A picture of Dr. Svelt stared back at me. My therapist for nearly half a decade, before money got too tight, and we couldn’t afford him anymore. If they had my session notes, this was about to get a lot uglier.

“What the fuck, Miles?” I asked. I didn’t have to manufacture the outrage.

“Do—” Waller started

I held up a hand and cut him off. “No. I want an explanation.”

Miles shook his head, regret clear in his expression. “You knew we had to look at you. The sooner you answer his questions, the sooner this is over.”

“Sure.” I held my hands wide, glaring at Waller. “Go ahead. What questions do you have for me about my fucking childhood therapist.”

“Several, but we’ll start with the obvious. Are you aware of what happened to Dr. Svelt?”

My anger flagged, replaced with concern. “No.”

Waller crossed his arms. “Dr. Theodore Svelt was subpoenaed after one of his clients beat a coworker to death on a golf course with a putter. He subsequently lost his license after a series of malpractice allegations arose, centered around a failure to report several clients who, according to his notes, posed an immediate danger to themselves and others.”

“I don’t understand what this has to do with anything—“

“Then let me illuminate the situation.” Waller moved the projector to the next slide.

The profile Miles referenced at the emergency meeting was blown up on the screen as Waller pulled a damnably familiar looking notebook from his bag, decorated with numerous yellow page markers that emitted from the top. He licked his thumb and paged to the first one.

“March 23rd. Matthias referenced homicidal ideation again today, directed towards a juvenile harassing his sister. The ideation is nothing new, with less specificity and focus than previous examples. He continues to grow more adept at warding them off, implementing the exercises and perspective work we’ve focused on. His innate rationality and knowledge of investigative process and forensics continues to act as a prohibitor despite the absence of empathy. He seems well-grounded, though I do wonder how much of his restraint comes from the understanding that he would be quickly identified as a suspect.”

As Waller read off several more entries, my expression grew darker. Eventually, he snapped the notes shut. “There’s a lot of psychobabble. But despite the bias Svelt clearly holds in your favor, there’s a problematic through-thread, Matthew.” Waller studied me. “Your therapist seemed worried about what might happen if you were to find yourself in a situation where you knew, confidently, that you could get away with it.”

I spoke to Miles, who was still studying the floor in great detail. “You said I’d get a chance to help. To prove myself.” I let pain into my voice.

“And low and behold, his fears came to pass. In the form of Brandon Givens.” Waller tossed me a file. I opened it slowly, numbly leafing through a collection of crime scene pictures.

“This wasn’t what we talked about, Waller.” Foster stared holes in the back of his colleague’s head. Both Hawkins and Miles seemed to agree, watching their colleague with distaste.

“Thirty-five stab wounds, supposedly incurred after your mother entered the house and found Brandon attacking you. The lead detective called it self-defense and closed the investigation quickly. Par for the course when a cop killer meets a convenient end.” Waller smiled. “The coroner, however, didn’t seem so sure. He noted that many of the initial stab wounds were administered at a strange angle. Almost ninety degrees. Your mother would have had to be on her knees or just under five feet tall.”

“This has nothing to do with Myrddin.” I said through gritted teeth.

“I think it does.” Waller shook his head. “Because you never went back to Dr. Svelt after that. I think this was your first. Maybe there were others—there were a few events in your history that are questionable to say the least—or perhaps you were just biding your time. Studying.” He bent down to look at me. “Plenty of medical and anatomical textbooks left behind in your old apartment. In our experience, the system has a tendency for revealing who we really are. And I think it handed you the anonymity you’ve been waiting for.”

He’s swaying them. You need to do something.

I pulled into myself. “You know, there’s a lot I could say. Excuses I could make. About how those textbooks were for work, how I used them as reference for standardized tests. I’m sure you already know that. But you’re right.” I looked at Waller. “It wasn’t my mother. I killed him.”

The air of tension grew thicker.

I studied the diagonal threading in my jeans. “Dad was a cop, but he was a pretty understanding guy. He told me, once, that experimenting was part of growing up. That he’d prefer I didn’t smoke weed or drink underage, but he understood that forbidding those things was mostly pointless. He just wanted me to be smart about it. There was really only one substance he came down on. Heroin. He said the problem with it was it felt so good that everything else would feel dull in comparison. That “trying it once” had ruined countless lives, and the high wasn’t worth what I’d pay for it.”

I stared at Waller defiantly. “They say revenge isn’t satisfying. That after it’s done, no matter how warranted, or justified, you just feel empty. That’s not how it was for me. I felt elated. Overjoyed. Like I’d accomplished something I was meant to do.”

“Only it didn’t last.” Waller tried to lead me.

I shook my head. “When it faded, I realized I’d lost something too. Little things I enjoyed before seemed less significant, less meaningful. Even day-to-day colors seemed less vivid, less notable. Some of that was grief. Some of it wasn’t. And ever since, I’ve been trying to claw that humanity back. The high wasn’t worth what I paid for it. Not even close.”

“So you’re a good killer.” Cook jeered.

I snorted. “No such thing. But I’m not the one you’re looking for.”

Waller looked visibly unsettled. As if he’d expected me to crack, and I had, but not in the way he wanted.

Miles sighed and stood. “I’m sorry this was so invasive, Matt.”

“I’m not done.” Waller snarled.

“No, I think you are.” Foster stood, staring down Waller.

“How is this not obvious?” Waller stalked towards Foster. His voice was pitched low, barely audible. “He’s the only viable suspect, and literally confessed to a history of violence. You’re genuinely buying that two people who fit the profile just so happened to be working together?”

“Or your profile’s shit. Maybe you lost your touch.” Foster whispered back, apparently finding his backbone.

“You—“

Hawkins stepped between them. “Regardless, we’ve reached an impasse.” She glanced at me sympathetically. “I think we could all use a breather.”

They were in a difficult spot. Traditionally, Waller probably had enough for an arrest. This hadn’t gone well for me. But Waller had screwed up, pushing this as far as he had, making it clear I was their prime suspect. As I’d guessed before, the threshold of proof was significantly higher considering what Miles intended. Now they were stuck. I’d created enough doubt that they couldn’t reasonably disappear me, but as soon as they let me out of the warded room, there was a possibility I’d say fuck-it and go nuclear.

“Can I offer a solution?” I asked. The quiet discussion around me wound down.

“We’re listening.” Miles said warily.

“Waller.”

The man seemed surprised that I’d called him. He replaced his glasses. “Yes?”

“You’ve obviously gone full Will Graham on my ass, so let me ask you a question. Is there anything in your research that indicates I’d be a danger to my family?” I gave him a strained smile.

Waller’s lips turned downward. “They might be the only people I’m confident are safe from you.”

I nodded. “From what I’ve learned, the situation at Region Six came on quickly. Essentially, right after the event started. Exploded from a single point and spread to the region limits.”

“That’s… more or less true.” Hawkins confirmed.

“Is this leading somewhere?” Waller probed.

“House arrest.” I said, voicing the idea as if I were still mulling it over. “If I was the Ordinator, I wouldn’t be able to nuke the region, surrounded by my friends and family. Assuming the Ordinator’s even able to do that when an event isn’t active. Actually, that’s probably the safest place to put me.”

“You think he can’t manage what he pulled in region six if an event isn’t active?” Miles asked.

I shrugged, “If he’s capable of doing that much damage on a consistent basis, why the hell are the rest of us still here? He would have used it to deal with Kinsley and I as soon as she kicked him out. Miles too. Innocents in the crossfire be damned.”

Waller raised an eyebrow. “You’ll allow us to post people outside your door and throughout the building? Kinsley won’t interfere?”

“At the end of the day, it’s more security. I don’t see why not. It’d be hard to monitor my comings and goings otherwise. Then it’ll just be a matter of waiting for a sighting.”

Everyone looked towards Miles. Even if they doubted his judgement, he was clearly still calling the shots.

Miles’s lips thinned to a white line. He looked vaguely nauseous, and I didn’t need to tell me why. He was already doubting himself. Moreover, he’d made an effort to parade me around publicly. If Myrddin attacked, Miles would have directly put innocents at risk. Including my family.

“House Arrest. For now.” Miles said, voice laden with doubt.

/////

“I got plenty we can work with,” Azure said gleefully.

”Later.” I told him.

I was worried about explaining Sae, right up to the moment Cook and Foster cleared her room, finding no one. Cook bumped shoulders with me as he passed, sending a leer my way. “We’ll be right outside if you need anything.”

“Thanks.” I waved him off cordially.

As the door swung shut, I heard Hawkins’ voice. “Kinsley in there?”

“Nothing on your end?” Cook asked.

“No. Everyone else is accounted for, but as far as I can tell, the guild leader’s—” The door clicked shut.

I pulled up my UI and tried to send a message to Kinsley, returning the same error message indicating squelch was still in effect.

A white doorway appeared in my kitchen, next to the refrigerator. I retreated to my closet and changed quickly, pausing to check my bare skin for any trackers or listening devices. Then I stepped through it without hesitation, my foot barely landing on the soft carpet of Kinsley’s domain before dulcet tones reached my ears.

“What the fuck is happening?” Kinsley squawked. “If the lady you sent my way hadn’t accidentally tipped me off that you’d left with a tall and handsome stranger, I wouldn’t have been able to figure out things were going bad and gotten Sae out in time.”

Sae approached, looking equally disgruntled. “There I was, enjoying my mid-afternoon nap, when a screeching midget dragged me into a portal.”

“It’s a doorway.”

“Whatever.” Sae quirked an eyebrow. “But she has a point. You’re not nearly enough of a celebrity to have your own armed escort.”

I glanced at Sae. “You’re sleeping a lot.”

“I’m depressed.”

“Fair.” I stared off towards Kinsley’s oversized fish tank. The feeling of drowning washing over me once more.

“If this is a coup, we can take them. I have enough mercenaries.” Kinsley said. Her hackles were understandably up. This was the closest thing to a home she’d had since this clusterfuck started.

“It’s not a coup. And we fuck things up with the Adventurer’s Guild if this turns to open conflict.” I studied Sae. Despite her frank estimation of her state of mind, she looked far better than she had a matter of days ago. She was rebuilding herself.

“What?” Sae said.

“Can I trust you?” I asked. For the first time, I let evaluate her. I didn’t like using it on my friends or allies, but that wasn’t a line I could afford anymore. It seemed like a kinder alternative than letting Azure root around in her mind.

“Yes, for fuck’s sake.” Sae glared at me in frustration.

She’s still unstable. But she’d also take a bullet for you. Probably more than one. You’re the only anchor she has, and she’s painfully aware of that. She is as loyal as she is angry, and she’s incredibly angry. A dangerous combination.

I bit the bullet. “I’m the Ordinator. You, me, and Kinsley are the only ones who know definitively. Yes, I’ve been the Ordinator from the beginning. No, I didn’t sandbag or avoid using my power during the Trial. No, I didn’t turn Region Six into a gory wasteland, yes, whatever’s running the system tried to pin it on me, no, I don’t know why. The plan was to use that infamy as an in with the suits, but now there are several Users with law enforcement backgrounds who put the pieces together and just press-ganged me into an interrogation, and I’m currently under house arrest. Yes, I have a plan, yes, you play a vital role, and no, you’re probably not going to like it.”

While they stared at me aghast, I checked my objectives, scanning through until I reached the Personal Objective: Remain unidentified by other Users.

There was no indication that I’d failed it. Which meant it likely referred to my identity as a whole becoming public knowledge.

“You—you—just—You’re just gonna tell her like that? After all the hoops you made me jump through?!” Kinsley’s jaw worked furiously.

Sae blinked several times, eventually settling into a stoic expression. “Not that I don’t have a million questions, but I’m guessing from that info-dump we’re at a crisis point.”

“This thing with the suits is on a strict timetable, and if this investigation stays focused on me, I can’t do shit.” I contemplated for a moment, trying to decide if I could afford to prep an extra day. “No. It needs to be tonight. But I get that I’m being a little unreasonable, so if you have anything you can’t wait to have answered, shoot.”

Sae held up one finger. “First, you sure you’re not panicking and jumping the gun here? Doesn’t it look reactionary if something happens to clear you right after they pull you in?”

“It usually would.” I admitted. “But they dangled me out as bait for Myrddin. It makes sense for him to move quickly on this, before they have their defenses shored up.”

“Myrddin being you.”

“Yes.”

“Got it.” Sae considered that, then held up a second finger. “Why is the Ordinator so reviled, exactly?”

Kinsley and I shared a look. I tried to answer thoughtfully. “From what little I know, the Ordinator represents a potential disruption to whatever process the Overseer and his people are attempting to instill. It gains exponential power as long as Ordinator lives, so it’s in their best interests to take them out early.”

Sae gave me a bland look. “You’re disrupting the system.”

“Yes.”

“The asshole system that turned me into a bug-monster, that system.”

“Uh. Yes.”

Sae held up a third finger, an annoyed expression on her face. “Why the fuck wouldn’t you tell me about this sooner?”

Even with reassurance, I didn’t like expanding the circle of trust. More links in the chain meant more potential points of weakness. The longer it got, the more likely it would snap.

I rubbed my face and crossed the carpet to Kinsley’s sitting room. To my surprise, there was already a whiteboard waiting, complete with a collection of multicolored markers. I picked one up. Azure, Audrey, and Talia all popped into existence and took various places around the sitting room.

“Wait, I don’t know this one.” Kinsley stopped in front of Azure and peered at him.

“This one would love to get to know you.” Azure said, dripping fascination.

“Matt. Your new summon is creepy.”

“Divine guardian, my ass!” Sae exclaimed.

“That lie was his idea.” Talia didn’t hesitate to throw me under the bus.

“Matt’s always been dodgy. You were supposed to be a spirit guide. And why the hell are you white now?”

I sighed, and popped the cap. “Let’s get started.”