A/N: Hi everyone! This will be the last of the backstory for a bit. Hope you enjoy this next chapter!

-sousatayue

NOW…

10 SETTEMBRE 2000, 23:14

MILANO, ITALIA

BAR RUSTICO

"There they are," Sergio hissed, cornering the thieves around the back of the establishment. He'd witnessed two men stealing the Stone Mask from its place on the wall and exited the bar to chase after them, much to the surprise of a few bewildered patrons.

The barista approached the delinquents, hands on his hips. "Excuse me, gentlemen. That mask is the property of this establishment. Hand it over."

One of them smirked, grip tightening on the wall decoration. "Not gonna happen, kid." Both of them looked to be in their mid-30s.

I'm 24. I'm definitely not a kid. Sergio grabbed a nearby weapon from the bouncers' closet, eyes hard. "Your mistake, stronzo."

Sergio De Rosa hailed from Tuscany, Italy, more specifically the town of Apuania, though he had taken up residence in Milan for the past couple of years following the completion of his undergraduate degree. He'd had a ghostly companion who was always there for him, and always had been, for as long as he could remember. Not that anyone would believe him if he told them. His parents had thought he was crazy, even going so far as to send him to a shrink during secondary school because he was "seeing things." This particular session would irrevocably change Sergio's perspective on the world-and on himself.

12 GIUGNO 1991, 14:30

APUANIA, ITALIA

Sergio glowered at the psychiatrist in front of him. "I'm not crazy."

The elderly shrink in question, Dottore Luigi Palazzo, merely blinked. "I never said you were, young man."

The fifteen-year-old groaned. "Everyone else does! Then why am I here? I don't want to be here! I'm just in this stupid office because my parents think I'm some sort of schizoid freak and forced me to come here! They don't understand me, and it's not like they ever tried! I hate them!" His frustration increased. "They can't see him! No one can! He's always been there, and nobody believes me! Everybody at school thinks I'm crazy! Mamma keeps taking me to see a priest because she's super religious and thinks there is some sort of demon possessing me! But there isn't! He's a part of me, I know it!" Sergio bowed his head, sighing exasperatedly. "I wish they would just shut up about it!"

Palazzo didn't berate him, which Sergio hadn't expected. He'd honestly expected the guy to say, "Well, they're your parents. You should probably listen to them."

What he didn't expect him to say was this: "Can you summon him?"

Sergio's eyes widened in surprise. "Y-yeah. I'll try."

The ghost appeared on his own, hazy and humanoid, surrounded by and composed of blue smoke. His white eyes stared unblinkingly at the shrink while smoke reflected on his body like watery lights on a sea wall. His facial structure and lanky physical build were similar to Sergio's, and his long, white hair reached down to his knees. He was shirtless, and instead clad in black, bell-bottom dress pants and a pair of strappy, translucent, 15-cm stiletto heels that would be more appropriately seen at a strip club.

Palazzo nodded approvingly. "He's beautiful."

Sergio's jaw dropped. "You-You can see him." It came out more like a statement with a question mixed in.

This can't be happening.

Palazzo nodded. "Yes. I can. As for the situation with your family and your peers, Sergio, it's not you. It's them."

Sergio swallowed. "I don't follow. Also, how can you see him? Nobody else can; what makes me think that you're not doing this to make a fool out of me?"

"That is a valid question," the psychiatrist conceded, leaning back into his chair. "You see, I happen to have a ghost of my own as well." A strange light shone around him right after, and something materialised beside him.

"This is my inner strength," Palazzo continued. "Just as this 'ghost' beside you is your own."

Sergio took a closer look at the thing that had materialised by the shrink, raising a dubious eyebrow. "Your inner strength...is a six-eyed yak."

The shaggy ghost-beast was silvery in colour, and all six of his(?) eyes were trained on the other spirit in the room.

"To each his own," Palazzo said, grinning. That smile faded, replaced with a serious look. "I've had several other patients like you over the years, Sergio. Like us. This is a gift that is a part of you. This does not automatically mark you as schizoid or clinically insane. Not everyone can see it, and that's okay. This 'ghost' of yours is an echo of your own soul."

Sergio blinked. "And this is normal? So why can't everybody see them?"

"Only those who have this gift can see them. As for normalcy, that depends on the individual person. There's no singular, arbitrary definition of what normal is per se. It varies between cultures and societies, and between and within groups. What could be normal for some people, and some cultures, might be seen as taboo for others. People tend to be especially afraid of the unknown, and they view it as threatening because this new revelation goes against their own cognitive schemas and their own perceptions of reality. Some people are just set in their ways and closed-minded, hence your justifiable anger towards your parents."

Sergio closed his eyes, feeling tears travel silently down his face. Finally. Somebody who doesn't think I'm a freak. "I just want them to understand me for who I am," he whispered, voice breaking. "And I don't know if they ever will."

"Perhaps not," Palazzo said after a moment. "But there's no harm in trying."

Sergio wiped the tears from his face. "You said there were others like me?"

Palazzo nodded. "Yes. There is far, far more to this world than you or I can possibly hope to comprehend. Chances are you'll find these people sometime or another. I don't understand this fully, myself, but for some reason people with our gifts are drawn to each other by the gravity of our souls. Or at least, that's the conclusion I've come to. Our inner strength is unique to us as individuals. Be yourself. Accept him. If I were you, I'd start by naming your ghost once this session is over." The psychiatrist gestured to the ghostly six-eyed yak beside him. "For example, I named mine Space Oddity."

The rest of the session went by pretty quickly after that. Sergio's ghost had dismissed himself, but Space Oddity was present for the remainder of the appointment. They'd talked about the test results from the pre-screening cognitive exam, finding that, other than severe loneliness, Sergio had no known mental health issues. Palazzo escorted Sergio out into the waiting room after the session ended, reassuring the De Rosas that their son had no schizophrenic tendencies "upstairs." Sergio ultimately named his inner strength after returning home, embracing the manifestation as a friend.

LATER...

After high school, Sergio attended the University of Florence, where he graduated in 1998 with a BSc in Biochemistry and a minor in Sociology. Ultimately, what he really wanted to do with his degree was to research the effects of alcoholic beverages on the human body and to improve safety in nightclubs. While in university, he developed a passion for antiquities, thanks in part to his junior-year flatmate being an archaeology major. Sergio moved to Milan in September 1998, working the night shift at Bar Rustico full-time and hanging out at the city's nightclubs, most often Club Galassia, learning the tricks of the trade in both areas regarding his degree and hobby. And getting drunk, of course, though most times when he did so Sergio would only limit himself to getting tipsy. He'd felt the most comfortable in alcoholic establishments where dancing was involved. Sometimes he'd collected stuff by questionable means, though he wasn't too worried about getting caught.

But those weren't the only things he'd discovered during his time in Italy's second-largest city.

He'd met others who had their own ghosts, too, just as Dottore Palazzo had promised he would. Alessandra. Legolas. Aida. He wasn't sure whether they knew they had them, or if they knew that he knew about them, but that was something to ask about in the future.

NOW...

10 SETTEMBRE 2000, 23:17

MILANO, ITALIA

BAR RUSTICO

Sergio called upon his inner strength, shouting the name he'd given the ghost in secondary school like it was a battle cry.

"Blue Lamp!"

The spirit materialised, smoky blue light showing Sergio his enemies a lot clearer now. He'd never been in a fight where he'd had to call on the ghost before, so he didn't know what to expect. He only summoned him because he felt more comfortable with a familiar presence in this situation.

Sergio fired at the thieves, hitting true.

They kept going.

Sergio backed up, shotgun at the ready. "What is this, the fucking zombie apocalypse?!" He kept firing, running out of ammo within moments.

Shit.

Blue Lamp took on a more humanoid form, his hazy body going in and out of smoke as he overwhelmed the undead. The spirit's light revealed fangs in both thieves' teeth.

"Not zombies," Sergio deduced, voice going into a deadpan tone. "Vampires. That's just great. Vampires are real."

Blue Lamp's attacks did next to nothing to stop them, and they charged Sergio at an inhuman speed. The bartender took the bullet-less shotgun and smacked it over the head of one of them, while Blue Lamp kicked the other in the knee.

They still kept coming.

A high-pitched screech sounded behind the vampires. Blue Lamp took it upon himself to act as a smokescreen auditory barrier, distributing the sound without causing Sergio any major hearing damage. His eyes widened, seeing Alessandra and her ghost birds—all seventeen of them.

"What the hell is going on?" the ginger asked, a confused look on her face. "I heard gunshots."

Sergio felt sweat traveling down his face. I have to keep these guys away from her. "Alessandra! Grab the Stone Mask and run! These guys are vampires!"

Alessandra started. "Vampires? They exist?"

"Apparently!"

The ginger groaned. "Tell your stripper friend to haul ass as well, 'cause I'm not leaving without either one of you."

Sergio started. "Y-you can see him?!"

"Obviously! Now come on, dumbass, before I change my mind!"

Holy shit. She can see my Blue Lamp.

The spirit transformed back into smoke, snaking through the vampires as Sergio muscled his way towards his coworker. One of Alessandra's birds bit the one in possession of the mask in the testicles, causing him to scream painfully and drop it. Another bird swooped in and grabbed the mask, passing it towards the ginger. Sergio made it through, Blue Lamp in tow.

"Okay," he said, panting. "Let's lose these guys."

Alessandra nodded. They bolted, and the vampires gave chase. Cries of "WRYYYYYY" could be heard from behind them, but Sergio wasn't about to look back.

The baristas eventually made their way onto a nearby trail, crouching in the bushes. Alessandra put the Stone Mask on the ground in front of her, posture comparable to a cat ready to pounce.

"Cover your ears," she warned.

Sergio nodded, sticking his middle fingers into his ears. I don't know what's about to happen, but I'm not about to question it. Blue Lamp activated his auditory barrier again. Alessandra put her palms over her ears, covering the earplugs that were already inside.

The vampires approached.

All seventeen of Alessandra's birds let out a nauseating screech, getting louder and louder by the second. The best way Sergio could describe the sound was that it was like fingernails scraping on chalkboard, but louder and a lot longer in duration. Even with his ears covered, the urge to run away and puke was getting stronger and stronger. He stole a quick glance Alessandra's way, finding a stone-cold look in her eyes. Her teeth were bared into a feral snarl.

How many seconds had passed? Ten? Fifteen?

Sergio looked back at their pursuers, finding that they really weren't doing so well.

Five seconds later, both vampires' heads exploded.

Blood, brains, and gore littered the grass as their bodies collapsed onto the ground. The torturous screeching finally ceased, and Alessandra's birds flickered out of existence.

Sergio forced his fingers out of his ears, vomiting into the bush in front of him. One look in front of him told him that the vampires were totally, utterly, dead. He'd never seen anyone die before-especially not so brutally.

Something told him he didn't want to repeat the experience.

"F-fuck," he whispered, trembling. He glanced over at Alessandra. The ginger had removed her palms from her ears, and she looked pale. A closer look revealed a small tide of crimson running from her nose.

"Alessandra!"

"I'm fine," she said shakily, covering the lower half of her face with her flesh hand. Blood slipped between her fingers, landing on the Stone Mask on the ground in front of her. The device shifted as long spikes shot out the back of it, sharp enough to kill.

Sergio screamed.

Alessandra's eyes were as wide as saucers. "Holy fuck holy fuck holy fuck holy fuck HO. LY. FUCK!"

Sergio gulped, fishing around his pockets frantically for a handkerchief. Fortunately, he was able to find one, and handed it to her. "Use this. Keep pressure on your nose and breathe through your mouth. And keep your face down."

The ginger nodded, accepting his handkerchief. The mask's pincers retracted seconds later, and Sergio gingerly picked it up, surprised to find that the blood had somehow disappeared from it.

This just keeps getting weirder and weirder, doesn't it?

Sergio sat down beside her after a few minutes, smirking mirthlessly. "Remind me never to piss you off."

Alessandra flipped him off with her free hand (which happened to be the metal one), her only verbal response being a tired groan.

"We're gonna have to keep this thing under lock and key from now on," Sergio muttered, referring to the Stone Mask. "It's not safe."

"And here I was, thinking it was just some creepy wall decoration," Alessandra deadpanned, voice nasally.

"I thought so, too," Sergio admitted, eyes narrowing. "How's that nosebleed?"

Alessandra pulled the handkerchief away for a few seconds before re-applying pressure. "It's slowed down considerably. I should be okay in a few minutes."

"That's good to hear."

Alessandra raised an eyebrow. "For a womaniser, you don't seem to be as much of a piece of shit as I thought you were."

Sergio looked at her, bewildered. Okay. I know I can get carried away around people at the club, but I didn't think I was that bad. "Who told you that bullshit?"

"Eleonora."

Sergio groaned. That stronza. "Figures. It had to be one of my exes."

Alessandra gave him a strange look. "You two were a thing?"

"Unfortunately," Sergio muttered. "We dated for a few months during freshman year of uni. Things didn't work out; she didn't like that I felt more like myself on the dance floor. So, I dumped her."

"And she's hated you ever since," Alessandra guessed.

"Yeah, but at least she has the sense to maintain some degree of professionalism at work."

Alessandra adjusted her grip on the handkerchief, re-applying pressure on the nosebleed. "But is it true, though?"

Sergio sighed. "There is some degree of truth to that, yeah. I'm horrible at talking to women, and when I do it's mostly when I'm drunk. Eleonora was my first-and so far, only-girlfriend. The rest were guys." He raised an eyebrow. "What brought this discussion on, anyway?"

Alessandra frowned. "Rafael said you had the hots for me."

Sergio felt his face go red. "That idiot." His mobile rang, and a familiar name popped up on the Caller ID. "Speak of the devil," he muttered, picking up the phone. "Hey, what's up?"

"Dude. Where are you?" Rafael hissed. "I've had to cover up for you and Alessandra for the past twenty minutes!"

Sergio checked his surroundings. "Not too far away. The trail near Via E.A. Mario." He got to his feet, stretching. "We went after the bastards who stole the mask."

"Did you get them?"

"Oh yeah." He glanced over at Alessandra. "Let's just say that they're not going to be going anywhere near us again."

Or anyone else, for that matter.

"That's good, I guess. The mask?"

"We have it," Sergio said darkly. "But it's dangerous."

"What? You're kidding, right?"

"I wish I was."

Rafael sighed. "Damn. Do you need me to come over there?"

Sergio glanced over at Alessandra, eyes narrowing. "That might not be a bad idea, actually. Bring some food and water with you, too, while you're at it."

"Uh, okay. Do I really want to know?"

"Alessandra's hurt. We'll explain once you get here."

"Got it. I'll see you in a bit."

"All right. Ciao." Sergio ended the call, sighing.

"You didn't have to do that," Alessandra muttered.

"Neither did you," Sergio retorted. "What were you even doing back there, anyway?"

"I had to take the trash out."

"That makes sense." Sergio sat back down beside her, running a hand through his curly hair. "Thanks for saving my ass, by the way."

"Don't mention it."

Sergio changed the subject. "So. Those birds of yours. How long have you had them?"

Alessandra shrugged. "Since I was born. I know there's seventeen of them, but they feel more like a single colony entity than anything else." She glanced up at Blue Lamp. "What about him?"

"Same as you, since birth."

The sound of a person running towards them cut off the conversation. Sergio stood, seeing Rafael. He waved the blond over.

The other barista ran to them, biscuits and bottled water in his hands. "I told Lorenzo that something had happened," he said. "He's not mad, just concerned."

"That's a relief," Sergio said. Lorenzo Tarantino was their shift supervisor, and generally an easy-going guy.

Rafael glanced around, shuddering. "Why are there a couple of headless corpses over there? Actually, no, never mind, I don't want to know." He raised an eyebrow upon noticing the crimson-soaked handkerchief. "What happened to you?"

"I pushed myself too far," Alessandra grumbled.

"We were being chased by vampires, and she used birds to make their heads explode," Sergio explained.

Rafael grimaced. "That's nasty." He turned back to Sergio. "So, she's like you? She's Gifted?"

"Yeah."

"I'm right here, you know," Alessandra muttered, annoyed. "And what do you mean, 'Gifted?'"

"Those ghosts within us," Sergio explained. "They're a unique manifestation of one's inner strength, and can only be seen by others with the same ability."

"And your inner strength just happens to be a male stripper?"

"Yeah, basically."

Alessandra scoffed. "As much as I'd like to believe that, there's no such thing as a 'chosen one.' There just isn't."

"That's not what I meant," Sergio backtracked. "No, chosen ones don't exist. Life just doesn't work like that. I know."

"Then what is it that you do mean?"

Sergio racked his brain. Come on. What was it that the shrink with the six-eyed yak said again, all those years ago? "We're just...people," he said carefully. "People with unique talents. It's okay if not everyone is able to see our inner strength. If they can't, that doesn't make them any less of a person. Nor do these abilities make us any more of a person. We're just...us."

Alessandra nodded slowly. "I think I understood most of that."

"It's hard to explain, really," Sergio confessed. "How's your nose?"

Alessandra blinked. "The bleeding pretty much stopped. I don't feel so good, though."

Rafael handed her a biscuit and a bottle of water. "You should eat something."

The ginger took the items gratefully, digging in.

Rafael glanced at Sergio. "How are you holding up?"

Sergio shrugged. "I puked earlier, but I'm doing a bit better now."

Rafael shoved a biscuit and a bottle of water into his arms. "Eat."

Sergio glanced back at Alessandra's carnage, nausea threatening to return. "I don't think I have an appetite."

"That wasn't a request," Rafael retorted. "The least you can do is get your stomach settled."

Sergio groaned. "Fine." He opened the cap for the water bottle, rinsing his mouth out before digging into the biscuit. He finished his snack a few minutes later, glaring at the blond. "Satisfied?"

"Yep."

Sergio turned to Alessandra. "You feeling any better?"

"A little bit," she admitted. "I'm just exhausted. Like I said, I pushed myself way too far." She winced. "I'd never used them to kill before."

By "them" she more than likely meant the birds. "Do you need one of us to carry you?"

Alessandra glared at him. "No." She stood, swaying. A sheepish look came over her face. "Yes."

Sergio ultimately ended up being the one to give her a piggyback ride. Alessandra was a bit heavier than he'd expected for someone who appeared to be a featherweight at first glance-though her metal arm and various toned muscles were probably to blame for some of that. Not that he was complaining; she looked beautiful.

But this was hardly the time or the place to ask her out.

"Thanks for coming through for us," Sergio told Rafael. "But, seriously, did you have to tell her I had a crush on her?"

Rafael shrugged, taking a sip out of his own water bottle. "Let's just get the hell out of here."

Sergio nodded. "Definitely. We can talk about this later."

"Your crush, or the mask?" Rafael teased.

"The mask, idiota!" Sergio rolled his eyes, feeling himself blush. "Sheesh."

They started the trip back to the bar. Rafael gave him a quizzical look. "Why is that thing so dangerous, anyway?"

"It's a death trap," Sergio muttered. "Some of Alessandra's blood got on it and activated a bunch of large spikes. It scared the shit out of me!"

Rafael gave him a curious look. "Did you scream?"

"Yes."

"Like a little girl?" the blond teased.

Sergio groaned. "Fuck you." But the answer was "yes"-not that he'd ever admit it. That response, however, conveyed his answer to the blond anyway.

Please keep your trap shut, Rafael.

Rafael smirked, but otherwise stayed silent. Sergio sighed. "We got lucky. If that had happened while one of us had been wearing it-" He shuddered, not wishing for a gruesome picture to paint itself in his mind. "Well, I'd really hate to see the end results."

The rest of the walk was devoid of conversation.

BLUE LAMP

User: Sergio De Rosa

Stats

I. Destructive Power: C

II. Speed: B

III. Range: B (30m)

IV. Persistence: B

V. Precision: D

VI. Development Potential: D