Before I start kick this off, let me state one thing (Oh yeah, it's going to fly off the harsh meter and into Zara's-an-asshole territory):

Whoever first said, "Hey, I think Zara is KAB," is an idiot. I am not. Stop spreading rumors and quit trying to find someone to blame because you can't handle her talking a little trash, people. All she does is throw out mild (yes, I've heard so much worse) insults. Really? Your skins aren't any thicker than her petty-ante attempts at tearing you down to make herself feel better? What's she going to do, pixel you to death? Find the silver lining, people: She's drawing everyone together, at least, if she doesn't amuse you like she does me. Who cares who she really is? She's a bunch of pixels and words, hiding behind a computer screen. Show her the field in which you cultivate your fucks, that she may see that it lies barren, because you're starting to keep her around with your constant complaining at her. Life gets fun when you realize that she's not important to you at all. And, if ignored - or counter-trolled - she'll eventually get bored and leave. If not, you can delete her comments so that they're just not there anymore. Easy, right? She's not that hard to handle. But saying that one person discouraged you and made you quit writing is kind of a cop-out move. You write for you, because you want to see it happen. Not for others. Her words then become hollow in your ears. And don't bother to comment, "Well, that was rude." I got it.

I would apologize for what I said up there if it offends, but I'll don the symbolic cone-of-shame instead as a more meaningful gesture. Better? Consider it a lesson on how to deal with trolls. It'll make you happier. And to the people who have already heard that speech, sorry you had to suffer through it again. :D

Thanks for all the nice reviews. :3

And stuff. Yes; there is stuff. Nice stuff. :3

And no one helped Chase and Douglas. :O So guess who's still stumped?

Chase and Douglas.

For those of you who don't feel like reading back, here was the key from last chapter:

"What begins eternity, and ends time and space? What starts every end, and ends every race?"

Poor guys need all the help they can get. :P

So, enough blathering from me: Who here's ready for some Hybrid? Anyone feel like getting us rolling? Miss Bree?

"Lab Rats and anything you recognize doesn't belong to Zara. If you don't recognize it, it's probably hers."

"The world is full of people who will help you manufacture tornadoes in order to blow out a match."

Shaun Hick

"You suck! Suck…. That's what you do…."

Unknown

Chapter 4 – Plans and Discoveries

Chase

"What about 'time'?"

I lifted my head up from the table – I was banging it repeatedly with frustration – and sighed heavily, eyeing Douglas. "Why would the answer be time? Time doesn't end space." I paused. "Besides, it mentions time. It wouldn't be that easy."

Douglas went silent for several seconds before pushing the paper he was staring at away from himself and rubbing his eyes. "Damn it," he hissed. "What are we missing? We're geniuses, for christ's sake!" He slammed his palm flat on the table to accent his point.

"Yeah?" I muttered, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "So is Krane."

We fell into a tense silence at that. It was a common conversation we'd been having over the past week while mulling over Krane's stupid-ass key. I was about to return to my self-prescribed face-to-table therapy – maybe if I hit my head hard enough, the answer will magically appear! – but Douglas rested a hand on my shoulder, catching my attention. When I looked at him again, he shook his head slightly. "Don't do that." He smiled halfway. "You might crack the table."

"God forbid," I responded, rolling my eyes. "It sure is a fine table. I'd hate to be the one that broke it."

He chuckled a bit. "Seriously, though: You'll hurt yourself." He squeezed my shoulder before letting go and leaning back in his chair, his arms crossed.

I growled and sat back as well, running my hand down my face with exasperation. What kind of multi-billionaire bionic asshole needed a freaking code? Seriously, who was he afraid of? He could just take out everyone with one of his fireballs! What was he not getting about "all-powerful"?

Well, not quite all-powerful, but still.

"Why is this so hard?" I mumbled into my palm miserably.

Douglas was about to answer when Oly came flying into the room, obviously excited about something. Even her form was shimmering a bit, like she was having trouble keeping it together. Literally. "Lovett!" she declared loudly, landing on the table and scattering some papers in the process. Douglas looked as bewildered as I was as Oly leaned right up into his face. "It's Lovett, Master!"

"Phil Lovett?" Douglas asked, suddenly appearing a bit worried when Oly nodded.

"Who's Phil Lovett?" I asked with a frown. I mean, the loop: I want to be in it, too.

"The master who sent the other imp," Oly snapped, swinging around so that he whip-like tail caught me across the head. "Keep up."

I sullenly rubbed the new welt just above my left ear and glared at Oly as Douglas took over. "I've met Lovett a few times." He frowned. "He's the embodiment of talking to your face and stabbing you in the back. Likes to keep an afrit he calls 'Jasper' around."

I glanced at him, suppressing the shudder at Jasper's name. The guy was a powerhouse. Don't ask me how I knew that; we just know these things. Avoid Jasper: Check. "You know this guy? Seriously? Is there, like, some kind of Summoners' Club or something?"

"No," Douglas quipped defensively. After a second of silence, he continued. "It's a prestigious society that sets up and enforces regulation regarding summoning and – don't laugh! I'm serious."

I was biting my hand, shaking with muffled snickering at the pretentious description. I honestly hadn't heard anything so douchebaggy since Tasha joined a "juicing community" for those who liked to create various juices from fruits and vegetables. I mean, have you ever heard of anything so incredibly smug?

Oh, you look great!

Thanks; I'm juicing now.

In a bout of jealousy at my ability to ignore Douglas' order when Oly would've been forced into silence, she swung her tail at me again. However, I was ready this time. I caught her tail and pulled, swinging her in a few circles over my head before letting go. It was so satisfying to see her fly across the room, screeching her outrage until she crashed into the wall and collapsed in a heap on the floor.

Finish her! Show her that she made a mistake when she targeted you!

Shut up, I thought harshly.

"Don't hurt her," Douglas warned. "She has information."

"All right," I conceded. He would never admit it out loud, but Douglas had a certain fondness for Oly and Yahn. They were the first demons he summoned, after all.

As Oly picked herself up – growling at me and dusting off her bat-like wings – Douglas turned his attention to her. "Where's Yahn?"

"Sitting on the spy," she answered, clapping her beak together with distaste. "The tall, idiotic kid keeps leaving out food for us, so Yahn has become a bit fat."

Douglas groaned and rubbed his eyes, looking down. "Damn it, Yahn."

I, meanwhile, grinned at the mental image of an exceedingly fat gargoyle trying to fly with too-small wings.

I feel the need to explain something here: Demons don't need to eat. Well, I did, but I had the whole "half-breed" thing going on. Anyways, anything a demon eats goes straight to its hips. It's amusing to see chubby imps or djinnis just hanging around people in the guise of a cute puppy just to get some food thrown their way.

The fat ones splatter more when you crush them, my voice remarked.

Wasn't it just a delightful little shit? I glanced at Douglas, who had crossed his arms again. "So what do we do about this 'Lovett' guy?"

Strangle him?

If he tried anything, then strangle him, indeed.

"Scout his home," Douglas answered, leaning forward and picking up a pen before ripping a blank corner from one of the papers. As he wrote the address down, he added, "You and Oly."

In the span of two seconds, I went from excited mission mode to asking, "You're not serious?"

Douglas slid the paper to me before standing up and crossing the kitchen. "I am," he answered, opening an overhead cabinet with his back to us.

"But I can do so much more without this whelp," Oly huffed, making a peace sign with her index and middle finger and spitting between them towards me to show her disdain.

I narrowed my eyes at her. "And I'd probably do better without all the dead weight," I responded as I focused on heat. The tip of Oly's tail began to smoke and glow like a burning coal. Biting back a scream of pain, she grabbed her tail and attempted to blow it out while I shot her a shit-eating grin. It was fun to watch her trying to avoid Douglas' notice while doing this. I imagined it was so he wouldn't order us to stop fighting, which she would have to obey. It would effectively kill any counter-attacks.

"You'll do fine together," Douglas said absently. "And you'll definitely want the help, if Jasper is there." He picked up an unlit candle and closed the cabinet, turning around. As Oly rapidly sat on her tail to hide it, I had to bite my cheek to keep from laughing. Talk about lighting a fire under someone's ass! Her expression was priceless: All tight and pale and filled with rage – and anguish – as she glared daggers at me.

Douglas frowned at her. "There's no need to look like that," he said. He patted my back with his free hand. "I have faith in this kid. You'll be fine."

I shot Oly a smugly triumphant look – good god, she looked ready to explode – before I picked up the paper with the address. "What are you going to do while we're gone?" I asked Douglas.

He picked up a pack of matches from the counter, smiling at me. "If Yahn is busy sitting on our spy, then I'm going to call in some backup guards." His face grew serious now as he pointed at me. "If you're not back by sunrise, I'm summoning you, too. Both of you," he added, looking at Oly. I was sure that she was biting her tongue as she nodded. "Don't do anything stupid," he went on. "We need to stay under the radar. We can't let Krane catch on to us knowing. And, if something goes wrong, don't fight. Run. Got it?" We nodded. "Good. Stay safe. And good luck." With that, he patted my back again before he exited the room, turning to ascend the stairs.

When Douglas was out of earshot, Oly yelped and jumped straight up into the air about five feet before landing and stomping frantically on her burning tail. I burst out in uncontrollable laughter, covering my mouth with both hands to keep it quiet. It took her a moment to fully extinguish the smoldering tip, which was now a blackened accent against her stony-blue skin. She locked her yellow eyes on me before launching herself across the room, crying out in rage with her claws pointed towards my face. I gasped and jumped up so that she collided with my chest, knocking me over. Well, I had accidently picked a fight. Oops.

Tear off her wings! Shove them down her throat! Show her that she should never attack you!

Oh, hell.

"With no-one wearing their real face, it's a whiteout of emotion…. So will you please show me your real face?"

Poets of the Fall, "War"

"Fear has two meanings: Fuck Everything And Run, or Face Everything And Rise."

Unknown

Bree

She had never enjoyed walking home from school. Despite being able to talk to her brothers, and despite all her complaining about wanting a normal life, she just hated how slow walking was. She could be home in a few seconds. And, at the moment, she hated the stupid conversations her brothers tended to have.

"Think about it," Adam was saying. "Broccoli is like a little tree, so the trees outside the window watching have to be crying because we're eating their babies!"

Leo shot Bree a look before responding. "Then don't eat broccoli. The trees might start a war one day. They're alive, so why wouldn't they find some way to retaliate?"

And here, Leo was supposed to be the intelligent one. Bree rolled her eyes, shrugging her backpack further onto her shoulder as she tuned them out in exchange for looking around. Everything seemed so normal, like the world was trying its best to ignore the three strange teens. It almost seemed unfair. It wasn't like she had asked for insane things to happen around her.

She hadn't exactly asked to run into Adam when he stopped abruptly, either, but that's exactly what happened.

"What the hell?" she asked irritably, smacking Adam on the arm. In front of them, Leo had finally realized that Adam wasn't by his side anymore and had stopped himself, shooting Adam a look over his shoulder.

But Adam was looking at three pigeons on the sidewalk, who were chirping at one another.

In a seemingly angry manner.

And, upon focusing, Bree realized that they were chirping in English. Leo followed their astonished glances until he, too, saw the impossible sight. His jaw literally dropped open.

"You're lost! Ask for directions!" One was saying, gesturing with its wings like they were hands.

"I know where I'm going!" Another snapped, ruffling its feathers indignantly.

"You do not," the third one argued. It looked around and, upon noticing the three gawking teens, pointed at them with one wing. "Ask them!"

"Are you seeing this?!" Leo asked, his voice much higher in pitch and shaking slightly.

Adam nodded, never looking away from the birds. "It's so freaky. Birds don't get lost."

Bree almost hit him again. Leave it to Adam to overlook the birds' speaking for something utterly foolish.

After a heavy sigh, the bird that had claimed to know where it was going hopped towards them. "Look, we're searching for some people. Named something stupid, like 'Davenport' or whatever. Master says that we're supposed to guard them. Do you know where they live?"

Brave, brave Leo, upon hearing this, did the toughest thing Bree had ever seen: He passed out.

So much for the "Enforcer," Bree thought sarcastically.

"Hey, that's us!" Adam answered with a grin before Bree could stop him.

"I told you they'd know!" one of the two in the background said excitedly.

"We're supposed to guard you, then," said the other one.

The one closest to the kids jumped up, flapping its wings and rising just to land on Adam's shoulder. "Then they can take us there. My wings are tired."

Bree swatted the bird off, causing it to squawk indignantly and crash to the ground.

"That was rude," Adam protested.

Bree ignored him, instead focusing on the birds. "What are you?" she spat. "Who's this 'master,' and why are you supposed to guard us? What do you want? And how can you talk?!"

The three exchanged looks that gave Bree the feeling that they thought she was a bit lacking in the intelligence department. Finally, the one that Bree swatted tilted its head at her. "We're imps. Duh." It rolled its eyes and muttered, "Some people just don't appreciate us anymore."

"What's an 'imp'?" asked Adam, who had furrowed his brow in concentration.

"Oh, for the love of –" one of the two farther away groaned. "Demons. We're demons. Don't people know anything anymore?"

"Master sent us to guard you," another reiterated. "So just shut up and accept it. We can't exactly disobey him."

Bree felt herself beginning to shake as she took a step back. Demons weren't real. They couldn't be real. And, if these things were demonic, weren't they evil? Didn't demons hurt people rather than guard? Who would send something like that after them? Bree suddenly felt the need to get the holy hell out of there. "Adam, pick Leo up," she hissed. For once, he didn't question her. His face had gone quite pale at the word "demons." Gently, he scooped Leo up and held the limp teen to his chest, beginning to back away like Bree had. In one last-ditch effort to find who would send freaking demons to "guard" them, she swallowed hard to steady her voice. "Who is this 'master'?"

The birds all concentrated for a moment, conferring amongst themselves to the tune of asking who actually remembered. Finally, one hopped up and down. "I remember!" it chirped happily. "Some guy named 'Douglas.'"

For a split second, Bree thought her heart stopped. Then, without a word, she grabbed Adam's arm and ran. The world around them dissolved into a blur of color and wind before her GPS signaled that they were home mere seconds later. Coming to an instant stop in front of the door, Bree let go of Adam and threw the door open. Tasha and Mr. Davenport, who were standing in the living room for some reason, shot her stunned looks, but she was in the elevator and headed down towards the Lab before they could say anything. She dropped her backpack in the tunnel, not even caring that she would likely be yelled at later as she entered the Lab's main room and proceeded to lock herself in her capsule and sink to the ground, hugging her knees and shaking severely.

Not only did demons exist, but Douglas could order them to do things?

She couldn't remember dealing with a more terrifying situation in her life, aside from Chase missing.

Because, if Douglas could send three demons at once….

She swallowed hard, feeling her pulse speed up and the blood drain from her face. How many others had he already sent?

There you have it, folks. Review. Or don't. Whatever.

Remember to help Douglas and Chase. :P They're having technical difficulties. One literally stormed off of my screen while I was writing this because he was so huffy that he didn't get the key yet. *cough* Douglas. *cough* o_o Who said that?

Remember: Don't expect updates just exceedingly often. :3

And don't spread rumors. It's bad for you. Like...drugs...and stuff...

;)

Enjoy.

*Bows and exits*