A cellphone’s timed alarm could be loud and annoying, but that was hardly a concern when the ringing was shut down almost as soon as it began, and Edmond Bach had not wasted even five seconds to do so.

  Should’ve turned it off before...

  Was he a ‘morning person’? Maybe he was on the better end of things, but the ease with which he defeated his wake-up alarm had much less glamorous reasons.

  After all, his sleep had been anything but deep, and more like a clumsy series of intermittent naps. He had last woken up around forty minutes before the time he intended to get out of bed.

  With a final, futile attempt to get some more rest ending in failure, he had at least saved himself one of the most prevalent morning tragedies.

  I have… three hours or so before the airport stuff. Good enough.

  He was not the kind to dwell on such things, however, especially when the exciting motive of his troubled slumber was so soon. Just thinking of the incoming event was enough to make a boyish grin spread shamelessly on his face.

  But there were still several things to do before then.

  Breakfast, brushing, shower… and of course, training alongside everything else.

  Edmond’s smile disappeared soon, replaced by a resolute expression as he raised his body and turned, sitting at the side of his untidy bed.

  Closing his eyes and breathing one, two… five times in an attempt to relax just enough, he proceeded.

  Conscious intake of prana, the first step of sorcery, was an easy enough process for those that were appropriately initiated. Despite still being an unnatural phenomenon for humans, habitual practice eventually did away with the strangeness and made way for something more intuitive. This was especially the case for a knight, even a cadet with just a few years of experience.

  The accompanying pain was enough to make him tremble briefly, but it was nothing he could not handle. Prana flowed through the inviting filter without hesitation, in and out with a delicate, yet willful pace.

  Until now, everything was normal. It was the next activity that was not even close to what other cadets might do.

  For as soon as he felt the adequate amount of prana within his body, rather than transform it into a proper spell, Edmond locked it down as he began to stand up.

  “… Pssh…!”

  Pain was hardly enough of a word to describe the burst that suddenly assaulted his senses. Every time, it felt like he would scream out loud if he was not careful. The mere act of standing up, let alone cooking or washing himself, made his body feel like it circulated lightning instead of blood.

  But even under such torment, making his attempts at relaxing through breath like inhaling shrapnel, Edmond did not release the prana within him. He could not do it yet.

  Going through his morning routine in such a state, his body would inevitably build up tremendous levels of stress through the trapped prana, stress that would recover in the presence… no, infection of such prana as well, improving on any progress achieved.

  The core idea was a result anyone familiar with sorcery, capable of letting prana flow through them as they exercise, would be aware of. The mechanism itself was similar enough to normal exercise, even.

  Edmond could not be satisfied with just that, however. As long as there was something more he could do, no matter how difficult or excruciating, he had to do it if it was at all possible.

  No matter how much time passed, the greatest obstacle for someone with the dream he pursued would always remain unknown. Thus, he could not afford to be lax in any of his preparations.

  Like such, another morning of Edmond Bach’s routine; breakfast, brushing, shower and training, passed by in the usual way.

  Seyfelt’s Polaris Airport was not large.

  A hub covered by windows with a unique, oval architecture and a tasteful interior in diverse shades of blue across the floor and walls alike, it certainly suited the tastes of many. However, the city was overall more suited to residence than to tourism, especially in the weeks leading up to the winter months. Not many tourists were likely to spend their winter within an urban jungle.

  As a result, a small airport and the one train station that handled inter-province trips were more than enough to meet needs and leisure.

  “(So you’re skipping work?)”

  “I’m not skipping. I told the manager and the owner over a week in advance, and I’m still going to be there for my night shift.”

  Strolling through the largely desolate and silent airport halls, Edmond spoke on the phone without much else to concern himself with. After the long walk from his apartment to the airport in such a cold weather, holding the device close to his ear and cheek was indeed pleasant. A hoodie, jeans and boots did a good enough job, but not for his exposed face.

  “(Still, it’s weird that you would call in absent. Is it so important that you’re the one to pick her up?)”

  “… Yeah. It’s been over four years.” Edmond replied with a slightly guilty, but ultimately jovial smile.

  So much had happened since then. Some things better than others, and there was no chance either of them was quite the same as back in the day. The circumstances around this visit were also far from ideal, and it would not have been an exaggeration to say they were on the unfortunate side of things.

  Edmond’s thoughts went through such issues and many more, each as worrying as the last.

  But still, he could not help but be thrilled about this reunion. A feeling conveyed in an almost embarrassingly obvious way to the other end of the communication line.

  “(… Just be sure to not go too crazy today, alright? Remember tomorrow is when activities resume.)”

  “No issue. There’s also been some gang stuff happening lately so I have no interest in going out late.”

  “(Really, if they want to live in that city, more people your age should be reading on the police reports—[Just let him go already! You’re going to ruin a reunion of years!]—I’m on it! This is important for safety reasons, asshole! Ugh… I’ll get out of your hair, Ed. Just have a nice get-together or something...)”

  It was one thing to be able to talk with two of his senior knights on the cellphone, private numbers at that. But to hear them have a spat like an old married couple… it was slightly beyond what Edmond could handle, letting out a quiet chuckle much like a boy laughing in math class.

  “R-Right… I’ll be in contact, Ms. Alyssa.”

  He normally would not feel rushed to end such a hilarious conversation, but Alexander’s speech in the background had proper reasons for it. Reasons that were especially relevant now, as Edmond glanced upon the person walking out one of the arrival hallways.

  A girl carrying impractically huge luggage bags in each hand, one slung over her shoulder, yet having a gait that seemed completely alien to the stress of carrying weight. With nothing more than a red cardigan over a plain t-shirt, jeans hugging a lean outline and sneakers; one could probably add ‘crippling cold’ to the list of worries she ignored.

  Her hair had grown out to the small of her back, but between its wheat-like blonde color, her profound maroon irises and a look as boldly intense as a tiger’s, Edmond felt like he had gone back in time for a solid second, silent even by the moment the girl had arrived before him.

  “Well, hello Stranger. Waiting for someone special?”

  It had never been such a struggle to just restrain a smile.

  “Nah, just a friend with some dementia.”

  But her reaction to his reply could not be more different, cackling without the slightest bit of shame. It was turning out to be rather convenient that the airport was so barren…

  … No, she would laugh just as loudly even if it were filled to the brim. Hildegard Tirpitz was just that much of an unruly person.

  “Phew… I can say your timing has gotten better than before. Now, could you…?”

  Still letting out a few snickers, Hilda extended a hand. The one carrying one of her bags normally, rather than over her shoulder.

  “Do you need to ask?”

  From the moment she began raising her arm, Edmond had already approached to pick it up… before tumbling from the ungodly weight assaulting his arm, shoulder and more.

  Is she carrying a shrunk griffin or something!?

  His worries were misplaced and far too late, though.

  Before he could look back up or even get used to the luggage’s weight, Hilda had already pulled Edmond’s hood over his head, then all the way down to his chest.

  “Your timing’s gotten better, but you’re still as gullible as ever, Mondi!”

  Are we really doing this now!?

  The weird, embarrassing nickname by which only the members of one household called him caused him to briefly forget his predicament.

  Childish harassment as it was, the efficacy of it was nothing to scoff at. Hood held in an iron grip past his chin, Edmond could do little else but flail around like a wind-up toy.

  Despite that, he was far from defenseless. And ready to prove it too.

  Through mixing spatial awareness with an intense, if somewhat petty desire for retribution, he needed just a few seconds to aim his hand in the right direction.

  That was, toward Hilda’s lower behind, before ruthlessly pulling upward and subjecting her to a gruesome wedgie.

  “… Blahk!”

  The girl’s squeak, like that of a cat with its tail suddenly being stepped on, was beyond miserable.

  “I got the first move! Accept you got creamed!”

  “Excuses! You just know I got you worse!”

  If he were to think things more calmly, Edmond would have been very thankful that there were no passersby to witness such a display of sheer immaturity.

  He did not have the time for that, however, as after just a few seconds of this strange tug of war, worsened by the heavy luggage they both carried, neither of the two… ‘combatants’ could maintain their balance anymore.

  “Watch o…!”

  “Shit…!”

  A spectacular fall from the young man and woman, not lacking in painful entanglement and hard bumps on the stone-cold airport floor. Her luggage falling in a similar manner, the dry sound produced by it was somehow quicker and also much more concerning. Worrying enough to decisively silence Edmond and Hilda for one, two…

  “P-Pffftt…!”

  … three seconds, before they finally could not resist the trembling surge from deep within and childish laughter came out without any modesty.

  Worries, anxiety… every matter of concern. They had all been blown away like mere embers before anyone noticed, leaving only a brilliant flame of wonderful memories in their place.

  After a rather unorthodox reunion at the airport, the chilling outside breeze felt nearly therapeutical. Standing on the sidewalk a couple dozen meters from the airport’s entrance, the wait seemed to be bearable for all of ten seconds.

  “You didn’t call the taxi ahead of time? What kind of airport greeting is this? Especially when it’s this cold!” Hilda’s complaints seemed almost tailor-made to annoy Edmond.

  “I told you it was super cold already and you still came dressed like that.” Edmond’s voice turned to an annoyed grumble as he put his cellphone back into his pocket. “Also, are you even aware of how heavy those bags are? I swear those would stop most cars from moving, so I probably saved myself a bunch of money by waiting till now.”

  And the girl’s narrowed eyes, coupled with a knowing smirk, did little to alleviate said annoyance.

  “Resolved to pay that off yourself? Now that’s clean.”

  “And it would mean eggplant gratin for your first two lunches in town~.”

  Thankfully, such behavior also meant his bite-back was still on point, causing Hilda’s expression to sour very quickly after hearing the bitter vegetable’s mention.

  “Dick. But more importantly, are you going to keep acting like everything’s peachy or will you tell me about this hair disaster already?” She asked while roughly pulling on Edmond’s locks for about a second, perhaps as much in retaliation as out of curiosity.

  Retaining about the same texture and fullness expected of someone his age, it was their color that had significantly grayed out, akin to a much older person’s instead.

  Non-standard hair colors were not impossible or even that rare depending on the area of the world one lived in, or the diverse phenomena one could experience, but Edmond knew Hilda was not asking about the color itself.

  It was the change from what she remembered that was the concern.

  “Mm. Filtering accident, about a year ago.”

  “Really? Just what did you mess up so badly?”

  Hilda’s surprise was understandable.

  The core principle of sorcery was filtering prana through one’s body. Taking in that foreign power source and transforming it into whatever tool the sorcerer needed. After enough learning and practice, many people could perform it about as easily as any other artist or athlete would their respective craft.

  Nonetheless, adequate training decreasing the chances for mistakes did not erase the damage caused when they did happen. And when manipulating such a volatile resource, that damage could range from mild to truly severe.

  Edmond sighed, then followed on.

  “It’s whatever. What with most unpowereds thinking regulators are meant to cast spells, I can use a wake-up call to remind myself of how things truly are. I even got off pretty light, I’d say.”

  “True that. I’ve heard of people who lost whole senses due to filtering accidents, or their skin turned transparent. I even read about a guy who after ten whole years with no issues had multi-organ failu—”

  “Okay, okay, I get it! Shut up!”

  Hilda’s hyena-like cackling could still be heard clearly, even past Edmond’s hands covering his ears. An ineffective shield she still wasted no time in trying to tear down.

  “Aww, come on! I have like five more stories~.”

  “Like I give a shit! Seriously, don’t you have anything else to talk about?”

  “Eeh… hmm, I guess there’s something I could ask. It’s not just me who’s new in town, but my teammates too.”

  While still trembling slightly from the increasingly disturbing stories, Edmond showed a level of surprise so obvious as to be slightly embarrassing.

  “Teammates as a cadet? Aren’t you just a third-year?”

  “Yup. One of them is kind of an asshole and another one is the asshole’s shut-in bff, but the four of us do pretty well together, so it tends to work out. Anyways, they only got here a few days ago, so would it be fine if they tag along when you show me around proper?”

  Her request was surprisingly normal and polite.

  So much so as to be ‘un-Hildae-like’, for more than a few reasons.

  This girl of all people, asking politely if I can help others out?

  His next words came out before he could even think of holding back.

  “How much do you owe?”

  “Okay, that’s actually too mean.”

  “It’s a joke! Sorry, sorry, I really am. It’s just… you know. You never were the type to go out of your way for something like that, get it? Remember when you brought over that big snake even though Nora and Christoph were also at the party?”

  Hilda frowned immediately, almost sulking. She even glanced slightly away as she pouted, which Edmond could not deny gave him a unique feeling of satisfaction.

  “It was wounded. Those wusses should have been more understanding if anything.”

  “I… agree on principle, but still blaming the one who threw up and the one who blacked out is not cool.”

  Edmond could hardly be more thankful for the gradually arriving taxi, almost feeling Hilda’s fiery rebuttal before she even opened her mouth.

  “And that’s our ride!”

  “You rodent… but wait, Mondi.”

  “Hm?” He turned back to her, right before opening the minivan’s door.

  Hilda’s visage was so serious, so stern and grim, that Edmond was nearly overcome by an unnatural need to gulp.

  “Just in case, about the whole Exelica Front Seat incid—”

  “Don’t you dare finish those words.”

  Considering the topic, such an expression from her was nothing if not warranted. No one who did not already know about it should ever become aware of that event.

  As he entered the taxi’s back seat right after Hilda, Edmond was convinced his thoughts were not very different from hers.

  Upon remembering it once more, what had once been so hilarious would probably result in a week’s worth of embarrassed screaming into his pillow at night.

  Not that Mr. Nielsen did not deserve every bit of that tragedy, though.

  While Seyfelt’s residential district as a whole was distinguished by its eponymous function, the citizens’ different preferences resulted in considerable variety if one were to compare its specific areas.

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  Out of the places this was most noticeable in, one was the northeastern quadrant, which was closer to the education and business districts. Another would be the southwestern area, nearer in proximity to the Knight training facility and the entertainment district.

  Accustomed to his apartment and other similar buildings in the latter, often occupied by people who either worked or slept with little else in-between, Edmond’s visits to the former were quite pleasant. He could even go as far as to say he looked forward to them all.

  Numerous houses, scattered enough distance that one could not say they were lined up. Healthy gardens, including ones that extended beyond what was perhaps necessary. Not that he minded when seeing how many small critters enjoyed them.

  Depending on the season, there would be more children and old-timers around, but the few that were currently visible looked more than lively enough to complete the slideshow with a flourish.

  The next house, however, stood out to him in particular.

  “Is this the one?”

  “Yeah. Thank you, sir.” Edmond had already undone his seatbelt, followed promptly by Hilda, before the taxi driver had finished asking.

  The application used for the pickup charged him automatically, so there was little else to account for post-arrival. Soon after Edmond and Hilda got out with her back-breaking luggage, the driver nodded with quite a friendly smile before setting off.

  The girl was now looking around so intently one could say she was scanning the place. Her focus was mainly on the broad two-stories house, tinged with bluish and dark gray, but the surroundings took some of her attention as well.

  “Nice area. Looks chill and there’s lots of green. But the house… did Ingrid really get something of this size for its full price? Looks like… Hey.”

  She did not look pleased after noticing her host fiddling with his phone so soon.

  “Just one sec. I’m tipping.”

  Not even turning to reply was certainly a mistake, being alerted to such by the pincer-like pull on his earlobe.

  “Ow! Psycho!”

  “I’m exhausted from the flight! You can do that after we come in, geez… Wait, you’re tipping him six notes?”

  Hilda’s surprise upon catching a glimpse of Edmond’s phone screen promptly erased almost any trace of her previous anger.

  “Yeah, what about it?” He himself could not forget the heat and sting on his ear so readily, however.

  “That’s crazy. I’m sure the trip here wasn’t even thirty.”

  “Taxi-driving is a tedious job and he didn’t force the small talk. I can afford it so why shouldn’t I pay that?”

  Hilda was silent for around two seconds, before finally sighing.

  “Whatever. Can we go in now?”

  “Sure, sure. Just remember: surprise, okay?”

  Saying so, Edmond could not stop his lips from curling into a big grin by themselves, as they walked up the steps to the door. Hilda’s reaction was similar, with a hint of mischief to add to the excitement.

  “Got it.”

  Briefly bringing up a finger in a gesture of silence, his other hand finally turned the key on the door. Cleaning their shoes on the doormat and removing them before stepping onto the black carpeted floor, they made their way in with utmost care.

  The dining table was right across from the entrance, and Hilda did not even ask Edmond before walking over and taking a seat. He was already heading right for the stairs.

  There were three rooms across the somewhat narrow corridor of the second floor. The one right by the left of the stairs’ end was as well organized as Edmond expected, but with its occupant currently absent.

  No issue, as he was only looking for those in the two rooms closer to each other, some distance down the right from the stairs. Walking onward, he knocked on the first door.

  “Isolde?”

  “Taking care of something.” The voice of a young girl answered loud enough to hear, but clearly absent-mindedly, from inside the room.

  It being her, he could never know for sure, but she seemed completely unaware of who was waiting down on the first floor. Perfect.

  “Come on, there’s something really cool I want to show you~.”

  “Mondi?”

  A new voice quickly drew Edmond’s attention away. Turning to the side, he saw a very young boy, seven years old and maybe as tall as his navel. Short black hair stood charmingly on end at certain spots from a pillow’s action, quickly figured out from the dark blue pajama shirt and pants he still wore.

  His honey-like brown eyes looked up at Edmond with a curiosity and energy that did not really fit with his current appearance, however.

  “Hey Max. Want to see something really cool downstairs~?”

  “What is it?” Maximillian asked while leaning forward, his eyes almost starry despite his quiet voice.

  Edmond could not imagine ever getting tired of his younger brother’s small but genuine gestures.

  “I said ‘see’, so I can’t tell! Just come with me~.”

  “Fine…”

  Without any real tantrum, the boy followed after Edmond as he walked back and down the stairs. As for Isolde… she would probably come down by herself before long.

  After, this was a big occasion.

  “Look!” Said Edmond as he gently pulled his brother down the last few steps.

  Face to face with the sitting, widely grinning Hilda, Max seemed to space out for the first few seconds, after which his utter confusion and shock made way to a shameless smile almost embarrassingly akin to Edmond’s. The boy’s run to her side almost looked like a single, big hop of excitement.

  “Hilda? Hilda!”

  “Mondi, I was expecting Max to greet me! Who’s this tall badass and what did he do with him~?” Catching him in a tight hug, Hilda held the boy and ran her hand through his hair in a way that while rough, Max did not seem to mind in the slightest. Seeing the two of them, anything but utter joy was impossible to notice.

  All the while this happened, Edmond heard the expected noise of a door bursting open, and someone rushing past the hallway and downstairs, seemingly almost tripping over in the process.

  “Hilda? Really!?”

  The question came from a girl of fourteen years, dressed in a half-zipped magenta hoodie, a lilac t-shirt and gray sweatpants. Her long black hair braided at the side had the same luster as Max’s, while the cloudiness in her gray eyes was just like Edmond’s. Eyes that soon began to moisten from the sight.

  “What are you waiting for? Three years are a lot, you know~?” Even Hilda herself did not hold back in that regard.

  “Aaahh, damn it!”

  Regardless of the embarrassment she would feel at such a display in any other circumstance, Isolde rushed into her embrace. Before anyone could really notice, a few tears actually fell, both theirs and those of a still smiling Edmond.

  “When did you even get here? We weren’t told anything!”

  “Just today, and you think I’d miss this~? It was risky enough having to tell the stooge over there!”

  “I’m a stooge now, but tomorrow you’ll call me a superhero when I tell you about the best clubs and restaurants~!”

  Conversation streamed from all sides relentlessly, like heavy floodgates opened only when they could handle no more. Isolde had either forgotten or completely neglected whatever she was previously busy with, as she did not hesitate to take a seat at the dining table after mostly calming down. Edmond followed suit right next to her, while Max remained right by Hilda’s side.

  The rascal had even brought his chair close enough that its legs touched those of Hilda’s. There was no way Edmond or Isolde would even try to get him away from there.

  “I wanna make lunch today!” The boy exclaimed, hands on the table with such vigor one might think he was trying to stand onto it.

  “Oh? Am I hearing this right?” Leaning back, linked hands behind her head, Hilda inquired in amusement.

  “Yep! I’ve learned plenty! Like burgers, and fried chicken and tacos. Also fried noodles, and omelette…”

  Hearing Max list off such food items, Hilda chuckled as she glanced at an awkward-looking Edmond. He definitely had to improve the variety of Max’s culinary interests.

  “Killer menu for sure. But if Max has grown up so much, what about you, Isolde? Tell me… how’re the crushes?”

  “Hilda!”

  Edmond knew this topic would inevitably come up, but for all his concern on the matter, even he had briefly forgotten about it. But despite his panicked reaction, when it came to Isolde herself…

  “… Currently on the third.” She answered matter-of-factly, taking a sip from the water-filled thermos she had brought over to hide her unease.

  “Third date?”

  “Third boyfriend.”

  Hilda came visibly close to slipping from her balanced lean on the chair after Max’s innocently direct addition.

  “Seriously!? Girl, you mean to say you’re already a serial killer while Mondi is still a lifelong single!?”

  “What makes you just assume that’s the case?” The annoyance in Edmond’s tone was only matched by that in the glare he aimed at the blonde.

  “And what makes you argue back when she’s not even wrong?”

  But Isolde’s words killed so much of the strength in that glare so quickly that Hilda began cackling out loud.

  “Coooold! Anyways, if Maxxie wants to cook and stuff, shouldn’t we just make enough for everyone? When’s Ingrid coming home?”

  “She’s at work. Didn’t Edmond tell you…?”

  Realization hit Isolde in a rather quick, if still gradual way as she spoke, ending up in a very telling look sent her brother’s way.

  One of disappointment, annoyance, indignation and many more feelings along that wavelength. But most of all, an almost tangible sense of frustration was conveyed.

  The youth himself was not surprised by this reaction, and unlike before, this was something he could easily anticipate. And yet his emotions on the matter, more than at any other time this day, formed a heavy mass around the base of his throat, reverberating down and up his whole body in steady, cumbersome pulses.

  Max looked between then in concern, unexpectedly faced with the sudden end of the previously jovial conversation, and Hilda herself had lost the smile that had remained on her face for perhaps over ten minutes. Saying nothing, her look was more forceful in demanding answers from Edmond than any words may have been.

  “… I need to get some stuff ready for work today. It’s better if I take care of that soon, and you guys will have time to catch up and get everything ready. So…” With the harsh feeling in his throat growing stronger by the second, it was very difficult to restrain a rough tone. “… I’ll call Mom and tell her to not go out for dinner or anything, then you all can have a special thing together.”

  Edmond had already stood up before he stopped talking, and when he was actually finished, he was well on his way out, putting on his shoes and opening the door as he exited with a hasty pace.

  He was hardly two steps out of the house when he was stopped by a tight grip on his arm.

  “Mondi, what’s with this? It’s been four years for you, and you still can’t bring yourself to make things right with your mom?” Hilda’s voice was half disbelief, half disappointment. The carefree and upbeat disposition so usual to her was now unnoticeable.

  Edmond turned around violently, shaking off her grasp. He could see through the open door, the dining table where Isolde seemed to be giving whatever explanation she could to calm Max down. He quickly turned his eyes back on Hilda.

  “Mind telling me when this became any of your business?”

  “Miss me with that cliché shit. I care for both of you and we lived together for years, so this is all very much my business! Damn it… is this why you kept sliming around to avoid talking of Ingrid while we planned everything?”

  The intensity with which Hilda spoke could have made many people retreat as she took a step forward. Edmond, however, conceded no ground, with a scowl to perfectly match hers.

  “And yet you’re shameless enough to play dumb? You know better than anyone what the problem is.”

  “You’re such an ass. Sure, you joined the corps on your own, and I can guess she doesn’t like that even now. But that’s no fucking excuse for refusing to so much as face her today of all days, when we can all get together for the first time in so long!”

  Disbelief replaced by anger in increasing proportion, Hilda’s voice somehow felt much louder than it actually was.

  “You said it, I know this issue better than anyone else. But did I hide from the conflict? No! I kept in touch, I reassured her, I tried to make things right for months, years until she could at least accept my decision. Until we could support each other and enjoy time together like before—”

  “Get off my case already! Ever thought how easy it is for you to say all this when you’re not her fucking son!?”

  Edmond regretted yelling in such a way almost instantly. Panicking, he looked back at the dining table some distance away, relieved like hardly ever before when not seeing Max, or Isolde for that matter. Though thinking about it more, she had likely taken the boy upstairs just in case something like his outburst happened.

  “You really think that’s a point against me here, Edmond?”

  With no concern for his worries, however, Hilda’s tone was merciless. Coupled with his recent fright, her words hit him twice as deep.

  Edmond kept a severe frown up, scrambling for something to say. The idea of yielding any ground on this topic was repulsive to him, but it was increasingly apparent that he would find no satisfactory answer even with a whole hour to think of one.

  Half-opening his mouth one more time, he quickly closed it before turning around again. Hilda did not stop him this time.

  “As I said, I’ll give her a call and tell her to be ready for dinner at home. You guys go nuts since she deserves a break.”

  He received no response other than the door closing firmly, and perhaps a little too hard.

  Edmond sighed, trying his best to get rid of the phantom-like lump in his throat, to no avail. He wasted no more time before resuming his walk, not that there was much else he could do. Phone in hand, he hardly had to navigate contacts to find the one he wanted. It was one of the top five, after all.

  A finger tapped on it, then hovered over the ‘call’ icon. For several seconds, the icon went untouched.

  “…”

  She’s not on break right now, I’m pretty sure. Calling her is no good when she’s busy...

  Thinking such, Edmond tapped the neighboring icon for messaging instead. His finger felt around for perhaps a minute before he sent the text, placing the phone back in his pocket as if he could not bear to look at it any longer.

  [Amazing surprise for you at home. Don’t ask Isolde or Max, just be sure to be hungry for dinner, it will surely be great. Love you.]

  It was a walk of just over ten minutes to get to the nearest bus stop. The subway was closer, but for the relatively small distance he needed to travel, taking it seemed like inconvenience for its own sake.

  After a twenty-minute ride on a bus that was perhaps two-thirds full and seven minutes or so more of walking, Edmond’s destination finally came into view. A largely maroon and light gray apartment building on the smaller end of things, but with a reasonable five stories and enough breadth on each to host four apartments.

  Most importantly, the rent was pretty good, and the people were okay. It had already been a little over a year since he moved in, and Edmond could not think of any real complaints.

  Card key on the outer gate and entering through the building’s tempered glass door, Edmond made sure to spare a look at the dark brown-skinned, full-haired woman that prepared to exit the building, almost as if to contrast him.

  “Hey Andrea.”

  “Edmond.”

  The landlady in her mid-thirties, as usual, showed no openings, dressed stunningly in a blood-red blouse under a black trench coat, similarly colored slacks, and high heels. But her kind tone, impressive in its sheer consistency, made any intimidation Edmond felt around her during his first month as a tenant feel more ridiculous each time he remembered.

  Walking past after greeting her, Andrea’s voice drew his attention again.

  “Please do pay Claude a visit. He seemed quite upset when I saw him a while ago, but I have something urgent to attend to. And considering last time…”

  “… Right. I’ll go check on him.” Edmond definitely shared that particular worry of hers. Maybe on an even deeper level.

  Andrea smiled in that secure and contagious manner so unique to her as she continued to make her way out.

  “You’re sweet. I’ll be seeing you later.”

  “That’d be great.”

  For all that mattered, such a brief exchange took Edmond’s mind somewhat off things. Partly from the landlady’s genuine friendliness, but mostly from concern about what Claude had gotten himself into. He walked past the elevator, and instead used the stairs.

  His apartment was on the third floor, so this was standard for him. More than that, Claude lived on the same floor, so there was no need to use the elevator when looking for him, at least at first. The plan was to look for any ‘tracks’ on each floor he visited, up to the fifth. For the kind of person Claude Baudelaire was, he tended to leave a unique trail of mayhem once he became enraged.

  But nothing of the sort was ultimately needed. Right after arriving at the second floor, Edmond crossed paths with the man in question.

  Light brown hair reaching just short of his earlobes in soft curls, eyes with an amber color that was almost golden and a smoothly shaped face of pleasant features. At least six out of each ten people would readily acknowledge his good looks, but those who would call him ‘handsome’ would hardly approach that number.

  While clearly a guy, he was undeniably pretty, dressed for the part with a thin, long-sleeved t-shirt in a black-to-blue gradient, slim-fit dark jeans and gray slip-on shoes. Being around half a head shorter than Edmond only compounded his delicate aspect further.

  The image was made somewhat awkward by the small plastic bags held in his hands, filled to varying amounts not exceeding a quarter with a dark red, almost ominously wine-colored powder.

  “What is…?”

  “You’re back early. I thought you’d at least have lunch with your friend, so what happened?” Claude asked in an effortless tenor as he walked past Edmond, not rushing or slowing down on his way to the rising stairs.

  “I asked first. I’ll answer after you tell me what’s the deal with that powder.” More than used to such aloofness, Edmond followed him without delay.

  Claude let out a minuscule sigh of annoyance while swinging the bags lightly.

  “Jindao Reaper extract.”

  That name was not good.

  Far from the culinary community alone, even the most reckless of spice junkies had nothing but respect for any pepper named ‘Reaper’. This was not just out of convention either, as there were respected and wealthy associations fiercely mandating strict standards for any pepper to gain the title.

  Among these, the ‘Reaper’ pepper from the Jindao Empire still held many characteristics that made it special. Purposefully bred to be the best match for Eastern ‘numb-spice’ dishes, the consequences of eating just a piece of the pepper were such that special certification was required for any commercial distribution, be it of the ingredient alone or of dishes containing it.

  And Claude currently held around a hundred grams worth of dehydrated extract.

  “May I also ask why you were walking out of… er, I assume Victor’s room, carrying a bunch of Reaper?”

  Edmond’s question went unanswered, instead met by a cellphone placed on his hand. The picture of a party flyer for next weekend at the building was present on the screen, with a high-quality background of a starry night and a few boxes of text with accompanying pictures displayed across it. Out of the four sections, three were the usual talk about the drinks and meaningful entertainment, but on the one at the lower right was something much cruder.

  [Come check our very own half-imp! One of a kind in the whole world!]

  The picture of Claude surrounded by several of the more mature-looking young men in the apartment building, sitting on a particularly large couch as they played some videogame and shared snacks, was too sad with that title.

  “Holy shit.”

  “That’s Victor’s third strike. That booze he got two days ago, as well as the proteins in his fridge? They might as well be disguised magma now.” Claude said ruthlessly as he took his phone back. “Are you going to replace them before he gets here or something?”

  Seeing Claude turn to him for the first time, Edmond shook his head as his lips unconsciously curled into a boyish grin. He was concerned about the method needed for Claude to discreetly put the Reaper powder inside sealed packaging, but other than that, he did not quite disapprove of such a reaction.

  Edmond himself probably would not take such measures, but Claude knew better than to neglect his research and use any amount that was legitimately threatening, and besides… Victor did play with known fire.

  “I mean, it’s just natural selection if he still does something like this after what happened with Colin’s third strike. You’d think more height talk would be a no-go, let alone something like that flyer, but I guess they’re a tad dense.”

  “If organite is a nine on the density scale, these guys might warrant a revision of it. I doubt they’ll wise up, but I’m good with testing methods six through ten. Even more if needed.” Satisfied, Claude showed a small smile more threatening than any glare.

  Everyone in the building knew by now what the big red button was, so if they got to the third strike, Edmond could only feel pity for whichever victim was in turn.

  “Be sure to stay up until three in the morning at least, though. And listen carefully.”

  “Hm? How come?”

  With Claude’s curious tone, Edmond almost felt bad for the more than likely result he imagined for Viktor.

  Almost.

  “The only thing worse than a Reaper going in, is a Reaper going out.”

  Laughter exploded as the two young men arrived at the third floor, almost causing them to trip right back down the stairs. Not that they were in any position to mind.

  “Haah… that’s a good one. Still, why are you here so early?” Asked Claude while searching in a pocket for his apartment keys.

  Edmond pondered over how to answer briefly, but a long delay would likely just make everything more suspicious.

  “I’m going to hang out with Hilda a bunch in the following weeks, showing her around and such, so I’d rather she catches up and has fun with Mom, Isolde and Max now. There’s also some stuff I need to prepare for work.”

  Even to Edmond himself, this sounded like awkward rationalization. After the enjoyable respite, being thrust onto the topic again felt like an ice-cold downpour.

  “Mm, I get it. With such a young brother especially, it’s probably easy to make him feel left out or jealous.” Fortunately, Claude did not press any further on that particular subject. “But about work, which one are we talking about?”

  The following question, though, did away with most of Edmond’s gratitude. The taller youth’s face darkened with a scowl.

  “Again, we shouldn’t talk about that out in the open.”

  “You’re the one making it sketchy. You could reply normally and all of the zero people overhearing would think it’s some part-time gig.”

  Claude always had a response to everything. Some were forced, but most of the time they were solid. Edmond knew better than most that pushing this was pointless.

  Instead he sighed, bringing both hands into his hoodie pockets.

  “It’s for the earlier one. Though there’s solid plans for the other.”

  “You mean notes? I don’t know if it’s smart to follow them just like that, especially with the reports of Unmasked being more active recently.” Despite being at the door already, Claude was yet to even put his keys to the lock.

  Edmond’s eyes narrowed as he leaned on the wall, right shoulder pressed and feet crossed.

  “You’ve been on that for the last two weeks, and I’ve yet to see even one. Of course there’s risk, but I know when to pull back. You know I’ve gotten out of my share of trouble.”

  “You getting into it in the first place is exactly why I’m saying all this. Honestly, at least for a few weeks until things calm down, if you’d let me tag along—”

  Claude was far from finished talking, but Edmond’s strong step made him stop. No real attempts at intimidation were made, but the serious look in his friend’s eyes was too genuine to be disregarded.

  “How many times have I said that defeats the purpose?”

  “This ‘purpose’ isn’t worth your life.”

  “I appreciate your concern. I really, really do. But if I’m willingly endangering someone else, then why am I even doing this at all?”

  Claude frowned at Edmond’s words, his sharp amber eyes tinged with frustration. His lips pressed in no less annoyance, he seemed about to burst into some stern tirade at any moment.

  Instead, he simply turned to place his keys on the lock, opening the door to his apartment.

  “Fair enough. Do as you please, just be wary of when there’s more than you can handle.”

  Edmond relaxed, smiling as if it were only natural.

  “I will. And really, thank you again.”

  “Sure...”

  With that word and one last glance, Claude closed the door, leaving Edmond to walk away to his own place in pleasant silence.

  For lunch… quiche? Or not. I still have time. A big cottage pie with some greens on the side is probably the best. Will last me a few days too.

  Plans taking proper shape in his mind, Edmond entered his apartment, closed the door behind him, and began to boil water in a pot as he took the necessary ingredients out.

  Hands washed, he seasoned and mixed ground meat and mushrooms, chopped clean potatoes, onions and broccoli, and salted the boiling water generously. Putting the potatoes in the water, he also oiled a large skillet and placed it atop another stove on high heat.

  Do I even have a proper cheese for the gratin? I hadn’t thought of that.

  Idle thoughts manifesting, he took out the next best shredded cheese option from the fridge, along with some butter. Almost causing the cheesecake for the employee party to fall with a distracted hand bump, Edmond could not hold back a less-than-masculine scream.

  Four hours of work yesterday, almost gone in one second!

  He gulped, feeling a chill run down his entire body. But the tragedy had been avoided, so after placing everything down to not obstruct, he could proceed with cooking the meat, mushrooms and onions on the skillet. The baking tray had already been taken out by the time the mixture was done, poured in evenly with utmost care.

  It was only after this that the potatoes were done. Pureed with the aid of butter and cream, the mash was spread over the meat mixture in a similar manner, topped with a hefty amount of cheese before going into the long since preheated oven.

  Edmond washed his hands once more, then wiped some sweat from his brow with his forearm.

  Broccoli on the skillet with some salt, pepper, garlic and the rest of the butter… won’t take too long. I can take care of that when the pie is almost ready.

  There was not much to do until the gratin turned a nice golden-brown. That is, nothing related to the actual cooking. As far as Edmond’s total responsibilities were concerned, he could use the time to double-check something.

  Giving the kitchen clock an attentive glance to not end up with a tragically dry or even burnt pie, Edmond walked from the kitchen to his bedroom, not far away.

  Holding his bed at both corners, he moved it slowly and carefully out of the way, with the least noise possible. The ventilation chute, previously half covered by the lower part of the foot end of the bed, became exposed. One for which, rather uniquely, only four regular screws had to be removed in order to access something within.

  Edmond pulled out a long garment bag, crumpled at various ends to properly fit in. Being made of cloth, however, this was no issue for its entrance or its exit.

  Once unzipped, he glanced upon the black cloth and irregularly shaped, cracked plates of dark gray organite. Pushing the suit aside, he instead took out a small notebook with several smaller pieces of paper taped to different pages, sticking out like patchwork.

  Yet again, Edmond opened the particular page he had looked at every day for the last four days, ever since finding the note on one of the three gangbangers he had encountered during that night’s patrol.

  Nothing had changed, and the date had finally arrived.

  The location for the meet was the ‘Epsilon Five’ pub in the entertainment district’s southeast.