It was only a few hours after the latest disaster with the MMA. Mary was aching all over her body - she hadn't ever suspected she had that many muscles that could hurt. Her... condition certainly didn't help either. They were walking around the campus while waiting for dinner - after seeing her performance, professor Zuzurrizal firmly insisted on her staying two hours extra for the remedial program. Mortimer and Paolo kindly agreed to wait for her and made particularly helpful comments from time to time.

To say the least, Mary was less fond of that particular subject with every single lesson.

The party was passing one of the colosseum-like arenas when Mortimer stopped dead in place.

“Wait,” he said, turning off his floating eyes and flashing the normal ones (if you can call them that) beneath his eyelids. Mary had trouble looking directly even at the dimmed, warm glow - she wondered if the boy could actually blind someone just by looking.

“What the-” Paolo didn't finish, as Mortimer snatched both him and Mary, pulling them to one of the arena's side entrances. It was stylised as a stylisation of the area the selection took place - it pretended to pretend to be an ancient building while leaving it perfectly clear in the open that it was mostly plastic and steel. They got around fifty feet inside the tunnel and just past the first turn before the boy stopped again. For some reason, this part was only lit by cheap imitation of torches, and the darkness was brightened mostly by the reappearing specks of white light.

“Lie low,” Mortimer said, “and don't make a noise. Mary, try to get that buzzing fly under control.”

Mossie wasn't particularly pleased by the treatment and tried to make more noise instead. Mary tried to catch him, but the SJW was too fast for her strained body.

In seconds, it was surrounded by four glowing eyes and violently pushed to the ground and away from the entrance, behind the party, so that the shining wouldn't betray their presence. Mary glanced at Mortimer and saw him sway dangerously, but only for a moment. She started to say something, but the boy quickly shook his head and winced as the gesture worsened his condition. Once they settled, the boy kept only two eyes lit - well, apart from those serving as a robot prison. There was a noise coming from the entrance's direction, and Mary saw shadows of short humanoids cast on the wall as their owners strolled past the arena. High-pitched laughter echoed through the tunnel and made her even more uneasy. She looked at the boys, but her eyes had not yet properly adjusted to the dim light. It took another three minutes before Mortimer finally stood up and gestured for the others to follow.

He also freed Mossie, who whizzed around furiously. It flew to the boy's face, but the sudden and ominous appearance of dozens of circles of light quickly sent him back to Mary's shoulder, where his rotors huffed and buzzed uncomfortably close to its heroine's ear.

“That can't be... for real...,” Mortimer muttered. “Paolo, can you feel Mary's blood?”

“What? How would I...” he trailed off. “Wait.”

“Excuse me, I'm still here?” Mary said.

“Try to lift her. Carefully,” The Creep said, completely ignoring the question.

“Hey!” Mary yelped as she felt herself getting lifted off the ground. It was strange, as she experienced tugging her whole body rather than any particular point. Still, the force wasn't evenly distributed, and the sensation was definitely unpleasant.

“Put me down, now!”

The force lifting her cut off abruptly, and she landed into a sprawling mess. She picked herself up, staring daggers at the boys the whole time.

“What are you using as a talisman?” Mortimer demanded.

“What?”

”Your talisman? Amulet? Please tell me it isn't an idol? What are you using? It is close to nonexistent.”

“Yeah, I barely felt any resistance,” Paolo added.

“I don't know what you two are babbling about!”

That earned her dumbfounded stares from both the boys and her SJW. At least, that's how she read Mossie's unmoving, dark reflectors.

“Will somebody finally tell me what's going on?” Mary asked.

Mortimer sighed. “This is probably my fault. I shouldn't have assumed... whatever. Look,” he said, taking a simple, iron ring off his finger. To Mary's surprise, it was quite intricate on the inside - there were a lot of charts and strange, twisting lines carved into the piece of jewellery. “This ring is my talisman. See all these carvings?”

“Um... yeah?”

“Their protection is much more important than the armour I wear. It's a miracle you're still alive if you've been walking around with no protection all this time...”

“Um... sorry, I don't get it.”

Paolo snorted. “That's because Mortimer is intentionally vague. He pretends he isn't, but he really is. You'd better get used to it... Muchmighty forbid he'd be clear once, this world may come to an end...” The Creep sent his companion a bone-chilling look with his closed eyes.

“So, as I was saying... You know most heroes have powers and know magic. How do you think, how hard would it be for, say, Paolo, to kill a human?”

“I think...” she started. With the agility the boy displayed earlier and say, a knife, he could... Wait, he could just shape blood into a knife, couldn't he? Actually... “Paolo, could you control the blood inside someone's brain, and...?”

The boy nodded grimly. “Yes.” A cold shiver went down Mary's spine.

“Now, blood manipulation of the kind our friend can perform is rather rare, admittedly. But you'd hardly need that much. How do you think, how much direct pressure could a human brain survive?”

“...a little?”

“Exactly. And how many heroes do you think could perform a spell to remotely exert such level of force?”

Mary shivered. “M-many?”

“Everyone. But most remotely reasonable people don't like to be at the mercy of literally everyone else - and that's why they wear one of these.” Mortimer lifted the ring to Mary's eyes. “Or something else filling the same role, though I think that talismans are clearly superior to the alternatives. Point one, they do not follow the strict rules of amulets. Point two, they aren't idols. No one knows why, but certain objects covered in charts or maps interfere with almost any harmful and direct power usage.” He shrugged. “Even if you wear them, though, someone could still throw something heavy at you. Or in case of Paolo - spear you with his own blood, but he couldn't use yours - at least until you'd die.”

“Actually,” Paolo said timidly, “the Church has some theories about why that kind of armour works, you know?”

“They do?” Mary asked, surprised. She hadn't thought that the Church even knew about this part of the world, though it should have been obvious in retrospect.

“Well, yes, I've heard that it is a fulfilment of the direct will of the Author himself, and-”

“Superstitions,” Mortimer made a dismissive gesture, “and nothing we have to worry about now. What matters is that Mary needs to create her own talisman now. Definitely before we risk running into the Puppylovers again.”

“Those were the Puppylovers?” Paolo's pale skin turned snow-white.

“Who's that?” asked Mary.

“Trouble,” Mortimer said. More and more eyes sprang into existence all around him, and he seemed to wince with every one of them.

“Ok, so... where can I get one of those ring thingies?” The look on Paolo's face was a convincing argument.

“You don't get them. You need to make your own.” The Creep smirked. ”Gathering materials is the funniest part, though. Paolo, how long can you handle the exosuit now?”

“Ahm... an hour without exerting myself too much? Maybe two...”

“Speedrun level two?” Mortimer asked.

Paolo looked at Mary's worried expression and sighed. “Muchmighty, have mercy upon us... Bring it on.”