A.N.

Hello everyone! Discordant Night here, with another chapter of I Am Number Three. Sorry to leave you off at a cliffhanger there, but I kinda needed to split it in half. Anyways, on to shoutouts.

Forgotten Skies: Thanks for your thoughts on the POVs, especially One's involvement in the story. I also like that you appreciate the pissing contest bit. I figured that since One lives inside his head anyways, she might have seen a couple things she never wanted to.

Leaning Leon: Thanks again for the input. I prefer seeing things from other perspectives, hence the entire story, but to each their own.

Any who. Next chapter is in the works.

Enjoy.

Three

"Henri!"

Henri sits in the corner of the basement, tied hand, foot and torso to a chair. He squints, his eyes adjusting to the sudden light. Duct tape forms a gag across his mouth, and his hair is a mess. Dried blood forms a line down the right side of his face, old enough that it looks black in the light.

It makes me furious.

Four blurs past me and rips the tape from his mentor's mouth. Henri gasps for air, grateful to be able to breath unhindered.

"Thank God," Henri breathes. His voice is weak. "I shouldn't have come here, should've listened to my gut."

Four shushes the Cepan, then kneels and begins burning the ropes binding the elder Loric with a weak jet of flame. The room reeks of urine.

"I was ambushed," Henri says.

"How many?" One asks.

"Three."

"I tied one of them up upstairs," Four says. "And one left before we broke in." With that, the rope binding Henri's ankles snaps, and the Cepan stretches his legs with a sigh.

"I've been in that damned chair all day," he says. "My legs feel like a shit horse sat on them."

I'm too relieved to correct him.

Four begins working on the ropes around Henri's hands.

"How did you get here?"

"Sam," One says. "We took his father's old truck."

Henri nods. "I'm glad you made it. Where is he?"

"Tailing the one that left before we made it in," I say. "He's supposed to call if he heads back this way."

The creak of floorboards comes from above, and we all freeze. My eyes snap to One, her irises once again merged as Adam joins her in their mind. Four loses his flames, plunging the room into semi-darkness as he steels himself for a fight. I ridge my knuckles once more, sensing rather than seeing my surroundings.

It's at that moment that Adam's phone decides to start ringing, sounding off the first five bars to the Ryu Remix of Caramelldansen.

Adam and One cringe. "Sorry," they mouth, digging into their pocket before silencing the phone too late.

The footsteps above us turn to stomps as their owner races across the living room in the first floor, no doubt having found the Steelers banner removed from the wall. We watch the doors with bated breath.

A foot steps onto the top stair, then a second. They take the second step, and bit by bit, Rocky Balboa steps into the basement. That'd be the worst of it, if he didn't have Sam by the back of his neck.

"Party's over, assholes." he says. He's holding a .22 against Sam's temple, the safety clicked off. "Hands up or the nerd gets it."

Now I understood. Rocky wasn't a nerd. He was hired muscle.

One, Adam, Four and I slowly, carefully raise our hands. We trade glances, One and Adam tilting their head just enough that I understand their idea. Four and I trade a glance, my eyes flitting down to his hands and over to Sam. Four nods, a minuscule movement that could be mistaken for a twitch.

"They told us you'd be coming," Rocky says. "That you'd look just like humans, but that you were the real enemy." The gun trembles in his hand, his fear showing.

"What are you talking about?" I ask. "We just want our friend."

"They're delusional," Henri says. "Think we're the real enemy."

"Shut up!" The man screams. "I swear to fucking god, I'll blow this dude's head off!" He takes two steps toward me, dragging Sam behind him. "One false move by any of you, and he gets it. You freaks got that?"

We nod in agreement.

"Good," Rocky says. "Now, catch this." He pulls a roll of duct tape from the shelf and tosses it to Four. As it moves through the air, I nod to Adam and One, who freeze the roll midair with a glance. It hangs, eight feet above the ground, halfway between Four and Rocky.

"What the..." Rocky stares, dumbfounded at the seemingly magical roll of tape.

"Hey, Rocky," Four says.

The muscle bound moron snaps his head to Four.

Four smiles. "Say cheese!" He snaps on his Lumen, turning his hands into floodlights as the room fills with blinding white light. Rocky screams, eyes blinded momentarily by the sudden increase in luminosity. He drops the gun as his hands fly to his eyes, trying to shield them from Four's Lumen.

"Now!" I yell.

Adam and One launch the tape at Rocky, the grey projectile slamming into the thug's mouth at sub-sonic speeds. It hits its mark, blood dripping from the merc's mouth as he flies backwards, propelled by the impact. At the same time, I use my mind to reach out and catch the gun before it hits the ground, pulling it into my hand and emptying the chamber into the air. Bullets hang in empty space, caught by One and Adam, then positioned to hang mere inches from the mercenary's nose.

"Hey fatboy," One says.

Rocky opens his eyes, only to see the bullets in front of him.

"You're going to need a lot more than that." One lets the bullets drop, clattering with a metallic clang on the concrete floor.

He turns to run, but One and Adam pull him back across the room and hold him against one of the support pillars. He's babbling, obviously not used to people catching bullets midair. Adam takes a finger and presses down on his neck, sending the man into a paralyzed state before his head slumps over. They take the tape and secure the man to the pillar.

"That could have been messy," Sam observes. "How'd you know it would work?"

One stares at the nerd. "We didn't."

"Oh."

Four finishes freeing Henri, who rubs his wrists as he stands. "I'm glad you all came," he says. "But we need to leave."

Everything slows as Sam yelps, thrust forward down the remaining stairs as he's shoved from behind. Four reaches for him, grabbing the nerd inches before he crashes into the floor head-first. My head whips up to the stairs at the same time One's does, to the person atop the stairs.

It's the third person Henri mentioned.

He stands, mouth agape as he tries to figure out what just happened. Mine and One's hands reach out as he turns to run, but the combined pull of our telekinesis is too strong. Instead he slips down the stairs, held above the ground by One and I.

"Tend to Henri and Sam," I say. "Adam and I will take care of this one."

Four nods. "Understood."

One, Adam and I carry the man upstairs, who kicks and screams obscenities the whole way. On the second floor we drop him in a chair, One holding him there while I tape him to it. He screams more, cursing at us.

"Why can't you just leave us be?!"

"Shut up," I spit.

The man unloads another string of curses. I sigh, turning my back to search for something to gag him with. Abruptly, the man stops cursing, mid curse. I turn around and stare at him. His mouth is wide open, but nothing comes out. I look to One.

"I got tired of his mouth," She says. "So I gagged him using telekinesis."

I nod, then tape his mouth shut.

Four, Henri and Sam join us shortly, and Henri nods at One and I. "Good job, you three," he says. Henri has the gun from downstairs tucked in the waistband of his pants, bullets expended. But the two up here don't know that.

He scans the room, looking first at the struggling man and then at Samurai Jack. He passes the former, then pulls the gun from his waistband and cocks it, pointing it at Jack's chest.

"You were warned," he says.

Samurai Jack nods.

"Well, now you're going to talk." He pulls the tape from the man's mouth. "And if you dont..." Henri shrugs. "You'll find out how much pain a person can go through from just one bullet. Now who visited you?"

Samurai Jack shudders. "There were three of them," he says.

"So?" Henri asks. "There are more of us. Who cares? Keep talking."

Th-they told me if you showed up and I said anything, they'd kill me," the man says, terrified. "I won't say anything more."

Henri takes the gun and presses the muzzle to the man's forehead. Four averts his eyes, visibly uncomfortable. One and Adam gaze intently, which makes me uncomfortable even if there were no bullets. I tap Henri's shoulder, and he lowers the gun.

"Let me," I say.

Henri shrugs, but sheathes the weapon anyways. "Please, be my guest," he motions to the man.

I kneel before the man and put my face close to his. "Do you know who we are?" I ask.

The man swallows. "You... You're the ones they warned us about. You want to take over the Earth."

I shake my head. "See, that's where you're wrong." I raise my hand so he can see, then slowly, methodically, change.

My hand morphs, bones cracking beneath my skin. Sinew snaps, bones become brittle as my hand melts like wax. Muscles undulate as my hand deforms, the individual strands twisting and tearing. It feels strange... but not unpleasant. Flesh creeps over my bones as they remold, stretching, bending, DNA breaking down and becoming anew. Bones crack as they break to make room for new growth, the unsettling pop reminding me of a scene from Nightmare on Elm Street.

The man watches in horror, until at last the change is finished. Where my hand once was now sits the pincer of a long dead crustacean. For effect, I clack the points together, then grip one of the legs of his chair. I close the pincers around the wood without effort, the leg of the chair exploding into splinters. The chair topples to the ground with a thud, Samurai Jack in tow.

He doesn't say anything as I reform my hand.

"Do you understand?" I ask. "We could do that to you if we felt like it."

The man nods vigorously, still speechless, his bladder now empty once more.

I pick the chair up and hover it above the ground. I stand maybe three feet from him now, the chair floating six feet off the ground. I look to One, who nods. I smile, then flip the chair over.

"Come on!" he yells.

"Start talking."

"I can't!" he yells again. "They said they'd kill me!"

I shrug. "So be it." I drop the chair, letting it fall to the ground. The man screams, but his screams halt as One catches the chair inches from the ground. She raises the chair back up to eye level.

"There were three of them!" he yells, words flying out of his mouth. "They showed up the same day the magazines went out! They showed up that night."

"What did they look like?" Henri asks.

"Like ghosts," the man says. "Pale, almost albino-looking. They wore sunglasses, but when we wouldn't talk, one of them took them off. They had black eyes, blacker than night, blacker than ink, and their teeth were unnaturally pointy. They looked as if someone filed them to a point. All of them wore long coats and hats, like something out of a corny spy movie. What the hell more do you want?!"

"Why did they come?"

"Our source, they wanted our source." He breaks into a sweat, breathing heavily. "We told them. A man had called, said he had an exclusive about group of aliens who wanted to destroy our civilization. Only problem is, he called on printing day, so instead of printing the full story, we put in a small quip and said more to follow. He talked so fast we hardly grasped what he was saying! We planned on calling him the next night, but that didn't happen. The Mogadorians showed up instead."

"How could you know they were Mogadorians?"

"What the hell else could they have been?!" the man screams. "We wrote a story about the Mogadorian group of aliens, and lo and behold, a group of aliens shows up on our doorstep the next day wanting to know where we got the story. It doesn't take a genius to connect the dots."

One flips the man over and lowers him to the ground, then sets her hands on her hips. "Watch your mouth," she says.

Henri shoots her a look, but continues the questioning. "Was that the only time they came?"

The man shakes his head. "They came back."

"Why?"

"They wanted to make sure we didn't print anything else! I don't think they trusted us, but the man who called us never answered his phone again, so we had nothing else to print!"

"What happened to him?" Henri asks.

"What the fuck do you think happened to him?" the man shoots back.

Henri nods pensively. "So they knew where he lived."

Out the window, lights start to go out one by one. I look to Adam, Sam and Four, then jerk my head downstairs. They follow, down the stairs and into the night outside the house, leaving Henri to continue the interrogation. Darkness envelops the street, like something out of a horror movie. One by one the lights on this street dim, before finally winking out of existence. Silence glides through the night, not even the creak of crickets to be heard.

One looks around. "It's too quiet out here," she says.

I nod. "Agreed. Think they could be coming?"

Adam nods. "They will have been watching..." He trails off. "Shit." Fear fills his eyes, and his body kicks into overdrive. "I'm such an idiot. Four, Sam, get Henri. Three, with me. We need to be gone yesterday."

We nod, jumping into action. Adam and I race upstairs, destroying every shred of Loric-related evidence. Four and Sam explain the situation to Henri in hushed whispers, who looks to the men we tied up. He sighs, then nods to Four. Four slices the bonds on both men, pushes open the door to the porch with his mind, then grabs one and takes a running jump off the balcony. Henri looks to me, motioning for me to do the same.

I grab the man we brought up, tossing him over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes before jumping . We hit the roof of a house across the street with a muted thud, and I look to the porch. Adam makes the jump next, with Henri and Sam over his shoulders. They hit with a bigger thud, and I'm positive the residents of this house can hear us landing on their roof. Henri pulls Sam and Adam down on their stomachs, then motions for the others to do the same.

"Can you get us down to the ground?" Henri asks Four and I. We nod, then lower the two men to the ground, then Henri and Sam. Looking to Four and Adam, we nod, then slip off the roof in unison to the ground below. Once on the ground, Four and I turn to see three very confused, very angry Mogs standing on the porch across the street, sword gleaming against the night.

Without a second to spare, we leave undetected.

...

We decide to take Sam's truck back to Paradise, leaving the journalists from They Walk Among Us with Henri's truck. It's the least we can do after bringing the Mogs down on them. Henri doesn't say anything during the two hour drive home.

Once home, Henri sends Sam on his way, promising to call him first thing in the morning. But I know better. Henri won't be calling him in the morning. Neither will I.

Henri locks the door once inside, then opens the closet and drags out a series of dufflebags. "Pack," he says. "We leave before dawn breaks."

Adam grabs one, then offers the next to me. I take it, but not without hesitations. Four refuses the last bag.

"No," he says sternly.

Henri stops rummaging through the closet and peeks his head out. "Excuse me? My ears must need cleaning, because it sounded like you just said 'no'."

Four nods. "I did. And I'll say it again, Henri. No. I'm not leaving, not when I finally have a chance at a normal life." He braces his body, squaring his shoulders as if prepping for a fight. "You're not the one being hunted, Henri. I thought I was the one in danger. In fact, you could walk away right now and the Mogadorians wouldn't bat an eye. You could do whatever you want. I can't. They will always be after me, after Three. We're not children anymore, Henri. This is my choice. Three's choice."

Henri looks from Four to me, then back to Four. "That was a nice speech," Henri says. "But it doesn't change anything. Now pack your stuff, Four. We're leaving."

Four glowers, then raises his hand and lifts Henri to the ceiling. "No," he says. "We're not."

Henri's shocked, and so am I. "Four," I say slowly. "Think about this. Think about what can happen if we stay."

"I have thought about it, Three." Four snaps. "And I realized, I like my life here. I love my friends, I love my girlfriend, and I love the life I have here in Paradise." He turns to Henri. "And I'm ready to fight for what I love, whether it be against the Mogadorians, or you."

Henri raises an eyebrow. "Adam," he says slowly. "Does One feel the same way?"

Adam's eyes glaze over before he nods. "I do," One says. "I feel it would be beneficial to remain in Paradise for the time being."

Henri turns his gaze to me. "Three?" He asks.

I shrug. "Whatever, man." I say softly. "I'm already outnumbered two to one. At this point, I'm just along for the ride." I toss my bag on the couch. "Just don't let the house burn down, ok?" I say. "We kinda need the good rep here in town."

Henri sighs. "I assume, Four, that you're planning on keeping me up here all night?"

Four nods. "Until I get tired or pass out, but once I'm rested, I'll have you back up there."

The Cepan sighs again, this time in resignation. "Fine, we'll stay. But on one condition: the first time we hear anything about the Mogs, we're out of here faster than you can blink."

Four frowns, but lowers the Cepan to the ground and releases his hold.

"Fine."

Henri dusts off imaginary dirt from his clothes, then sighs. "Go to bed, everyone. We'll train in the morning."

...

Six

In the weeks following my near-death escape from Tennessee, I stay on the run. Zayne's truck is stocked well enough for a Loric on the run, hidden compartments in the floorboards and beneath the seats. I keep it idling, even when I sleep, pulling into alleyways and deserted rest stops to catch an hour or two of shut-eye at a time. No sense in being caught before the battle has already begun.

The national news covers most of it, writing the incident off as a natural gas explosion. Which, if you want to get technical, it kinda was. But who's keeping track?

The Aeturnus's last words ring through my mind over and over, but I struggle to make sense of them. How will I know when the others need me? How will I find them?

Frustrated, I dig through my bag, looking for my cigarettes. When I grab the box, it crushes in my hand, unsupported due to the lack of substance inside. I growl and rip off the top.

There's a letter inside, the cigarettes missing to make room for it. I pluck it from the container and unroll it.

"Six," it reads. "I've been keeping tabs on you for longer than you know. I knew sooner or later you'd get frustrated enough to go for a smoke, and you'd find this." I frown. Even now, I'm being trained by the Cepan.

The note continues. "In your Chest, there should be a glass ball." I check my Chest, and sure enough, a perfectly round orb sits among the items of my Inheritance. I continue to read. "This is a macrocosm. It will show the locations of other Loric on the planet, but only when their Chests are open. It might come in handy in days to come." I read the message again, impressed. This little ball can do all that?

Impressed, I turn the note over, looking for a continuation. Nothing. It seems that that was the only thing he felt I needed to know.

"Well damn," I mutter. "That's great and all, but what does that tell me right now?"

My phone begins to ring. I stare at the device, wondering who could be calling me. It rings once, twice, three times before I decide to pick up.

"Pizza Hut," I say. "Can I take your order?"

"One veggie surprise," the voice on the other end says with a smile. "Large."

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. "Zayne," I say softly. "Thank god."

"How are you holding up?" He asks.

"I'm fine," I say. "Found your note."

"I see," is his reply. "Those things are bad for you, you know. I took the liberty of disposing of them for you."

I nod. "I was wondering where they went. What's up?"

"There were pictures circulating on the Deep Net about the incident last Halloween," he says, hesitating. "Someone wants to talk to you about it."

"Wait what?"

"She's been vouched for," Zayne says quickly. "We believe her and her companion are allies."

I shake my head, disbelieving. "How did they find you?" I ask. Zayne and Luna had many fail-safes in place for someone to casually find them. Too many, in fact. For someone to be able to find them... It's inconceivable. One would have to have extensive contacts, all across America, not to mention friends in very high places. Either that, or know their way around the net and its workings like...

"Zayne," I say slowly, "How many Mogadorians are there like Luna, who came before this entire war broke out?"

"Not many." He says. "Why?"

I shake my head, the thought escaping. "Nevermind," I say. "Patch me through to them."

There's a click, then a dial tone as the Aeturnus connects me with the mysterious caller.

"Hello?" she says. "Hello?"

I remain silent, attempting to get a feel for the person on the other end of the line.

"Hello?" she asks again, before another voice joins in. "Are you even sure they're there?"

"I'm sure of it," Zayne says. "Maren, please. These people want to help."

I sigh. "I'm here," I mumble into the receiver. "Zayne said you want to help, so help me."

"See?" the second female says. "That wasn't too hard, was it?" "Hush," the first female says. "Maren Elizabeth, I presume?" My silence is more than enugh confirmation for her. "My name is Yakasha Nakrim. Most call me Kasha."

I blink. "You want to help?" I ask. "Get to the point."

"Very well," Yakasha says. "I am a Mogadorian, contacting you on behalf of the Loric Number Nine."

My breath catches in my throat. This girl, this Mog, knows Nine. How many others know of them?

"Maren," the Mogadorian says, "I know you probably don't trust me, but we need to meet. Soon."

I lick my lips, trying to find enough moisture to form words. Finally, I force out the last words I ever thought I'd say to a Mogadorian.

"When do you want to meet?"

End Chapter 25

A.N.

Well hello everyone! Glad to see you all made it to the end of this chapter!

So, with the Mogadorians hot on the trail of our Paradisians, how long do you all think it'll be until they're done for? And how will Six handle meeting our Mogadorian ally?

Anyways, I'm so excited! This has been almost a three year project, and it's finally coming to a close! Just five chapters left until the end of Book One!

But seriously though. Do you all want me to continue after the end of Book One? I know this book took a long while to complete, but was it worth it? I think it is. Then again, that's my bias talking. I DID write mostly all of it. If you would like me to continue, please say so in the comments? I'd hate to release a continuation to this and have it go unread.

Anyways, I've decided to kill the review requirement. I feel it kinda turns people off of the story, so I'll just write the chapters and go off the views and reviews for each of them. If there isn't enough views and reviews, I'll just end the story, or leave it dead until I feel like picking it up again. It's whatever.

P.S. Does anyone actually read these Author's Notes?