Drones swarmed the skies around Independence National Historic Park like a plague of locusts. Endless lines of bright yellow holographic letters reading CRIME SCENE DO NOT ENTER stretched across the park, nothing getting in or out except for law enforcement. The stench of death permeated the area like fog, and Margo winced at the assault on her senses as she approached the site of the attack.

Red. Everywhere she looked was drenched in red.

Dried blood tarnished the streetlights, dimming the streets in a brownish glow as Crawl Patrol bots studied the visceral messes like vultures around a carcass. Margo watched as a man deprived of every limb except for his left arm was hauled out of the park on a stretcher, shrieking at the top of his lungs in agony. She clenched her eyes shut as the hellish noise filled her ears as she passed him by, and she reopened them seconds later to study the rest of her surroundings, as much as she didn't want to.

A shiver went down her spine as a series of crackling noises resonated from beneath her feet. Margo looked down to see bits of glass sprinkled across the pavement, ranging from fragments as small as salt particles to shards long enough to work as daggers. The further she walked across the rubble, the more crimson stains appeared within view. Dozens of crime scene cleaners passed her by, their faces hidden behind gas masks, as they hauled cadaver bags out of the park. She hated to imagine what horrible messes awaited the coroners inside those bags.

It wasn't until she reached the center of Independence Square that she'd gotten a full glimpse of the Devil's work.

Piles of corpses mutilated beyond recognition surrounded Margo like an oncoming tidal wave. Bodies missing limbs, missing heads, faces, torsos, everything below the waist. She could see the bright red messes shine in the lights of the drones scouting the premises from the sky above her. While many of the bodies were loaded into cadaver bags to be sent to the morgue, others remained stationary on the grass or the pavement, rendered nothing more than accessories to an enormous crime scene. Markers were positioned around some of the most horrific remains, with the body of one Omniluv member shredded down to the bone with glass shards.

She would've used a nearby drone to learn more, but her ThoughtControl piece was back at home, and the specialized glasses were broken, awaiting disposal in a trash can back at the gym. She cursed herself under her breath for her careless decision.

"Sandoval!" she heard Andrade shout. "What the hell are you doing here?"

With a groan, Margo rotated in place, finding Andrade standing before the entrance of Independence Hall. Six holographic screens floated around her, and another rested in her hands. Margo marched over to her without saying a word, fighting back the urge to scream.

"Go home and get some rest," Andrade continued, nudging a holographic screen aside. "Your stitches could pop open if you keep moving around like—"

"Is it true you placed Carl under house arrest?" Margo growled.

She didn't expect her anger to make itself as obvious as it did. Several officers and other personnel glanced at her with uncomfortable expressions. Or at least she thought that's what was going on behind their masks. She'd never be able to measure their sympathy for her.

Andrade didn't wear a mask, which meant Margo was able to get a full display of the potential rage behind the lecture that awaited her. So she tried slowing down time by taking quick glances at the world around her. Scorch marks on the buildings. Shattered glass on the ground. Drones confirming no further explosives detected. The realization that the butchered remains of that Omniluv member belonged to Layla Raniere, the girl Holden fancied. But in the end, she'd have to look back and accept the consequences of standing up to her superior.

"Yes, I did, " Andrade barked. "And I would do it again if it means keeping this city safe."

"Well, congratulations on protecting this city from the wrong person. Carl couldn't have done this!"

"I'm sure you're aware of this considering he's the reason you survived past the age of fifteen, but Maslow's body isn't just his own. There are other people in there, many of which he hasn't introduced to us."

"But we've met Catalina before. She's harmless!"

"Yes, that's true. But that's just one alter. Your friend is more than he appears to be. The same goes for Royce and Holloway since all three of them kept their positions a secret at such a dire time. Doesn't that seem fair?"

A dirty look crossed Margo's face. "Royce and Holloway are not my friends, " she muttered.

"I'm afraid that's not our problem," Andrade replied. "All that matters is whether or not they've put their loyalty to Psychwatch to the test. Their loyalty to you does not concern us."

"I remember what you told me that evening, along with Royce and Mason."

"Are you seriously trying to convince me I should care about how my words affect you? You're a Psychwatch officer! Start acting like one."

"I'm not an officer! I'm a pawn! We're all just pawns in someone's game! Whether it's Mason's or this 'multiple man', whoever the hell he is, we don't mean anything to them!"

Andrade crushed the screen in her hands, light blue particles spraying all over the pavement before vanishing like snow. "Get out of here, Sandoval!" she hissed. "Keep that shit up and Psychwatch will make sure you mean nothing."

"We are Empaths and Neutralizers, Andrade," Margo croaked. "We can't just disregard each other. Saving the city includes saving our fellow officers."

"What the fuck are you even talking about? Just make yourself useful and get out! Or so help me, you'll be under interrogation with the rest of them!"

A series of violent thoughts clouded Margo's mind. She kept imagining another body added to the crime scene around her, and she couldn't figure out if it was her own or Andrade's. This amount of rage was so uncharacteristic of her. What the hell am I thinking? she thought.

Realizing she didn't want to see which one of them would end up in the pile, Margo raced out of the park.

Her heart was beating faster than ever before, both out of fear and as a sign of her stamina being put to work. Her run was crooked and restrained like a puppet on strings as her wounds prevented her from reaching her full, physical potential, stinging like electricity with every gallop. Her mind sunk deeper into the cold sea of paranoia she'd already been swimming against once she realized her lack of a ThoughtControl piece meant she wasn't safe from the P3S. If a drone passed her by and discovered the kind of irrational, agitated thoughts she had about herself and Andrade, she'd probably end up in Jack's place.

The flames that were her fears were fueled even further by the sight of other Psychwatch officers sparing her suspicious glances as if she were a lost pet wandering the streets alone. The sound of drones closing in on her only made it worse.

What have you done? Margo thought.

She gained speed, evading a massive crater left behind by the chaos earlier. Ash coated the soles of her shoes as she sprinted across the blackened pavement beside the crater, and she kept a hand pressed to her nose and mouth as a fiery stench assaulted her senses once more. A scream wanted to burst forth from her throat once she also caught sight of a dismembered limb, but she ran on into the night, hoping safety would find her first.

By the time she looked back, she didn't realize she had passed through a holographic police barricade several blocks back. She didn't know what street she was on aside from the fact she wasn't in Independence Park any longer. There wasn't a single SanityScan in sight. Yet the drones trailed behind her like bats out of a cave.

She kept running.

Fluorescent lights prevented the shadows of the alleyways from consuming her whole. She limped through the surprisingly cool night air, running away from the people she once firmly believed were her allies. It seemed like anytime she approached another alleyway, she'd make a new enemy. What's next, was her mom secretly plotting to kill her, too?

That would be incredibly upsetting, Margo thought to herself.

The drones were far behind her like a distant memory, and like that memory, they worked their way toward the light, determined to retake control of her mind. Figure out her own mysteries before she could.

She couldn't run any longer. Margo collapsed to the pavement, groaning in pain as she landed on her thighs. As she rose from the floor, she spotted red blots seeping through her pants on both legs, and the stinging sensation returned. She cursed under her breath and leaned against the cold brick wall behind her.

"What the hell is going on?" Margo exhaled loudly, staring up at the night sky. "Who can I even trust anymore?"

She looked down at her Fatemaker as it remained strapped to her waist by her MagniSheath. A part of her wondered if it was worth taking the risk and blasting the drones out of the sky like ducks, but she shut it down just as soon as it came up. She looked over to her left to see a metal fence knocked over, opening up the path to a drainage canal on the other side.

She stepped over the fence, noticing an abandoned mall towering three stories over her on the other side of the canal. She froze in place as a strong metallic scent caught her off-guard, reaching her nostrils like a punch to the nose. The opposite side of the canal was doused in blood, and the mess drained into the murky waters below.

Margo approached the ledge of the canal, screaming at the top of her lungs upon discovering the body of Dottie Forrester.

* * *

It was three in the morning, and Margo didn't move from her position at the edge of her bed, aiming her Fatemaker at her locked bedroom door.

The lights were on, the curtains were closed shut, and no music was on. Fear had taken the place of sound in her lonely little apartment. It had only been the fifth day back in her domicile, but the feeling never left her. A bottle of sleeping pills rested on her nightstand, and each time she took them felt like a huge risk taken, as if she'd never wake up again. But not this evening. Whoever it was that killed Dottie would be on its way to kill her, too. She could feel it in her bones.

"So let me get this straight, " Margo heard Ellie speak through her ThoughtControl piece carelessly left behind on her nightstand hours ago, "you found Dottie Forrester dead in a drainage canal?"

Yes, Ellie, Margo replied using her piece's thought transference ability rather than her words. She leaped off the roof of the abandoned mall to her death. Andrade told me earlier they had incapacitated her and were sending her back to her family. Bullshit.

"You sure she wasn't pushed?"

Well, if she was, that's why I'm waiting by the edge of my bed with my gun pointed at the door. Whoever killed her is coming after me.

"What makes you say that?"

I just know it. They came after me last week. They'll come again. And it doesn't help that I had to get my cuts restitched.

"Who?"

The masked man. Arthur Cohen. Bod-Modders. No idea. I just know somebody wants me dead. I'm a doctor-cop after all. Who wouldn't want me dead?

"Well, you are a Sandoval."

What's that supposed to mean?

"Us Sandovals only care about ourselves, if you haven't noticed. Mom only cares about herself. Dad only cared about himself. You obviously do, too. And I'd honestly sacrifice all of you for a night of sex, drugs, and rock and roll."

Margo raised a brow and lowered her gun, the door unmoving from her line of sight. Mom's not narcissistic, she retorted. She cares about me and you. Or at least she did until you abandoned us.

"You kidding me? You always told me Mom used to dump you off with Carl all the time, even on your birthday! She abandoned us. Why do you think I left?"

For all the sex, drugs, and rock and roll, you damn hedonist. I'm surprised you're still even alive.

"Strong words coming from a bitch who works with cops who kill people for having panic attacks."

Margo finally had the guts to speak up. "SHUT UP!" she screamed.

She clamped her hands over her mouth as soon as those words left her tongue. Her eyes were as wide as plates, and she frantically scooted back into her bed like a frightened child. She rushed for her Fatemaker and trained it back at the door, having sealed her fate.

"There you go again," Ellie chuckled in a condescending tone. "Getting angry just because someone told you the truth. See? We Sandovals are all the same. We only care about ourselves."

The gun shook in Margo's hand, and a tear drifted down her cheek. I...am nothing...like you, she growled in her head. I am nothing like Dad. And unlike you, Mom and I strive to become better versions of ourselves by helping other people. I don't remember how she was when we were younger, but I guarantee you she wasn't the neglectful jerk you think she is.

"Fine. Keep lying to yourself, Margo. Keep pretending these people care about you."

Margo moved her finger away from the trigger, afraid she was seconds away from blasting her home to pieces. I finally figured it out, she continued. You're the one who did this.

"Did what?" Ellie snarked.

Made my life a living hell.

Ellie scoffed. "Are you shitting me? You haven't even seen me in years! And we barely started talking again last year."

Maybe it's because you don't want me to see you. Because you know that since I'm part of Psychwatch now, I'll have every little thing that's wrong about you fixed.

"If that's what you call killing me."

Margo paused, finally attempting to calm down. Goodnight, Ellie.

"Oh please. If you got a glimpse of who I am now, you'd lose your fucking mind."

And with that final statement, Margo could feel her sister disappear. She ordered her room's lights to turn off.

Margo leaned back into her bed, her gun still raised toward the door, the only source of light left in her self-made prison of shadow and paranoia. She didn't know who she was defending herself from nor when they would catch her by surprise in the dark, but she waited.

Someone wanted her dead, and she wasn't sure if that someone had been in that room all along.