No updates from 23rd – 29th Sept. Back on 30th. Due to annual work event.


Cover Art: Kirire

Chapter 70


"-scenes of confusion and humour as the hot new matchmaker app that's all the rage has run into something of a bug, displaying matches among a limited pool of what appear to be related individuals."

"That's right, Jean. The app taking the internet by storm has experienced its first hiccup, coming soon after the global failure of the web. While there is no comment so far from its creators, the two events are almost certainly related. Perhaps a database error of some kind."

"Most noticeable among those highlighted are the infamous actors Jaune Arc and Blake Belladonna, who starred in `Tomorrow's News` earlier this year."

"Infamously bad, more like, Jean," said the make anchor.

They both laughed.

Blake scowled and muted the television because it could further earn her ire. If there was one silver lining from all this, it was that the world was taking it as an error on the app's part and weren't reading too much into it. That didn't mean people hadn't been showing up at the office all day to peek on them, but it had been less than the day before. Small mercies and all that.

"Are we any closer?" she asked Jaune.

"I have no idea," he admitted. "This isn't something we can just say we're close or far from. For all we know this anomaly could be code-based like Coda, though the fact she can't see it at least exonerates her. We're stuck hunting it across the internet, and there's a reason so many criminals use that. It's hard to track people."

"What about the app?"

"It's still using patsies but we're arresting them en masse. Our mole says that the news is spreading, and people are understanding that the free money they'll get from hosting it isn't worth being arrested for. The anomaly hasn't reached out to him yet, but it's only a matter of time."

"And then we strike?"

"I hope so." Jaune ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "This has to be the first time I've ever pushed for the destruction of a non-lethal anomaly."

She could see why that might bother him, but she personally agreed that this one should be removed. People shouldn't learn who their match was like this, and they shouldn't be driven to chaos or despair because someone on the other side of the world was already in a relationship.

If it was being quiet about this and keeping its nose down like Coda and the others, then she'd argue it deserved to be left alone, but it wasn't doing any of that. It was fighting to become Reality Class. It wanted the protection that came of being too much a part of society for ARC Corp to destroy.

And that was kind of terrifying when she thought of it properly.

Reality Class anomalies weren't just things that existed but went ignored. Grimm had changed the entire landscape, annihilating cities and formalising an entire career out of huntsmen and huntresses. The same for Light of the Soul, or aura as it was called. All Becomes Dust hadn't just made a few people wealthy. It had completely destroyed the world's power and energy industries, replacing them all with dust and turning Remnant into the world's worst addict.

They weren't just things that stood out. They changed the world.

If Matchmaker became Reality Class, then she imagined how it might alter the way the world worked. Dating and romance might cease to exist, and people might be forced through almost dystopian "matchmaker events" where they both had to use the app and were then assigned to their "correct match" for marriage. Gone might be the days where you might get to know someone and fall in love because a quick look at an app would dictate whether or not you should bother pursuing such a relationship.

It would be as if a person's blood type should dictate their career, and it reminded her of those old eugenics' theories involving optimal skull shape, and how you could tell if a person was violent or untrustworthy by the shape of their facial features. It was all bullshit, and yet matchmaker would make it a reality.

After all, romance was hard work. Dating was hard work. Life would be more convenient if everyone could just hand the responsibility over to an app and then marry whoever it said. And people loved their conveniences. The same as how they loved cheap energy and didn't want to hear of the costs of it.

"It has to be destroyed," she said. "There really is no other choice. It may not be violent, but it is aggressive. It's attacking us."

"I know." Jaune sighed and closed his laptop. "It just feels like I'm betraying something, but that's me being silly. With any luck, this thing won't even be in Vale. Let it be someone else's responsibility."

Blake sighed. "You've cursed us now."

"Murphy's law is not an anomaly. We've checked—" His scroll went off. "One second."

What followed was a one-sided conversation in which Jaune slumped further and further, his hand coming up to cover his face as Nicholas Arc no doubt spoke with him. Blake waited, hands on her hips, until the call ended.

"It's in Vale, isn't it?"

"I will personally hunt Murphy's Law down and kill it." He stood. "But not quite in Vale. It's on the east coast of Vale – a major trade port between Vale and Mistral."

"Doesn't most trade come through the port in the city?"

"Yes, but there's a railway coming from this place so it's cheaper for smaller businesses in Mistral to ship to this port, then pool for rail fright to take it to Vale." He waved his hand, apparently done with the business lecture. "Point is, it's a decently-sized place. Smaller than Argus, but bigger than your average town. About 15,000 people. Our mole was finally contacted, and we were able to trace the contact as coming from there."

"He could have sent it through another, couldn't he?"

"Absolutely, but we can't ignore this. We've also cut the internet off to that place. Turned off the towers transmitting the signal. They're cut off from the world and our anomaly won't be able to do a thing. We're not taking any chances they might leak more confidential information online if they know we're coming."

/-/

The town of Eastport was more industrial than she expected, with tall, compact buildings of concrete and several warehouses. It was obvious it had started as a warehouse and logistical hub first, because the warehouses by the docks and the railway were larger than some of the apartment blocks. Everything else had slowly sprung up around it.

They touched down and were welcomed in by numerous "ERROR" messages on electronic billboards and timetables. The internet outage was wreaking havoc once more. Jaune and Blake walked through the confused townsfolk in their black suits, both wearing gloves. Their shiny black shoes clicked on the pavement as they made their way through the town and toward their destination. The trace had been specific, and they had an address.

Though there was no guarantee the anomaly would still be there. It might have moved on by now. Or it might have hunkered down and prepared its defences.

"You'll go in first with aura," said Jaune. "Keep me appraised." Blake nodded, unbothered by Jaune sending her in. It was the sensible decision. "Once you have eyes on, let me know and I can enter, but I'll be relying on you to judge whether that is safe."

"Rules of engagement?"

"Keep it quiet but kill them. Limited structural damage if we can help it, since we don't want this exposed."

"Noted."

They came to the building that had been highlighted to them. It was a seemingly neglected home with an overgrown garden and six binbags of trash just dumped outside it. Mail was stuffed into the letterbox, and Jaune peeled one out to get a name. Roger Marble. He photographed it on his scroll and slid it back in, then gestured to the door. Blake approached slowly and tested the handle, ready to pick the lock if needs be.

But it was unlocked. The door creaked slowly inward as she gave it a push, stepping aside in case of a trap. Nothing happened. Not all that much more confident for it, she stepped into the hallway and allowed her faunus eyes a moment to adjust to the gloom. It was a smallish home with a single small living area, a kitchen on the other side, and then a staircase leading upward.

"I'm checking upstairs," she said, and Jaune nodded from the doorway.

The stairs were dusty and unclean, and that told her more than anything that the upstairs area was probably abandoned. The dust was so heavy that she was leaving footprints where no one else had, but there was always the possibility the anomaly was incorporeal or immobile, so a lack of traffic didn't guarantee anything.

On the first floor there were two bedrooms and a single bathroom, and while one bedroom was barren, used solely as storage, the other was decorated. It must have been Roger's. Blake stepped in, noting the numerous little statues of scantily-clad huntress figurines, and the posters of the same on the wall. She recognised Huntress X – a series put out a few years back that romanticised the job and featured a girl fighting legions of Grimm. She'd heard it had quite the following, but life had been a bit too rough in the White Fang for her to be a fan.

She also hadn't realised they did porn versions of that, but she wasn't entirely surprised. Moving past the posters and figurines, she made her way to the desk where a small computer sat. It was coated with dust like everything else, and when she pressed the respective button, it refused to power-up. The power must have been cut, likely due to a lack of paid bills.

"I've found the bedroom," she told Jaune, speaking into the tiny mic on her collar. "No sign of the anomaly or anyone being here recently."

"Any evidence that stands out?"

"A computer without power that might have something on it. There's a scrapbook here as well." Blake flicked it open, expecting random notes or drawings. "Ugh."

"Blake? What is it…?"

"Pictures," she hissed. "Pictures of girls. No. A girl."

Jaune chuckled. "Another porn addict?"

"Not like that, Jaune. These are… They're pictures of a single girl, and she doesn't look to be aware of them." His laughter ended abruptly. "Not underage thankfully, but there are pictures of her in her underwear which I'm fairly sure were taken through a window, and then another few of her just doing things about her home."

"We have a stalker, then. Take photos of them. We'll track her down after and make sure she's safe. Skip to the end. What's the last one?"

Blake did as she was told first taking photos and then skipping to the end of the book. If this was a man who had transformed, as the very human bedroom suggested, then it made sense that the last images might give an idea as to the cause. There were a lot of photos too. Most were tame aside from their illegal nature, of this girl going about her business or walking through town.

Some, where she was smiling brightly, had love hearts drawn around them, and there were notes of things she liked, like the person was building a profile. It made her feel uneasy. Adam, at his worst, had never been this creepy.

Then she reached the final page, and the pages were crusty and stuck-together.

Blake grimaced and peeled them apart, thankful for her gloves.

On the last double-page of the notebook, the photos had taken a turn. The woman in them was naked, and she was having sex – but it was with someone else. The first showed her welcoming a man into the room, the photo again taken from the window, and the following showed them kissing, undressing, and then making love.

There were no love hearts on the page. The man's face had been scribbled out in every picture, and words were written jaggedly around the images. They were not kind. Whore, slut, bitch. They were all like that, derogatory terms for a woman who was probably just making love to her new boyfriend.

Naturally, her obsessed stalker had taken that differently.

Though it hadn't stopped him leaving a darkened splotch across the final image that Blake pulled away from. It was too old to smell of anything, but the simple fact she knew what it was had her drawing away.

"Ugh. This is sick. I've got the photos, Jaune, but for the sake of whoever this is, can we destroy the scrapbook?"

"Negative for now. It could be important. Close it though. If we find and kill the anomaly, I'll let you come back and destroy it. We won't need the evidence then, but it could prove useful in the meantime."

"If nothing else, there might be DNA evidence on here."

"Fingerprints…?"

"Something more liquid…"

Jaune took a moment, and the groaned. "Ugh. I didn't need to know that."

"And I didn't need to have to touch it. I'm burning these gloves if nothing else." Blake closed the book and made for the door. "I'm coming back down and—" There was a sound from under the staircase. An audible bang. "Jaune, did you hear that?"

"I did. Under the stairs. This house isn't supposed to have a basement."

"I'll look for an entrance."

Coming back down, she checked the cupboard on the side of the staircase but found nothing there, then checked the kitchen and living area. There was a rug on the floor under a coffee table. The guy whose house they were in wasn't what one would call a hardened or intelligent criminal, so she decided to try the old cliché and flip the rug up.

"Found it," she said, sighing. "Hatch under the rug like he's straight out of a horror movie."

There were footsteps behind her as Jaune entered. "Let's hope what we see down there isn't the same."

"You think he's dangerous? All he does is matchmake people."

"I'm more worried what he made the basement for, and whether this stalking victim of his might have been… you know…" Jaune didn't continue, and he didn't have to. Blake's stomach was already dropping.

"Wouldn't we have heard of a missing persons case if that were true?" she asked.

"I'm hoping so, and I'm hoping my worst-case scenario is just that." Jaune knelt and tested the hatch. It didn't budge. "It's latched from the inside." He looked around. "This house looks sturdily built. Take a step back. I'll burn this open."

Blake took a few steps away as Jaune removed his right glove and pressed his hand flat, not against the wood, but against the far end from the handle, where the hinges presumably were. A burning hand made one thing of fire, but Jaune's arm burned at a far greater temperature than that, so instead of catching fire the wood blackened and peeled, splintering like charcoal without ever burning. He was able to sink his hand into it slowly, then he grunted, having found something a little harder.

"Got it. Give me a second."

There was a clunking sound and the hatch's top left corner sank down noticeably. Jaune removed his arm and did the same further down, melting that hinge until it was weakened enough for him to snap with his fingers as well. The door swung downward, dangled from its latch, then that snapped as well and the whole thing fell with an almighty crash.

The element of surprise was gone so Blake jumped down feet first and hands in the air, her eyes taking in the wooden ladder and the short drop – about six feet – before she hit the ground in a crouch. The walls were brick, but uneven, and there was a narrow tunnel leading to a door. Blake shouldered it open and burst into a small and half-built basement.

Roger Marble obviously hadn't had time to finish his love-den, basement prison, or whatever he was aiming for, and for that she was grateful. There was no captured woman, nor a skeleton or body or even any manacles to suggest it, but there was a bed, and that alone had her thinking the worst.

That wasn't the only thing in the basement, though.

There was a creature there, too.

It might have been humanoid once, but it was nothing like that now. Its body was long and thin like a centipede, but with a humanoid head plastered atop it. The face was half-and-half. Half male, half female, but split right down the middle with long blonde hair on the left and short black hair on the right. It had far too many arms, making her think of a centipede again. Maybe ten arms in total, five on either side, and then three more on either side that it used as six legs.

Dotted down its chest, like buttons on a shirt, were camera lenses, and two insectoid wings coming out its back flickered slowly, and when they flickered they made the air blur and twist until Blake could see her facer superimposed in the wings on the left, and the fact of her apparent match, the man from Vacuo, in the wings on the right.

"Found it!" she shouted, because the things man-and-woman face had locked onto her, the mouth opening in an angry shriek. Gambol Shroud came up. "Freeze!"

It didn't freeze. It came right at her. Blake squeezed off three shots into its torse before it bowled her over, trapping her in the narrow corridor where she couldn't really move or dodge in any meaningful way. Blake allowed herself to fall on her back, trusting her aura to cover her and also trusting Jaune would take the opportunity she'd presented to angle its body up toward the hatch.

"Evil!" it shrieked. "Evil whore! Worthless woman! You cheated, too!"

Fending off ten arms was a problem, but they couldn't get through her aura. That didn't stop it trying – and Blake gasped and drove a knee up when she felt two of them grasp at her chest. Her tight black suit jacket foiled it from really getting a grip, but there was no denying it had tried.

"Perverted freak!" she hissed.

The hands reached for her again, human fingers grasping. But that was when Jaune landed on its back and drove his flaming arm down into what ought to have been its spine. His burning hand punched through flesh quite a bit less malleable than human, and even burst out its front like a horror movie, Jaune's fingers splayed in front of Blake's face.

"Arghhh!" screamed the anomaly, thrashing off her and knocking Jaune off it as well. It skittered back into the main basement as Jaune offered his good, non-flaming hand to pull her up.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Yes. I knew you'd jump down if I angled its back to you."

He grinned at her. "Good thinking."

"Unfair!" howled the creature. "It's unfair! I'm not hurting anybody! I'm helping!"

"Mr Marble, I presume." Jaune pulled his glove back on. "I'm afraid that while you may have good intentions, you have caused a lot of harm, including deaths among people using your app. We would have been a lot more willing to talk if you hadn't attempted to out us as well."

"And your app isn't helping people," snapped Blake. "It's breaking relationships and driving people to insane acts of jealousy."

The centipede creature reared up. "You're just angry because it's breaking your monopoly!"

Blake pulled a face. "What? What monopoly is that...?"

"You attractive people!" it screeched. "You have the monopoly on dating. It's easy for you! Good-looking, beautiful, handsome." It sneered at Jaune too. "You can date who you want, when you want. You have no idea what it's like to be ugly. You have no idea what it's like to have girls say no to you, and to go with jocks like him."

"Me?" Jaune laughed. "I've never had a girlfriend in my life."

"But she has!" it roared, pointing at Blake. "I can see it all! I can see the past as well as the future!" It cackled, rearing up. "How about I expose that all now? Do you want me to tell him how you abandoned your beloved Adam!?"

Blake shrugged. "You can if you like."

The creature froze. "What…?"

"I don't care," said Blake, pointing her gun at the anomaly. "And I doubt Jaune cares either. He knows I had a past relationship, and it's not like it's any of his business." Beside her, Jaune shrugged his agreement, utterly uncaring. "I dated a man called Adam," she told him. "He was White Fang. It was good at first but we were young and in love, and he started getting more violent so I left him."

"Hm." Jaune's answer was predictable. "Sounds like you got out at the right time."

Blake smiled, and watched the thing struggle to comprehend. It seemed to expect Jaune to freak out, and she had a suspicion as to why.

"You think that's a big deal, don't you?" she asked it. "You think the fact I'm no longer a virgin somehow diminishes my value. You also think the only reason Jaune and I would be partners is because we're secretly lovers. Am I right?" Its silence confirmed it. "That's pathetic. Not everything revolves around romance, and not everything romantic revolves around looks. Even if Jaune and I were dating, he wouldn't care for a second how many men I'd been with before or who they were. And that should be proof enough we gave our own problems. Romance isn't so black and white."

It recoiled. "You're sullied! You're a cheater! You broke up with Adam!"

"Yeah, and?" Blake smiled viciously. "First of all, breaking up with someone isn't cheating on them, but I'm guessing you're the kind of guy who thinks a girl belongs to them when they date. Let me guess – that girl you were stalking? She turned you down, didn't she?"

"I LOVED HER!"

"But she didn't love you," said Jaune, interrupting. "It happens, man. Get over it."

"NO!" it roared, launching toward them. Blake fired twice and sent it reeling back with one bullet in its chest and another in its stomach. "Argh! Monsters!" it screamed. "Horrible, cruel heartbreaker! I loved her! I would have given everything to her! I would have made her happy!"

Blake would have pitied it if it wasn't so detestable, and if it hadn't already tried to feel her up. There was pitiable and then there was disgusting, and this anomaly – no, this person – was in the latter category.

"The world would be a better place with me!" it said. "Can't you see it? No more uncertainty, no more pain, no more broken hearts. I can make the world better! I can make people happier!"

"You'd predetermine everything."

"I CAN SEE THE TRUTH! I look beyond looks! I look beyond how handsome a man is or how hot a woman is. I can show people who will truly make them happy! No more jocks, no more bitches, just people in happy, loving and loyal relationships!"

"You got hurt once and you let it dictate your life!" hissed Blake. "Get over it. There are people out there who have had it far worse than you, and they didn't see the need to lose their humanity and become a monster over it. Did you even try and find love elsewhere? Or was it her or nothing?"

"SHE WAS MY ONE!"

The latter, then. Blake pulled back on the trigger.

Only for Jaune to stop her.

"Jaune-?"

"Hang on a second." He stepped forward, smiling comfortingly. "Alright, big guy. You know who I am, right? Jaune. Containments Office. You know I'm the one most likely to not kill you. Don't you?"

Why was he reasoning with it? They'd both determined that it had to be killed, and ARC Corp wouldn't let them take it alive. Blake didn't want to give it a chance, either. This was a human intelligence, and it was a misogynistic and potentially violent one, but Jaune waved a hand behind him to make her lower her weapon.

"Come on, Mr Mable. You know this is over. You're caught, and even if you somehow get rid of us the rest of ARC Corp knows where you are, and it's not like you can get out of Eastport looking like that. Your best bet now is to cooperate."

The creature twisted its strange, bisected head left and right, as if gauging its odds of escape. They were slim, and as inhuman as it was, it didn't seem to have any offensive powers. Its anomalous ability was to determine someone's perfect match, and its shape… Blake wasn't sure why it had taken such a shape, but maybe it was symbolic.

Roger Marble had obviously been a creep, and he'd become an insect. He'd taken photos and had camera lenses in his chest. He'd been obsessed over "true love" and gained an ability based around it.

Piecing all those things together didn't answer anything, but it made her wonder if a person's own self-image of themselves might influence their transformation in some way. If Roger subconsciously thought of himself as a creep, or as a worthless insect in his love's eyes, then maybe he'd become an insect to represent that. Jaune had changed when his mother died to fire, and his hand had been in the inferno. Maybe he'd seen himself as charcoal being burned alive, and part of his body had turned into an endless source of fuel and flame.

It was something she'd have to talk to Jaune about after this.

"I just have a few questions for you, Mr Mable, and if you answer them then I will try and get you a more favourable sentence. You know this is your best chance. Help me help you, Mr Marble."

Its wings beat. "I can't see your match…"

"I'm an anomaly, Mr Marble. Like you. Anomalies can't affect one another."

"Oh." Roger's human voice came through. "I didn't know that."

"I wouldn't expect you to. It's all very confidential knowledge. That's what I want to talk to you about." Jaune leaned in. "How did you know about ARC Corp and its members? How did you know about Reality Class anomalies to know you should try and expose yourself to be safe? You know things that no one should know, and which your power cannot have told you." Jaune's eyes hardened. "So, who told you about us and all we do?"

Blake's eyes widened.

He was right.

This anomaly had known ARC Corp, and it had known how its best bet was to become a Reality Class anomaly. But that wasn't common knowledge. It was never supposed to be. No other anomaly had known about this other than Winter, and only for the obvious reason of being related to ARC Corp. The only way this guy could have known would be if someone had told him how to become Reality Class.

Was there a traitor within ARC Corp?

"If…" The creature licked its lips. "If I tell you, you'll keep me safe, right?"

Jaune smiled. "I promise I'll do my best."

"O—Okay. It was my legal firm." That was not the answer Blake expected, nor Jaune going by his stunned expression. "They told me in a consultation that the only way I could become a legally accepted anomaly was if ARC Corp registered me as Reality Class, and that I'd be safe from all harm once that happened. They also told me about you all, and what you do, and how I shouldn't be caught by you before I became Reality Class." It sighed. "And I was so close, too."

"Wait, wait, wait." Jaune was frantic. "Back up. A legal firm told you all that? Who? Which!?"

"It was Anomalous & Sons."

Jaune was shaking his head. "What…? Are you making this up?"

"No. I promise it's true. Their card appeared on my desk three days after I became this," he explained, "And I called it and they arranged a meeting to discuss my case. They explained everything to me and then told me about you and how I could become Reality Class. I signed a contract and everything."

Jaune opened his mouth.

But the man in the white suit on Jaune's left beat him to it. "You did sign a contract, Mr Marble, and I must say you also agreed to a confidentiality clause within said contract, and you stated that you understood what that meant." He shook his head. "Tut, tut, tut. You're in breach of contract now, and we take our contracs rather seriously."

Jaune leapt away.

Blake's gun swivelled to the man who had appeared in the basement without any of them noticing. He had bright blue eyes, greying hair, and a handsome smile. "Ah, Miss Belladonna. By what legal right are you aiming a weapon at me? None, I daresay."

Her hand twitched and moved the gun away without her control. Eyes wide, she tried to yank it back, only to feel like she was fighting a magnet repelling another. She could aim the barrel to his left, to the floor, above him and even move it in a circle around him, but she could not aim the weapon at him. Not in the slightest. "Jaune!" she yelled. "I can't shoot!"

"For your own good, Miss Belladonna. You would not want to be in breach of the law like Mr Marble here. We at Anomalous & Sons take that very seriously. I am afraid, Mr Mable, that you have breached out contract and we must therefore breach with you."

He snapped his fingers.

And the anomaly, Matchmaker, erupted from the inside out. His body folded in on itself, his innards breaching his epidermis and not so much spraying gore as oozing it across the floor. He fell in on himself, collapsing to the ground in a bundle of rotting flesh.

Blake gagged and covered her mouth with her free hand.

"I do apologise for the mess," said the man in the white suit. "As an apology, please do find here some information on Mr Mable which should be enough to see his app shut down for good." He tossed a pen drive to Jaune, who caught it with his good hand. "Ah, Mr Arc. Long had we considered offering our services to you if you wish to split from your family, but we see the time is not yet right."

Jaune pulled off his glove and approached the man. "You can't stop me like you did Blake. I'm an anomaly."

"Ah, but so was Mr Marble here and I was quite able to turn him inside out," said the apparent lawyer, indicating the dead anomaly. He was right, and Jaune froze. "You will find, Mr Arc, that the law does not differentiate. If you are in break the law then the law does not care whether you are human, faunus, or anomaly. But I am feeling forgiving today." He snapped his fingers. "So I will only right the fact that you entered this home without an appropriate search warrant."

The world shifted, and Blake lurched, landing in a stumble on a quiet street with her gun out. They were in front of the house again, the front door open, the area quiet. Jaune was beside her, transported as easily as she, and despite him being an anomaly. And anomalies weren't supposed to be able to effect other anomalies.

Blake made to enter the house, but Jaune stopped her. "We can't risk it," he said. "Let's report this in. Matchmaker is dead and we'll need to make sure the investigative team has an official search warrant before they enter that place."

"The lawyer…?"

"Is gone by now, and I don't want to see what he could do to us if we broke in against the law. He seems to have some ability related to that. Or rules. If we ever see him again, we'll need to make sure everything is done by the book."

"You think we will see him again?"

"We'll have to. His firm, be it anomalous or not, advised a new anomaly on how to become Reality Class. I've no idea who their clients are or what they're paying with, but if they're going to tell people to try and become Reality Class then that makes them immediate and priority enemies of ARC Corp."

Blake sighed and holstered her weapon as Jaune made the call. At least they'd done what they came to. That ought to please ARC Corp at least and buy them a little breathing room. Even if it meant a new threat showing up. With any luck, this could be someone else's responsibility to deal with.


Next Chapter: 18th September

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