My eyelids snap open in reaction to a high pitched chirp.

There’s someone moving around in the washing machine room.

A girl with her back to me loading washing. She has a small bird on her shoulder. It’s bright yellow and dancing back and forth, matching her own bright yellow long neck puffer jacket. Occasionally the bird stops its energetic hopping to eye me or the washing machine the girl’s using.

I feel like I’ve hardly slept. A short thirty minute nap instead of five or six hours of undisturbed sleep. But it is daytime now, I can see light flooding into the passage from the blocks backdoor I entered through last night.

Fatigue has reached all the way to my bones. But I think I can make it home. My legs no longer feel like milk and my arm like jelly.

After pulling my hoodie tighter to try and hide my features, I begin pushing myself off the bench into a sitting position. The bird notices and starts chirping madly.

The length of helmet under my coat starts slipping and I have to quickly bring my good arm up to hold it in place.

“Shh.” The girl says gently with a finger on her bird's beak, trying to soothe it.

The little yellow bird’s hopping and chirping stops, until it notices me standing up. Frantic now, it unleashes a barrage of high pitched chirps as it dashes across her shoulder, only stopping when it dives into her dark russet brown locks, which reach down to the middle of her back.

My helmet feels like it’s slipping down between my shirt and coat.

The girl turns around to see what’s upsetting her bird.

She’s older than me, eighteen, nineteen, maybe twenty years old.

“Извини.” She murmurs apologetically, but her birds frantic chirping forces her to raise her voice. “I try come early because the noise bothers people.”

Sorry.

The noise. Why not just say your bird.

I intend to ignore her and walk out, but she speaks again over her birds tweeting.

“You shouldn’t sleep here. The night has become dangerous.” She grabs her bird from her shoulder to quiet it down. “The children that went missing are from this block.”

I keep my hand on the length of scales threatening to slip. Can’t have it falling out here.

“You were here since last night.” She suddenly blurts out as if in realisation. “What were those noises?

How does she know? Is she only guessing or…

Maybe the clothes on the line were hers.

Running or talking, which one is more forgettable?

“I was walking home when I heard them. They were coming from the dead block.” I say slowly, attempting to thread a believable lie. “You shouldn’t go there.”

“Is that why you were sleeping here?” She asks now, interested.

The creatures shriek must have been on her mind all night.

“The sound was louder the second time, closer.” I tell her, tapping my ear.

She looks almost eager now, her bird trying to vie for her attention but is left forgotten in her fingers.

“I thought I better come to the closest block and sleep here.”

She immediately has another question. “You didn’t see anything?”

“It was too dark.” I shake my head. “The sky was overcast the whole night.”

“What do you think it was? The sound was like metal screaming.” Her bird begins biting her fingers in futility.

“Don’t know.” I respond, my hand finally finding a grip on the length of my helmet. “I need to get home.”

I walk quickly towards the passage.

“Oh, right. Sorry Yana woke you. My-”

Stepping out of the block's back entrance I see the sun has only just risen. I have to start ducking under washing on the line again as I start heading towards the housing district.

I had hoped I would be forgettable and boring, but that girl was far too interested in whatever noises she heard last night.

Feeling exhausted, I start my long walk home. I just want to crawl into bed.

-

The scenarios I image training with now are to kill Radovan.

Claustrophobic struggles in a collapsing drug house as my greater power blasts part of it away. Visibility drops to zero after clouds of dust are created from splintering wood and chunks of concrete. It’s mayhem, shrapnel bouncing off of my helmet as I search for those still alive before they find me.

The chaos and destruction always seems to be my biggest weapon. Confusion about the situation and loss of visibility hamstrings the enforcers, the floor watchers and sellers. They can’t easily stack bodies against me or retrieve their gun to take control of the situation.

But that’s the drug house. There are other, smaller, places where Radovan’s lackeys need to be killed too.

The Dentist. I don’t know what the place looks like and I need to find out.

Lera would know. Don’t know when I’m going to talk to her again. Not sure if she’ll tell me either.

Delusion isn’t going to answer any questions I have, not after I’ve already exhausted my Ambit completions. So I haven’t tried.

I mean, he warned me about it not being safe at night, but I just wasn’t smart enough to make use of that information. I’m still not smart enough because I’m going to go out again.

I know the dead blocks are dangerous. Maybe the block district as a whole, if the creature hunts around there.

Can’t really put into words that some creature is hunting the most populated area of Toprak. But then again, why would it hunt elsewhere?

The bones, the smell of the dead block. That has to be where it prowls, where it eats, where it lives. Something.

As long as I avoid that whole area I’ll be okay. No need for it to come near the housing district when it’s food source is so plentiful where it is.

That makes it sound like I’m not going to kill it. Not right now, not with a broken arm. The shortwave has been talking about missing people for a few days so the residents will just have to wisen up and stay inside until the coast is clear. The creature isn’t my problem. I had nothing to do with it besides nearly killing it last night. Well, I hope I nearly killed it. I must have hurt it at least.

Someone else fucked up. I can’t be the reason that thing is here.

I’ve cleared a few Ambits, which means killing everything. Otherwise I’ve kept to myself, concentrating on my own problems. I haven’t done any strange shit or made any mistakes regarding Delusion and his ideas.

This would be the perfect thing to ask him, but he won’t answer. He said he wouldn’t.

It’s just like Delusion said it would be that first time he spoke to me.

There are dozens of people throughout your continent who would offer their smallest digit for the chance of asking more questions

I think I’m going to ask anyway. He can refuse and then I’ll get on with tonight.

Been keeping my baked nub in that same tiny glass bottle it came in, minus the citrus scented liquid I emptied out of it. If mom ever rummages through my room she’ll find stale bubble gum in a tiny glass bottle in my desk drawer.

“Delusion?”

His answer is instant. -Sanity?-

That’s a first maybe, him replying so soon. Kind of taken aback, not exactly sure what I want to ask.

“Is the creature I found at the dead block last night what you were warning me of in the last Ambit? Also…”

I know the creature has nothing to do with me and isn’t my fault but I still feel somehow… Responsible?

-All your blood, sweat, and tears you poured into your Ambits. Only to ignore the forewarning your efforts earned-

He’s smug. Delusion is smug.

“So that’s a yes then.” I mumble out.

Now that I know the creature is what Delusion warned me about, I can’t help but be curious of what it’s worth. To kill it should be rewarding in some way, maybe like a lesser Ambit?

“What do I get for killing it?”

I wait a few minutes while I start pulling on a fresh set of dark clothes.

Delusion makes no further contact.

Mom left a note on the kitchen counter this morning. I dreaded reading it. I couldn’t think of anything good it might say.

So I ignored it for the whole morning, choosing to settle down with image training and checking on the condition of my splint after last night. But I knew I was going to have to read the note eventually. After avoiding it until lunchtime I finally picked it up and turned it around until mom’s writing was the right way up. I had a metallic taste in my mouth like Kostas had slapped me all over again. Apparently I was to stay home in case anyone came to see about renting a room.

That wrote off the rest of the day with me smoldering. But now it’s time to get ready.

My dirty set of dark clothes from last night is under my bed. I completely forgot about having to wash them. Mom would probably have questions if she found three or four new sets of black clothes in the wash. I’ll clean them myself in one of the block district’s washing machine rooms when I need to. Going in the day time would be safest, but then I’ll also be seen. Another one of those conflicting little problems.

I’m going to climb the shortwave tower tonight and watch. It will be harder to climb with only one arm, but not impossible. I just have to not slip up and fall the eighty meter height from the top.

As for where to exercise my greater power later tonight? Ruling out the abandoned blocks, I’m still not sure. Maybe I’ll wander around where I collect wood from and blast a tree.

It doesn’t matter much.

Following Radovan and being extra careful with my arm are going to be the hard parts. If the sling was stained red when I woke up this morning, I would have no trouble believing bone must have punctured through my skin yesterday. The pain from all that movement was exquisite. Not anything I want to repeat for a few weeks.

I do, however, have a lot of freedom now after Radovan found me in the back-street. He wants me to search for his gun. That means walking around Toprak, talking to people. Asking homeless and fiends what they’ve seen. Looking for any rumours of a gun being around. Asking strange questions. Being places I shouldn’t be.

Or at least that’s what Radovan thinks. I’d rather I kill him in a couple weeks than end up finding his gun to give back. But I’ll see how it goes.

That’s why I was at the park earlier today. Wandering around, asking the more lucid looking fiends about Ambits and guns. None of them are going to have anything useful to say about a gun so I might as well make the waste of time worth my time. A few fiends did mention hearing voices sometimes, but who can tell if that’s anything reliable. Meanwhile one or two of the homeless clearly recognised the world Ambit. I doubt they’ve… partaken in one, but they knew something. When my arm stops hurting I can do some easy Ambits. Delusion did say they’re good for my greater powers growth.

I bring my good hand up to my coat's inner pocket again. The torch is there, tested with a set of fresh batteries.

-

Time to start eating the energy bars. I loosen my helmet with the lever and push the end of an energy bar up to suck on.

The energy bars didn’t exactly work last night but I also didn’t collapse. A minor improvement.

Radovan’s car is there at the drug house tonight. Saw it driving towards the drug house as I emerged from the housing district. Luck, which I hope hasn’t yet run out.

So I’ve turned away from the drug house and I’m walking to the shortwave tower in the dark. Stars are out tonight so visibility is pretty good and I’m not flashing my torch around. The smell of smoke is drifting over from the few homeless lucky enough to get a small fire going in the park.

The shortwave tower is loosely secured by a rickety metal fence which surrounds it on the side of the road coming out of the shopping district. It’s pretty close to being on the border of all three districts here, the shopping district, the housing district and the block district. Thankfully it is a street away from the block district.

The fence guarding it has been cut through multiple times over the years. Now it’s just a choice of which hole or curtain you want to go through.

Four concrete blocks embedded in the ground form a foundation for the shortwave tower. From there aluminium feet are fastened into place with fist sized bolts. Aluminium feet because the entire tower is an aluminium structure. In the centre of the four feet is the access ladder. It goes straight up in a perfectly vertical fashion. Climbing it eighty meters to the top is going to be a little challenging.

The metal is cold in my hand as I begin pushing myself up. Missing an arm, I can only move one rung at a time. Push up with one of my legs then move my one hand further up, push up with one of my legs, move my hand further up. It’s tiring and monotonous but doing it in the dark keeps me anxious as I climb. I keep going and going, minutes on end at this same task. Going back down will likely be much harder, moving down vertical rungs one step at a time. I think I can do it though

I reach a point where I can’t tell how far I’ve come or tell how far I’ll have to go up. There are some lights down in the distance, but closer around me is a cloak of darkness. I can only carry on.

I’ve been climbing for fifteen minutes now, slowly and steadily in the dark with only one arm. I reach up for the next rung and begin to flail in panic. I didn’t even notice there’s no rung there.

My hand shoots down to the lower rung and I catch my breath as I look around at what the top of the shortwave tower is.

There’s a little wire platform or grid mesh to work on whatever signal amplifiers and relays they have up here. I slowly pull myself onto my side before rolling onto my back. I’m not scared of heights. Or at least I don’t think I am.

I’m just not fully functional. One arm is a lot to lose and then still put yourself in situations where you need two of them. My fingers find a part of the tower I can lean my back on and I move over to it.

The cold wind is blowing a lot more up here. It’s not too bad in my hoodie and long coat though

The drug house should be… Around there. The access ladder didn’t twist around at any point.

A few tiny spots of light dot the park, like candles in a garden. I turn back and look at the housing district. Nearly pitch black. I spot the orphanage too towards the end of the shopping district, it’s been on my mind recently. The block district is pretty eye-catching because it’s still early enough that most of the residents have their lights on. Hopefully the residents aren’t wandering around all over the place there.

Toprak is the way it is as a consequence of stagnancy, I think. The town itself was pulled along in the current of expansion, revitalisation, one of the numerous industrial revolutions, or ideological wash overs. You can pick any name you like for it, but the current ended and ended abruptly. Now Toprak stands inert below me as surely as it slowly falls away in decay. One day the housing district will be nothing but a dump, I’m sure. A convenient spot for the last of Toprak’s residents to throw their rubbish after the town's self-sufficient infrastructure fades away.

I don’t want the back gardens and gravel roads and the trench streams Lera and I played in to be turned into the insignificant midden heap of Toprak. Especially not our house. It’s our family home, it’s where we’ve grown up and the only place that holds memories of dad and better times. I can’t imagine the house in ruins, forgotten and abused. Probably much like the house I used to stake-out the cafe. That’s actually what would happen, fiends and homeless squatting under sheets of tin or parts of houses that haven’t yet collapsed. While all around them the housing district slowly fills up with more and more dumped refuse.

It physically pains me in my chest to think of that likely future. But it just seems out of my power to prevent. Not something physically graspable. A problem of smoke drifting in the wind but you can’t see the fire.

Movement catches my eye. Light next to the drug house is moving. Headlights from Radovan’s car?

I get up and start trying to get back onto the access ladder for the long journey down. If I’m careful I can watch which direction the car’s headlights take as I move down.

The car reverses and stops. I think it’s in the driveway of the drug house or maybe on the curb of the street.

I keep climbing down much slower than I climbed up. It’s hard to let go of the ladder and still maintain balance.

The car's lights shut off before starting up again. A few seconds later it begins to move down the road.

It passes multiple streets, ignoring a few stop signs before turning up towards the block district.

I stop my descent on the ladder and rest. A frustrated sigh escapes me. I won’t be going to the blocks again at night.

Today’s excursion is already over. Except for my greater power, I guess. I need to expend it or exercise it or whatever.

I begin descending again.