Chloe pulled her beater of a pick-up truck into the parking lot at Blackwell Academy. Glanced over and groaned as she saw Frank's RV just across from her.

Great, now you're crashing here? Guess this is good a place as any for you to sell weed, but damn, man, don't shit where you eat.

Gently banging her head against the steering wheel, she grumbled aloud. "Makes sense. You're the reason I'm here. Doing this shit today."

God. How did it fucking come to this? My life's hit rock bottom. Not gonna have a life, period, if I don't pay him his money back, but then what? What else I got going on that's so great? Just...just gotta get this shit paid off. Then I swear, I am gone baby. I am soooo gone, Arc-hate-ya Bay!

I just need a fair shake. A chance. Something to come along and fix my crappy, broken mess of a life. Is that such a big thing to ask for, God? That you send me a fucking angel?

There was a weird shift in the air next to her, a sudden sagging in the truck, like extra weight was added, completely out of nowhere.

"Chloe..." a voice husked.

Someone else.

Someone not her, but in the truck with her.

"FUCKSHITAHHWHATTHEHELLADAMNCHRIST!"

Chloe screamed, grabbed the door handle and bailed, spilling out of her truck, and onto the asphalt. Quickly bounding to her feet, and resisting the urge to just run away and never look back, she grabbed the outer door frame and poked her head in.

"What the fucking hell are you doing in my goddamn truck, asshole?! Get out now or I swear I'm going to..."

She stopped short, her ramblings derailing to an abortive halt as realization quickly blossomed.

The hair was shorter, the face gaunt. Eyes dark and sunken, like she hadn't slept in a week. And she was older, about five years or more. But even after all that time, Chloe knew exactly who she was looking at. Call it unthinking instinct.

"M-Max? Max Caulfield?"

The other woman - and yes, holy shit, it totally was her! - turned and gave her the merest wisp of a shy, sleepy smile. Her eyes were glazed over, more looking in Chloe's general direction, as opposed to at her, per se.

"Chloe. Found you. Hi...found you." she whispered.

Chloe hopped back in, slammed the door shut behind her. "Jesus. Max! I should...just...hella kick your ass up and down the block for that trick. And then I should kick it some more for you not...ever. Like, could you have written me once!? Or call, or...or..." She sputtered to a halt, the initial surge of fear and adrenaline burning their way through her system. She was calmer now, but still trembling.

Great...great thanks. Because more stress was just what I needed on this glorious Monday.

Max slumped bonelessly against the passenger-side window. "Tired. Sorry. Tired, Chloe. Had to come, had to...come here. Safe. Need to sleep. Can't sleep someplace not safe. Can't...can't believe I found you. So happy...happy you're here, Chloe."

Chloe tried to harden her heart, tried to remember that this was the woman, her best fucking friend on the whole shitty planet, who just up and let her one day, and never called back. She should be furious, she should kick her out, make her beg and plead for a chance.

But...

Oh Max. Max, look at you. What the hell happened?

"God, you're a wreck. Are you...are you tweaking? Or like...crashed out from tweaking?"

She did kinda have that look about her.

Yeah. Go Team Chloe. Max chooses this moment, of all possible times, to pop back into my life, and now I find out she's a burned out meth head.

Max rolled over, gathered her big coat around her tighter, and muttered. "'m not...not on drugs. You should talk...should talk...makin' me hide in the closet when...what's a...where is? Shit...not here, not here..not now. Later. Not now. So...tired."

Chloe couldn't deal with this.

Correction: she couldn't deal with it right this second.

Damnit! Of course I want to find out what the hell happened. Maybe even help her. After she gives me a hella ton of answers! Hmm...maybe I can wrap this up real quick...

"Max," she asked. "Serious question: Do you have three grand that you could just give me?"

Well hell, it's worth a shot at least, right?

"Yeah...yeah...I'm totes rich. Can't...can't touch my money though. They'll know. Sorry."

With a shake of her head and a slow, laborious roll of her eyes Chloe snorted in disgust.

Paranoid delusions? Check. Yup. Totally an extra from Breaking Bad.

"Fine. Max, as much as I wanna grill you and say things like 'What the shit, why u no call?' I have to take care of some Big Girl stuff. So you just...just sleep it off in here, okay? Don't let anybody touch my truck though, especially Frank. Uh...trust me, you'll know him if you see him."

Max was mostly asleep by this point, half snoring, half talking. "Wha'? 'kay. Have fun...mmmm...with...shakedown. Try to duck, when he pulls out the g-"

And like a light switch being thrown, she passed out.

Chloe locked the doors and marched towards the school. If she walked fast enough, she could probably still grab that asshole Nathan Prescott for their meeting in the bathroom. Lay down her demands. Easy in, easy out.

...cause...cause I'm not gonna take any shit from anyone anymore! Especially not the likes of him! Especially not...

...fuckfuckfuck, I can't believe Max is back! I can't believe Max Caulfield is back, crashing from a drug binge or something, and sleeping in my truck! That is literally the last thing I would have counted on happening today, or any day.

She tried to focus on the heavy business ahead of her, but she couldn't resist one giddy little skip. Just for a second.

Chloe made her way quickly across campus, acutely aware of how much she stood out amongst the other students. The last thing she needed was for one of her old teachers to recognize her, or worse yet, the Step-Dick. It was a risk coming here, but she needed to grab Nathan where he had to keep up at least a modicum of public respectability. Put him on the spot.

It's an easy plan. What could possibly go wrong?

She paused, as she spotted something out of the corner of her eye. Worn, weathered and faded, but still somehow hanging on, was one of the old MISSING posters she'd put up a few months back.

Back when she was still looking for Rachel Amber. Back when she thought the worst, and back when she cared at all what happened to that ungrateful bitch.

She grabbed the poster and viciously ripped it down, crumpling it into a ball, and then shoving it into a nearby trashcan, as she stalked her way towards the school building.

I thought you were dead! Or worse! But it turns out you just ran off, and didn't tell me! Going through 'heavy shit' or whatever. Bitch, I cried for you! Freaked out, lost sleep, spent hours begging people for any information they had, searching this whole damn town and two others next to it. I went into hella debt for you, but you were just running around, probably having fun and laughing at stupid me. Did you even thank me? No...just all...soooorreee, you shouldn't have done that...and...sorry, I can't see you for a while and...whatever! All said over the phone, didn't even have the guts to visit me personally. You ever see me again, and you wanna make it even, just pay me, whore!

Three weeks now, since that out-of-the-blue phone call from Rachel, and Chloe was still furious about it. Maybe even more so, now that she'd had all that time to nurse the wounds, feed the grudge.

Swear I'm gonna kick your fucking ass the next time I see you.

Life sure was strange though. Her new shitty best friend finally emerges and bails on her, and just like that, her old shitty best friend pops back up.

At least there's some kinda. Symmetry? And at least Max...well I don't know what her excuse is, but I...I wanna believe she's got a good one. A valid one. Thinking about that Christmas with her folks a couple years back...brrr! And then...I had that dream...or something? Last year. I swore I dreamed some guy came up and told me Max was in a prison, or...God, it's so weird, I feel like I should remember it better.

She looked up at the clock as she walked into the school. Grinned to herself as she saw Nathan slip into the girls bathroom, just like her note told him to. She'd give him just a minute or two more to stew, and then she'd zip in and hit him hard. A little luck, the pencil dick would be coughing up serious cheddar, and her troubles would be over.

Well, diminished, at any rate.

She took the time to peer down the hallways, make sure that there wasn't anyone else coming. Including and especially David. When she was certain the coast was clear, she walked in, ready to run the show.

She fixed her best 'I don't got no time for your shit, pretty boy' stare on Nathan as he looked up at her from the sink where he'd been leaning over. Then slammed the door behind her and poked her head in the various stalls.

"I hope you checked the perimeter, as my step-ass would say. Now let's talk bidness."

Nathan tried his best bravado. "I got nothing for you."

Happy that all the stalls had been checked, and that it was just the two of them alone, she turned back and closed the distance between them, saying, "Wrong. You got hella cash."

"That's my family, not me." he demured.

"Oh, boo hoo hoo, poor little rich kid."

Not buying any of your excuses, sicko.

"I know you've been pumping drugs 'n shit to kids around here." Chloe accused.

Probably you and Frank are in it together. Kinda fitting, me blackmailing you for cash to pay him back.

Chloe rounded across and over, until she was leaning on the same sink as he was. She started to push her face closer into his, getting into his personal space, trying to assert her dominance over the situation.

"I bet your respectable family would help me out if I went to them."

She hated to make that Plan B. Sean Prescott has a nasty reputation, and he was just as likely to have her bounced out of town as to pay her hush money.

No...Nathan is the weak link. I just gotta squeeze hard enough, until he's almost about to break.

She was close enough to him now, he had to be feeling her breath on his face, as she started to drive her points home.

"Man, I can see the headlines now..."

Nathan twitched. "Leave them out of this bitch."

Oh yeah. I got you. I soooo got you. Now to bring the heat.

She started to push him around, using the physical contact to punctuate her points as she raised her voice. "I can tell everybody that Nathan Prescott is a punk ass who begs like a little girl and talks to himself..."

Then shit turned deadly, in a fraction of a second.

A gun came out of his jacket, leveled at her. Right between the eyes.

"You don't know who the fuck I am, or who you're messing around with!"

And just like that, the fulcrum point shifted. Now Nathan had all the power. And she...

Oh shit! Oh holy shit! Where...

She raised her hands up.

"Where'd you get that?"

He forced her back against the wall, one arm preventing her escape, the other ready to press the pistol against her stomach.

"What are you doing?" she cried out. "C'mon, put that thing down!"

She reached out, trying to hold the gun back, away from her.

He started to lose it. Thumping against the wall, his voice rising and falling in cadence.

"Don't...ever try to tell me what to do! I'm so sick of people trying to control me."

Shitshitshitshitshit! Oh man! Oh...oh God. He's sick! Way worse than I thought. I don't get it! How is he so...fuckfuckfuck. Okay Chloe. Okay, you have to get out of this!

Her heart was jackhammering in her chest. She could feel her life measured in seconds.

She had to make an appeal to what was left of his sanity. That he'd regret it if he took it too far. Seriously, how the hell did he think he would get away shooting her in the fucking bathroom? His family was rich, but not that rich!

"You are gonna get in hella more trouble for this than drugs."

"Nobody would ever miss your punk ass, would they?!" he cried out. The madness in Nathan's eyes told her that she had one chance. One last card to play, before he shot her stone dead.

Suddenly, Max was there. If Chloe didn't know better, she'd swear her friend appeared out of thin air. It stunned her stupid, kept her from reacting. She could hear Nathan try to fire the gun, but nothing happened.

Chloe looked down, saw that Max had jammed her pinky behind the trigger. She grabbed Nathan by the scruff of the neck and slammed him against the wall, right between the bathroom sinks. She lifted one knee up, used her body weight against his spine and kept him pinned down. One hand was wrapped around his shoulder, cupping his mouth. The other...

Chloe wasn't sure, but it looked like some sort of vicious martial arts move, one that hurt him bad. He screamed against Max's hand, and let the gun go. She pulled him back and slammed him against the wall again, leaning up close and hissed savagely into his ear, barely able to hold back the venomous hatred soaking her voice.

"You. Will. Never. Ever! Hurt her." There was a seriously possessive tone in Max's words.

Chloe's hand flew up to her mouth as she witnessed the ferocious, half-insane warrior woman that'd once been her sweet, shy, best friend. It was still hard to tell through the coat, but enough of it fell away now that she could see a huge, killer pistol strapped to her thigh. Not to mention the muscles Chloe could make out through whatever weird uniform Max was wearing. No wonder she was absolutely dominating him right now. Between the moves and her strength, there was no way he could fight her off.

Chloe was finally coming back to her senses. She'd been half a second away from dying, seriously, literally dying, and Max saved her. But now, she was also absolutely convinced that Max was ready to kill Nathan Prescott.

For her.

It was...crazy. And kinda cool...no...epic awesome. Horrific and scary. And hot.

Hella hot.

Wait, what?

Chloe! Get a fucking grip! Shit is getting out of control!

Max pulled out a black metal wallet, flipped it open and shoved a badge into his face. "See this? See it! Tell me what it says, dead man!"

She released his mouth enough for him to stammer. "D...Department of Home...shit! You bitch! I don't know who you are, but there's no way..!"

She covered his mouth again. "That's okay! Don't know who you are either." She tilted her head, as if listening to the air. "Prescott? Nathan? Like Prescott Prescotts? Don't care. See this? I'm a fucking Federal Agent. We can put little bitches like you in a deep dark hole, and no, all your family money isn't gonna save you! Believe me, I know! I seen it happen!"

And then Max's voice took on a cold, steely, emotionless quality. Where before she was rambling and disjointed, she now seem possessed of a singular purpose, as she smoothly withdrew her pistol, and pressed the barrel up underneath Nathan's chin. Cocked the hammer back, drawing the action out to play up the menacing effect, as the sound sharply echoed off the tile.

"I'm only going to say this once, Nathan: I don't care who you are, or what you think you can do to us. This fight? You just lost it. Accept that much. You get to walk away from it alive, this once. Pray...pray you don't fucking run into me again. Ever." Max leaned in and whispered almost intimately into his ear. "I don't give second chances."

Nathan was hyperventilating against Max's hand, whimpering. What his lips couldn't say, his eyes, starting to glisten with tears, practically begged.

Chloe reached down, grabbing the gun Nathan dropped. She didn't want to have to use it on Max. Fun was fun, right? But she looked out of control. If it weren't for the fact that she could see, from her angle, that Max's finger was behind the trigger, keeping the pistol from firing, she'd swear Nathan was about to get his head blown off.

How the hell did she get here? I left her asleep in the truck! She do a rail of meth and run over or something?

Trying to keep her voice steady, Chloe said, "Max! Max, let him go...c'mon. I appreciate the assist but...but we gotta go!"

Max glanced over her shoulder and nodded. Chloe could see it in her eyes, the hard focused light of cold calculation evaporating, as she returned to her previous mode of rambling, "Yeah. Yeahyeahyeah. Gotta...go. Time. Time keeps slipping. Oh wait shit no, don't go yet. Oh shit wait, he ran off and told...security guard? Oh shit wait...wait. Wait wait wait. Got something for this."

She placed Nathan in some sort of complicated headlock, easily resisting his attempts at struggle. In less than fifteen seconds, he passed out.

"He's not dead." Max answered, before Chloe could even ask. "Help me. Stall. We have to put him in. Give us time, make a getaway." She then started to try and do a deadman lift on him. "Chloe...c'mon...!"

She grabbed Nathan's legs, and the two of them quickly dumped him into a girls stall.

Max tilted her head towards her. "What?!"

Chloe held up her hands, "I didn't say anything, Max."

"No...not yet. What? Seriously? Okay, finefinefine, we don't have time to argue. Take...TAKE it..no...no just take the...yes, the fucking cash. No, right, yes, I'LL do it." Chloe watched as Max reached into Nathan's jacket, extracting a fat, fancy wallet. Liberated all the bills from it, and then tossed it back into his lap, before jamming the wad of money in her face.

Chloe didn't have to ask twice. Her eyes bugged out as she started to try and count it all.

"Shit! Yeah! Score!" Chloe called out jubilantly. There must be...like..."

"One thousand, two hundred, fifteen bucks. Yeah. Hide it. Need to leave. Now. Go to your truck."

Max pulled out what looked like a combat knife.

"Uh...M-max? You're not gonna cut on..."

Before Chloe could finish, the other girl closed the stall door, then used the edge of the blade to turn the locking mechanism override plate, barring the door so that it couldn't easily be opened. Depending on how long he was knocked out, chances were likely no one would find him now. Not until he came to.

...hella cool! For a tweaker bitch, you're like a crazy fighter or spy, Shit! Maybe she ran off and became an enforcer like for some cartel. Or...no no. She's a vigilante. Max the Mad, sticking up for her homegirls!

"Gogogogogo." Max hissed at her. "To the truck. Be behind you. Gotta check on a few things. Just go already!"

She didn't have to be told twice, as she dashed out of Blackwell, at least as casually as she could, making sure to hide the gun in the waistband of her pants, and the cash in her beanie before making her escape.

Oh. Wow. God. Yes. Cool. So cool! I got over a third of what I need to pay Frank back, and a badass pistol with Nathan's prints all over it. And maybe we can shake him down for the rest later. Ha ha! Yeah! Yeah that went great!

Her painfully pounding heart had a different opinion. She got lucky. Stupid, shit ass fucking lucky. And if Max hadn't left the truck, she'd just be stupid shit ass dead.

"Weirdest. Fucking day. Ever."

Chloe jumped into her truck, and waited for Max to arrive. Drummed her fingers impatiently. She was getting itchy to bug out, peel and burn rubber. The longer she hung around Black-hell, the more likely she was gonna get busted.

She glanced out the front window, trying to spot Max.

"Chloe..." the other girl breathed out, once again seeming to appear out of thin air.

Crazy spooked, Chloe started to petulantly smash her fists against the steering wheel, and yelped, "Fuck! Fuckfuckfuckfuck stop it! Stop freaking me out, and going all ninja!"

Max blinked, but not like a normal person. First one eye, then the next, like her lids were out of synch. Gave a cracked smile, and murmured, "But...but you like it. It's cool. You think so."

Chloe held her gaze on Max's, felt a giddy rush well up in her stomach, burst up into her throat, and then escape in peals of laughter.

There was the Max she knew. Still in there, still totally...her. Giggling along with her.

"Oh. Shit. Ha. Ha ha, yeaaaah!" Chloe admitted, trying to control her laughing. "Dog, now that I know you're not here to peel my skin off and wear it or some crazy shit, that whole ninja-fu is awesome. Gotta teach me that trick."

She started the truck, and drove away as fast as she could get away with.

Max gave a pout, actually looking like she was hurt. She curled up in her seat, resting her head against the window. "Would...would never hurt you, Chloe. Best friend. You're mine. Best. Missed you. Did you get my letters? No...no they...they wouldn't have. Never believed them in the end. Never believed they would send...shit." Her eyes started to shut. "I'm so tired, Chloe."

"Max, how long have you actually been..."

"Days? Weeks? Dunno. A lot. Something's...wrong. In my brain, Chloe. Pieces slowly coming back, though. Gonna be fucking weird when it finally happens. Like a..." she started to make a high pitched woosh noise, and pantomimed her fist, waving in the air, and drunkenly smashing into her fist. "Be nice, okay? Be nice when I don't remember, okay? 'Cause...cause that was cool. You have to tell me the story, of how cool it was."

Chloe sighed, glanced sideways at her friend. Her crazy, best friend.

Brushing aside a few blue bangs, Chloe asked, "Uh...so just...out of curiosity, Max, why did you follow me into the bathroom? Not that I mind, obviously, but.."

Max murmured sleepily, "Didn't mean to. Not at first. Slept a little, woke up. You were still gone. Wandered over, into the school. You were dead. Shot. Cops were there, taped the place off. Couldn't believe it, totally freaked. Blood everywhere. Eyes were still open, and you had this look...like...you were dead. But no one told you."

Chloe felt a cold lump, hard and chill, sitting in her stomach as she listened.

Max continued, "Mmmm...went back. Had to. Went back, saved you. Just like I did it for him, before. Twice now. Saving Prices. How it started, how it continues. Funny...that. Ha ha ha. No wait, not funny ha ha, just weird."

Chloe nodded once, giving Max a sideways glance. "Uh...huh. Yeah...yeah that's real...funny. How shit happens."

Ooooh...kayyy. Sorry I asked!

She thought it best to leave Max be for the rest of the trip.

It didn't take too long for the two of them to get to her house. Chloe glanced up at her bedroom window, then over to Max, wondering how the hell she was going to sneak the other girl in, just in case Joyce was home; she couldn't quite remember if her mom was working today or not.

Max snapped out of whatever half-slumber she'd drifted into and muttered sleepily, "Shityeahrightnoproblem, I'll sneak up."

She hopped out of the truck and scrambled on the top of it before leaping onto the roof, then in through the bedroom window. It was the sort of thing Chloe always considered trying, but the distances and coordination involved, it freaked her out too much to go through with.

Fuck! Max!

From the bedroom window, Max waved. "Hiyeee!" she called out, sounding half-drunk. "Chloe, I found your room! It's still here, but different!"

Chloe's jaw dropped as she slid out from the truck, gazing up, absolutely dumbstruck.

"H-holy. Shit Max, are you really a ninja?" Chloe called out, while still trying to keep her voice down.

With a childish giggle, Max answered, "Noooo...boys are called ninjas, girls are called kunoichi! C'mon, I neeeeed...to crash."

That...was kind of a non-sequitur.

Chloe ran inside the house, dashed up the stairs to her room, and quickly locked the door behind her, finding Max already spread out over the entire bed, face down, almost like she was trying to hug it. Taking a huge breath of air in her nose, she murmured, "God...yesss...I'm back. Oh God, I'm back. Like a dream, Chloe. Dream come true. I came back home. Back to you. S'all I ever wanted. You and me Che...you and me, the way it was meant to be."

Max reached out with her hand, and Chloe took it, without even thinking. Smiled, despite herself, and carefully sat on the edge of the bed. "You should sleep, Max. Sleep, and then...you can tell me your whole 'what the fuck' story from the past five years."

Max nodded once, her eyelids fully closing. "Feels good, Chloe. Safe. Haven't felt safe like this...been so long."

She immediately began to snore.

Chloe pulled over a milk crate so that she could sit down while she admired...er...studied the girl crashed out on her bed.

Look at her...look at her! This is crazy. Five years down the road, and she busts in, shakes everything up. Heh. She's still cute though. I remember when we had a slumber party, and she was the first to pass out...just like this. Like she's doing, right now.

Chloe glanced over her bedroom, and for a moment, had a flash of how it was back then, before the modern version resolidified. Certainly it was a lot less...

...angry.

She wondered what Max would think of it. Of her. Assuming she could ever be cogent and able to think, you know...like normal people. Would she be shocked? Sad?

I mean, not that I need your approval or that you have any right to judge me. I still don't know yet, if I should be absolutely fucking pissed at you. I still don't know your story. You say you wanted to write, say you couldn't, or...I don't know. Did I hear it right? Did I remember it? Hmmm...maybe it's time to try and get some answers.

Carefully, Chloe leaned over, and began to flip Max over, hoping that she was zonked out enough to not wake up, or at least stir only a bit. It took a good five minutes of on and off nudging, until Max suddenly snorted and slumped onto her back the rest of the way. This caused her large coat to fall open, exposing her uniform.

Chloe started to poke at various parts on the tunic, and muttered. "Weird...feels squishy but...not?" Traced her fingers over the patch on the shoulder, narrowing her eyes. Smirked at the piece strapped to Max's hip.

Man, I may not know guns, but I know what a Desert Eagle looks like. Geezus, what the hell kind of law enforcement agent carries a hand cannon that big around?

She carefully reached into an inner pocket, managing to fish the badge holder out. The curious part of her wanted to keep searching but she couldn't bring herself to do it; it felt too much like she was violating her. Her privacy. Max would tell her whatever she wanted to when she finally woke up, and Chloe had to respect that.

On the other hand...

Chloe flipped open the badge holder and suppressed the urge to whistle low. It was heavy, definitely chunky, high quality metal. If it was a replica or a fake it certainly felt right.

Not that I would know...

The badge itself was expectedly shield shaped, with a crouching eagle at the top. Where she figured it would be gold, it was onyx instead, with silver and red highlights. The top had a bar which read Homeland Security Investigations. A similar bar at the bottom read: S.O.A.P Special Agent.

The holder itself had two parts, and there was a placard on the bottom half, which read:

AGENT NAME: Salinger, Artemis Maxine
DEPARTMENT: Homeland Security
DIVISION: Specials Oversight And Administration Project
BRANCH: Damocles Initiative
CLEARANCE: Exodus-4

Salinger? Artemis? WTF, this isn't even her badge!? What did you do, Max, mug an actual government spook or something and take her identity? Oh...wait. It does says Maxine. Um...maybe she had to change her name or something? Huh. Artemis is kinda cool though...

Noticing the dogtags around Max's neck, Chloe gently fished them up, glancing over the embossed text.

Flashback? What the hell is this, some kind of club nickname? Again, with the same weird Salinger name.

Despite everything Max had done, despite everything Chloe witnessed this morning, Occam's Razor glinted sharply in her mind. What was easier to believe: that Max went nuts and got into crazy, creepy cosplaying and took it way too far, or she was actually a secret government agent?

She walked over to her laptop and flopped down into the chair. A year or two ago, she'd gotten big into torrenting movies, and Justin helped her set up this thing called TOR. Apparently, it would make it really hard for the Feds to track her on the Internet, which was great because what she was about to do, she didn't want them to easily discover. She didn't know how TOR worked, just how to turn it on. A few clicks, and she was online, pulling up her favorite search engine. Then proceeded to type in a few search terms.

SPECIALS SOAP DAMOCLES INITIATIVE

She wasn't all that surprised when the only hits that came up were either Transformers cartoons wikis, detergent ads, Greek literature, role playing groups, and...conspiracy theory sites.

Shit, Max. I really...I kind of wanted to believe. But this story is starting to look more and more like you getting crazy into drugs and then losing your grip on reality.

Still, she clicked on one of the links, just to check it out, for a place called The Order of Cincinnatus. Some sort of clearinghouse site for any number of 'secret government conspiracies', there was even a section completely devoted to this S.O.A.P thing. She checked out part of the rambling introductory FAQ, which was updated over the last year apparently:

"Okay, here's the real history. As we all know, in 1948, Albert Einstein was able to use Enrico Fermi's initial research to create the first artificially produced orichalcum, which the ancient Atlanteans used to power most of their technology. But what most of us don't know is that the Illuminati confiscated the small stockpile he created, and used that in 1952 to form the core of a machine that was supposed to let them completely control reality (see the link on this site for Project Yggdrasil). At first, Yggdrasil worked, and they were able to recreate their own super soldiers...but then the Trilateral Commision got wind of it, and teamed up with the Chinese Tongs and the RAND Corporation, attacked the secret facility where Yggdrasil was stored, and destroyed it. Believe me, none of those guys are sweethearts, but they couldn't allow the Barvarians to get away with such a blatant game changer.

And that was that.

OR SO THEY THOUGHT.

The fools didn't know what they were playing with, and all that messing around created a scar in the fabric of reality. As a result, random glitches in the holographic space/time matrix of the universe occur, and they create people with quantum level abilities to manipulate reality itself, just like the Ancient Atlanteans could. And we all know that the reason Atlantis sank under the waves is because their experiments to mess with the evolution of humankind created too many of these super soldiers, and a civil war broke out.

By the 1960's, the various World Government puppets of some of the most powerful illuminated conspiracies decided to try and take advantage of the situation and capture or recruit as many of these Empowered beings as possible, because it was the Cold War, and that was the sort of shit you did back then. The biggest player right now is, of course, in the United States. It started as a group called, innocuously enough, the "Specials Administration And Oversight Project". After the false flag operation of September 11th, the Shadow Illuminati took over the S.O.A.P. from the Technocracy, and broke it into several branches, the biggest of which is their super-soldier op called "The Damocles Initiative".

There's actually a bunch of these different groups running around. Outside of the US, the biggest players are: The Rising Sun in Japan, which was originally formed to fight off The Grand Leviathan after it was accidentally released in 1958; Task Force Excalibur in the UK, which we've recently confirmed is being secretly run by the actual Merlin from the Arthurian legends; and Krashne Zmei, which folks in the know remember as a remnant of a much larger super-science group back from the old USSR. Also, they're the dicks who accidentally lost the Spear of Destiny around 1982, until it suddenly showed up on a now-censored episode of Antiques Roadshow in 1999.

China used to be a bigger deal, almost big enough to give Japan a run for the money, but after they picked a fight with the Sh'iguth'cthulin in 2009, they more or less lost all of their superpowered assets. Just remember kids: Never get involved in a war with a race that's at least five dimensional quantum gradients higher than your own reality.

There's a few others, like the Prometheus Institute and The Daughters of Hypatia, but they're all minor players, who lucked into picking up two or three Empowereds. But the smaller guys are usually on the ball, and they've been good sources of information for our site...at least until the other Illuminati-backed groups find them and take them over.

Chloe decided she'd seen enough of this crazy shit, and scrolled down through some of the forum postings. The site itself had been around since the mid 90's, so there were a lot of old and leftover posts.

1997:

Man! I knew it! This is how Clinton is going to take over the US and turn it into a dictatorship! Watch out for them super soldiers!

2004:

I told you idiots! Bush and Cheney have been trying to rebuild Yggdrasil since day one! You guys seriously believe the Iraq War is costing us all that money? For real? They're siphoning it off. Because this is how Bush is going to take over the US and turn it into a dictatorship! Everyone knows that if they can return to the original site of the Tower of Ba'hae'val from ancient Babylon, and build it there, it will give them supreme power over the entire universe!

2010:

We prefer to be called The CHILDREN of Hypatia now, fuck you very much!

2011:

Dude, it wasn't The Grand Leviathan that was released in 1958, it was Kaitetsu The Undying! Shit, get your facts right, you look like a bunch of clownshoes morons!

2012:

No Muslim Islamist Superfreaks! This is how Obama is going to take over the US and turn it into a Sharia dictatorship! It's exactly what Saul Alinsky said people were gonna do, as part of the Cloward-Piven strategy!

"Hoo. Lee. Fuuuuuuck."

Chloe had seen enough...

She glanced down at the badge, and then back at Max. Moved to put it back in her coat pocket, so she wouldn't miss it. Then murmured to herself,"This is why I only use the Internet for Facebook and porn. Jesus Christ..."

Still...

While she couldn't just write off everything she saw, it wasn't like there weren't obvious, mundane explanations. Crazy martial arts training? Sure, yeah, you give someone enough years, and they can do amazing things. Same goes for any weird sort of magic trick and ninja shit. Impressive, but all very explainable.

Fuck, I mean it's not like she teleported across the room or shot out fireballs and crap. But wait, didn't she say something about "good luck with your shakedown?" before I left to lean on Nathan? I...no...no shit. I totally must have told her what I was going to do, before I left the truck.

Right?

She reached for a joint, and immediately sparked up. This was far too much loco ju-ju for her to handle sober. All but sucking the whole thing down in two or three massive hits, it didn't take long for her mind to calm, general anxiety dissipating into a warm sense of giddiness.

Of course, now that she was stoned, some of that conspiracy website shit was starting to make sense.

Because...if she spent five years being stuck in some weird government facility, getting poked and prodded at...wouldn't that screw a person up? Like maybe they jammed her with all kinds of drugs, get her addicted to things to try and control her. Or make her more powerful! Whatever power shes supposed to have. Or...

Chloe smacked her forehead. "Shit, I fucking overdid it. Too stoned, this is all starting to make some sort of sense."

She rose up from her seat, then started to pace in an agitated fashion.

Fuckfuckfuck. What am I gonna do, what am I gonna freaking do?

She stopped, then looked back at Max, who had curled back up on her side in the interim. She was smiling radiantly.

Chloe gave a soft sigh, and sat back in her chair, wheeling it over to the foot of the bed, where she could keep a closer vigil on her suddenly-returned friend.

She looks so blissful now. She said she was happy to see me. Like I just made her entire world worthwhile or something. Oh Max. I really should kinda hate you. I've been so screwed over by the world and everyone in it but...here you are. You came back and what do you do in the first hour? Save my life, get me money and a gun...a way, way better one than I stole from Step-Dork. If that doesn't start to make up for...whatever...then I guess I don't know what does.

Chloe made up her mind, right then and there. She rose up, and reached over, tenderly brushing a few locks of hair away from Max's face.

Shit. I missed you. I really missed you. I don't wanna let down my guard, but seeing you here now? I'm probably gonna hella regret this...but I'm helping you, Max. Whatever trouble you're in, I'm gonna help you get through it. Least I can do. Because we're still friends for life. I gotta believe that much.

She just wish she knew exactly what the hell she was signing up for.

A/N: Awwww yeah! It's Double-Shot Saturday! An epic blast of awesome, featuring both the return of Black Swan and the latest chapter of Grande Dame, dropping on you at the same time! Never had a chance to do something like this before, probably never will again, so of course I had to!

So hi Swanketteers. Thanks for waiting so patiently while we caught up a bit. I even managed to write a couple more rough draft chapters during the hiatus. Oh, and you know, a few other things I suppose. :D It's not like our beloved Life is Strange finally ended or anything! Although I must admit, it feels really weird all of the sudden to be writing this series now that we know exactly whats happening, and it's all over and done with. But still...we've got a lot of story ahead of us.

And yay! Corentin IV is back, and awesomely serving awesome advice with epic flair! Which I think the British call "bubble and squeak" for some reason.

Also, I want to take a moment and say once again: Thank you all for your indulgence and patience. I realize that I went heavy into the world and character building...honestly, more than I intended. A lot of folks liked it, but some folks took issue; it's a valid critique. I mean, not that I can do much about it now, and the story is going to be shifting gears as we finally get into a Max and Chloe paradigm, and everything else shifts to the "B-story". Could I have shortened up some of the "five years" pieces? Maybe. Definitely not into one whole chapter, not without compromising quality but...ah well, it's a lesson for the future.

Have an awesome Halloween, everyone! See you next Saturday.