April 13th

"She can be so… ugh!"

Amy continued to stomp down the street, dragging me along with a hand still clasped in mine despite me trying to free myself.

She was deceptively strong.

"Treating you like a criminal when you haven't done anything wrong! I mean really!"

"Amy," I said with a tug on her arm. "Stop, it's alright."

Amy whirled on me, releasing my hand as she did so.

"How can you say that!?" she screeched. "You were shot at and nearly killed! It was self-defense! Even the PRT agreed!"

I frowned. While true, there was a hell of a lot more going on as well, like the fact that I wasn't even supposed to be there in the first place.

And I was really surprised that I was taking it all so well, considering that I'-

"It still happened Amy," I defended while blocking it all out. "She just… had the particulars wrong."

Amy huffed. "Sure, and Conscript is a mercenary."

Again, particulars. I sensed that Amy was acting out on something more than what she was talking about.

Still, it must have bothered her greatly, she'd dragged me several blocks away from the PRT building by this point.

"We really shouldn't have left like that," I noted to Amy. "The PRT still had questions and that guy had to have been working for Coil. We can't just leave after everything that happened."

Speaking of which, how the hell did we just walk out of the building so easy? Wasn't it on lockdown? I mean, one of their troopers had just tried to kill a prisoner while another that was being questioned wandered into a restricted area; how could we just walk out?

Why did no one stop us?

Miss Militia maybe? She had been trying to get me out of the building in the first place after all…

Amy paused for a moment, thinking.

"Coil, isn't he just a small-time villain?" she asks. "Must not be so small time if he can get a mole into the PRT."

"He must be," I evaded. She didn't need to know that Coil was gunning for me, nor what I knew about what had happened.

Amy eyed me for a moment, her mouth opening as if to say something.

Before sighing and asking, "… do you want to walk back or take the bus?"

I didn't know the bus routes in the area, and while we couldn't see the PRT building anymore, at least Amy had taken us in a more or less straight line towards the mountains.

… I wasn't that weak, was I? She had dragged me several blocks after all.

Maybe it was from living with Vicky.

"Let's just walk back," I reply. "It isn't that far."

Amy nodded but didn't take her eyes off of me.

"… what happened back there?" she asks, eyes swirling with curiosity. "The way that thin-"

One second we were alone in the fading sunlight of a downtown side street, the next there was a man with a black bodysuit and bandoleer standing in-between us. The demonic mask with fangs, horns and a leering ear-to-ear grin telling us exactly who it was.

"Your presence is requested," spoke Oni Lee. His tone suggested that it wasn't a request.

March 23rd

Heading back to Arcadia meant falling back into a routine. A blessing considering the last few days.

After Lisa had left, I was stuck on what to do. Did I tell dad about her and the info she'd imparted? The PRT? Dragon?

In the end, I found that I couldn't. If the bombshell that Lisa has dropped on me was even half true, then I couldn't trust the PRT. As for dad…

I wanted to tell him, I really did. After the last two years of keeping secrets and dealing with things on my own, then getting released from it all… I didn't want to go back to that.

Yet… I didn't tell him about it when he came home that day.

Out of fear? Maybe. Knowing my dad, he would want to get involved in protecting me, which could mean an increase of Parental Hovering (something I'd only experienced after the Locker). Plus he might want to go to someone at the PRT or police to report it.

Both of which could result in us getting killed.

And Dragon? I could call her, I even thought about it. But I ended up getting a message from her, telling me to stay calm and that she was looking into things.

Evidently, my new 'gift' had a set of trackers in it, and a program keyed to listen to certain words and places, just in case something like this happened.

Sure, having it made up for the fact I had bugs in my house (the electronic ones, not the skittering ones) something that I kinda figured would happen. I did basically blow up a school after all, but there was a difference between figuring that you were being watched and knowing that you were.

I knew that the PRT was going to keep an eye on me just in case I ended up killing someone (why wouldn't they?), but finding out for a fact still stung.

Dragon had tried apologizing for all of it, and while the betrayal had hurt, the fact that I wasn't alone in this whole Coil business helped smooth things over.

Somewhat.

Still, I promised I would keep the phone on me and had asked what to do next.

What I learned was disappointing.

Turns out, real life isn't like the movies; the heroes don't find the exact information they need, and the next thing that happens is they are busting door the villain's door, stopping them at just the right moment.

Dragon had no idea who Lisa was, and if Coil was really that deeply embedded into the PRT, then finding who to trust to dig him out was paramount. And it hurt to hear her say that I should go along with what Lisa had said, that I should just act normal.

I had almost stopped texting Dragon after that. Sure, it made sense, as if I suddenly vanished into the PRT just after what happened, a few flags would be raised. Flags that could cause Coil to vanish, likely taking anything and everything he had with him.

And quite possibly killing Lisa at the same time.

Hate… was a strong word for what I felt for Lisa after what she did, as she had pulled me into this mess with Coil, but I didn't want her dead over it. Plus, it sounded like I was already pulled in, I just wasn't aware of it yet.

Still, the thought of sitting around and waiting for stuff to happen made me antsy.

People like Coil, the ones that didn't hesitate in killing, they were the ones that the PRT and the police always warned people about.

And I was somehow messing with him.

The fact that me and my father hadn't been killed yet was surprising, yet…

Killing me out of the blue wasn't the mark of a patient man, and what little Lisa had shared pointed towards Coil being very patient.

Which had its own problems: that didn't mean that he didn't have someone waiting for a phone call, just to end my life (another reason that I wasn't being shuffled into PRT protection right now).

It was amazing how your whole perspective of life changed when it was on the line. Maybe that was why I was keeping this from dad, I didn't want him to end up like me, constantly looking around, checking for that one random face of my killer, while trying so hard to be normal.

… perhaps I was exaggerating, as Coil did send Lisa to talk to me about recruitment. Maybe killing me off was the thing he would do last.

… that wasn't a better thought considering the circumstances now.

But at school, I could fall into the flow of life there; classes, homework, lunch, that kind of thing. Normal things. It was something I was used to, for better or worse, Winslow had taught me many things about how to get by day by day.

If only the students were more accommodating to my hidden plight.

"… I'm sorry?"

Dennis, who was leaning to the side to make eye contact through the gap between the computers, shrugged.

"I just noticed that you were eating alone the other day, and wanted to know if you wanted to sit with my friends and me."

This, was unexpected. I had only been going to Arcadia for a few (short) weeks now, and I was careful to keep my distance from everyone on account of the shifting tides of students seeking new friends and losing old ones (there even had been a few fights that had broken out, likely formed or started by students from Winslow).

"I know that it sounds strange," Dennis continued. "But… well, Arcadia lets some of the kids leave campus for lunch, if you're doing good in classes that is, and I spotted you by yourself as we were leaving through the lot. And it got me thinking… all I see you do is come to class and leave. Sure, you say hi to me, but only after I say it. I don't really know what Winslow was like, but… Arcadia isn't like that. Current bit of chaos not included."

… he was right, I was ghosting through my classes.

I was… content, with this, to ease back into a social life on my own terms. I had no intention of repeating the few times that someone back in Winslow had done more than just talk to me in class. It was familiar, safe, and it was routine.

The bombshell that Lisa had dropped in my living room just made keeping my distance easier. I doubted Coil had students under his employ, but I also didn't want anyone else getting caught up in my life with him around.

Yet…

It would be nice, to hang out with other people, despite the fear I felt. I couldn't just hang out with dad my entire life after all.

Plus, and this was some wishful thinking, what if I managed to get away from Coil? Would I still act this way? Or would I then start to move on?

The PRT was onto him now, and despite what ad happened to me, they couldn't have lasted this long as an organization while being incompetent.

… right?

But that could be weeks, if not months, and Dennis… he seemed like a nice guy. Helpful and kind the few times I'd talked to him, and he wasn't an idiot or anything.

We hadn't really interacted all that much, though he often would say 'hi' and ask me how I was doing just before class was starting. He also was helpful in telling me how to get into some settings and where to find things on the school's site, as well as the best way to get into the few web sites that we needed for the schoolwork and tests.

I learned a few bits about him in that time, like how he was good at typing, but hated working with formulas. He also apparently made a mean PowerPoint presentation.

So, solely based upon that, Dennis was an OK guy. I just didn't know if he was the type that I would be able to get along with, nor did I know if his friends were good people as well.

At the same time…

'You will have to move on at some point, to take the steps to move past the fear.'

"I… maybe," I glanced up at Dennis. "I'll… I'll think about it."

Dennis smiled. "Great! We, uh, we sit by the back corner, near the double doors that lead outside. It's only the five of us most of the time; not everyone can handle Vicky, so we should be easy to spot."

"OK." Not everyone can handle Vicky? Who was Vicky? What was I getting myself into? Those words alone were making me reconsider.

Dennis nodded. "All right, I'll uh…" he trailed off, stopping to think.

"… I was going to say, see you then, but… we're in the middle of class right now, sitting across from each other… so…"

A bit of a smile threatened to break out on my face, as Dennis slowly leaned away with a short wave, eyes darting around, before partially disappearing back behind his computer, as I could still see his shoulder.

… I was worried. It had been so long since I'd had anything resembling, 'friends,' that the closest thing I'd think of were the kids that sat next to me in class, sometimes asking me a question, or working together on a project.

So… this whole thing was just… I didn't want to be alone.

That was the truth of the matter, even with the specter of Coil, my power, Winslow, my possible death, all hanging over me, the worse part about it was that I was alone.

Emma and Sophia had worked hard to ostracize me from everyone else at Winslow, which was just as debilitating as the bullying. Bet now? They weren't around anymore, and I… I had a ghost of a chance to be normal.

I wanted to do this, I needed to do this. Even if it didn't work out, and if I discovered that Dennis and his friends didn't click with me, it was a start. It meant that I wasn't fundamentally broken after Winslow and the Locker. I could and would be able to make friends, people that I could trust.

The journey of a thousand miles…

Now I just hoped that it wasn't a mistake.

This was a mistake.

I stood just outside the double doors of the cafeteria, eyeing the sea of students inside.

The cafeteria at Arcadia was different than Winslow. Similar, in the way that all school cafeterias were, but unlike Winslow, there was more than just a set of doors heading either into the school or out into the yard.

And it was clean.

No gang tags, no defaced walls, no old broken cameras hanging limply off their mounts, yet the bustle of teens was all the same. It was jarring really, to see something so familiar, yet different.

I advanced slowly, stepping aside for a few students to exit as I entered. It wasn't quite the same wall of sound that Winslow had, but it hit me all the same.

Swiveling my head, I checked both sides of the room to try and spot Dennis. The back corner by the exit he'd said, but of both sides, I didn't see him in either.

Ah well, time to head bac….

"Hey."

I didn't jump and nearly hit someone with my bag while spinning around, and Dennis didn't place his hand on my shoulder afterward either.

"You OK?" he asks, concern flickering in his blue eyes.

"Fine." Not really, but I needed to be. Just how I needed to be wary about somethings out of habit.

Dennis eye me warily for a moment as he (finally) released my shoulder. "… If you aren't comfortable with this, I'll understand. I did kinda just throw this at you, and we… don't exactly know each other. But that's how everyone meets really."

"No, I'm…" what to say? Apprehensive about meeting new people after I (inadvertently) blew up Winslow when I got shoved into a locker filled with human waste? A situation that my (former) best friend caused to happen through her betrayal and subsequent bullying of two years?

"… Fine, it's just… never mind."

Dennis didn't seem convinced, but he gestured for me to follow him anyway. And I followed, because he was right, you don't know someone the first time you meet them, same goes for the next time, and the next. Only by continuing to talk and meet then would you get to know them.

I just hoped that Dennis wasn't the type to betray the limited trust I was giving him, as while I was nervous about this happening, I couldn't think of a better way to get out from under the shadow of Winslow.

Dennis led me to a large round table, populated by a small group of teens.

"Hey Dennis," called a redhead as we approached. "I see you found her." The girl tilted her head to the side, her long hair shifting as she smiled softly.

"She is cute."

Instantly I felt my face heat up, and from the corner of my eye, I saw Dennis's do the same.

… this was a mistake.

The girl laughed. "Finally got you back Dennis; payback, for last month."

She was nudged in the side by the good-looking blond next to her.

"You got else someone as collateral there, Tory." Then he turned to face me.

"Sorry about that, these two have something of a rivalry going on. I'm Dean, and you must be Taylor… Dennis has, mentioned, you once or twice."

Dean was one of those handsome types, a strong chin, nice eyes, blond hair, solid shoulders, and a good smile. The collared shirt was fit enough to show that he had a good frame.

The girl, Tory, was a redhead with long hair and a heart-shaped face. She was pretty in a way that instantly made me think of Emma, yet the soft smile was different from hers, as was how she sat. Prim, proper, those would be the words I would use.

Though the long sleeve and turtleneck were strange.

One of the other two girls at the table huffed with a smile. "More than that, but pay those two no mind, they have a whole prank-war thing going on that no one wants to get involved in."

The speaker was a platinum blonde, tall, with the type of body and curves that looked like she could be walking down a runway as-is and no one would question it.

And no, I wasn't jealous.

The last girl sat to the side of the blond, across from Tory. I recognized the mousy girl with the frizzy brown hair, I sat in front of her in one of my classes. She gave me a bit of a curious glance, before going back to her book.

"Less of a war and more of a competition," Dennis managed to get out.

The blond girl snorted. "I've heard the stories from Dean, didn't you both get grounded for like, two weeks, just a month ago?"

"It was only one week," Tory countered. "For me."

Dennis grumbled as Tory half rose out of her seat, extending a hand in my direction.

"Sorry about that, couldn't resist. Victoria Burnwood, but call me Tory."

Her grip was solid and strong, and she had calluses on the tips of her fingers. Not too dissimilar to the ones that I had at one point from playing the flute.

"Taylor Hebert."

She nodded. "A pleasure. You already know Dennis, but the man to my right is Dean, the girl across from him is his girlfriend Victoria, and her sister, Amy."

I glanced between the girl in front of me, and back to the blond one. Tory smiled.

"Vicky and Tory, respectively. Please, take a seat. I don't know what you experienced at Winslow, and I've heard a lot about that place, but you won't find it here."

For a moment, I really considered not taking a seat. They seemed fine, and aside from their opening… though really, what did I have to lose at this point?

"I won't sit next to Vicky," Dennis said quickly, as he placed a hand on my upper arm to stop me from sitting next to said girl. "She can get a bit… rowdy."

Beside her, her sister snorted. "Understatement of the year."

"Hey! I'm not that bad! Right Dean?"

The blond boy clearly hesitated. "Well, you do have your moments Vicky."

While the pair spoke, Tory patted the chair beside her.

"Here, at least I won't hit you in the face when I get too excited about something."

"That happened once!"

"Still had blood coming out of my nose," Dennis muttered as he settled down beside Amy, who barely budged, engrossed as she was in reading.

I sat down myself, giving Tory a "Thanks," as I did so. I felt awkward, but none of the other people at the table seemed to be. It had been so long since I had made friends, was this how it worked? I just, show up? Even though I had little to connect me to everyone else?

I found myself gripping my bag tight under the table. It was something of a non-risk now, bringing a few of my mother's journals to school. But ingrained instincts told me that they would get damaged, so I had kept the bag close to me all day.

The Trio had been sharp-eyed on getting my things or making sure that no one would come near me (mostly Sophia, but Emma had been quick to do things as well). So I felt… safe, to bring them to school.

Plus, it had given me something to read during lunch. At least, before I had gotten invited to this table.

If Vicky took any offense to Dennis' previous comment, she clearly didn't show it. Still wearing the smile, she turned to me and grinned.

"So," she began ominously, and I suddenly had visions of her asking me about Winslow, about the ice-tree, and about what I knew about it all.

More than once I had overheard someone asking a student about it, and so far, I had managed to avoid getting asked myself.

"… what do you think of our school so far?"

I breathed a silent sigh of relief.

"It's… different," was what I managed to reply with.

"I bet,' Vicky snorted, unfazed. "I heard one that they had to divide the classes by gang affiliation, or hey, did a teacher really get stabbed there?"

I was taken aback; Winslow was bad sure, but a teacher getting stabbed?

"Uh, no, I've never heard of that happening," I admitted. "Maybe one getting hurt breaking up a fight? But nothing like that."

Vicky hummed. "Guess it does sound kinda ridiculous," she admitted. "So what about-"

"Please don't interrogate her Vicky," Dean interrupted. "She just got here and might not appreciate it. Besides, we've all heard enough about Winslow over the last few days."

The blond crossed her arms and pouted. "But we haven't heard what we all want to know about! Aren't you curious Dean?"

"No more than the next person here."

"And considering that I am the one sitting next to him, that's says a lot," added Tory.

"Leave it alone Vicky," her sister, Amy added, eyes still on her book. "People have already told you about the NDA's, plus I don't think that it was something that most people would want to be reminded of."

"… Fine," Vicky sighed. "I guess you're right, Ames." She turned to me and smiled apologetically.

"Sorry, it's just… normally something like Winslow is all over PHO and the News, but the PRT was really good at glossing things over. Makes you wonder what really happened there."

I nodded, unsure of what to say; I had my own kind of NDA to keep in mind. Despite the problems I had with the organization, at least the PRT was capable of doing its job right when it was in their best interests.

"But hey!" Vicky perked up. "At least now we finally have someone that we can ask about all those stories about Winslow; really get a personal take on the school."

"Like the one about the drug lab in the basement," Vicky ticked off. "How there was a pregnant girl in every class, or that some of the teachers doubled as drug dealers during the night. Oh, hey Taylor, how many of the guys there had E88 tats on their faces?"

"Vicky!"

"What?!"

Amy rolled her eyes for a moment and muttered something under her breath. Something that Vicky managed to hear, causing her to poke her sister in the side with her fingers.

"Oh, like you're one to talk! You introvert."

"Such a big word for out resident blond," Dennis said dryly as Amy shied away from the girl. "She's really learning things here."

"Is that a dig at blonds Dennis?" Tory asked slowly. "Seems simple for you."

Dennis shrugged. "Hey, the classics have their place."

"But by the rules of that stereotype," Troy said dryly. "Then you and me have no souls, and are wild in bed."

Dean sighed and placed his head into his hands and groaned as Vicky roared with laughter. "Why do I even sit with you guys?"

"I ask myself the same question every day," quipped Amy from the other side of the table, unfazed by all that was happening around her. Beside her, Dennis had closed his eyes and was seeming fighting back a blush.

"Well, I kinda walked into that one," he admitted. "Well played Tory, well played."

"You've giving Taylor a wonderful impression of us right now," Dean added through his hands. "Really. I'm actually surprised that she hasn't left yet."

That thought actually hadn't even crossed my mind; I was far too used to avoiding attention to do much more than just sit and watch what was happening (and standing up would have turned their attention to me as well). Plus there was the novelty of it, it was… nice, to be sitting in a group that wasn't either ignoring me or laughing at me.

"At least we stopped talking about Winslow and all the horror stories we've heard about it!" Vicky said while laughing. "Instead talking about redheads and their 'unearthly powers.'"

"Those might be based on facts," I found myself saying.

Tory turned and raised an eyebrow at me. As did the rest of the table.

"Winslow," I said quickly as I felt my face erupt. "I mean… I don't know the stories you've heard, but… I'm gonna stop talking now." And hope for the earth to open up and swallow me whole.

God, what was wrong with me? I didn't even mean to say anything! It kind of just… spilled out.

They were all so comfortable with each other, talking about this and that, it wasn't like I had up and joined some random group of people that were tolerating me. Granted, it wasn't like they were pulling me into the conversation very much either, but still. It was just nice to feel… included, even as an extra.

Now only if I hadn't decided to say the weirdest thing that I possibly could.

Amy sighed dryly. "Great, another one."

"Sorry, I… was thinking about Winslow," I defended. "Not… that." Because really, I had grown up with a redhead, I had heard of a few of those things before; so it was a multi-sided ball of awkward for me.

"It's fine," Tory waved off my aborted attempt at talking with a chuckle. "Other than Brockton, I haven't spent more than two years in one city yet. I had to move around a lot, so I know what it is like to be the new kid at school; you don't know anyone, you don't know your way around, everyone seems to know each other and acts like they've all known each other for years…"

The girl sighed. "It is normal to feel like you're the outsider to someplace new and that you don't belong because everyone just acts normal, and you don't know what that quite is yet. But take it from a professional." Tory smiled. "No one is normal, we're all a little mad; the trick is to find people just as mad as you are to hang out with, then you'll be normal, just like everyone else."

We all stared at Tory for several seconds, before Dennis started to slowly clap.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," he began. "Victoria Burnwood, living philosophy book."

Tory preened. "Thanks! I've had some time to think about it, and I'm happy that it didn't sound pretentious."

"But seriously," Tory said while turning back to me. "None of us here are going to bite you, though if you politely ask Dean to, you'll get to watch him sputter around for a few minutes while Vicky tries, and fails, to look jealous."

"What do you mean, 'fails?'" Vicky asked.

"We all know that Dean would never do anything stupid like that," stated Tory. "So really, it mostly comes down to you wanting to stake your claim, but holding off because you enjoy the reactions of the other girls when you slide up and kiss him while they're flirting with him."

"Well can you blame me?" Vicky asked. "Look at him."

Dean sighed and cast his gaze upward, but he had a bit of a smile on his face.

This all was… different. It had been mostly me and Emma for so long, with us both dragging each other to meet other friends sure, but we had been… close.

Here? It almost hurt watching them all talk, because I could see me and Emma here; well, mostly Emma, but I would have stuck around even if she had left.

Part of me wanted to join in, to talk about something, to be a part of the group rather than just going with the flow.

I didn't want to start off by talking about schoolwork, nor by just asking everyone to talk about themselves for me (as then that could lead to questions about me, questions that I probably wasn't ready for yet).

Lucky, I had spotted something that could use to get the ball rolling.

However, Vicky noted where I was looking and misinterpreted. She jammed her elbow into her sister, knocking her aside as she hissed at her.

"Ames! You're being rude!"

Amy jerked and stared at her sister, eyes wide. "What?"

I hurried to interject between the two sisters. "No, it's… have you gotten to ART yet?" I ask Amy in a hurry.

Amy turned to look at me, eyes questioning. "Uh, yeah. He just dropped him off at the transit ring."

I nodded. "Yeah, meeting the group to get down to the surface, right?"

Amy's gaze turned more towards the interested spectrum. "You've read it?"

"Yeah," I replied. "Not my normal type of book but… the publisher tends make good recommendations in the back of their books."

"Considering they're practically the biggest publisher in the world, it's to be expected."

Lost Souls Publishers started out in the early 1900s, they made a name for themselves by taking practically every story that crossed their desks and publishing them in books that contained a few thousand-word snippets. Form there they expanded, making full-length books out of the ones that people wanted more of, or releasing another set of books that contained the next part of a previous story.

By the '40s, even with World War Two raging, they continued their practice of releasing books by the dozens, each containing several stories, all at cheap prices. Many of their stories were credited towards helping stabilize the economy during the Crash, at least up until WWII kicked everything into high gear.

Come the 90's Lost Souls has changed their name to Lost Souls Inc. and was all but a (hidden and unknown) household name, having printed everything from easy cookbooks for people just moving out on their own, to bestsellers, and everything in between, all while still releasing those books that held several, sometimes totally different, stories within them.

They even teamed up with big-name authors and other publishers, like R.A. Stine, Dean Koontz, and others, to make books containing a set of short stories from them.

The end result was that people knew about Lost Souls, even if they never really knew of them, kind like city workers; people knew that it was someone's job to fix potholes and repair power lines, but you less you bothered to look into things, you never really would realize how big they were as an organization and how much they really did.

My mother was the one who got me started with the publishers' books; she gifted me a few of her old books from her teenage years, some of which had become full-fledged novels by the time I had gotten around to reading them.

"Any favorites from them?" I ask.

"Ames here liked the one about people eating each other," Vicky interrupted. "Not my thing, but I liked the fight scenes."

"Vicky! I told you before, that's not what it's about!"

Vicky just rolled her eyes and wave it off. "Yeah yeah, some kid gets hurt in an accident, gets the wrong body parts stuffed into him and now he's a cannibal. Seriously Amy, it's weird, and I really don't know why you liked it. They were the bad guys."

"That wasn't what it was about! They were still- oh why do I even bother." Amy shook her head, turned away from her sister, and back to me. "Did you read the one that started The Way of the Shadows? Not many liked the short stories that it came with, but I'm still holding out hope for that one with the samurai that fell into the distant future. That one had promise."

I had to think about it for a second. "Maybe? It was my mom that got me started in Lost Souls publishing, she had some of the old books that were made when she was a kid, like the ones from the '90s. It sounds familiar…"

"Question!" Tory yelped by shooting her hand up into the air. "If you've read some of the old ones Taylor… then Alucard or the Count?"

Like before, it took me a moment to recall what she was talking about. But the first name was the clue that helped jog my memory.

"I wasn't a fan of how over the top they got in Hellsing," I conceded. "The plot with Trevor and the other Alucard was far better."

Tory narrowed her eyes at me while cocking her head to the side.

"… Sorry Dennis," Tory said aloud after a few moments. "But I'm keeping this one. Should have grabbed her when you had the chance."

Dennis laughed sheepishly and I had to avert my eyes to avoid seeing his blush.

"Ah, figures," Vicky sighed. "Another one that likes the monsters."

"They weren't monsters," Tory defended. "They were people that got dealt the worst hand life could offer. True, some happily traveled down the path of the monster, both the main characters were the ones that were doing their best to ink out a life as best as they could."

"Being a monster is not your appearance, nor what others think of you," I quote, drawing the eyes of everyone at the table. "It is all just a matter of semantics. Someone could call themselves a hero and still walk around killing dozens. Someone else could be labeled a villain for trying to stop them. Plenty of humans are monstrous, and plenty of monsters know how to play at being human. It is all in the actions that you do, and how those actions are viewed by the world, what you do, that defines you. When you decide that you yourself are a monster, that is when you truly become one*."

The whole table was staring at me, and I ducked my head reflexively.

"Sorry, it was one of my mothers' quotes. She got it from a book." I frowned. One that I hadn't read yet, as I couldn't place where it was from.

"It sounds nice," Vicky started. "But it also sounds like it contradicts itself. If you don't decide that you are a monster, but do what others view as monstrous things, that doesn't make you a monster?"

"It's a mind puzzle," I supplied without thinking. "Like the saying, 'If a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?' It's two different things mixed into one, a contradiction, but something that means something that is for the person to figure out."

"It's how the world isn't black and white, but shades of grey," Dean cut in. "Frankenstein's monster was considered a monster for example, but solely because of what he looked like, he never acted the part. It was the world that turned him into a monster, driving him to everything he did. In the end, he became a monster, just like everyone thought he was."

For several seconds, the table was silent.

"… I thought the monster was Frankenstein," stated Vicky, much to the dismay of her sister.

"That was the name of the man who made him," Amy clarified. "He never really gets a name, so people thought of him as Frankenstein's monster, then it later got shifted to just Frankenstein."

Vicky 'huh'-ed at my words. "Never knew that."

"Mom loved those types of books," I said softly, drawing the eyes of the table again. "She said they made you think, rather than just told you what to think."

"She sounded liked a wise woman," Tory said. Her tone carried something more than just what her words meant.

"Yeah, she was."

A/N: Edit: so an old A/N still was up on here (one from a bit back when I was checking things over to get things straighten up on FFs site). I've removed it as its no longer valid (even if it was accurate at the time of typing) and updated this one (like I had done before I posted this chap in the first place, but somehow it got over to SB, but not here).

Ok, so… long story short, life happened to both me and my beta, and I continued to plop away at this story building up a buffer, working out the plot…

Which requires a bit of background. You see, with how I have it set up, the moment the Warframe part of this kicks into gear, everything with revolve around them (for the most part) so I needed to work out the Worm side of things before that happened.

Makes sense considering its rather obvious that I'm going for the mystery route on the Warframe side of things, downside however?

I have a lot on the Worm side of things to do if I wanted to address people and plots (like Coil and Lung, the Undersiders, etc.) before they become irrelevant, which was compounded by how I wanted the Warframe parts to play out later on via basing them upon those Plot points…

So now this arc has eleven chapters total.

Considering that I had planned for most arcs to be more like Pain Threshold and Rolling Guard in length (aka five to eight at most)…

Well, I've decided just to roll with it, hopefully this isn't a thing that each arc just gets long and longer as this story goes on (it shouldn't after this everything starts to get pretty straightforward as a lot of the Worm background foundations have been set, its just a matter of wrapping them up along the way to the Warframe plot).

Also, updates will happen once a week, with breaks happening in-between the arcs to allow me to maintain my buffer (I kinda want to just drop this chapters over a course of a few days, but as my beta pointed out that would mean you'd all have to go without for a untold amount of time so…).

But anyway, now that that's done, a pair of small notes:

*Nods to Canon Taylor with drink: Here's to you Kiddo, for all the things you did, you never once really became the Monster… then again, you never were the Hero either.

(On the other hand, that is debatable, given that Khepri existed…)

I also started up a Ko-fi (something I'm on the fence about considering the current world climate), and will use it to mark out extra side stories that I haven't already thought of and marked out as Plot-Critical yet.

Feel free to check it out, or don't, your choice.

(As FF doesn't allow links, you'll just have to search for my name on Ko-fi.)

The Watchers Network

Edit: did some rearranging of the chaps, things should be more in order now.