It’s difficult to remember. That’s why I write.

I don’t know if it’s supernatural, psychological, or your average emotional response, but I have to sit myself down and think. Who knows if what I remember is even how things really went.

There is one thing I remember, and that’s Bailey.

I have a vague idea of why I started hanging around her. When I was a little kid, I'd tried to fight against the things I hated; people I didn’t like and things I couldn’t understand. I was just an annoying kid that nobody liked.

Then I took a break. I must have realised who I was- not a hero, just another little brat trying to kill time.

Years later, for some reason that I can’t exactly remember, I started trying again. I must’ve been fourteen, maybe fifteen, when I decided that I was going to be a superhero. Without superpowers, obviously. It was impossible for me to make a change, as a single man.

Even now, it’s impossible, whether the supernatural is real or not. There is nothing a single Unit can do.

I guess the fourteen-year-old me must have realised, that a life where I tried is worth more than one where I simply bowed my head, let the rot grow over me.

The creature that had just entered the bar, seemed to be mired in filth.

There wasn’t a noticeable odour, but the green shawl that covered it’s boulder like frame- at first glance I thought it was a patchwork of greens when in reality it was some sort of growth that discoloured the fabric.

Though I was shaking, nearly immobilised, my mind was racing. I couldn’t even see this creatures face, but I was still trying to think of the possible powers that it might have. Maybe the filth covering it was poisonous, or maybe it could be controlled-

“Alright don’t cause trouble inside the pub, aye?” Bailey was giving this thing a deadeyed glare.

I was slightly taken aback by her reaction, other second worlders like Mullet would typically scream at a guy dressed in a goofy green costume, she wasn’t even phased by this. I suddenly remembered that was how she’d been whenever we’d spar. I’d throw a punch at her face, a quarter of the time it’d connect. She wouldn’t budge, then she’d counter.

I doubt it would play out the same with whatever this person was.

It half repeated itself, an out of place feminine voice coming from it, “That’s entirely dependent on Emmett, that man you’re serving.” She, or at least I was now assuming it was a she, raised a blue hand to me, vaguely pointing a stubbed finger at me.

“Do you understand me?”

I was turned half between the bar and the door and I kept shaking slightly, trying to think my way out of this. Or at least, I was thinking of a way to buy time.

“AHAHAHAH- man shhhhut up,” I slurred, grabbing Bailey’s arm, “I haven’t even had a drink in thish shit hole yet!”

I remembered my orange juice. I grabbed it and glared at the drink, “There, uh, drink in this?”

I turned back to Bailey, who wasn’t too pleased with me keeping this indoors. I made an appeal with my eyes.

Bailey sighed through her nose and dropped her shoulders, “Listen, uh, he’s one of those people who can’t understand things like you, so-”

She tried to think of a way to make this work in my favour. Bailey’d never been a liar. We really weren’t alike.

“Oh, Shhhut up, Bitch!”

I had to start shouting now, “Everybody, shut... Raagh!”

I jumped of my stool and walked to the door, swaying a little as I got closer to the blue person. I could just about make out shapes under the dark of its hood and cloak. It seemed like her flesh was sagging in some places and jagged in others. I wrongly narrowed my eyes, and a snort of mist came out.

I stumbled back. I was getting caught up in the dumb drunk act.

I held my breath, just in case that steam was dangerous. I opened my eyes and straightened my neck.

“Give me, uh, a minute. And I'll be out. Alright? I’m not stupid. The damn barmaid might think I am, but I’ve been around enough to know- you’re with some bad people. I don’t know why you’re here for me, but I know what you're planning. I’m good as dead, aren’t I?”

I turned back to the bar, “Just let me have one more minute. One more drink. Before I have to face my fate. Heh. Guesh that’s the best word for it. Seems like I was born to fall into this pit...”

I wasn’t sure if that was going to work, but I suspected that it would. I didn’t know what this person's powers were, but I knew that they were at least a little... understanding.

She, whatever she was, wasn’t a monster. They’d walked through the front door and asked for me to come quietly.

Honestly, I was being dumb. She might give me an extra minute, but there was a fat chance she’d spend it outside.

The unknown Unit finally put a foot forward, I looked down at the shoes and they were almost familiar. They were white armoured boots, caked in the same grime that clung to her long cape.

I finally remembered were I'd seen such a design before. For once it wasn’t my power analysis that had saved my skin, it was my apparel analysis.

It was a Fomorian design. Like Creh-umha’s in design, but more similar to Feoli’s if anything.

I would have smiled if I was as bad an actor as Bailey, even she was beginning to crack as this tank rolled up to her bar.

“I’ll pay,” the monster had said.

Bailey didn’t seem to hear her. Or maybe it was just that unexpected, that something so dirty- so inhumane- could have the decency to pay for a man’s drink.

That all but confirmed it for me.

Whatever they were planning, it was enough to make her pity me.

I suddenly realised that I wasn’t the only one of Clover’s companions they could use.

Bailey got to filling up a pint of Guiness.

The Unit that I’d need to slip away from started, “Just the one. Alcohol doesn’t do anything for me anyway.”

I looked down at my orange juice, and I asked myself the question: What am I doing here? Why the fuck haven’t I blasted through that door and back to the hotel?

I gritted my teeth, coming to the same conclusion over and over again: I needed my dumb mask.

“Back home,” she continued to gurgle out, “I’m actually quite popular. People like me who are vicious, powerful, and willing, are heralded. I did kill people like you. Quickly, and easily.”

I got my drink, though my throat was still dry.

“And I, I didn’t mind. Because it was my world. It was what I had been raised to expect. Here it is different. Here, people see me as hideous. They scream upon looking at me. People who are vicious and willing to kill, they are not in demand here. They are scorned. And I began to wonder, is this how the people I slew felt? Did they curse the fact that the world didn’t fit them?”

She looked at me, and I could fully see her face.

I wrongly expected a human. Something similar to Feoli. I was verywrong.

Her eyes were placed half way between the front of her face and the side, they glazed and gray. Her nose had receded, and was pointing up in a jagged mess. Though, it wasn’t nearly as much of a mess as her mouth. Her teeth were thin spikes that looked like the were stabbed randomly into her lipless face.

I looked into the dark of her throat, cords moving her voice. The mouth didn’t budge as she said, “Of course they did. It was so obvious, but I'd never considered it. And now, I am living in an underworld where someone who prefers to kill painlessly cannot fit in. The only place I can find here, is under a man who delights in the slow death of Man.”

Her head turned away from me. She dropped a pound note at the bar, and stood in the middle of the room.

She seemed to touch the side of her head, and speak to no one.

“Gurl, are you done?”

There was a pause, where I realised the other patrons had begun to ignore thefish person in the room, there instincts had taken over.

“Good,” she continued, “lend me your power, please.”

A pause again, “I want him to be left with some dignity, a final piece of privacy. Even if it is false.”

There was a long argument from the other side, I guess.

“That is true, but when hammer comes to stone, he is only human. There is no escaping me.”

She pulled her hand away from her head, turned back and said, “Finish your drink. Then it will be time.”

The door squeaked and made a thud as it opened as wide as possible for her to leave.

I could finally let out a gasp of dread. I bowed over the bar, trying not to crush the pint in my hand.

A smack to the head brought me out of it, I met Bailey’s glare as I looked up, “The fuck are you tryna pull? Do not involve me with your shit, I don’t want a part in it. Not anymore.”

“I wouldn’t,” I straightened up, “I didn’t know they’d be coming for me, I just-” I grabbed my head, “maybe a part of me doesn’t actually want to do this anymore-”

Her expression changed, as if she was beginning to wonder if it was really me she was talking to. I quickly clarified, “I’m not talking about quitting with the super hero stuff, christ, I’m shit at it, but you heard what she said, right?”

“No, I was getting your drink. Did she say she was going to eat you?”

I swiped my hand down my face, “Alright, this is all beside the point, and the point is that everyone me and Clover were with are in danger, and at this point I'm starting to wonder if any of this was worth it, if there’s even a -”

She shook her head grabbing me by the shoulder, “If you say point one more time, we’ll have a square.”

Through Bailey’s glare I could see something I hadn’t expected, “So, the point is you’ve gotta beat the crap out of that monster. Land a few jabs. You said you were strong right? You didn’t flinch when I slapped you over the head.” There was a slight fondness in her voice, like she was thinking back on the days when she used punch in front of my face and I'd instinctively flinch no matter what.

“I don’t have my suit-”

“So?”

A call came from down the bar, and Bailey pulled away, “The Emmett I knew never had a mask. You might’ve lied about who you were, but you never tried to hide or run, right? Besides,” she stopped and the fondness was finally shown on her face, “I don’t think costumes and masks are what Sam was talking about.”

A sickly feeling built in my stomach as I realised that I wasn’t the source of her ‘fondness’.

“Bailey, who actually is the Sam you’re talking about?”

She basically blew me off like I'd told a stupid joke or something.

She went back to work, and I was left to wonder who this Samantha Barrows actually was.

I got off my bar stool, picking it up by one leg, and carrying it awkwardly through the door.

I might have been wondering who this Samantha was, but the answer was obvious, so obvious in fact, that not even stupidity could stop me from figuring it out at the time.

Only ignorance could. That stomach churning feeling that I'd get from SP2, or The Woman Wearing Shamrock, and that I was now getting from the name ‘Samantha’.

There was a thud against the door, the cushion of the stool slamming into the door.

I looked into the night, a breeze blew at the ends of the only figure standing before me, her green coat was over-illuminated by the orange of the street lights. There was a chance that she wasn’t alone, that there was a sniper situated somewhere, or maybe just a group of second worlders to back her up.

Once again, I was banking on an over looked detail, that I'd have a chance to get out of this without doing something that seemed... powerful.

I was being watched by Sea-threw Gurl, and that was fine by me. She already knew how to hurt me; it was just a matter of whether or not doing so aligned with her personal interests... whatever those were.

I hated Gurl, came close to cracking her skull open, but she didn’t seem malicious. She’d torment me psychologically, but I never had her pinned as being the type of person to go out of her way to ruin my life.

If she got rid of me, or tormented me to the point where I'd quit (not that I’ll ever quit,) then she’d have no one to play with.

There isn’t a soul that would humour her. Though it seems there are a few that are fine with associating themselves with the girl with a pervert's ability.

“You haven’t finished your drink, son of Erin,” I checked the roofs before I settled my gaze on the opponent in front of me.

I thought about what she meant by ‘son of Erin’, but I quickly remembered that’s simply the ‘personification of Ireland’. It was her way of saying I was an irish man. All these random names that were being thrown around were confusing me, and I found myself adding to the confusion.

“What is your name? Thought I should ask before I clobber you over the head with this bar stool.”

The fomorian squared herself, speaking clearly, “So you changed your mind? Fine. A creature as small as you can’t comprehend what you are facing. I shall try to enlighten you.”

She threw her cloak away; her body wasn’t exactly what I'd expected. Her head that stretched to the width of her wide torso was placed precariously on her neck, fat or blubber hung down, sort of cushioning between her skull and shoulders.

Her face was flat, and I slowly realised that she resembled a manta ray. Of course, it wasn’t at all like the fish, she wasn’t thin or flat at all, but the shape of her features, something about the length of her fingers reaching out like flippers, or how her legs narrowed at the bottom, it all reminded me of an aquarium my mum had taken me to.

It was free entry.

My foes shadow seemed to grow and blanket over me, “I am Arasan Sruthan. The flat burn, in your language.”

I threw the stool at her face; she caught it with her left hand. Her arm served as a blind spot for me to hide in as I fell forward at what felt like an acceptable pace and kicked her in the knee.

To be a little more specific, I kicked right above her knee on the outside of her leg, and I hit hard. If I wasn’t as durable as I am, it would have hurt me.

It didn’t, and I could have definitely thrown a punch while she was reeling-

But that isn’t what a soft little land dweller would do.

I tried to hobble back to sell that I was a little sore from my foot making contact with muscles built like a rhinocerous, however, she recovered quicker than I thought she would.

Sruthan overcame it with a simple roar, swinging the chair down, forcing me to dodge. There was a moment where I was blinded by a steel leg flying up in front of my face. She could have copied me by using the blind spot, but she’d guessed correctly that I wouldn’t fall for my own trick.

Especially not with her frame being that wide.

She shuffled her feet. It was as if she was testing the floor for something.

Steam escaped her mouth as she said, “You... you’re a fighter?”

I was being cautious, shifting my foot work, trying to pay attention to hers.

“What, that didn’t hurt did it?” I tried to provoke her, “I just thought that the best way to take a fat bitch like you out would be to go for your legs.” I watched her sort of shuffle lamely on her feet, “but I guess carrying all that weight actually made those hooves a little stronger, huh?”

She didn’t fall for it. She was waiting for me to make the first move, which made sense seeing as the objective was catch and subdue.

Her hands were like bags, ready to fall over me at a moment's notice.

Fine, I thought. I had aimed for the leg because I thought it might lead to an opportunity for me to simply run away, that was the quickest and most efficient way for me to get out of there. I was just forgetting something very important about my opponent.

She doesn’t walk. She’s a fomorian. That’s what this weird shuffle was. There was no martial prowess to it, she was probably focused on curbing the pain.

In my attempts to act like a normal person I had neglected the supernatural abilities of my opponent. If I did try to escape, she wouldn’t run after me she’d, chase me on her hands like an animal, if that’s what the mission called for.

I wasn’t fighting a fish out of water, she was an alligator out of water. It wasn’t in the most suitable environment for her, but she still had the upper hand against prey, which I was playing the part of.

She was being patient with me, as she had been in the bar. The longer I waited, the less pain Sruthan seemed to be in.

So I kicked up the cushion of the stool, her eyes didn’t leave me. At least, I assumed they hadn’t. Hard to tell with those glazed over orbs, spread so far apart.

She swatted it out of her way instinctively, grabbing out. I narrowly weaved past her hand, dipping towards her body and under her arm, I escaped with a slight scratch in my shoulder as her thumb clawed at me.

The slightest trickle of blood fell, but I hadn’t the time to think about it, as I threw two punches at the back of her arm. Her torso was armoured, and she was too tall for me to get any good hits on her face. The best I could do was this.

Two jabs tapped the back of her arm painlessly.

I kept moving, my greatest advantage was that my enemy wasn’t used to walking on land, let alone fighting. I stayed close to her body, backing up would only put me in her reach, so I just kept ducking and weaving.

The objective was to tire her out, weaken her stamina.

I could pretend like I was out skilling her, that I was using some newly awakened martial prowess from seeing Bailey again, but the fact of the matter is that I was cheating.

I probably could have taken her out in one hit, but then when she woke up, she’d realise there was something fishy about me, (no pun intended). That inkling of information could get back to her boss and the rest of their team, or it could even get to the Fomorian Federation- Feoli.

The plan was to make it look like I was using some kind of technique, she wouldn’t be able to distinguish good foot work from tiny thrusts of superstrength from my back foot.

The first two jabs I landed on her were painless, a good fighter would land those softer hits a couple times in order to weaken her muscles, over exert them.

I’d never go so far. I punched at generally the same places, the triceps. She'd think that she was beginning to hurt because of continued stress, when in actuality I was slowly hitting harder.

She eventually started to steam through her gapping maw, and I was starting to think that my hair brained scheme was working.

There was something I'd overlooked, however. An advantage I'd been given, but hadn’t picked up on. She was coming into this expecting to find a normal human, easy prey for a Unit that hunted second worlders.

I was a warm up- no, I was the equivalent to a short stretch before the warm up.

And that advantage that I hadn’t picked up on, the fact that she wasn’t trying to fight me-

It began to dissipate. Sruthan had kept her mission in mind, but now she was getting angry, hot headed.

I didn’t see her bad leg kick out before it was too late. It was like running into a wall, as it caught me in the stomach and flung me forward just short of the road.

It knocked the wind out of me, a normal human would have been worse for wear. A normal human wouldn’t have scrambled to their feet like I was half way through doing.

I got to my feet, and to my own surprise, I rose off the ground as well.

I pulled at a tight grip that was holding onto my forearm as I dangled a few feet off the ground.

Steam was still puffing out of her half-closed mouth.

“You are a strange specimen. Neither Feoli or Bea mentioned that the Enemy race had such skills- and here you have no weapon to speak of... You’ve earned my pity. I never imagined that I would feel such things for an enemy. It seems this place is snaring me in its trap just like Bea. Just like Feoli. I wonder if there is some power to it...”

She had cooled off enough to ignore me, she started to walk down the street.

‘Like hell she is’, I gritted to myself. I grabbed at her arm and pulled myself up. I did it instinctively, I didn’t have an idea of what to do after I brought my face up.

I could have kicked at her face, but I wasn’t sure if that would do anything with all the hard bits and blubber.

As it turns out, I did remember a move from the time I'd spent fighting as a kid.

I bit down. Not just once, over and over and over, I made a chew toy out of her hand.

It seemed like the steam stopped streaming from her. Then it came out in a hot cloud, along with a guttural sound.

I started to feel a burning in the arm she was gripping. Then something started to drip. I yelled out in pain, as my flesh turned to blood and skin. I thought she was melting me at first, but after giving it some thought, it’s more likely she has the same power as Feoli.

She was transmuting the water in my arm into flesh, disconnecting it from my body, unknowingly negating my durability. It was an application that Feoli had never shown, but it seemed like Sruthan could pull it off.

It meant that she was a very real threat to me.

If she’s a threat to me, then her allies would definitely be a threat to Feoli and Clover. They wouldn’t be able to protect everyone if I was gone. I had to move. I had to fight.

In the end it seems like I wasn’t able to maintain the lie.

I threw my legs up onto her arm, my feet found a foot hold in the flesh of her baggy face.

I pushed with my feet and pulled up with my arms, a crack was followed by a roar that literally shook the air.

That was enough to loosen her grip on my arm. And yet it wasn’t enough. I forced myself to keep fighting.

As soon as she let go of my arm, I grabbed back on, though she tried to pull me off.

I wasn’t holding back any more, she could barely budge me a couple inches. I unlocked one of my legs from the hold as her arm went dead. I fidgeted about, locking her hand under my arm pit, and put my free foot in hers. Then I tilted my body back, bringing her forearm with my until there was a sound like a tree splintering.

I fell to the ground, skittering away from what I'd done. I was like a crazed animal looking up at her another roar sounded out as that gigantic frame lunged at me with her only good arm.

As I backed up, pushing myself along the ground, I suddenly realised I was getting a track record when it came to breaking right arms. Fomorian right arms at that.

I was so out of it, that I didn’t even realise that we’d managed to make it into the middle of the road.

I backed up under a car.

A moving one.

It happened just as Sruthan was on top of me, so when I was hit in the head by something and flattened to the ground, I initially assumed it was her.

Then after a moment of fighting against nothing, I realised she was gone. I quickly checked all around, and it was like looking in the direction of that car gave me the ability to hear its horn blaring.

After my moment's confusion passed, I stood up, still searching for Sruthan, yet more focused on checking that the driver of the car was alright. He came out to check on me actually, making an attempt to keep me on my feet by grabbing me by the shoulders. He was asking if I was alright, what you might expect from that situation.

I kept walking, uninterrupted by him. I thought that the car had crashed into a lamp post, but I was both glad and shocked to see that wasn’t the case.

There was a wide dent in the hood of the car, the door on the left-hand side had been damaged as well, half hanging off the hinges.

At first, I thought that was why Sruthan was in such a state. Then I remembered that it was me who had reduced her arm to a crooked mess.

For some reason, when I realised that I was responsible, a sigh of relief escaped my lungs. I felt relieved that she wasn’t ‘seriously’ injured.

I guess my logic was that I’d never go as far as to cause someone permanent damage.

I got closer to her as the sounds muted around me.

That steam that had been storming out had been reduced to a mist that only occasionally escaped.

I thought to ask for an ambulance, but that wouldn’t have helped her at all.

It seemed like it had been a head on collision, literally. Her head seemed swollen. Emphasis on seemed, it was impossible for me to tell if it had bloated anymore from just a minute ago.

I checked for the ear piece she’d been using before, it was stuffed into a hole in the side of her head, which I guessed was her ear.

I didn’t bring it too close to my ear, it was covered in red and orange, wax and blood.

I held it to the side of my head and fingered around in the dirt, repeating, “Gurl. Gurl.”

Eventually I found the right part and I heard her mocking tone, “Wow! Great job! You fucked her up! I’d be impressed if your file didn’t say you’ve one-shot monsters far bigger than her. You’re really soft, aren’t you? To show so much restraint.”

“Shut up,” I commanded.

She was acknowledging the fact that I was Shamrock, that half told me this was a private channel.

Unless that stuff about keeping my identity secret had been just another way to screw with me. With her, the tree could’ve fallen either way.

“Is Sruthan alright?” That came first.

“Obviously fucking not, are you a moron? She’s a hideous killing machine. Oh, wait, are you asking if she’ll die? Let me check... No. There’s no damage to her brain, and those fish creatures are resilient as all hell. At least, the three I know about are.”

I lowered my brow and stood up, heading south.

I was trying to ignore all the noise; from the car, the people peeking out of that bar-

I caught Bailey’s face for a second. It was the same face she’d made earlier that night. The one she made when she was trying to recognise who I was.

I flared my nostrils, asking Sea-threw Gurl a question, focusing on anything but the thought that I wasn’t that same boy who looked up to the blue sky all those years ago.

“The three you know about,” I repeated. Sruthan had only mentioned herself, someone called Bea, and Feoli.

Gurl had the audacity to laugh, “Yeah, guess who got sent to capture your little travel buddies! Yeah, it just so happened that this hotel provided a pretty good vantage point. I can see everything in the city from here. Well, I could already, but it’s a lot cooler from this angle.”

“Shut up,” I commanded.

“I don’t think I will,” she sighed, “you know, I've been pretty soft on you Sham. I think you're getting the wrong idea. I’m fine killing them.”

I didn’t stop walking. I just sped up, trying to get away from the eyes.

Though there was no escaping Gurl’s, “yeah, get your suit first. The boss wants to meet Shamrock, not a pasty little shit that gets so weepy eyed he can’t handle the bare minimum of human interactions. Like seriously, I was watching that shit with ‘Saoirse’. God, you were so lame. Did you think that if you just stood there and fidgeted at the door for long enough, she might’ve invited you in? Seriously, I wanna know just how deluded you are.”

I started to run.

“Well, your pathetic personality isn’t what I'm interested in. When you get here, which one do you want to be held at gun point? Actually, maybe I should skip ahead, you know? Like, shouldn’t one of them have their brains blown out when you get here to show I'm serious?”

My feet stalled for a moment, and I wondered if I should really be running across the country to get my costume when she’s threatening such things.

She saw me stop and teased, “Oh come on, I’m joking. If I end up killing one for no reason the boss’ll be pissed. He wants as many as he can get. Not to torment you, he hardly gives a fuck about you. He wants Clover.”

That one sentence tore me in half. There was a chance that these were empty threats to get me where they wanted me. Though I believed they were more interested in Clover than me, I doubted they wanted the two of us under the same roof, fighting side by side. The fact that Gurl had mostly focused on the group at the hotel corroborated that. It was totally her MO to simply use Clover to mess with me, to trip me up, make me emotional.

It might not have worked; she might have inadvertently encouraged me to go to Derry-

If she hadn’t continued.

“But like I've said, I’m content with simply fucking with you, and solely you! If I get in over my head with the Mountain again, I might not be lucky enough to get out alive. Hey, you haven’t answered my question yet. Which one do you like least? My first thoughts were Mullet, seeing as, by the looks of things, you never really get along. But for two people who claim to hate each other, you sure are alone a lot, you know? I guess Izzy might do. Hmm, but that doesn’t seem worth it, right? You hardly know her; I could just as easily take the janitor hostage.”

“Same goes for the girl in your art class... What about the people you know as Shamrock though? You swore to protect them didn’t you? It’d be tragic if Feoli died after she promised to turn herself around, after she became human. You know the original story of the little mermaid ends with her getting killed, right?”

I gritted my teeth and started running again, as she said, “No. She’s a Unit. It’d be like a punishment for failing to protect everybody here, right? That sort of things pretty common in redemption arcs... Alright! I’ve decided! Adonis it is! He’s pretty much the only person who actually believed you were a hero, wouldn’t it be horrible if he just... Hey, why don’t I let him talk to you.”

I waited for a second.

First there was only breathing on the mic. There was a ragged trail to the end of it.

And then he spoke. I blocked it out, crushed the rotten ear piece and sped off.

All I needed to hear was that pleading tone.

I thought she was right. They didn’t want or need Emmett. They needed a hero.

.

.

.

It was something like ten minutes. The drive that had nearly taken hours, I'd finished with nothing but my short little legs in a flash. I threw caution to the wind, or as far as I could manage. Where before I'd tried to be smart about my movements, and tried to keep out of sight, just five minutes ago I'd torn a block of dirt out of the ground and gotten changed in the middle of a park.

And now I was walking straight into this dead steel environment. The modern design clashed with me. As I walked to the elevator nobody stopped me.

I looked to the desk only to find that the woman sitting there who had looked so dead when we’d checked in... She was smiling slightly. Like she was relieved, just not the type of relief one would feel from being rescued.

Her face said, ‘oh good, my jobs nearly done’.

It was at that moment that I realised they’d bought this hotel out. They’d put their own people in place to monitor us, like the Sea-threw Gurl wasn’t doing a good enough job. They’d handled everything so cleanly; I could only imagine it was all thanks to Gurl’s monitoring.

I sorted through what she could and couldn’t have none as I walked up the stairs. She’d been watching from Derry at least... No, they must have been watching longer than that, the receptionist was in place when we got here-

I gripped to the railing on the stairs, realising that none of my analysing would do me any good. I needed a plan for how I was going to get out of this mess.

I cursed to myself, as I trotted up the stairs.

I cursed Clover, shifted blame to anyone but myself.

Why did I have to be so... weak. Weak to my own wants and desires. I should have learned my lesson from Irminsul, that if I keep stupidly grabbing to whatever makes me feel good, whether it’s the idea of a happy family and a relationship with a girl, or it’s slightly awkward car rides and laughing at monkey butts with a girl, why can’t I just-

I was having the same thought as on top of the roller coaster.

Why can’t I be content with myself?

I stopped to check the floor number.

I was there.

I slapped myself hard, answering my question.

I won’t be content until there is no more evil in this world.

I promised to save those innocent people, and that’s what I was going to do. I was going to save Adonis, the girl from my art class, and even Feoli. As far as I was concerned, the people up there deserved to be living honest lives.

...

I knocked on the hotel door, nearly identical to how I'd done right before Irminsul.

Except then, I'd hid to the side of the door. I was afraid of being attacked. This time I was standing upright, waiting.

Then I was called in with a joking line not worth writing out.

I had imagined that the place would be in a mess, but it seemed exactly how I'd left it.

Apart from the young woman standing in the middle of the room with a cloth over her eyes, and a hostage down on their knees at gun point.

It was Adonis. Nobody else was there.

That made me far angrier than anything else.

“Where...” I growled, but she cut me off, “Nope, that’s not how we’re doing things! Like I said the boss doesn’t care about you. This is all we’re willing to trade. Him for you.”

I stayed silent, trying to think. Not about the deal, about how I was going to take her out. Her x-ray vision would let her see every movement before I make it.

The only thing I could do was remain calm and not make any sudden movements that could be misinterpreted. I didn’t think she’d be willing to do it, but I couldn’t chance it.

That was one of the reasons that I'd simply walked through the front door. She’d seen every step I'd made on my way there; I was sure of that much. Even if I had rocketed in through the window behind her, or in through the roof, or the floor, she’d see it coming.

The only advantage I had was in the immaterial. The first thing that came to mind, was to use SP2, but I soon forgot about using it. There were no applications that would prove useful, even if I was willing to use it.

I honestly didn’t have much faith in the second plan.

“What’s the point of all this, Gurl?” I stood with my hands by my side, “Are you still having fun?”

“That’s the question you’re asking? Fuck, that’s really got me conflicted,” she laughed, then looked down at the back of Adonis’ head with a smile, “Is this fun? No. It’s work. When I get paid, then we'll have fun. If you do your job, then we’d all get along! You, me, Clover, Feoli, the boss- just play along, both of you.”

I looked down at Adonis.

“Come on shit head! You don’t have a choice. That fat whale you took out is fine by the way. She’ll be up in a couple hours. I said they were resilient, didn’t I? If you keep fighting, then it’ll be five against one. We already got Clover. It was easier than we thought it’d be, what type of idiot would call her goons off so she can have a ‘normal life’.”

That point piqued my interest. There weren’t any goons? She told me that she would have them watching her, waiting for the enemy to strike.

Unless this was somehow a part of her plan. Did she lay down her guns for a reason? Was that the best course of action?

I thought about what I was working with here. Who I was working with.

There were things that Gurl couldn’t see, things I could still take advantage of.

My thoughts.

I thought to myself, ‘Schism, When I figure out what the boss of Belfast’s powers are, free me from whatever they’ve got me trapped in, indestructible handcuffs, or a death trap, whatever, once I figure things out, get me out of there, and I'll tidy things up here. I will be an obstacle for the Mountain, Bastard...’

Though there was no sign that we were in agreement, I acted under that assumption, reluctantly.

Gurl was going on, as Adonis shifted on the ground quiet. Out of character.

I stopped her from rambling about how stupid Clover was, “Shut up, for once you selfish bitch.”

She snickered at that, but she wasn’t laughing when I took a couple steps forward and raised my hands, “What’s the matter? I’m just doing my job.”

Adonis looked up to me, his heart was clearly racing, and for a second I imagined that he’d do something he wasn’t supposed to.

“Give me the cuffs, put me in a cage, whatever. Try it.”

She didn’t know if I was giving in or bluffing. I put my arms out as if waiting to be hand cuffed.

She finally tapped the side of her head and said something. The door opened behind me and a person in tactical gear came out.

He instructed me on how to put the restraints on, they seemed like simple pieces of metal, two bits that clasped around my wrists tightly, clicking together. On further inspection, there were more grooves along the edges.

I was told to lie on my back and I did. Then I was told to stick my arms and feet up, and I did.

He clasped a similar piece of steel around my ankles, then he put the pieces of metal together, and to top it all off, he brought a large dome shaped like a bullet and locked away my hands and feet altogether, trapping me in that ridiculous pose.

“That’s subterrainium,” mocked the Sea-threw Gurl, “You might’ve heard of it. Pretty much indestructible, unless you know how to properly smelt the stuff. I won’t make any promises, if things go wrong for you with the boss, you might be stuck like that for the rest of your life.”

Laying on my back with my legs and arms sticking up into the air, I only had one thing to say.

“Let him go already. And I want to see him walking out of here.”

Gurl laughed, “You’re not in any position to argue-”

I frowned, “Is this not it? You know that if you double cross me, I can bite off your hand, right?”

She wasn’t laughing anymore. If anything, she seemed disappointed. Maybe a little scared.

“Or did you stop watching when I did that to Sruthan?”

She blew hot air out of her nose, “Leave him here for a minute.”

The man who’d restrained me did as he was told.

I was left waiting for her to let Adonis go. Seeing me tied up, Adonis simply closed his eyes.

Gurl started, “Hey, remember how you were trying to find out my identity a couple weeks ago?”

I didn’t answer her question, I just told her sternly, “Let the man go.”

She ignored me, “Well, I told you it was alright- that I wouldn’t leak who you are to anyone. And I haven’t. I won’t.”

With a little bit of hesitation, she tip-toed over to me, finally working up the courage to give me a light tap with her foot.

“You’re right. It’s only fair that I tell you the truth, yeah? Did you seriously think that we’d have everything planned out? That I'd be watching that group intently enough to figure out the exact hotel they were staying at, and move our people into it? You think we sorted that out in three days? All while keeping the police silent or flying under the radar”

I was looking up at that eyeless stare, waiting for her to go on. I eventually looked over to Adonis. He was looking at his knees.

Gurl clarified, “We already owned this place.”

I looked back to her as a cloth fell over my face. I struggled to shake it off for a second, as she said, “Remember, I’m being honest. I didn’t tell anyone. It wouldn’t be any good if other people knew who you are. Don’t go outing yourself.”

She picked off her head band from over my face, and I could finally see who she was.

“You’re...” She smiled fully, her grey eyes were dark and peering, yet proud. Like she’d just pulled some great and terrible joke on me.

Her eye brows twisted up as she laughed, “Yeah, I'm one of the people you were supposed to protect! Do you remember who brought me on this trip? Did Clover’s file cover that?” She skipped away back to Adonis.

My heart only sank further, SP2 responded to my depression, unlocking more little facets of that terrible power.

I realised that I had been played.

Adonis was free, and he looked over to me rubbing his wrists.

He managed a weak smile, and tried to speak.

I asked how long.

The girl answered, “Well, I started shortly after June, after the Mountain rejected me. That’s when he introduced me to the boss, ain’t that right babe?”

The metal fell to the ground with a crash as I rolled over, “Fuck off. Fuck right off!”

I shouted, at him, “How fucking long have you been watching us- watching me?”

His expression was like nothing I'd seen on his face before. The closest I could think was when he was a little drunk. I could hardly imagine that he was the same man that had spoken so highly of me in that car.

Adonis sighed, “Two years before we met. That's how long I've been working for Belfast.”

His throat was dry, there was nothing else for him to say.

I was at a loss of words. I just got out all the puzzle pieces I could find and started putting them together.

The girl from my art class was Sea-threw Gurl.

I didn’t want to admit it, but it absolutely made sense. Gurl had claimed that she had to ask around to find out who I was, who my friends were, but it would have been impossible for her to ask around if she didn’t at least know my name.

Very few people knew that. Only people who are in my classes.

Then there was Adonis.

How calm he’d been when I told him Gods were out there, his enthusiasm when he saw me and Feoli ‘performing’-

How much of it was real? When I encountered him in that coffee shop, did he only go in because I was there? Did I actually help him?

The answer was obvious. Yes. I helped him, his career, his relationship with Gurl. I had been playing right into Belfast’s hands, all this time I've been a puppet on their strings.

I closed my eyes.

That’s why he wanted both me and Feoli to show up to that kids party. That’s why he seemed so serious talking to her.

That’s why the fact she was a murderer didn’t faze him at all.

The girl retied her mask.

“All right, we’ve let that sink in for long enough. Now let’s bring in the muscle!” She fucking laughed as the door creaked open.

Half of me expected it to be the same man as before. It wasn’t.

It was who the other half had expected. She lifted me by my bindings before tucking her other hand beneath my back.

She stared into my mask, squinting her eyes slightly. Her skin was now blue, she’d done away with her disguise, wearing a similar cloak to Sruthan.

Feoli carried me out into the hall.

A wet sigh escaped my lips as I closed my eyes again.

I was sad, until I realised: This is what it feels like to be lied to.

All I could do was smile. Because if I didn’t, I'd have cried.