Thomas was receiving a call. “Boss,” it said. Thomas hesitated before answering. Based on how last night had ended, he had no idea what kind of energy to expect.

“Hello, Helena? I’m kind of busy right now,” Thomas answered tenuously.

“Are you at Neonight North Reactor? Please tell me that’s what you’re busy with.”

Thomas had been suspecting either explosive or apologetic. But now she sounded tired, which was honestly a welcome surprise.

“Uh, yeah, I totally am. That’s where I am. I’m definitely not still home if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“I thought you said you had a date?”

“Oh yeah, I’m definitely there. If you knew I had a date, why are you calling me?”

“Because you should be at work because you failed last time.”

“That’s mean. I did a good job.” Thomas thought about Dominic saying he didn’t need to feel nervous around him. He could serve to apply that to the rest of his life. “You know what, Helena? I’ll take care of it. I’m good at my job, and I’ll call you later when I’m all done. Goodnight.” Thomas hung up and began to consider what Dominic said about the Lonely Hearts Club. He also had a rather tenuous relationship with the gangs of Neonight—specifically the Krokodil Crime Family. An Earth-born clan that Thomas was paid to work against for a decent time. And because of this, they hated him, almost irrationally. And so Thomas knew the lengths these gangs would go to defeat their enemies. They were also the gang that created and supplied the Martian Underground with Thomas’s very own Chorus.

* * *

Thomas stepped out into the restaurant area of La Bonne Nouris and began walking over to his table. Then he broke out into a sprint. Dominic was doubled over in their booth with a look of horrible agony spread across his dark face. He was groaning and clutching his stomach. There was a bit of ketchup on his face . . . but since there was no ketchup, it was likely blood. “Holy shit. Dominic, are you all right? Did you eat too many fries? I’m sorry that was dumb. You look like you’re going to die.” Dominic didn’t respond, only extended his hands towards the fries. “What? You can’t eat fries right now! Dominic, I need you to describe what you feel!” Thomas shouted, panic mounting in his voice as he held Dominic upright.

“Shh . . . Sharp.” Dominic barely muttered through beleaguered breaths before coughing up blood onto the table—to the shock of the many patrons.

“Sharp? What the fuck? Hold on Dominic, this might be uncomfortable,” Thomas said looking around, the many patrons of the restaurant ignoring Dominic’s clear pain in order to avoid responsibility. This gave Thomas the perfect opportunity to put on his mask.

“Wha-what?” Dominic muttered in shock at Thomas’s getup.

“Don’t say anything. PHANTRANA!” Thomas shouted, sending a long phantom nerve into Dominic’s throat, and weaving it down into his digestive tract, feeling for what could be killing his boyfriend. His nerve burned in the stomach acid, and the pain was intense, but Thomas pressed on, eventually wrapping it around something sharp. Is that? Is that a razor blade? Thomas thought, continuing to weave through Dominic’s stomach. No, there have to be at least four in there. This is a Civ attack! Dominic began to groan with even more pain. I have to figure out what he ate to do this. Dominic continued to groan in pain. Was it the steak? No, he had some steak before I left and he would’ve gotten sick earlier, right? Was it the wine? The fries? No, I had some of those too and I’m fine. That leaves . . . Thomas looked over at what Dominic had poured over his french fries. The salt. Thomas grabbed the salt shaker and began investigating its contents. It looked like salt to him. Dominic coughed up a bit more blood. Thomas could tell he was running out of time, and he wasn’t going to let Dominic down. How the hell did it turn into razor blades, though? Did the user do it remotely, waiting till I left? Maybe, but why not do it in Dominic’s mouth? Or the throat? The stomach isn't the deadliest place and besides the acid would start to dissolve it anyways.

The many other restaurant-goers began to stare at the scene Thomas was creating while trying to save Dominic’s life. But he didn’t care, he had to do this, even while the others began to stare and even make calls on their units. Dominic reached up for a brief second to grab a handful of salt-coated fries, moaning and groaning like an undead reaching for a handful of brains, and eventually shovelling some in his mouth. “Dominic stop it!” Thomas shouted, knocking them away, with the salt still in its form. Wait that’s it. They must be triggered by touching stomach acid. That has to be it. “PHANTRANA!” Thomas shouted, clutching his own stomach in agony as a phantom version appeared floating in front of him. Thomas then poured a little bit of salt into the acid-filled chamber, and it instantly turned into razorblades, before Thomas phased them out. “Dominic, this is going to hurt, but somebody used a Civ to stick a bunch of razor blades inside your stomach, and honestly, I don’t have any better ideas to get them out before they kill you. If it makes you feel any better, this may hurt a lot more for me. PHANTRANA!” Thomas shouted, conjuring a sheet of phantom skin and a pool of phantom blood. His right hand began glowing with purple energy before he plunged his fist into Dominic’s abdomen and through his stomach lining, causing him to choke. Thomas grabbed the razor blades in his bare hand, before moving the phantom stomach to Dominic’s, replacing the broken tissue and covering the wound with phantom skin and blood.

“What, what the fuck happened?” Dominic asked, sitting upright, the colour returning to his face.

“Are you a Civ user? What’s with the mask?” Dominic sputtered, staring intently at Thomas.

“I’m sorry I did that, Dominic . . . and that I didn’t tell you earlier . . . and that I made a bit of a scene. You can leave me if you want I’ll be fine—” Thomas was interrupted by Dominic wrapping his arms around him.

“Thank you,” Dominic said, eventually opening his eyes and seeing a waiter beginning to panic before starting to run for the front entrance and escape on a train. “I’d know a guilty face anywhere. The user just sprinted out the door.” Thomas broke away and saw the waiter who had been watching their table sprint off. And he ran off too, with murderous intent behind his mask.

“I’ll call you!” Thomas said, waving as he sprinted off behind the waiter.

User: Marvin Grapevine

Civ: Salt in the Heart

The user is able to disassemble objects that they touch into extremely small powdered granules that resemble salt. When the object becomes exposed to a specific liquid that the user chooses, such as water, blood, or stomach acid, the object reforms. This allows the user to not only disassemble their enemies in combat but to sneak objects into people’s bodies in order to poison them. If the user does use this to poison them, they will begin to crave the poison, turning their powder into an addictive chemical.

Thomas saw Marvin sprinting off in fear towards a train car, pushing past other patrons as he ran full tilt in his grubby tuxedo, which didn’t offer him the best range of movement. Despite Thomas being far faster than the waiter, the latter had a headstart and was able to hop into a train car right before the door closed, causing Thomas to crash into the doorway. Thomas was forced into the one below him, as the train was currently travelling upwards like a snake made of elevators. The train hurtled upwards towards the roof of the cavern, and despite this, he was perfectly stable. He knew he only had until the next stop before the man who tried to assassinate his boyfriend would get away and vanish into the crowd, and gone would be his chance of figuring out why or how to stop it. He had to act now.

Thomas pulled open the doors of his train car with the help of a few other phantom hands and stared out at the caves around him. The train was currently far above the skyline, likely heading up to another section of the caves above this one. It was as though he was on an outdoor roller coaster without being strapped in, and he was currently overlooking a thousand-foot drop onto metal and rock. And he was getting higher with each second. Thomas sent his phantom hands up towards the door as he stood, leaning out of his own train car. His hands were able to pry open the door slightly, and Thomas was going to grab the door and grip it with his hands before jumping upwards and allowing the force of pulling between the hands and himself to move him up to the next car which was currently too far to reach normally. All he had to do was jump. He looked out at the freefall he would be facing, the thought churning his already damaged stomach. But then he thought of Dominic. And he took the leap. The car above him was open, he had jumped up and he could pull himself towards his hands for the last bit.