Lynn

Archie flinched back, and Lynn felt her features turn to steel. She wasn't about to let herself look like a pussy. Not in front of all these people. Then he turned and scampered off, his puppy tail tucked between his puppy legs, limping with a paw off the ground. There was a quick hurt, the deep hurt, the sort of Clarita and Megan hurt Lynn did not feel often but had thrown in her face every single day on this ship. It melted into anger quickly enough, and Lynn's hair and eyes began dancing again.

You stupid boy, Lynn thought, thinking Archie had to be even dumber than she was. No, she supposed - someone who trusts a fool is even more foolish. She turned and stormed away, losing herself in the crowd. Lynn was headed back to her dorm, which wasn't ideal - that's where anyone tailing her would expect her to go - but there was too much commotion and heat for her to feel safe with the doll in her backpack. Her feet carried her as her mind raced, her thoughts flickering as her eyes looked for tails in the mirrors of stores as she passed, tried to see if the faces around her appeared more than once. Mostly, Lynn was processing what she'd known from the first day.

Archie was going to die. He was a lost cause.

Either for the power he had, or for having the wool so far over his eyes it kept his fucking toes warm. Why would you grab me from behind? Lynn wanted to scream. Why would you make me hurt you? She threw open the mall doors and kept walking, smoke trailing off her ever so faintly. Archie was out. If he didn't have the smarts to handle this he was going to stumble across something big, bigger than he could realize, and run his mouth about it. Lynn didn't know what or when, but she was confident it would happen now. There are people here who kill children, she wanted to tell him. She had wanted to shout a dozen different things at him but her tongue had withered away inside her mouth. You fucking idiot // Let me get you cold water // Why would you grab me? // You have to get your shit under control, they'll give you the needle if you turn again // The burn isn't bad, I've...I've burned people worse // Archie, I can't sleep // You can't let them see you hurt, they'll only hurt you worse, you can't ever let them see // Archie did you see, at the restaurant, did you see -

Lynn was at her dorm. She fumbled with her key, wanting for one moment just to kick the door down, to kick something, to feel fucking anything. She slammed it shut behind her and locked it, then did her usual protocol of jamming her dorm-issued chair underneath the knob. Lynn leaned back against the wall, her body shaking for a moment. She was fairly confident, at least in this moment, Black and White weren't in here with her. They were back in the cafeteria. It wasn't a sure-fire bet, but it was a safe one. It was a better bet than any you'd get in Vegas. Lynn flipped her mattress over and drew out the kitchen knife she'd taken from the cafeteria. It was hard for Lynn not to take things. In her room were several stashes of of food and water bottles, silverware, extra clothes, cigarettes. Maybe tomorrow there wouldn't be any more food again.

Lynn held the blade in her hand for about thirty seconds, getting the metal red-hot. She blinked up at the smoke detector before remembering they'd disabled it on the third or foruth day after twice as many false alarms. Lynn sliced open the bottom of her cot, peeling back a hole near the foot of the bed. Not like she was tall enough for this to discomfort her, anyhow. Lynn placed the doll inside, holding it in her hand for just a moment before she did. Then she ran her hand across the synthetic material, fusing it back. You'd see it if you looked close, but it was as good to secure as she could get, and Lynn was sure if they searched her room, they'd bring along a Keaton-type who could figure it out even faster. It was all she could do.

Lynn sat on her mattress and stared at the wall, trying to puzzle out her next move. She still felt like a live-wire, from what Archie and B and W and all those other fuckers had done. Hopefully Keaton got something useful out of them, Lynn thought. She was too angry to sit still. What she needed was - Christ, she needed...Lynn picked up her phone and flipped it open, wheeling to her dealer's number.

CAN YOU GET ME -

Lynn stopped, hesitating. It was a bad idea. It was a really bad idea. She was in enough hot water with the fucking doll and B and W and God knows what else. If they got her on stuff like this it all came crumbling down. Even the Xan is too risky, Lynn told herself. It didn't change what she wanted. What -

Lynn was in the backseat of the car, no seat belt on, knees pulled up to her chin. Her feet couldn't have touched the floorboard even if she wanted them to. Beside her was her backpack, her reading assignments untouched. Lynn always felt guilty for not doing them, everyone else seemed to be able to do them, but it always seemed like she couldn't. The back door opened.

"It's time."

Lynn shook her head. "I don't...there's...can't we just go back?"

Che's face hardened. "C'mon. You said you'd do this. Are you a liar, Lynn?"

She didn't like his face going hard. He was handsome and he knew what to do. He was smart. He was safe. So if he was mad at her, that meant all of those things weren't true any more. Lynn wiped at her nose, sniffing. "Che, Che I don't..."

"Are you going to be weak your whole life?"

"No, I'm not weak, I just - he's huge, Che, he's even taller than you - "

Che stared at her for a minute longer, his dark eyes hard and cold. Lynn could never look at them for long. They reminded her too much of Lucy's parents, the Gardeners, the way they'd looked when they'd gotten hom from their anniversary dinner, and Lynn had turned the house's Christmas candles into one, singular candle. "It was a bad dream," Lynn had tried to say. "I got everyone out," she tried to say, but she couldn't. They had just stared.

She stared at her feet, buried under empty cans and used rigs and worn jackets. "Slide over," Che said. Lynn squirmed to the middle seat obediently, chewing at the worn bracelet on her arm. It'd been two years ago that she and Lucy and the others had gone to camp together, Lynn loving the campfires and figuring she could burn the marshmellows to get extra for herself. It had been the first time Lynn saw a sky full of stars. She heard the Gardeners were divorcing now. Lynn didn't really understand what it meant but she knew it was her fault.

"My...my parents will wonder where I am," Lynn said. "I should get back soon."

Che closed the door. "They won't wonder where you are. They're piss drunk by now. You'll be fine until sunrise. And they're not your fucking parents. Now listen - you're right. He's bigger. He's a lot bigger. He could hurt you. Bad." Che grabbed her hand and Lynn didn't flinch, eyes wide. He reached into his pocket and flipped out his knife. Lynn's eyes widened, a flicker of light starting to glow in her pale blue eyes. Her auburn hair, messy and unkempt, stayed its natural color, bangs drooping down almost to Lynn's eyes. It made Che grin. He pressed the knife to her forearm. "Do you trust me?"

Lynn nodded, wincing and looking away.

There was a sharp pain and Lynn yelped but Che grasped her arm tighter. "No. No screaming. Look."

Lynn looked back. The cut was already cauterized, and the skin stitching itself back together.

"He can't really hurt you. I," he said, his fingers like iron in her arm, "Won't let anybody really hurt you."

Lynn nodded. "I have to?"

"If you don't, Clarita goes hungry. She goes to bed with her stomach hurting and her hands shaking." Che looked up at her. "You have to. Because he's bigger. He's almost seven feet tall, for fuck's sake. The odds are insane. If you do this, I'll buy you all the food you can eat. I'll buy you any clothes you want. Because your entire fucking life, everyone is going to be bigger than you. And you have to fight them. Or else they'll toy you around. Are you their bitch, Lynn?"

Lynn shook her head, trying to force the tears back in her eyes. "No, no, I - "

"What was the video I showed you? You remember."

"...the boxer. He could beat anybody."

"And he was a half a foot shorter than all the heavyweights." Lynn hadn't liked watching it. He'd been so angry, so brutal. But there was something about it she could not turn away from, the way he could bring grown men to the ground in one hit, the way everyone cheered his name, the money - he'd made a million dollars in thirty seconds with one good punch.

Lynn looked back out the car. "...okay. Will - " she stopped herself. Che didn't like if she asked for things.

"What?"

"If I do it," she said quietly, "Will you teach me how to punch like him?" She waited, her heart hammering in her chest, somehow harder to ask the words than to think of stepping out of the car and into that room, where she could hear them cheering and shouting, drunkenly yelling. She'd be just like him. She'd be small but she would put them down.

Che grinned. "Yes. Here. I have something for you. It'll make you brave. It'll make it so it won't even hurt." He reached into his pocket and drew out his keyring, reaching into his jacket with the other. The cut on Lynn's arm was gone. Che was right. She couldn't get hurt. And if she didn't go in there, maybe somebody else had to. Che was gonna teach her. She would do this and he would take her back and then she would go to sleep and none of it would be real.

"Okay." Lynn said, pushing confidence into her voice. She wanted to be brave. Che drew out -

Lynn snapped the phone shut. She sat in silence for her room for a moment. For one vague moment, she considered doing schoolwork. "Oh, fuck that," Lynn said. She buried her Xanax deep in her backpack and changed into workout clothes. She was going to burn a hole through her bed if she sat on it any longer, angry as she was. Lynn had already racked up a fairly sizable maintenance debt, she was sure. If nothing else, punching something always cleared her mind. Lynn threw her phone and her gym clothes into a bag and slung it over her shoulder, her heart still hammering in her chest.

Yeah. Working out. That was good. That was...that was good.

Natalie Ellis

---

---

"Oh," was Natalie's single, sheepish reply as she calmed down. As she calmed down, she began to shrink. "Sorry, I'm just...frustrated. I had some kind of hope that things would change and it'd be a new start. For some reason, I thought I, I could live a normal life here." Nat punctuated this with a dry, bitter chuckle devoid of humor or joy. "Make friends, go to school, maybe get a job and build a peaceful life for myself. Maybe there's still hope for those things once all this blows over. And thanks for the offer, but I already have a therapist and I like going to see her."

The Agents' answers to all of Keaton's questions made sense. However, as they were talking about Salamandra, their wording affected her. It reminded her that she wasn't here to receive help and care. She was here because she had killed several people, and had injured staff at every facility that tried to actually care for her. The only difference between her and Salamandra was their willingness to cooperate and be rehabilitated. That was the sole reason for their difference in treatment. After all, the needs of humans greatly outweigh the needs and rights of parahumans here. The Agents said it themselves.

Snapping her out of this depressing train of thought, Archie had returned without her noticing, and was standing next to her. He must have noticed how she felt because he put his hand on her arm. She looked at his hand, then looked to the floor. What should she do? Should she say something? Address it? Was it even the right time to talk about this? But what if she didn't? Would ignoring him hurt his feelings?

As she was pondering this, he had removed his hand again. She glanced up at his face just long enough to see he was frowning, before returning her eyes to the scene in front of her, trying to play it cool. Had he taken his hand away because he mistook her looking down and thinking for discomfort? Had she hurt his feelings anyway? Was the look on his face even anything to do with her? She didn't know. It was too crowded in here to talk to him anyway, and she decided it didn't feel like the right time after all. Not with Radvi and the Agents here.

One thing the Agents said caught Natalie's attention. Cara's real name was Caroline Fuller. Was she a real person? Or had she been once? Natalie admitted she didn't know all that much about Cara and thought she was simply the station AI software. But if she was a parahuman, or a former parahuman, Natalie wanted to ask her about that, and to talk to her. Most of the time, Natalie didn't really have anybody to talk to. But Cara? Cara was always nearby.

Finally, Radvi signalled to Freaky D, who's helmet turned into a screen and started playing a film depicting a woman standing next to a bloody and battered man in a chair. Nat's stomach turned. That was the teacher. The body they'd found together during their first week. It was only a few seconds, then the clip changed to one of a first-person perspective fight scene against the same woman. Natalie was dismayed to realize that if she was ever cornered alone by this woman, her strength would be next to useless, and she'd be killed. Natalie, though she hated to admit it, was scared of this woman. Especially if Amelia was right and she was coming after them. Hopefully that jar full of goo Radvi had received went towards helping the guards to find and deal with this woman before she found any of them. Natalie was surprised to hear that Archie had met her on the first day. That would be a very chilling experience to remember. But at least they now had a name to put to the face; 'Arianna'.

---

A month had gone by since the lockdown, an empty and uneventful span of time that Gen very much appreciated. Mundanity was healthy for the heart. Soothing. Being trapped hundreds of kilometres above his home wasn’t going to stop him from establishing some kind of normalcy. Routine was easy when he didn’t have any frien—any colleagues wanting to waste his time.

So Gen studied. He practiced piano. He messaged his mother twice a week.

He exercised.

The latter was a new experience, one brought about by necessity rather than recreational desire. You see, Gen was going to die on The Promise.

It was a conclusion he reached shortly after the lockdown. The security was dismally understaffed and likely undertrained when it came to dealing with the ship’s powered occupants. The occupants themselves…

Gen shuddered. He recalled the Gojira on the first day. The commotion he heard as he passed by the woods area a month ago, a mess he thankfully had the sense to walk away from. Smart move. Less than 24 hours later, the ship went into lockdown.

Hence the frequent trips to the gym. Gen needed to be able to defend himself. Run. Survive. His physical state prior to arrival wasn’t hopeless but there was definitely room for improvement. Currently, he was seven minutes into a jog on the treadmill, working up a decent sweat. Two weeks into the regime and he was starting to feel good about his stamina and, surprisingly, himself.

Then the pyromaniac entered the room.

Gen wished it was ‘surprise’ that flipped his insides, that made his foot land a little too far to the edge of the tread and subsequently invert his entire stride, but it wasn’t. The feeling was closer to petty terror.

A pathetic “gwah!” escaped his mouth before his face planted itself into the tread.

---

Keaton watched the video Freaky-D presented with some amount of surprise. The staff had a face to work with, and yet they still weren’t able to apprehend the culprit? Why did they think roping a crew of kids into the investigation would make a difference then? If anything, the Faceless’ answers revealed a whole host of absurd hunches they had, from thinking there was a Promise-ending disaster on the horizon to believing a band of mostly underage parahumans could do anything to help bring in a criminal who’d eluded the ship’s entire security force. Of the names they’d named, Archie and Natalie were hired muscle, and Lynn was a strange spread but still combat-based. Eli and Radvi were unknowns, and Keaton was useless without information—something the Faceless didn’t seem too concerned with providing her. The questions of ‘why them’ and ‘why now’ were answered by unsupported hunches, according to the Faceless, and although Keaton knew they were telling the truth, that fact only made things harder to understand. There were two concerning possibilities here: That these two were merely messengers and were operating on limited information, or that these two had been deceived so they could deliver a faulty story. Not allowing the people they believed to be key for saving The Promise from certain doom to talk to the person in charge wasn’t exactly great for facilitating friendly relations. Anonymity was as powerful as it was suspicious, and the ‘rules’ they mentioned only made the whole thing sound more foreboding.

Perhaps Keaton was being paranoid. Perhaps the Faceless truly represented the staff when they said they wanted to help. Nothing about this scenario made anything better, and if she were to believe it when the opposite were true, she’d end up in a much worse situation than she was in now. Playing it on the safe side wasn’t the most efficient, but being wrong? Being wrong was much, much worse.

Following along the stream of possibilities, perhaps there was a reason why it was the Faceless who’d been sent to deliver the message instead of the person in charge. Keaton’s power would prevent them from lying, so sending an envoy who didn’t have all the facts would allow them to check her and manipulate the narrative if she wasn’t careful. As for why they’d chosen this group specifically, the Faceless had completely skirted the question. The whole ‘chosen ones’ gimmick they were selling was so ridiculous Keaton was almost tempted to rule it as true just because it’d be the worst story they could have went with if it weren’t. But, even if it were true, there was nothing to say that it was the whole story. Perhaps the group was chosen because of some precognitor the staff had employed, or perhaps it was because at least one of them had something on the staff. If the latter were true, however, it’d call into question why the Faceless had approached a group instead of just the one person. Was it to decrease suspicion so they could better sell their story? Or was it to nip all the possible buds they could and ensure that there was no way the threat could persist?

Whatever the case, Keaton wasn’t about to share any information she and Lynn had dug up. Too much was still up in the air for her to trust that they weren’t going to off her another day. Her power could tell her whether or not someone was lying about wanting to kill her, but that someone could change their mind too. Until the staff presented an airtight story that her power could verify, complete trust wasn’t on the table.

While she didn’t trust the staff, though, she could pretend to, at least to a reasonable extent. The Faceless were being honest, and while they hadn’t exactly made themselves vulnerable by revealing their power, they’d also told the truth about Cara. Caroline Fuller—hopefully she’d be more helpful than these two. Though Keaton hadn’t spent the most time talking to Cara, given the possibility of surveillance and censorship, she would definitely be checking the amount of control Caroline had over her faculties. That the staff didn’t have full control over her was thrilling since Caroline would be an invaluable ally when it came to getting information, but this all hinged on Caroline being trustworthy, and that was a problem for later.

The reasoning the Faceless gave for The Promise’s criminal population, on the other hand, was ridiculous. Rehabilitating a gang leader like Salamandra was a scandal in the making, if word ever got out, and there was no reason why the ‘party’ in charge couldn’t have just built another facility. That they’d chosen to combine the facilities just went to support the working theory that The Promise’s whole rehabilitation schtick was a cover-up for whatever else was going on. The note that the ‘party’ was more concerned about humans than parahumans was interesting, though Keaton had no way of verifying it’s true veracity without the party present. As for pursuing it further, well, Keaton was going to pass. The entire story smelled of lies, and even though Keaton couldn’t confirm anything with her power, she’d be damned if she trusted anything the Faceless had to say on the subject at face value.

Regarding the footage Freaky-D showed, there was little to ask. Radvi had known who the culprit was, had been possession of a jar of DNA for nearly a month now, and the woman, Arianna, had managed to elude him the entire time. Eli was right to ask, but Keaton wasn’t expecting much from the cop. Whatever he’d done with the jar, it clearly hadn’t helped. On the other hand, that Archie was able to identify Arianna was interesting. Why had she approached him? To say hello? Keaton didn’t believe in coincidences, and that was a hell of a coincidence.

“Arianna—do you know who she is? Are there files on her, who she is and why she’s here? And why has she been able to avoid detection for so long? What about the surveillance cameras?” Keaton asked, turning to the Faceless. “Surely there’s more information on her, if she’s been here for longer than we have? What does she want, and why? And is she working alone?”

And is she really who we should be fighting against? Keaton wanted to ask. ‘The enemy of my enemy is my friend,’ or so the saying went, and from another angle, Arianna was a capable figure fighting against The Promise for reasons unknown. That the narrative the Faceless presented could be a front to get the group to solve their problems for them couldn’t be ignored, and in more ways than one, Arianna seemed like she’d have better answers to Keaton’s questions.

Lynn

Lynn had come to the gym to not be (as) pissed off anymore, and she had to admit through a barely bit-back laugh that she had succeeded pretty much immediately upon arrival. Hoisting the duffel bag (which seemed nearly as large as her; newly-bought with Vaquero money, and among the only passably nice things Lynn owned) higher over her shoulder, she walked over to Gen, who was lying flat on the floor, flopping like he was having a stroke. Aw shit maybe he was. Lynn figured asking if he smelled burnt toast, but most people did around her. Eh. He was moving. Flopping.

Some have slandered Lynn's good name with accusations of paranoia. Whatever label you choose to apply on her reasoned and rational vigilance, there was very little of it to be had here. The gym was populated enough that no one was going to try to put a hit on her, and Lynn figured the Promise's MO was to make things look like an accident. Namely, a large, lizard-sized accident. Beyond that, there was something so utterly pathetic about face-planting on a five mile per hour treadmill that nothing in Lynn's mind could register this guy as a meaningful threat. Lynn hoisted him up to his feet, grunting slightly. She had more strength than a girl of her size should, and her hands were warm - not uncomfortably so - under the crooks of Gen's arms as she picked him up. Big fella. Lynn looked him over. He'd been hitting the sushi a little hard. Weird fingerless glove. Maybe a power thing, but given the faceplant, maybe just a virgin thing. Lynn didn't recognize him, which was surprising, given that she assumed his parahuman ability was his skin complexion.

"Up and at 'em, fish," Lynn said. Her hair was pulled back in boxer braids she'd idly given herself on the walk over, giving Lynn something of a more pronounced hood rat look than normal. She had the hoodie cinched around her waist and as tight a tanktop as Lynn's frail frame could manage over her. On the way, she'd wrapped her hands, which was getting to be economically infeasible. Even working to keep her power as dimmed down as possible, she was burning through them with relative frequency. Lynn's solution was to wrap them with aluminum foil before putting them in the gloves, which may have provoked laughter in the gym were it anyone but Lynn doing so. She figured she would lift weights or something too. But here was a Fish flopping around out of water. "You still have all your teeth?"

---

Black and White didn’t answer any of Keaton’s second barrage of questions. They instead left that task up to Radvi.

“I don’t know who she is.” He said, “Earliest I know she was here was during orientation. We don’t have a file because she’s not supposed to be on this station in the first place.”

He directed his words to everyone gathered around the table.

“During last month’s breakout, D gave me a sample of her… body, and I had it processed and stored in the station’s R&D wing. I was told she’s some kind of ‘super-organism’, that’s what Trevor called her.” He wasn’t going to take the time to explain who Trevor was because there was no way in hell that detail was important. “She can split herself apart down to the cellular level, and each cell can act independently. She can be in literally millions of different places at once. And the exact cause of the breakout was listed as hundreds of wiring sections that looked like they had been eaten through by acid. All those doors and consoles, busted in an instant. I don’t know what Arianna wanted with Coleman when she killed him but, she’s the only one I can think of who could pull that breakout off with the abilities she has.”

He paused for a moment before reaching for the glasses hanging from his collar. He held them in his left hand, taking the PSI chip out of the slot on the side with his right. He held it up for everyone to see.

“This is a power signature identification chip.” He said, “It’s hard-locked on Arianna, and it’s supposed to alert me to her presence when she steps within a hundred foot radius of it. But this past month, I haven't been able to pick up anything, and I can only assume it’s because she’s hiding in parts of the station too deep and cluttered for the pickup signal to breach through.”

As he took another look at the PSI chip, a thought crossed his mind. The backups that he’d asked Trevor for, he had three of them. And if Black and White were willing to act on faith in this group… well, for all he knew of the duo, and for all the help he needed now, he decided to go out on a limb. He put the chip back into his glasses, then reached into his suit pocket and pulled out all three backups.

“I had these spares made.” Radvi said, “They’ll work on your phones, let you know when she’s near. I’m technically not supposed to do this, but none of the agents will help me ever since they saw the footage of me working with him. They think he faked all of it.” He motioned towards D, who replied simply with two thumbs up.

“And why do you believe him, Agent Radvi?”

“When no else does?”

Radvi didn’t say anything. He simply gave D a solemn stare, thinking about what to say. Why he put his trust in the ridiculous lunatic in the first place, and why he continued to do so all this time. D didn’t pull any humorous gestures or play a sound clip in response. He just sat there, tilted his head a bit, and waited for Radvi to say something.

“...I don’t know.” He finally responded, “I just do.”

Black and White seemed content with the answer. Nothing said for the rest of those present at the table.

“So…” Radvi continued, holding the backup chips still, “If you’re all as wrapped up in this like Black and White say you are, then you should have these to help you stay safe. Problem is, I only have three, and there’s five of you. I can get more made, but not right away.”

D immediately shot his hand up like a kid in elementary school, waving it around like mad, pointing at himself with his other hand. Radvi decided that, seeing as D was all the more eager to help, and that he was able to incapacitate Arianna on his own, that he was one of the better options. So he tossed D a chip, who caught it and held it up in the air, playing a sound clip of an angelic choir as he gazed at it.

“Eli, I want you to have one too.” Radvi continued, turning to Eli and handing her the second backup chip. Among all the parahumans present, she was the one he trusted the most so far. Not out of any ill will towards the rest, but he just didn’t know them well enough. But there was still one chip left. He placed it on the table in between Archie, Natalie, and Keaton. “The three of you can decide who gets the last one.” Radvi said, “Whatever the case, you just plug it into your phone and the program will start automatically. If anyone gets a signal, everyone else will be notified, myself included. If she does engage any of you, loud noises - really loud noises, I’m talking maximum volume - will throw her off. That’s the best tactic we know at the moment.”

D chuckled. He was all too prepared for his next round with his gelatinous foe.

“The enemy has a name and a face now, at least.”

“Still no discerning her ultimate goal, however.”

“But for now-”

“HEY!”

Everyone turned their heads to see another agent running at the table. “Radvi, what the fuck are you doing?!” He called out, “Get him!”

Everyone’s attention turned to D, who responded in turn by dropping his head in a defeated manner, as if tired somehow. He then immediately bolted from his chair and made his rapid escape from the scene. The agent approached the table, Radvi specifically, and said to him, “What the hell is wrong with you?!”

“Oh blow it out your ass, Felty.” Radvi replied dismissively. The other agent just grunted in anger before continuing his chase. Radvi turned to the remaining group and said, “I’m gonna move along. Rest of you take care, and keep your eyes peeled. If anything happens, you can come to me.”

“We will also be keeping in touch.”

“Until then, farewell to all of you.”

Black and White proceeded to vanish into thin air, leaving the rest to their own devices. Radvi was making his way in the same direction D and the other agent had run off, but Lord knew if he was going to do anything about it himself. All that was left was Archie, Natalie, Eli, and Keaton at the table.

And one spare chip.

E L I

---

Eli was surprised to hear Archie give the woman in the videos a name. She turned her head to look at him. He'd just come back from chasing after the angry girl. As he raised his hands she immediately looked to see that there was a fresh burn mark on one of them. Had that come from the steaming spit girl? What was that girl's deal?

The friendly girl didn't give Radvi a chance to answer Eli's questions. She instead asked the exact question Eli considered asking Misters Black and White- after Radvi explained himself. Although, Eli hadn't thought of asking if there were files on the woman. She had to have gotten aboard The Promise somehow.

When Misters Black and White remained silent, Radvi began to speak. Eli looked to him, crossing her arms. Now she would get her answers.

No file? Her eyes darted to Helmet. Did they sneak on board in similar ways? How many others have come aboard The Promise without permission? She pursed her lips and twisted them to the side, but she quickly dropped the expression and looked back at Radvi.

Eli's eyebrow rose higher and higher as Radvi revealed the blue goop's analysis. She'd never heard of an ability like this. It was hard to believe that every cell could act on its own in her body. Would Eli's ability even stand up to that? She swallowed as a twinge of fear manifested in these thoughts. If she ever saw this woman in person, it would take all of her strength to ward her off.

The idea of multiple wires decaying by acid threw up a red flag. This woman couldn't have produced the acid on her own. Had she placed the acid there before and somehow released it at the same time? Was there someone else on the boat that was working with her? There's no way this lady could control every cell in her body and spit acid everywhere. That kind of parahuman shit just wasn't possible... right?

Radvi removed his techy glasses, producing a small chip from them. He began to explain exactly what the chip did; this also explained why Eli thought he looked so faraway in thought when he wore them. It wasn't surprising that he hadn't found Arianna. The bitch was laying a low as she could get, and she probably spread out every part of her body to make it harder for the sensors to pick up her source. Eli pressed her lips together, her shoulders tensing as she thought of her. She was the reason her friend was murdered. The reason 300 people lost their lives.

She watched Radvi give a chip to Helmet, and she expected him to say her name next. She sat straighter and outstretched her arm, her palm laying flat open by the time Radvi turned towards her. Her eyes met Radvi's as he gave her the chip, and she nodded before she quickly turned her focus onto it. As soon as he explained what to do with it, Eli pulled out her phone from her pocket and inserted the chip.

Time to catch a murderer.

The program initiated before Radvi could even mention it. She looked up as he explained what would happen if the woman came into range. Make as much noise as possible. Maximum volume. She bit her bottom lip. Would playing a loud song from her phone be enough? No, no, she'd have to find a way to make more noise. Perhaps she had something up her sleeve.

Misters Black and White broke their silence, but were quickly interrupted by another security officer booking it towards the table. Oh, right. Helmet isn't supposed to be casually sitting in a mall. In fact, he almost looked disappointed that his time out in the open was over. Where did this guy hide? Was he always up above, watching and observing? What was his goal on this ship?

These were things Eli thought of as she watched him make his getaway. The security officer stopped to confront Radvi and Eli recognized his face. She sunk lower in her chair, hoping that he didn't notice her at the table. Radvi said his goodbyes, and before Eli could say goodbye he was gone. Misters Black and White also disappeared in their usual fashion. Now it was just the lovebirds and the smart girl that remained at the table.

Eli looked back at her phone, taking a deep breath before she put it in her pocket. It would let her know if the woman was nearby. Until then, Eli would have to wait. She looked at her food, but had no appetite left for it. So, she simply took one more bite before pushing it away from herself. Her attention returned to the three before her.

What were they thinking? What should she do now that Radvi and the rest had gone? Would they even bother talking to her more? Or was this her cue to leave as well? Fuck it. I need to make friends if we are to work together.

"You guys must be pretty unlucky, huh? I mean, in your first week you came across a murder. I've been here for four years now and I've never experienced something like that." She brushed the stray hairs back from her face, glancing between the three of them. "I hope your friend is okay. She seemed pretty upset when she left."

That reminded her of the burn on her new friend's hand, and she turned to look at Archie. "Is your hand okay? It looks like you should run it under some cold water."

---

Tattoos. Scars.

Hair was… captivating. Thuggish. Looked complicated.

She was short. Petite from a distance but almost childlike up close.

Oh yeah, she was also monstrously strong. Gen observed with a weak whimper as his full weight was effortlessly lifted.

She was moving her mouth now, drawling something in English – it was always English here – and Gen understood fluently, but his brain refused to muster a response. Why teeth? And why…

“…Fish?” he repeated dumbly.

Not that it mattered. That’s right, this was pointless! He had to get away from this conversation and away from this freakish girl and all her horrible companions and be as far away from the catastrophes they instigate as possible.

Gen summoned an apologetic smile, placating. He found his footing and he took the hand under his armpit. It was warm, wrapped in layers. Even with his own heated and sweaty palm, he could feel an unnatural energy emanating from her.

His grip was tentative, gentle even, as he pried the girl away in a manner he clearly believed was inoffensive.

"Sumimasen," he muttered out of habit.

Lynn

Lynn sighed. The air shimmered as it left her mouth. "Fish. 'Cause you're new." She stared at him for a moment. Yeah he's never been to juvy. "Fuck it. Fish because you looked like one flopping around down there." Gen moved a notch higher in Lynn's book by disengaging her grip from him quickly but subtly. Finally someone on this station who isn't drowning in feelings. Spoons would've held my hand and tried to do a palm reading or something. Keaton might've done something similar, she figured, but it would've been coded as a question, as a beat-around-the-bush, not-asking-what-I'm-really-asking type deal. Lynn could respect that. It was still annoying, but it...it didn't bother Lynn as much.

Lynn took a step back, adusting the bag over her shoulder. She opened her mouth and closed it for a moment, gears whirring in her head. This guy was clearly trying to get back in shape. Lynn could respect that. His time on that treadmill, even factoring in lost time for faceplanting, wasn't exactly an Olympic qualifier, but everybody started somewhere. Not working with super speed here, I'm guessing. He dressed like he came from money, but he didn't have the douchebag swagger that usually accompanied it. That did strike Lynn as interesting. He was tall, and in Lynn's experience, that skin complexion usually got the baby factories open for business, but he didn't have that confidence about him. The OJ glove probably counteracts it. Not asking why he wears it, though. With my luck it'll be the last thing his dead mother gave him and then I have to talk about that for thirty minutes. So Fish had self-confidence issues. Lynn felt reasonably confident on the call about him being a virgin. For a brief moment, unbidden, Lynn wondered if Archie was a virgin, and the thought was gone as soon as it came. She shook it out of her mind. What did that have to do with anything?

There was something more here, though. She couldn't put a finger on it. He just seemed jumpy. Not a dick, which was a welcome surprise, and not interested in needless emotional bullshit, which was also pretty chill in Lynn's book. She'd throw him a bone. "Hey, you - " Lynn paused, again, trying to figure out a way to put the words together that wouldn't make this guy feel like a bitch. Lynn knew her way around a gym, as it was one of the few leisure activities permitted in juvy, and Lynn had taken to getting as strong as she possibly could. Given her frame and the diet in a parahuman juvy, there was a remarkably low ceiling to that endeavor, but she'd tried nonetheless, her frail arms hammering out push-ups or shadowboxing in her room when rec time was cancelled. Rec time getting cancelled was pretty frequent. Lynn was only sometimes to blame. "You don't really look like you know what you're doing, no disrespect," she added quickly, as if that somehow made the sentence courteous, "So if you want me to show you around or something I will. But if not, that's cool. I'll be over there." Lynn nodded and walked away. Keaton would've known a better way of handling that. She remembered the first time she'd tried to bench press, unassisted by her powers, and the way the bar had pushed her arms straight down to the bench and dug into her chest, Lynn wheezing to lift it back up. In a rare moment of humanity in that place, one of the girls had snorted, lifted it up off her, and mercifully kept it to herself. Lynn tried to pay things forward. She didn't like being in debt to people - so this way it was like she was smudging that debt away.

Lynn sat down in front of the punching bag, cinching the wraps on her hands tighter and letting her fingers dance for a moment. Lynn never really bothered with pussy stuff like stretching or warming up. Practically speaking, she didn't need it - Lynn's powers could correct a sprain or pulled muscle relatively easily - but it was largely because she thought it looked completely ridiculous. Lynn got into position, weight dancing from one foot to the other. When she moved, she was lighter than she should've been, even for a girl her size - she almost seemed to float as she bounced, drilling out quick jabs into the bag. There was a faint smell of burning polyester, but Lynn was doing her best to keep her heat down as low as she possibly could, and as a result it was fairly minimal. On the ground beside her, an iPod whose history of ownership was best left unquestioned bellowed out turn-of-the-millenia rap and hip-hop, and Lynn soon fell into its rhythm, dancing and ducking and striking. Lynn had little in the way of real form boxing training, but seemed to have a vague idea of what she was doing, and learned at least the fundamentals passably well. Her head stayed on a constant bounce, her hands flashing back up to her face after she struck the bag. After thirty minutes or so, her clothes dripping with sweat, she gathered her things and moved over to the free weights. Someone with less concern for self-preservation may have giggled at the sight of the barely five foot girl struggling to reach up and grab some of the heavier plates, but perhaps may have stopped giggling as she effortlessly slid them onto the bars. Lynn stopped and looked at the plates for a moment, panting.

"What the fuck is this kilogram bullshit?" Lynn muttered.

Archie

---

"You guys must be pretty unlucky, huh? I mean, in your first week you came across a murder. I've been here for four years now and I've never experienced something like that. I hope your friend is okay. She seemed pretty upset when she left."

"Unlucky." Archie parroted, giving Eli a disjointed smile. That was certainly one way to put it, all things considered. His life had been exceptionally eventful over the past few months. Developing a superpower, turning on the first day, surviving a breakout, and now they were being involved in a scheme to save The Promise. Archie sighed. He missed the days when the most complicated thing he had to worry about was when a homework assignment was due or he has chores to do.

He glanced over to Natalie and the crux of that issue hit him. Perhaps that's why he liked her. There, he said it. He liked her. She brought some inkling of normalcy back to his life. Six months ago he lived in a small island off the coast of the Carolinas who had never left the country and now he turned into lizards and orbited the planet in a space station that was facing a doomsday level threat. Liking a pretty girl that scared him a little and made him think of things that weren't so oppressive to his life was probably a good thing. It would keep him from lashing out or having a mental break. Trusting someone like that would keep him grounded. He hummed, and didn't have much more to think on that one. Eli had asked him about Lynn, though. "I hope Lynn's okay, too."

He looked from Natalie to Eli and shoved his hand back into his pocket when she mentioned his hand, a little too quickly for it to have been natural. Shit. She had noticed and while he had wasn't particularly worried about telling her given that he was mostly fine, he didn't want to vilify Lynn to her and Natalie. He tried to play it off as best he could. "Oh, yeah, hit it on somethin' on the way back." he lied, then shrugged. "But that's... probably a good idea." In that moment he had the idea to open up a new contacts page and hand his phone to Eli. He gave her a small smile for her benefit. She seemed smart. She'd get what he was wordlessly trying to say. He looked to Natalie for a moment, and then to the last remaining chip. It was between Natalie and Keaton now, since Eli had one and he was far too clumsy to have such a necessary device. He wanted Natalie to have it, if only because it gave him an excuse to stick around her more. He was sure he'd be seeing more of Eli, so it's not like his bases wouldn't be covered in the event that it became necessary, but the idea sounded good in his head nevertheless. Keaton knew things though, maybe she'd find use for it? He was still unsure of how her powers work, just that she could guess things that he never could. Like calculus. Archie hated calculus.

"When uh, when you two figure out who gets the chip I'm gonna head to the bathroom." Archie said, shaking his arm with the damaged hand for emphasis as to why. He looked to Eli when she handed his phone back, and pocketed it. He gave her a lopsided smile and tried to remember her advice. "When you're done, Nat, could you uh-" he faltered for a moment, then resumed. "Could you come with? Not like, into the bathroom or anything. That'd be weird. Just like, over there? I gotta talk to you about something."

---

While it was disappointing that Radvi was the one answering her questions now, Keaton was distracted by the revelation that Arianna was responsible for the breakout a month ago. That Keaton’s power confirmed Radvi’s guess didn’t help her case of wanting to hear Arianna out, given the number of deaths that had resulted from the breakout. The chance that there was a cause to justify loosing criminals, murderers, and worse on a population of kids was slim to none, but it wasn’t none. It depended on what Arianna knew, then, and given the limited information the Faceless were willing to provide, Keaton was willing to risk getting more puzzle pieces from a risky source.

The chip Radvi produced was something Keaton instantly wanted. It’d help her locate Arianna, help her track down the parahuman who’d managed to elude everyone on board The Promise for more than a month. What held her back, though, were the strings Radvi had attached to the program on the chip—strings Keaton could only admit were smarter than she’d thought him capable of. Alerting everyone as soon as a chip was tripped made it pointless for her purposes since she didn’t know how much time she wanted with Arianna. At the very least, Keaton assumed it’d take more than a few minutes to approach and establish some form of trust with the elusive criminal, and the chip didn’t allow for that. Plus, there was the fact that Radvi had turned up nothing after an entire month despite him actively trying to find Arianna. Though the upcoming celebration sounded like the perfect time for someone to crash the party, it was also a bit too contrived and thus expected since it was fairly obvious that the cops would be on high alert for foul play during the festivities. Being distracted when people expected them to be would be a mistake, and they had seven years of practice and the glaring reminder from last month to motivate them.

The arrival of another police officer sent Freaky-D running, which prompted Radvi and the Faceless to leave as well. As much as Keaton would’ve liked to stop them to ask more questions, she’d already asked the important ones. Their answers pointed her towards new sources, and she was going to tap those as soon as she deemed it safe and possible.

“Real unlucky,” Keaton said after Archie echoed the word. That everything only started going wrong after they’d arrived on the ship was a bit too coincidental to look past. Had some catalyst of sorts arrived with them? Arianna, or someone—something else?

Eli’s words drew Keaton’s attention away from the chip and to Archie’s hand. A bruise? But Eli had said to run it under water. A burn—Lynn. Intentional? Doubtful. He’d chased after her when it was obvious she was close to snapping, which was as dumb as it was sweet. Keaton hadn’t had the same instinct, with the Faceless dangling the possibilities of answers in front of her, and perhaps she could put that down to a sense of self-preservation or a feeling that chasing after Lynn while she was agitated would achieve nothing. More importantly, though, was the fact that it only made sense for Keaton to stay back and question the Faceless. That way, she wouldn’t be coming up empty-handed when Lynn cooled down.

While Keaton kept a poker face as Archie invited Natalie to talk privately, she was both surprised and amused by how much he stumbled over his words. This wasn’t the first time he’d done so, after all, and Keaton had to wonder briefly how close they’d gotten during the past month. She’d been skimping on spending time with them, partially to avoid involving them in what she and Lynn were up to, so she wasn’t too well-informed on their relationship status. Judging by how awkward the whole thing with Eli had been, she’d assumed that they weren’t dating, and—no, no they weren’t. From what she knew of them, they balanced each other out weirdly, with their powers. Still, they both carried sizable baggage on their own, and the notion that people healed better together made for messy, dependent relationships. That said, they seemed cute together, and Keaton figured that The Promise needed a little more optimism and happiness.

“Natalie, you should probably keep the chip,” Keaton said, sliding the chip over to Natalie before she could leave with Archie. “You’d have a better chance with her than me. Both with surviving and bringing her in.”

Keaton stood after that, not wanting to give Natalie a chance to offer her the chip for whatever reason. As much as Keaton’s powers might help with locating Arianna, it stood that Keaton had no way to bring Arianna in, so Natalie keeping the chip only made sense. In the meantime, there was the intriguing new face of Eli, who was an untapped source of knowledge. Though Keaton already had a relatively clear picture of the ship’s past, there was always a chance for more information, and four years of first-hand experience made Eli a good source for that.

“I’m going to head off too, then. Eli, right? Are you sticking around?” Keaton asked. Retrieving her phone, she held it out to Eli with a smile. “Let’s keep in touch. I’d love to hear more about how The Promise is and all, and you sound like the perfect person to ask if you’ve already been here for four years.”

Natalie Ellis

---

---

Natalie listened to Radvi as he explained more about Arianna. The more Nat heard, the less she wanted to ever run into her. 'Super-organism'? Natalie almost died to a regular criminal. She still hadn't fully recovered from Death's Head's assault and she'll have scars from that fight she'll never get rid of. What chance would she have against Arianna. At least if they were altogether, Lynn could probably hurt her, or maybe Archie could resist her attacks. Radvi even suggested there was strong proof she was behind the breakout, and could secrete acid. It was like everything that was stopping her from living a normal life was the fault of this one person. As much as Natalie was afraid and wanted nothing to do with playing hero, she did was Arianna stopped and killed, if that's what it took.

Radvi then took a chip out of his glasses, and explained its purpose. It would alert someone to the presence of Arianna if they were within a hundred steps. Being that close would be terrifying and even before hearing about the spares, Natalie knew she wanted one. But he had three spare chips. One went to D. That made sense. If he hadn't been caught thus far, he was getting around. He'd have the best chance of finding her. Radvi gave a second to Eli, and put the third on the table. Thinking about it, maybe Keaton should have it. She's the one who'd need backup the most if she ever came within a hundred steps of Arianna.

At that moment, more guards came, and chased Freaky D away. Radvi followed soon after. Now it was just the group, as it was originally supposed to be. Minus Lynn. Plus Eli. And one chip left. Eli spoke first, telling them how unlucky they were. Didn't Nat know it? She sighed. Even with everything going on, this was still an incomprehensible improvement in her living conditions. But it was still not too much to ask to move past all the danger and fear and start living like Eli apparently had for four years, in Nat's opinion.

Between Eli bringing her up, and Archie's hand, Natalie started thinking about Lynn. More specifically, about their very brief conversation earlier. Maybe the could become friends. It was something to hope for, and to work towards. Natalie will never forget the stare-down in the woods. The hate that was in Lynn's eyes. It was not a pleasant feeling to be hated. And everything that's happened since has only affirmed Natalie's belief that alerting Cara was the smartest thing she'd done on this station since she got here.

Archie's burned hand didn't go unnoticed by Natalie either, after Eli pointed it out. Still, Nat didn't want to say anything. Nat felt like she understood both of them well enough to assume that Archie had tried to touch Lynn while she wasn't in full control of her powers, and burned his hand in the process. If there's one thing Natalie could sympathize with, it was accidentally hurting somebody who was trying to help because you weren't in control. Several people back on Earth with broken bones could attest.

Archie excused himself, as he was going to head to put some cold water on it, but then surprised Nat by asking if she'd come with him. Her brow furrowed, her cheeks flush, and she just look straight up confused, until he clarified that he didn't want her to go into the boy's bathroom, but just to talk to her in private. Natalie coughed awkwardly.

"Oh, that's less weird. Yeah, sure. Give me a sec." she answered quietly, before turning to Keaton.

Keaton immediately suggested that Natalie have the chip, which she was thankful for. Her reasoning made sense, and Nat justified it to herself by thinking that even if Keaton had the chip and it was set off, if it was a busy area 100 steps wouldn't narrow it down much and backup suddenly arriving could give Arianna a chance, and reason, to escape. Whereas Natalie could at least survive getting attacked for a while, so could expose and engage Arianna and then just play for time with less danger of death. So Natalie took the chip, and plugged it into her phone. She then got up, mumbled a weak "See you two later," to Keaton and Eli, and took her leave of the table, finding Archie near the entrances to the restrooms.

"So what did you want to talk about?" she asked.

E L I

---

"Unlucky." Archie said, his smile speaking volumes.

“Real unlucky.” The smart girl repeated.

Eli glanced between the three with a sympathetic smile. These poor souls weren't even given some downtime on The Promise before it's curse leaked into their lives. They must have done pretty well on Earth to come aboard The Promise at such an old age. Or they were just great hiders. Either way, they didn't deserve such a shitty welcome to The Promise.

"Yeah, I hope Lynn's okay too. . . . Oh, yeah, hit it on somethin' on the way back. But that's... probably a good idea."

Lynn must have been the blonde girl's name. Didn't she spit steaming saliva onto the ground before stomping off, too? If she could burn his hand like that, the girl must be walking magma. An ability like that fascinated Eli. She'd always been jealous of elemental parahumans. To be able to control the physical world around you must be dangerously exciting.

Eli grew an amused smile as Archie perked up and removed his phone from his wallet. This guy was like a puppy. He handed her the phone with a polite smile and Eli took it without another word. She looked down to see that it was opened to a new contact page. Without hesitation, she entered her name and number. She even sent a text to herself so that she could save his number too before handing it back to him.

She was going to tell him that he could contact her whenever he pleased, but he'd already turned to Natalie. Eli could barely contain her smile as it seemed that he took her advice. There you go, Archie! A little awkward, but you got your point across. She glanced away to give the two some privacy, reminiscing the days when boys had been that awkward around her too. Her attention was quickly brought back by the friendly girl's words.

“I’m going to head off too, then. Eli, right? Are you sticking around?” Eli smiled, remembering that she had to ask for this girl's name before she left. “Let’s keep in touch. I’d love to hear more about how The Promise is and all, and you sound like the perfect person to ask if you’ve already been here for four years.”

Eli took her phone, giving her a friendly smile. "Feel free to message me whenever you'd like. I'm always open." She put her information into the phone and held the phone up to her. "I don't think I ever caught your name. We were all interrupted by Misters Black and White. You asked some pretty inquisitive questions. I wouldn't have even though to ask most of them." She stood up from the table, giving Natalie a wave goodbye before turning back to her new friend. Gosh, all of these girls are tiny. "We could meet up tomorrow. I'm off of work, but I have my training scheduled at 2 o'clock. Maybe you could ask those questions in the evening?"

Archie

---

”Oh, that's less weird. Yeah, sure. Give me a sec."

Archie, hearing his cue to leave, just about scurried off to the restrooms.

The men’s washroom wasn’t particularly interesting. It was just that, a men’s washroom. Tile flooring and blue walls. It was well maintained, which was better than a good portion of the bathrooms he had seen in his life, but there wasn’t a whole lot else to it aside from a small cork board that listed items for resale or club activities on the station. Archie let himself into the largest stall, the one that was usually reserved for disabled, and promptly shoved his hand under the sink.

He inhaled a short, sharp breath when he felt the cool water hit the inflamed skin of his hand. It was a stark contrast from the painful heat, but it felt nice. He continued to let the water run over his hand and in the meantime, Archie found himself staring down his reflection.

“You can do this.” He said, putting on a face that was as serious as he could. He would deal with all the schemes and villainy later. Today he was just a boy telling a girl that he liked her.

You’re an idiot. his reflection almost seemed to say back.

Archie had always been a person who wore his heart, stitched in bold red, to his sleeve. His mouth contorts at the thought. “I’m gonna do it. I’m gonna ask her out.” He declares, glaring daggers into his reflection succeeding only in making it seem more intimidating.

You’re still an idiot.

He breathed in, and pulled his hand out from under the faucet and gave his reflection the middle finger when he stepped away. Deciding to pay his uncooperative reflection no more mind, he stepped over to the air drier. He glared at it. He always hated air driers. They were loud and sounded over his own thoughts. When he stepped out of the stall, there were two other young men that glanced to one another, then at him, and then averted their eyes as if pretending they didn’t hear him give himself pep talk. Archie opened his mouth, debating whether or not to apologize for their secondhand embarrassment or not, but decided not to at the last moment. He put his head down and quickly ducked out to avoid further scrutiny.

When he left the bathroom, he just about collided with Natalie. Despite her smaller stature, he knew well enough that she would probably not budge an inch even if he ran into her at full speed. He took a deep breath, hoping she didn’t notice his anxiety. He goes nothing- oh, she was speaking.

”So what did you want to talk about?"

In a moment of courage unlike anything he had expected in his life, Archie answers her by sweeping her grandly towards him, dipping her downwards, and kissing her passionately on the lips. Or, at least, he tries to – he gets stuck on the first step, when he tugs Natalie's arms in his direction and they end up bumping their foreheads together.

“Ouch.” Archie says, more out of social convention than actual pain. He steeled himself further- hoping that this would be the one type that Natalie couldn’t bend.

“Will you go to homecoming with me? Not just like with me, but with me?”

Natalie Ellis

---

---

To Natalie's surprise, Archie didn't answer, and instead took her arms. For a split second, Nat had no idea what was happening. Then she had an idea and all the thing abut Archie that she'd been trying to repressed were fed and getting stronger. Soon they'd break out of the cage she put them in. But before anything else could happen, the two butted heads. Natalie barely budged, but still rubbed her head and sucked air through her teeth, not even needing to shake her arm free.

Then he asked her to Homecoming. Not just with him, but with him. He was asking her out. On a date. Girlfriend and boyfriend. Natalie froze. Literally. It was as if her software crashed and she had turned into a human statue. Inside her mind, all the complicated feelings and thoughts she had repressed had been let out, and it was anxiety time. She overthought this, worried about that. Why is he interested in her? Should she say yes? Different question; Did she want to say yes? The answer was yes. She did like Archie. It might not quite be love yet. She didn't have enough experience to know for sure if it was even a crush or not yet. But she liked Archie, quite a lot actually. They were kindred spirits. He might be the only person here who could understand her. They'd made a promise to protect each other. And thinking about him made everything complicated, hence why she had avoided doing it until now. Really, there was only one answer she could give;

"Yes. I'll go with you," she answered quietly, looking up at him. She was very visibly blushing.

Shit. What the hell happens now. If this were a movie, there'd be a scene cut or something. What do we do or say now. Am I supposed to let him talk? Do we just say 'see you there' and walk away? I...just need to relax. Be cool. Stop thinking so much and just say the first things that come to mind.

"Is you hand, uh, better?" Nat asked, weakly, immediately regretting it. Why does she keep listening to herself?!

Amelia

---

Amelia had been.....pacing. A lot. In retrospect she was coming to realize that hiding from what might be a conspiracy was not as fun as she thought it would be. She'd duck out now and then for class, grabbing quick amounts of food, and other necessities, but would always do so with a quick teleport there and back, never staying out of her room for too long. And it was.....starting to quite get to her. She sat down on her bed, and buried her head in her hands. Again. Cara spoke up from her phone for what must have been the umpteenth time. "Amelia. Are you sure you don't want to go out there?"

Amelia groaned. "Look, for the last time, I'm not getting murdered on this space station thousands of miles from my home. I'll just wait it out here until somebody else finally shows some decency and stops it."

"Do you even know how long you've been hiding here?"

Amelia was getting unceasingly frustrated. "Look, yes I know. It's been a long time. But I really like not being dead."

Cara's responses were increasingly snide, almost in an effort to goad Amelia into doing something different. "As much as you clearly hate being here? You've been pacing for hours."

"I'M FINE, CARA."

You could easily hear the amusement in Cara's tone now. "A fine person wouldn't have done what you did to the bathroom the other day."

That stopped Amelia cold in her tracks. "......What?"

Amelia stepped into her bathroom and was struck dumb by the sight. Written in what almost seemed blood red lipstick, on her bathroom mirror, was "All hide and no play makes Amelia a dull girl," over and over again. Amelia didn't make a noise for a while, before her declaration of "........Huh." She clicked her tongue for a few moments. "Hey Cara? I think I'm ready to go outside now."

"Why I think that's an excellent idea Amelia."

Amelia started throwing her jacket on. She pondered for a few moments on this.....let's call it a revelation, before her eyes fixed on her old duffel bag. A duffel bag that once held her dear hobby supplies in it. A thought occurred. "You know what? Fuck it. If I'm getting murdered its going to be while I do what I love." And with that, Amelia walked towards the door, and disappeared, the only sign of her previous presence being a momentary scar in reality.

---

Promise R&D wing. Trevor’s block. Radvi had been called over for something, quote-unquote, ‘bitchin’’.

“Here.”

He handed Radvi a handgun-looking tool - a taser, specifically. Grey surface with a yellow business end, multiple white constructional markings, a little ‘TN’ on the grip.

“It’s a taser.” Radvi said, in a rather unimpressed tone.

“It’s an anti-parahuman taser.” Trevor retorted, “It’s a prototype power-draining tool. It leeches the potential energy paras use for their bullshit, stores it inside the projectiles, and renders it inert.”

“Huh…” Radvi said, admiring the concept as he looked down at the work in progress in his hand. “So this is what you’ve been working on all this time.”

“Me and a bunch of other guys have been working on several null tech prototypes.” Trevor said, grabbing a pack of extra projectiles from his desk, “This is just the simplest thing I could pump out as soon as possible, and just in time for this dumb-shit homecoming nonsense Dunbar’s throwing. You’re gonna be my guinea pig - take it out for a spin, use it on any shit-kids who get too rowdy, tell me how it goes.”

“What about Arianna?”

“Who?”

“A-… y’know, the… the Jello Bitch.”

“Even fucking better - if she decides to turn up. Although I have my doubts on how well it’ll affect her specifically, given her power. But beyond that, I still need to see how it works on different paras with different variables in their physiologies.”

“Trevor, I’m not going to go shooting anyone with this unless they actually need to be shot, alright?” Radvi said as he held the taser up.

“Oh don’t you worry.” Trevor replied as he took a seat back at his work desk, “Whole station caught up in the festivities, kids sneaking alcohol into the punch bowls, too drunk or too pissed or both to be reasonable about how they swing their shit around? You’ll have a bunch of targets in no time! I mean SERIOUSLY-“

He slammed the desk with his hand.

“-what the FUCK is going through Dunbar’s head with this horse shit?!”

The sound of a door shutting was the first thing to answer Trevor’s question, followed by Gennedy clearing his throat at the entrance and crossing his arms at the two. “Is there an issue in here?”

“Not in here specifically.” Trevor replied, nonplussed by Gennedy’s presence, “But on the station as a whole? Plenty.”

“Trevor.” Radvi said as he turned his head, reprimanding him for his tone of voice.

Gennedy grunted in response, but didn’t seem to disagree with Trevor’s statement. “Dunbar and several others think it’s necessary to regain some good faith between security and occupants.” the man explained, walking forward to inspect the newly developed tool that Radvi was holding. If he wanted to see it, he didn’t voice his request. “I can’t say whether it’s the best decision or not, but Wrath and I thought funding projects like this one would be… more effective uses of our time. Rather than encouraging misdemeanors.”

“Spin them around blindfolded while we make up new ways to neuter them.” Trevor replied all so candidly, “Which I’d be all for, but unfortunately, a lot of those kids down there have enough brain cells to rub together to see what a crock of shit this all is.”

“I have to agree with him, sir.” Radvi added, “We both know at least a handful of students down there aren’t going to just sit and take this. And… who knows whoever else.”

Gennedy shrugged at this. “Wrath voiced similar concerns. Unfortunately we were outvoted. All I can do now is prepare my men and women as best I can.”

Radvi nodded. Trevor just leaned back in his chair and sighed. “Sir, before I forget…” Radvi continued, “I have some more info on my suspect. Including a name.”

_{“Jello Biiiiitch.”} Trevor said under his breath. Gennedy gave Radvi a pointed look, but didn’t say anything other than giving the man his attention. “Arianna.” Radvi continued, “Anderson gave me her name. He said he saw her during orientation. He saw the same footage I sent you and he recognized her.”

“How did Anderson witness the footage?”

“I… it was my decision to have Freaky-D show it to him. I thought that… since he was so caught up in all the past events, he might know something I didn’t.”

“Well, I hope you are up to damage control, then. We have an unpredictable potential distributor of that footage and unreliable information of a first name from a seventeen year old to show for it.”

“Sir, I know it’s hard to believe, but D isn’t pulling any tricks. He provided a sample of the suspect that Trevor-“

“Yo.” Trevor interjected with a wave.

“-confirmed was part of a super-organism. As for Anderson, I… I just don’t take him for the type to lie, sir.”

“I take it you don't take this super-organism responsible for over three hundred deaths as the type to lie either.” Gennedy said, his frown frown deepening with every word. He raised his hand to massage the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Okay, this is how it’s going to go, Jacob. You prove to me that this ‘Freaky-D’ person isn’t working against us and I’ll get him an ID so he can stay. But if he shows that footage to anyone, it’ll be your ass and Anderson’s, D’s, and anyone else that he shows the video to’s head. Am I clear?”

“Yes, sir.” Radvi replied, resolute.

“Good. Trevor.” Gennedy said, recognizing the other man before he departed from the lab, leaving the other two to their own devices. Trevor leaned forward from his chair, eyeing Radvi. “So you really are taking your stocks in a roller-skating clown and a teenage werelizard.” He said, “I mean, at least the clown has done some fair work. I know sound waves are something to work on to put up against Jello Bitch.”

“Yeah.” Radvi replied solemnly, “So… you still want me to hold onto this?” He held the taser up.

“Bedfellows regardless, you’re still the guy I trust the most among the security force around here.” Trevor replied, “You’ll do good work. I’m confident. In the meantime though, you should get ready to deal with tonight’s shitstorm. I’ll be pluggin’ away here.”

Radvi nodded, staring back down at the taser in his hand. At the very least, he was getting somewhere with all this.

One little step at a time.

Archie

---

"Is you hand, uh, better?"

Archie felt heat rush to his face, but at least he wasn't alone he thought idly. An idea popped into his head at her question, however, this time, his stomach knotted up, and he's one-hundred percent sure that he stopped breathing. Blushing even more at a small, absentminded scheme in his head, Archie swallowed his pride and embarrassment, leaned over and summoned every once of charisma and suaveness that he could. He took her hand in his own somewhat burnt one, not bothering with the pain. It didn't seem important right now.

"Yeah," he began, his lips curling up into an awkward, lopsided, but incredibly Archie smile for Natalie's benefit. "It is now."

---

A few more days passed in relative peace. School chugged along, power training occurred on the regularly, and no extraordinary circumstances arose that seemed to require security's full attention. But despite the relative peace, it was very obvious that all factions of The Promise, security, faculty, and occupants alike, were gearing up for something. That something being the station wide Homecoming dance. Sold as an excuse for the students to burn off all their pent up worries and fears for a night of laughter and party.

As with any large scale party, there was alcohol, and even substances if you knew where to find them. While the later was highly regulated, the former was much more difficult to enforce. The Promise took a worldwide audience and operated under the jurisdiction of international waters. For the most part, the age at which alcohol was allowed for purchase was eighteen, but several other countries only required a drinking age of seventeen to sixteen. All it took was flashing state ID to purchase below the standard age, although it wasn't like there was a shortage of student of age to begin with either. The atmosphere of the station was thick with a whole concoction of emotions. Romance, heartbreak, anxiety, courage, and the smell of teen spirit seemed to give the very air its own personality. As if the station was in the eye of a hurricane, or in the calm just before a storm.

Night was falling, and in the distance the early festivities are already beginning. While the school prepares its gymnasium, the campgrounds are creating bonfires, the restaurants and food trucks are open late, and the alleys are making deals. The whole station was coming alive, given a second wind of celebratory spirit when it normally would have long since fallen quiet until morning.

---

Archie's not drunk. He's been pacing himself, being careful in his pregaming. He knows what happens when he drinks too much—-it's happened at least four times before, and he's determined to put a stop to it and prove to himself that he has at least a semblance of self-control left in his body. That and with his recent condition, he wasn’t sure a few drinks too many simply was worth the risk of Hyde coming out to play.

For the first time in a month, everyone's in high spirits. Everyone seemed to have a reason to celebrate, either in memory of a friend, surviving a brush with death themselves, high grades, graduation, or the upcoming holidays. A few weeks from now, many of the people he had met in his power class would be walking across a stage with a diploma in hand and either catching a ride back to Earth for the first time in what was likely their entire adult lives or moving forward to pursue higher education through The Promise. So, right. Being careful. Take a few shots of alcohol and down a half glass of water. Archie mostly falls into the category of a Social Drinker—-only really drinking when he's surrounded by others that are partaking in alcoholic beverages as well, but he was starting early tonight because he needed the liquid courage for when he goes to pick Natalie up.

With a sigh of resignation, Archie sets his half-full cup on his desk. He's almost positive that he’ll find a way to knock it over in like, two minutes, but he can't say that he cares. Archie hates that he goes to this extreme every time he drinks; the alcohol feels good when it blurs his mind just enough to forget all of his predicaments, but feels not as good when he drinks enough to make himself sad.

Archie stood up to dress himself for the evening. He wanted to look presentable, but not so much so that he would ruin his clothing if he and Natalie found their way into one of the campground parties that Eli had mentioned. He slid on a pair of dark blue jeans, but the less worn ones that he normally kept on himself, and tossed a pair of black dress shoes on. He put a black dress shirt on. He had purchased it pretty recently, it had been his size when he bought it but now it hugged his body more than most clothes did after he had washed it with warm water instead of cold. Archie wasn’t sure whether that was a good thing or a bad thing yet. He fiddled with the buttons on the way up to his collar, giving himself funny looks into his mirror as he dressed himself.

Go for it.

A smokey smirk grew on his features, and he left the top two buttons undone- exposing his neck and collarbone. He feels confident now, and a part of him laughs at how quickly he can go from a cool to fool. He moves back to his chair and falls a little while he tries to sit down, after all, he's uncoordinated when sober and nearly dysfunctional when drunk. He pulls out his phone, clicks on the all to familiar conversation thread, and attempts to send a 'Hi'. It looks more like a shrimp emoji. Archie's tired.

Regardless, the message buzzes through. He squints a little in an attempt to follow up.

Archie: I KNOW that partie s arnet yor thing but
Archie: i’ll be heading ovcer soon

A thought comes to him then, and Archie just knows it's a brilliant idea.

Archie: and partys arent you4e thibg , but your my thing

"Smooth," he congratulates himself out loud. "Good, good reply." He reaches for the glass of water he had placed next to his drink and downs it. He didn’t want to be stupid when he met her. Sure, the alcohol wasn’t helping- but Natalie had found out fairly quickly that his fat fingers regularly made spelling errors. Although, perhaps not to this degree yet. He heads for the door to go and pick her up- fortunately and unfortunately, she was a problem student like him. This meant she lived in the women’s wing of his dorm facility so it wasn’t like he had to go far. It was nice in a way, having her so close. As he opens the door to head to hear dorm he takes an extra moment to stare at the text thread before shrugging and pocketing his phone. If anything could sum up his feelings, it's his (not-so) artfully done keysmashing.

Lynn

Lynn pulled a spoon out of the sudsy water of the dishwashing sink of El Vaquero. It glowed red in her bare hands. She threw it in the rack with the others, then resumed scrubbing. In the front of house, traditional mariachi music flowed from the speakers. In the back, rap reigned supreme.

Dinners were always busy, and Lynn was grateful for that - she was trying her absolute hardest to stay as busy as possible these last few days. Keaton had told her about the meeting after she left, and it had left Lynn with questions, questions that spun in her head and birthed more questions, like drinking saltwater when you were lost at sea. The faceless men were anywhere, in Lynn's mind, lurking in the shadows, right behind her as she showered, as she washed dishes, as she slept. Well, as she tried to sleep. Lynn had not found it easy to rest lately. There were things waiting for her. The noose was growing tighter around their necks, and Lynn's feet were starting to twitch. They don't know yet, Lynn thought. The ghostfuckers don't know what we know. Not yet. If they did, we'd be dead.

She put a plate on the rack. When was the last time she'd slept a full night? Her mind struggled to remember as the music blared and the angry shouting matches of line cooks and waiters flared up. Lynn kept scrubbing. Scrubbing was simple. For a few hours, Lynn could rack up some cash and not think.

"Despacia," Ignacio shouted at her, dropping a pile of dishes beside her.

"Tírate a tu mama," Lynn shouted back, shoving them into the scalding water. Tonight was Homecoming. What a fucking joke. She and Keaton were fairly confident nothing would go down tonight, in terms of explosions, or terrorist attacks, or four dead, gone, Salamandra's skull against the wall or anything else. Lynn was grateful for that, but the alternative irked her almost as much. Someone would want to invite her to something, she was sure - potentially Archie, the thought of whom still made her stomach twist. He's a fucking fool, Lynn thought, scraping a plate clean. Big, dumb puppy. Why did he grab me? Any other woman would've tased her ass or pepper sprayed him. Why would you grab me from behind? Damn you. Lynn had resolved to bury him. Hanging around him was only going to get her killed by the lizard or get someone else hurt. It happened every time. But there was something more that twisted at her, gnawed along with the leech-like questions that latched on and wouldn't let go. Something like flowers. Something like coming after her when she stormed off. Why'd he follow me? And why'd he grab me?

Lynn shook her head and kept working. She certainly wasn't going to any Homecoming dance. No one had asked her, which was whatever. She didn't talk to enough people to really be a candidate. How did that even happen, anyway? Lynn had stopped going to school before dances happened back on earth. What was even the point of one? Beyond that, there was something about dresses and makeup and pictures that made Lynn squirm in her skin. It made her think of sisters. Lucy's kid would be three or four by now. What if it was a para. That'd be fucking rich.

"Cordelia Lynn Holmes." Lynn stopped cold, steam pouring off her skin. She turned and looked at the bag next to her, staring down at it. Lynn turned off the water and knelt down. The voice, female and mechanical, repeated itself.

"What the fuck do you want?" Lynn asked. She could've sworn she turned it off. She...she could've sworn she did. Lynn could remember turning it off. Had she? Hadn't she? Lynn was forgetting things lately. Her grades were slipping. Who gives a shit, Lynn told herself. You'll be dead by Christmas. Lynn opened the bag after wiping her hands dry on her apron, which draped down to her ankles despite being the smallest size they had. She unzipped her bag and pulled out her phone, turned on.

Cara paused for a moment in agitation. "I have important news for you, from back home."

Lynn stared. "Is this some kind of game?"

"I only give unsolicited alerts in the event of disasters, emergencies, or personal tragedies. Your case worker requested that you be informed that your foster father, Gary Wendell Rogers, has passed away."

Lynn stared down at the phone, dumbstruck. "...what? Are you fucking with me, Carol?"

If it were possible for a machine to bristle, perhaps Cara would've. "No, Miss Holmes. He passed away three days ago."

"How?" Lynn asked, feeling something like a big warm cloud rising up inside her, swirling up into her face and pulling at her cheeks into a big wide grin. "Oh, Carrie, you gotta tell me how. C'mon."

"...you may find the circumstances of his demise traumatic, or - "

"Oh like I can't google the obituary anyway, just save me the hassle."

"...he was violently stabbed in prison by the other inmates. Initial reports indicate it was a crude form of justice meted out by the others. I am sorry for your loss."

"I'm not! Thanks, bitch!" Lynn turned the phone off and threw it back in her bag, turning back to the sink. Lynn giggled. She started to full-on laugh. "Holy shit," Lynn said, her eyes watering as she keeled over the sink. "Oh holy shit, this is like Christmas come fucking early." Lynn, cackling, took her shift break, laughing too hard to light a cigarette out by the dumpsters behind the restaurant. "Oh holy shit, I'd forgotten he was even in there," Lynn wheezed. If Archie thought his hand got burned he should've seen that fucker's. Hah! Lynn's break ran five minutes over. I will buy Cara a drink or set her up with a nice lamp or USB stick or something for this. Oh Christ this is hilarious.

Lynn finished her shift as inefficiently as possible before pulling aside Ignacio. She handed him a roll of cash and he returned with two full bottles of tequila, which Lynn dutifully shoved into her bag, throwing her hoodie back on. He eyed them, and then Lynn, thin and short, a hesitant look creeping over his face.

"¿Cuantos años tienes, chiquíta?"

Lynn grinned. "Demasiado para Gary!"

Ignacio cocked his head in confusion, but Lynn did not particularly care if anyone else got the joke. She was still reeling from the punchline. Lynn left the restaurant out back, pulling out her phone and half expecting Cara to say something bitchy. For once, the thoughts of the Promise and Salamandra and Che and everything were slipping from her mind. She was weary from work and riding the high of hearing about a good old-fashioned ass-kicking. Lynn scrolled the wheel down to Keaton's number and punched out a quick text.

"What's the fucking move? I've got us hooked up. Tonight we are CELEBRATING."

Lynn figured she'd pass the word along to Eli if she wanted. She'd hung with Eli a few times, mostly in Keaton's presence. Was Eli cool? Debatable. Lynn still didn't trust Keaton, but, you know, maybe she relied on her somewhat, or sometimes enjoyed being around her, but she didn't trust her, because trusting someone was how you got fucked over. It was just that when Lynn thought of who she wanted to hang with tonight, Keaton happened to be the first, but that was solely because they had to keep up pretenses if Ebony and Ivory were stalking them, or the Promise wanted to know why they kept meeting up. Nothing more. And Eli was just like, another alibi.They were both...Lynn didn't know. They were older, and...sometimes Lynn thought about them and it was like thinking about the dresses and everyone she'd passed on the way here, tall and long-legged, faces contoured like fucking marble sculptures, with her smoking a cigarette and pulling back her flickering hair in a lazy band. But those times seemed fewer and further between. Especially tonight. Tonight, Lynn was getting fucking annihilated.

Lynn grinned - wider. She hadn't stopped grinning in an hour. It was a crime to not share good liquor. Tonight they were going to pour out a whole ass handle. If Arianna showed up, Lynn would buy her a round. She pulled her phone back out and punched out, "You know what, bring Eli." Lynn would pour a shot for anyone who wanted one tonight. Fish, Denim, Breakfast Club, maybe even that Paw Patrol ass cop.

And Archie? Or Natalie?

Lynn hesitated, a brief stutter-step in her bouncy walk back to her dorm. She...she wasn't sure about that. But it didn't matter. Fuck it. She earned this.

Natalie Ellis

---

---

Natalie's dorm room. It was away from all the others. The walls were made of steel-reinforced concrete. Natalie didn't know how thick. Inside was a very cheap-looking bed with a metal frame, on which was a basic white duvet. Natalie dare not spend her precious money on something that could become a wasted investment after one bad night's sleep. And sure enough, the wall closest to the bed was covered in dents and craters a point-blank grenade blast couldn't even manage to make. On the other side of the room was an old chair that had been unwanted, and donated by the the local library for being old and gross and one of the legs was a little wonky. There was also a desk, with a television on it, as well as a dock to charge her phone, and some open books and journals. Natalie didn't have much of a social life so spent a lot of her free time in here using the internet, watching TV, or reading.

But right now, she was inside the room's en suite, in front of the mirror, applying makeup. Yesterday, Natalie had been to the hair salon. Her hair was longer than it was since she came here, meaning she could do more things with it. The day before, she went shopping for something to wear for Homecoming. She didn't want to let Archie down, and times were rare when Natalie could indulge, and just feel like a girl for once. But of course she wanted something that covered her arms and back, which narrowed down options for somebody so tall and old. She had finally found one that did everything she wanted, as long as she wore tights with it.

Now, here she was. She'd finished applying her makeup, more than usual, and looked at herself in her bathroom's foggy mirror. She wasn't a vane person so it was with no conceit that she admitted her reflection was pretty. Nodding in satisfaction, now she just waited. She checked her phone again, just in case, and sure enough, Archie had texted her.

Archie: I KNOW that partie s arnet yor thing but
Archie: i’ll be heading ovcer soon
Archie: and partys arent you4e thibg , but your my thing

Nat felt the fluttering in the pit of her stomach upon reading that. Grammar aside, that was without doubt the most romantic thing anybody had ever said to her. She'd practically counted out the possibility of ever receiving a text like this. She had to text back. She couldn't just copy his words and return them. She had to be original! Picking up her clutch purse, she went to her bed and sat down. She wasted time by first putting her shoes on. (They weren't heeled as she was tall enough already and didn't want another thing to think about)

Natalie: I'll see you by the front door.

She sent that, before thinking. 'Don't keep me waiting' is too cheeky for her, and Archie might take it seriously as Natalie isn't the coy, joking type. 'Looking forward to it' sounds so formal. She's not applying for a job here. No. She's overthinking this. Resorting to cliches. She needs to put what she feels. It needs to be honest and personal even if it's lame.

Natalie: And thank you, Archie. I'm glad you're my date for this.