“Samson, what the hell happened?”

Not long after arriving at the Botany lab back in the first loop, Kim had been caught by an angry mob and ripped limb from limb. It was not the first time that had happened to her, nor would it be the last, but she was still mad about it. Now that the loopers were reconvening in their lair for loop two, she wanted answers.

“My dipshit brother destroyed the flower,” Samson grunted. “And then they killed me too, for whatever reason!”

“Well, you do have the exact same face as the guy who ruined everything forever,” Harley said.

“It was a flower! Are you guys still on about that?”

“It was an excellent flower, dear,” Lee said. “You’ll understand once your nose is healed.”

“I won’t- why are you talking like I’ll ever get to smell it?” Samson said.

“Yeah, guys, we have to destroy that flower,” Kim said. “It’s the daily apocalypse, right?”

“No, the daily apocalypse is Ibrahim destroying the flower,” Vell said. “Before that, everything was great.”

Kim and Samson exchanged a nervous look. The loopers obsession with the Power Flower had persisted along with their memories of its scent. As terrifying as that was, Samson was actually starting to get curious about how good this flower smelled. Anything that could break the willpower of a veteran looper had to be something special.

“Okay, we clearly have a problem,” Kim said. “So to prevent you guys from ripping me apart again-”

“We didn’t rip you apart,” Vell protested.

“Well you sure didn’t try that hard to stop them,” Kim snapped. “We need to sit here and talk about what we’re doing.”

“Okay, sure,” Vell said. “Do some pros and cons. Pro: the flower is great.”

“Con: the flower turned you all into lazy brainwashed hippies,” Kim said.

“And we were all perfectly happy with that until Ibrahim ruined everything,” Vell said.

“Yeah, he tends to do that,” Samson sighed.

Vell had been preparing another pro, but Samson’s snide comment disrupted his train of thought.

“You good, Samson?”

“My brother’s a piece of shit, so no.”

“Uh…”

“Oh, don’t get all concerned, only child,” Harley scoffed. “Having a sibling is just like that sometimes.”

Hawke, as one of the only other loopers with a sibling, nodded in agreement. Samson, on the other hand, shook his head.

“No. I’m not just having some petty little fight,” Samson said. “My brother’s a lazy, selfish, spiteful piece of shit and I’m done putting up with it.”

Any hope for his brother Samson had started to feel after getting his nose broken had swerved hard the other way. Ibrahim had made it very clear that he didn’t really regret anything he’d done, or have any plans to change the way he behaved. The only thing Ibrahim ever regretted were tangible consequences, like Samson’s broken nose.

“Well...do you want to take a break, Samson?” Hawke asked. “You seem like you’re having a rough go of it.”

“I would love to take a break, Hawke,” Samson said. “But I can’t, because I’m one of two people in this room that hasn’t been brainwashed by a god damn tulip!”

“Orchid,” Lee said. Samson glared daggers at her from above his broken nose. “What? It was a derivative of an orchid. Factual accuracy is important.”

“Okay, so let’s talk facts. What else do you know about the Power Flower?”

“The Power Flo-”

“Kim named it, not me,” Samson snapped. “Answer the question!”

“Okay, okay, geez,” Hawke said. “Vell, you were the first person to find out about the flower, right?”

“Yeah, Skye texted me to come check it out around noon,” Vell said. “Given how much time it would take for word to spread, we should assume it was created at least two hours before that, if not earlier.”

“So we’ve got a few hours to work with,” Samson said. “Freddy was talking about having to clone the flower instead of just growing new ones. Was there something that made that flower unique?”

“Oh, yes, it was very important, actually,” Lee said. “They were making random genetically mutated strains for...I don’t think they had a reason beyond fucking with orchid DNA, frankly, but the important part is that one of their variations blossomed into that wonderful flower. They had the common sense to make all their random variant mutations sterile, to avoid cross-fertilizing something dangerous, so the flower had to be cloned rather than conventionally pollinated.”

“Okay, and presumably they couldn’t just pull the same random mutation again?”

“No. Which is why it’s so imperative we not allow Ibrahim or anyone else to destroy the flower this time around. It’s irreplaceable.”

The room fell into a silent and entirely lopsided standoff, with Kim and Samson forced to try and hold their ground against the scrutinizing stares of the other four loopers. It didn’t go well.

“We are not destroying the flower,” Lee said. “That’s final.”

“You being so obsessed with it is kind of more proof that it’s the apocalypse,” Kim said.

“Why do we automatically have to be suspicious of the best thing that’s ever happened to us?”

“Are you listening to yourself?” Kim said. “It’s a fucking flower.”

“He’s got a point,” Vell said. “After years of the dumbest, most destructive bullshit imaginable, there’s something actually good, and your first instinct is to wreck it?”

Kim could not actually get headaches, but she rubbed her temples anyway. This discussion was going in circles. The memory of the Power Flower’s scent was too fresh in their heads for any of the loopers to think straight. There’d be no convincing them like this.

“Sorry about this, Samson,” Kim said.

“Hey, we’re not backing down yet,” Samson insisted.

“Oh I’m not backing down.”

Kim jumped out of your chair, dashed towards the door, and cannonballed into it. Her metal body made a loud clanging sound as it bounced off the looper lair’s reinforced door, leaving behind a small Kim-shaped dent.

“Forgot how dense that thing is,” Kim grunted, as she picked herself up off the floor. “Later!”

The door opened and then slammed shut behind her as Kim tore through and then snapped the doorknob off. Harley caught up and tugged on the now-useless handle before slamming a fist into the Kim-shaped dent on the door.

“Kim!”

“She must be trying to sabotage the flower,” Lee said. “Vell, do you have something that can get the door open?”

“On it,” Vell said. He summoned a few runes and started connecting them, only to look up and find that Samson had put himself between Vell and the door. “Come on, Samson. Don’t be like that.”

“You’ll thank us later,” Samson said. He wasn’t sure how much he could actually do to delay the other loopers, but he had to try something.

“I’m not usually thankful for insurrection,” Lee said.

“I do like sticking it to the man, but not when I’m the man getting stuck it to,” Harley added.

“Well you’re going to have to deal with it,” Samson said. “Because I’m not letting you past me, and what are you going to do, beat up the guy who already has a broken nose?”

Lee snapped her fingers, cast a spell, and levitated Samson ten feet to the right.

“Oh right, magic.”

Vell slapped his rune sequence on the door, but Samson grabbed him by the arm and pulled him away before he could finish it. With a quick wiggle of his arm, Vell deftly removed himself from Samson’s grip.

“Do us all a favor and take a step back, Samson,” Vell said. “You’re just making things worse.”

“Kim’s barreling headlong into causing the apocalypse, and you’re helping her,” Lee scolded.

“It is completely the other way around,” Samson said. He knew they wouldn’t listen, but talking was about all he could do. Every second they spent talking to him was a second they weren’t trying to protect the flower.

“Samson-”

“Hey, don’t talk to him,” Harley said. “Every second we spend talking to him is a second we aren’t trying to protect the flower.”

“Shit.”

Not for the first time, Samson became keenly aware that all of the other loopers were smarter, stronger, and more experienced than him. He backed away and hoped Kim would work fast, because he did not have anything even resembling a plan. The only thing he had going for him was the fact that the other loopers were still relatively in control of their actions, and probably wouldn’t hurt him.

Samson had a very bad idea. So bad he didn’t even bother pretending it was a good one, even to himself. But it was an idea.

“Hey Vell!”

“Yeah, what- the fuck.”

The runes he was working on clattered to the ground as Vell threw his hands up and caught the chair Samson had thrown at him. The arm of the chair barely bumped into Vell’s nose as he caught it. While his quick reflexes saved his face, they were not enough to defend him from Samson’s next attack. Vell looked down and felt a moment of intense mortal terror as Samson’s foot slammed into his groin. The chair dropped as Vell doubled over in pain.

“Three years,” Vell groaned, as he looked up at Samson with the shock of betrayal in his eyes. "Three years I managed to avoid this, and you-”

The accusatory sentence ended as Vell sank to the ground and tried to take deep breaths. Harley grabbed Samson by the shoulders and pushed him away.

“Low blow, Samson,” Harley shouted, with no pun intended. “I could forgive you trying to fuck with us, but a nutshot is over the line!”

“I got to stop you guys somehow,” Samson said. “It’s for your own good.”

Once Harley had backed Samson against a wall, Lee used a bit of hydrokinesis to freeze his arms in place firmly enough to prevent any chair-throwing. Then, for good measure, she also froze his legs. Nobody was planning on standing anywhere near him for the immediate future, but it reduced his chances of further dick-kicking from low to zero.

“Do remember to wriggle around a bit every now and then to warm up. The cold won’t cause any damage, but it’ll help you stay comfortable. Also, take some time to reflect on interpersonal problem solving methods that don’t involve violence.”

“Especially dick based violence,” Harley said.

“Yes, especially that,” Lee said.

Vell was already back on his feet and getting the door open, albeit slowly. Once it was open, he limped out the door, followed shortly thereafter by Lee and Harley. Harley shot him a dirty look on the way out and then slammed the door shut behind her, leaving Samson stuck to a wall.

After wriggling helplessly against his bonds for a while, Samson embraced the fact that he was well and truly stuck. Lee’s ice was slowly melting, but given the size of the bonds and the strength of her magic, it would still be several minutes before Samson could free himself. Until then, all he could do was hope he’d delayed enough for Kim to wreck the flower before it could bloom.

“Could’ve put my phone in my hand,” Samson mumbled to no one. “Let me watch some Youtube videos or something.”

Samson struggled to find other ways to entertain himself until the ice melted enough that he could free one of his arms. He bashed his way through the ice holding his other arm, then did the same for his feet, and wandered out of the lair. He’d been trapped for a little more than ten minutes, hopefully enough time for the apocalypse to be averted. He headed for the botany lab anyway.

Everything seemed normal on the way over, at least for the time being. People were still shuffling between classes and talking to each other normally, rather than lounging around and making flower crowns. Samson considered that a good sign. What he did not consider a good sign was a face all too similar to his coming the other way.

“Hey, Sammie!”

“Not now, Ibrahim.”

Samson tried to swerve hard out of the way and take a different route to the botany lab, but Ibrahim followed him.

“Hey, what’s the hurry? I thought you were going to try and relax today.”

“Life’s never that easy,” Samson grumbled.

“Can I help, or is it something with that club of freaks?”

Samson stopped in his tracks and spun around to face his twin.

“You know, you actually could help me and the ‘club of freaks’ if you weren’t such an asshole,” Samson said. “If you ever felt like helping me, with anything, at all, ever.”

“Hey.”

“What? The only nice things you’ve done for me all year are part of a half-assed apology for getting my face broken,” Samson snapped, pointing at his still-broken nose. “Other than that all you’ve done is make both our lives worse. You don’t study, don’t do schoolwork, you fuck around with every girl you meet, and you act like an asshole to me and my friends when we’re just trying to help. Fuck you.”

Ibrahim looked like he’d been stabbed in the gut. Samson twisted the knife.

“I have to go do something actually helpful,” Samson said. “So stay far, far away from me.”

Samson stormed off, leaving a very offended and very confused Ibrahim behind. He had no idea what he’d done to deserve that verbal thrashing. That was partly due to Ibrahim’s own cluelessness, and partly due to the fact Samson was pissed off about events that had been erased from the timeline. Ibrahim was a dick, but most of his dickishness had been devoured by the time loops, leaving him more than a little befuddled by Samson’s sudden rage.

The one twin that possessed inexplicable temporal awareness was currently more focused on preventing a flower from brainwashing all his friends, and Samson stormed to the botany lab with little concern for his brother’s confusion. He pushed past a student carrying a bucket of seeds, nearly causing her to spill them, and then slammed through the door into the central lab. He made it a few steps before stubbing his toe on something heavy and metallic.

He let out a resigned sigh and looked down to see Kim’s arm lying on the floor, with the rest of Kim in several pieces around the room.

“Hello dear,” Lee said. She was using magic to keep a crazed botany student at bay, with said botany student hammering away at the barrier with one of Kim’s legs. “The good news is, we think you might be right about the flower.”

Samson and Kim’s behavior had, at least, convinced Lee to magically cancel out their sense of smell, so they could appraise the situation as neutral parties. “The situation” had consisted of Kim being torn apart by angry botanists, so it had been easy to pick a side.

“The bad news is they already made the flower,” Vell said. Apparently they’d made it hours ago, it had just taken a long time for awareness of its intoxicating scent to spread.

“And that they ripped me apart,” Kim said. Her head was currently tucked under Vell’s arm as he ran from a botanist wielding a cactus as a club. Her attempts to sabotage the flower had provoked the ire of its creators.

“That too, but it’s slightly less important,” Vell said. He jumped forward and dodged a swing from the cactus. A few needles embedded in the floor where he’d just been.

“Go warn Freddy and Cane and the rest of the guys,” Harley said. She had a botanist pinned and was wrestling with them for possession of Kim’s torso. “Tell them to get the gas mask gear from the cigar incident.”

“The cigar inc-”

“They’ll know what it means! Go!”

An angry looking botanist with a carnivorous plant was coming Samson’s way, so he didn’t bother questioning Harley’s orders. He ran and slammed the door shut behind him just as the carnivorous plants jaws snapped at him. Today just kept getting worse.

“Alright, so, cool gas masks and all,” Samson said.

Freddy nodded. The tightly-sealed gas masks had powerful enough filters to hopefully keep the Power Flower’s scent at bay.

“Can I get an explanation for the cigar incident now?”

“The Board of Directors came by to bother Lee about something and one of them was smoking the fattest, nastiest cigar in the universe,” Luke explained. “We had to wear these just to be around them. Told ‘em it was a psychological experiment.”

“The Board of Directors?” Samson said. He’d heard of them, but not had the displeasure of meeting them yet. “Those super old dudes? Don’t they have like half a functioning lung between the seven of them?”

“You don’t get to be a hundred year old evil millionaire by making good decisions, champ,” Cane said. “Everybody masked up?”

The small group of friends gave a quick thumbs up.

“Alright then. Samson, you’re the only one of us who doesn’t need to wear a big stupid face mask,” Luke said. “You handle the call.”

In spite of the gas masks, physically entering the lab still came with the risks of flower exposure, and also the risk of being attacked by angry botanists, so they had agreed to start with a phone call. Kim’s phone was built into her head, so she’d be able to answer and update them on the situation.

“Kim? Are you okay?”

“Relatively speaking,” Kim replied. “We struck a truce with the botanists and they gave me my arms back. Weirdos still got my legs, though.”

“Well, that’s progress,” Samson said. He switched the call to speaker to let the rest of the gang listen in. “You said you’ve got a truce, are they like, listening to you?”

“Well, truce is a strong word,” Kim said. “Maybe more of a standoff. We’re not trying to hurt the flower, and they’re not trying to beat Vell to death with a cactus anymore.”

“Well, that’s...less progress.”

“Yeah,” Kim said. “How’re things outside?”

“Not great,” Samson said. “The smell is starting to spread a bit.”

Not only was the flower’s aroma progressively spreading around the area, more and more people were gravitating towards it as friends spread the word about the incredible fragrance. The loopers attack had caused the jealous botanists to seal access to their labs, but students were conglomerating around doors and air vents where the aroma was leaking through.

“Okay, cool, so we’re surrounded by an angry mob in the making,” Kim said. “If we do anything to hurt that flower they’re going to kill us.”

Kim kept her phrasing hypothetical, for the sake of the non-loopers who were listening, but the threat was anything but hypothetical. They had a legion of angry botanists glaring at them already, and the plant hadn’t even been harmed yet.

“Can you just blow it up and run?” Luke suggested. “We can work on clearing an escape route for you.”

“Lee says that’s a bad idea,” Kim said. “Even if we all disappeared, all that anger would get directed somewhere. We don’t want a riot on our hands.”

Destroying the plant would be easy. Ibrahim had destroyed it just by throwing the pot on the ground in the past loop. Lee could’ve snapped her fingers and obliterated it entirely in a moment, if she were so inclined. The problem was the violent rage that would result from the flower’s destruction.

“Just going to play devil’s advocate real quick,” Cane said. “What if we tricked someone we don’t like into ruining the flower? Find somebody who deserves to get their ass beat, you know?”

“We’ll call that plan Z,” Kim said, echoing Lee’s sentiments. “I’m not sure we know anyone who deserves that kind of violence.”

“I could just ask Ibrahim,” Samson said. “He deserves it.”

Though he could not see it, no less than four people standing behind Samson rolled their eyes, as did a few on the other end of the phone call. He was too busy stewing in his own anger to notice. Even under the dire circumstances, he was still thinking about all the ways Ibrahim had pissed him off, and all the ways he’d put too much effort into trying to help his brother.

A lightbulb went off in his head.

“Hold on, guys,” Samson said. “I might have something that can help in my dorm.”

Without another word, he set off on his own, looking for a single small scrap of paper.

It had been about fifteen minutes, and with no word from Samson, the loopers were brainstorming other solutions. The crowd of students surrounding the flower was getting larger and larger every minute, and they needed to act fast. The appealing aroma of the Power Flower had, at least, tranquilized most of the students into a state of blissful contentment, so Vell and company could do their strategizing without having to worry about any cactus attacks.

“I think if I’m careful, I can do the same spell to all of them as I did to us,” Lee said, pointing to her own nose for emphasis. “It’s not guaranteed, but it could work.”

Lee’d been forced to cobble together the spell on her own, since no other mage had ever had a reason to negate someone’s sense of smell. It had not been particularly difficult to do it to herself and her friends, but magic was always easier on a willing target, on a small handful of them. Casting the same spell on dozens of unwilling subjects was not as easy.

“Okay, let’s say that happens, then what?”

“We tell them exposure to the pollen killed their sense of smell, or something to that effect,” Lee said.

“What do we do if losing their smell makes them mad again?”

Hawke was still hauling Kim around, as the botanists had not yet returned her legs. He was willing to help his best friend for as long as she needed, but her metal body was very heavy and not very easy to carry when fleeing from crazed flower fetishists.

“I’m hoping they’ll just be sad rather than angry.”

The door had opened enough times that the loopers no longer paid attention to it. Enough new arrivals had come to the lab that the exact amount no longer mattered. Vell ignored the new arrival in the room -until an all-too familiar chill ran down his spine.

The large crowd of flower-drunk students felt the same chill. The clustered crowd parted, and half made flower crowns dropped to the ground. One of the floral ringlets got snatched out of the air, examined momentarily, and then incinerated on the spot by Alistair Kraid.

“Pathetic.”

More of the students fled from his approach, giving Kraid a clear shot to the brilliant blue petals of the Power Flower. After taking a look around at the crowd of people enchanted by the fragrance, he ran his skeletal fingers across one of the petals, then took a deep breath of the overpowering aroma.

“Hmm. That is wonderful.”

The aroma enthralled Kraid far more than he’d been expecting. He felt genuinely delighted and happy. Unfortunately for the flower, and for the world at large, nothing made Kraid happier than making other people miserable.

Kraid grabbed the flower by the stem, ripped it out by the roots, and then incinerated the entire plant in a single burst of black fire. The burst of magical flames burned so hot not even ash was left behind, and any lingering scent of the flower was eradicated by the superheated air. A few screams of despair or rage were quickly muted when the flower-obsessed students remembered they were facing off with Kraid.

The flower murderer himself turned his back to the desecrated flower pot and scanned the crowd. His cold green eyes met every angry glare turned his way, and silently dared them to try and challenge him. Not a single one rose to the occasion. With a bemused chuckle of superiority, Kraid crossed his arms behind his back and walked out of the room, basking in the utter rage and misery that he had created. He spared only the quickest sly glance in Vell’s direction, and flashed a mocking smile before he left the room.

As soon as he was gone, the mourning started in earnest. Most of the crowd started crying, while the botanists rushed into action to see if they could somehow recreate the one of a kind flower. The loopers waited a few seconds and then awkwardly shuffled out of the room, leaving the flower mourners behind. Hawke was the last out the door, and shut it very firmly behind him.

“Well. Problem solved, I guess.”

While it was an act of pointless cruelty, it was close to an ideal end to the Power Flower problem. No matter how sad or angry they were, nobody was stupid enough to try and take Kraid in a straight fight, so there was no risk of violence in reprisal.

“Problems are never solved where Alistair Kraid is involved,” Lee said. They’d learned the hard way, several times, that he never did anything without some kind of ulterior motive. “What could he-”

“Samson!”

Vell snapped to attention and then dashed out of the lab as fast as he could. It took a moment for the other loopers to catch up to his thought process, and to catch up to him physically. Once they had done both, they found Vell standing a few feet away from a park bench, where both Samson and Kraid were waiting.

“Howdy, Harlan” Kraid said. “Just talking to my new friend.”

“He’s just talking shit, don’t listen to him,” Samson said.

“But you did call him here, right?”

For the past few weeks, Vell had assumed Samson had thrown away the business card Kraid had given him on their last meeting. Kraid’s suspiciously timed arrival had made him suspect that wasn’t the case.

“Yeah, I just told him he could make a lot of people miserable really easily,” Samson said. Kraid nodded in agreement. The misery alone had been worth the trip. Getting to taunt Vell was just a nice bonus.

“What on earth made you think that was a good idea?”

“It worked, didn’t it?”

“Ooh, petty drama,” Kraid said. “As much as I love watching you all argue over inane grievances, this is the part where I exit stage left.”

Kraid genuinely did not enjoy petty arguments, but leaving served a dual purpose. He really hadn’t asked Samson for any information or favors -based on their last meeting and his observations of the gang, he doubted he would really get anything useful out of Samson under the current circumstances. But nobody else knew that, and from the sounds of things, they wouldn’t believe Samson when he told them. Leaving now would help that seed of doubt to flourish, a fact Kraid relished as he stalked away from the loopers.

After double-checking for bugs and relocating to Lee’s dorm for additional security, the loopers started the proper scolding. While Hawke left to reassemble Kim, Vell, Lee and Harley took over stern-talking-to duty.

“What the fuck were you thinking, Samson?”

“I’m thinking we needed a solution, and we got a solution,” Samson said.

“Kraid is not a solution! He is the opposite of a solution,” Vell said. “He goes out of his way to cause problems on purpose, and you invited him here!”

“And it worked, so why are you riding my ass?”

With voices and tempers rising, Lee took the initiative and very forcibly inserted herself into the conversation by literally placing herself between Samson and Vell.

“I think perhaps we should continue this conversation some other time,” Lee said. “You’ve both been through quite a lot today.”

“Yeah, I have had a pretty rough day, someone kicked me in the dick,” Vell said.

“Vell.”

Samson was glad Lee got involved, because he didn’t actually have a counter for that. Considering the timeline of events, his kick hadn’t actually helped at all. The flower had been created long before Vell had limped out of the lair.

“Fine. Sorry,” Vell said. Then, to avoid any further confrontation, he excused himself and went to go find some scotch. He needed a drink.

“Thanks, Lee,” Samson said. He didn’t need the stress of an argument with Vell right now.

“You’re welcome,” Lee said. “But don’t excuse my patience for acceptance. I do believe you were mistaken.”

“Okay, wow, thanks,” Samson said. He was getting sick of doing so much work for so little gratitude. “Guess I get to be the good looper and the good twin.”

Harley crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. Samson had seen that pose several times before, always when a severe verbal thrashing was about to happen. He braced himself.

“The good twin?” Harley scoffed. “Say what you will about Ibrahim, he’s never kicked my friend in the nuts or invited a supervillain over. This isn’t a fucking fairy tale, Samson. There’s not a good twin and bad twin. Just two people who can both be assholes sometimes.”

Harley walked up him and put a finger on Samson’s forehead, just above the bridge of his nose. The poke wasn’t enough to cause any pain in his broken nose, but the pressure was a firm reminder.

“Asshole.”

She gave a slight push, and Samson wobbled unsteadily. By the time he regained his balance, Lee and Harley were gone, and he was alone.