish, my queen.”

“But Kore, what abo—“

“No,” I repeat, this time leveling it at the upperclassmen. “Thank you for the offer, but I’m staying here. Goodnight.”

Then, before he can argue, I shut the door again in both their faces. Scooping a cooing Pompom up off the floor, I pad over to the chaise lounge by the window and drop onto it with a long sigh. Staring out over the blue, snow-swept haze of the city, I don’t move from the spot again until Overkill’s replacement body arrives.

When my true guardian’s returned to me and looking exactly as before, I slip into the bathroom to get ready for bed. But just as I’m leaning into the sonic cleanser, there’s a knock from the main entrance to my suite.

“A Miss Artemisia wishes to speak with you,” calls Mr. Gray as I pop my head out of the bathroom.

Pulling my dressing robe tighter about my waist, I hurry back over to the door and fling it open.

“Kore,” breathes Artemisia, eyes wide as though she’s surprised to see me at my own door. “May I come in? I…I need to speak with you.”