It’s been a week since my run-in with Technologica, and the QUTD welcoming ceremony for the freshman class is tomorrow. My spacious studio apartment is barren; I haven’t had any time to purchase any furniture. A couch, my bed, and a single table are all I have. It's cold and sterile, not at all what I want to project.

  A loud thumping comes from my door. The guest of honor for tonight arrives. I give myself a once-over in the bathroom mirror to make sure I look presentable. I press the video button on the screen embedded in the wall to the right of my door. A 4k live feed of the outside of my door appears, showing Aubrey. She's holding a twenty-four pack of beer. I hit the unlock icon and the bolts in my door release, sliding open.

  “Bout time you opened up, leaving me to stand out here like some kind of escort,” Aubrey complained.

  “Hi, Eryk. It's so nice to see you. Thanks for inviting me to your new apartment. Think nothing of it, Aubrey, my dear friend. I'm always happy to host you,” I replied mockingly.

  “Okay dick. You made your point. Sorry for being cranky,” Aubrey apologized, walking into my apartment. “Holy crap dude. This place is huge. I have a decently sized dorm room, and it's not even a quarter of the size of this.”

  Aubrey wanders around with her mouth open, looking at my raised ceilings and wide view. Regal Residences is an expensive apartment complex. And you get what you pay for. My kitchen area is separated from the rest of the studio with black stone tiles for flooring, different from the hardwood floors that comprise the rest of my floor. The kitchen comes complete with appliances and a huge island that’s big enough to have a double sink and an overhang for pushing stools under the high-top counter. White oak trim separates the walls from the floor, giving the place the look of an upscale New York City apartment without the smell of NYC streets. I throw my hands up and shrug.

  “It only looks big because I don’t have any stuff. Once I get some posters or paintings for the walls, it’ll be perfect,” I lied.

  “Maybe. I think it’ll still be huge, but you really do need some more items. This place is like a warehouse showroom; it’s so devoid of personality. It looks like nobody lives here,” Aubrey criticized.

  “Okay, okay. Jesus, I’m working on it. It’s only my third night in the apartment. Pass me the beers, and I’ll put them in the fridge.”

  I grabbed the handle on the box and slotted it on the third shelf. My fridge is barren as well. I need to go grocery shopping or set up one of those weekly delivery plans. There’s too much to do and not nearly enough hours in the day. At least one of my tasks will get checked off tonight. I slide my hand into my left jean pocket, feeling for the small plastic baggie. When I texted Isaiah about what to use if I needed to make someone go to sleep and stay asleep, he was ready to offer all sorts of options. He asked for the rough measurements of whoever I had to drug, and he’d get me a good dosage. Vivienne came by earlier to give me the tasteless, odorless white powder. I don’t know the name of it, and I don’t need to. Isaiah’s loyalty is unquestionable.

  “So, how’ve you been? You’re rooming with that girl Violet?” I asked.

  A pointless question. I already know the answer.

  “Yeah, she’s one of the people on my team. And she’s single,” Aubrey said suggestively.

  I suppress a groan, turning around to face Aubrey. Her eyebrows are raised, and she’s winking. She’s wearing a baggy yellow shirt and some black tights, with her silky smooth black hair down. I can see the red fern-like patterns standing out harshly against her tan skin on her chest; it will never go away. Aubrey makes a point only to wear things that completely hide them. I’m the only person she feels comfortable enough around not to hide the scars. And I’m going to use that trust to drug her tonight.

  “We haven’t even started classes; I’m not looking for a relationship or anything like it as of right now.”

  “Boo. We’re officially in college or soon to be. It’s time to get slutty and make poor decisions,” Aubrey whined.

  “And you think I should be the one to be getting slutty and making poor decisions?” I deadpanned.

  Aubrey sighs loudly. “No. You’re a stick in the mud. I’m still having trouble believing you’re willing to drink.”

  I grab two glasses from my cabinets and put some ice cubes in them. I grab two cans of beer from the fridge and crack them open, pouring them into the cups. Should I use it now? No, I’ll have to wait until after we’ve had a few. I bring our drinks over and plop down on the couch next to her.

  “Dude, you don’t drink beer with ice. Cmon, Eryk. You’re watering down my already watered-down shitty light beer. This is going to taste like you soaked a piece of bread in some tap water. I’ll handle the next drink. We’re going to have to chug these,” Aubrey said regretfully.

  The two of us clink glasses and gulp our drinks down. Unpleasant. Disgusting. Once, I thought that drinking alcohol was a risk I couldn’t afford to take. That partaking in any substances would result in my true nature being exposed. But I’ve only gotten as far as I have due to my ability to infiltrate, deceive, and fit into any environment. And fitting in doesn’t mean unnoticed; it means overlooked. Not drinking in college will make me stand out, so I better get used to this taste. Aubrey let out a huge burp, patting her stomach.

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  “What’d you think of your first taste?” She asked, putting her glass down on the table.

  “It was terrible, to be honest.”

  “Yep, that’s the point. I’ll get the next one, so you don’t mess it up,” Aubrey joked, getting up to grab the beers.

  “Are you excited about taking the first step toward the rest of our lives?” I asked, catching the can she throws at me.

  “Jesus, dude, what are you, my guidance counselor?” Aubrey said.

  “Sorry. It feels like I was just in Mr. Frederick’s history class, listening to you and Maggie competing for speaking time. Then I blinked, and I was suddenly here at college with you and without Maria. I’m not the same person that was in that class. And that’s just the difference a few months have made. What am I going to be like at the end of our four years here?” I let a little bit of emotion slip out of my voice.

  It’s true. The me from before was a bored person with a unique condition. The current me is a Cowl, the creator of a criminal organization, the founder of a company, a thief, a murderer, and a completely different person. What would I think of the current me? Would or could Eryk Blakely come to terms with Nobody? I had no direction, no goals, just the quest to find something that made me feel anything. Now, I’ve killed countless people, ripped their powers, their personality pieces, and their lives from them. Everything from the creation of the Neuvohuman serial killer to gathering powerful Cowls in order to control Quinstin to making Zero and Six into walking calamities is to fuel tensions between Neuvohumans and regular people. A race war that will spread across the country, making more Neuvohumans through mass trigger events. Then I’ll use my power base to capture and steal their emotions. I wasn’t born a person, but I will make myself one.

  “I didn’t think of it that way. In a way, the us from before the party doesn’t even exist anymore. That’s kinda sad. Damnit, Eryk, you’re bumming me the fuck out and we’re supposed to be celebrating,” Aubrey said, lightly punching my arm.

  “We can celebrate the future while mourning the past. It doesn’t have to be either or. It’s bittersweet, but that’s life. We’re still here, and we’ve got four years of excitement and intrigue ahead of us,” I said, cracking open my beer.

  I start chugging the piss yellow liquid, wiping my mouth dry after slamming the can down on the table. It is completely nauseating. There’s no flavor profile; it tastes like wet flour with a sour tang. It lingers in my mouth, overstaying its welcome. I smack my lips and give Aubrey a cheesy smile.

  “Well, I can’t be outdone by a rookie,” Aubrey said competitively.

  Aubrey uses her keys to stab the can and starts shotgunning the beer. She starts laughing, and I join her. The laughter peters off, and the silence is suffocating, neither of us starting a conversation. Need to continue the night or I won’t have the chance I need.

  “Did you know my dad went here when he was our age?” I asked.

  “Obviously, its his alma mater and why you went here,” she replied smugly.

  “Did you know he met my mom here in Quinstin while he was going to QUTD? She was a student at Briggerton, and they met at some speed dating mixer a frat threw,” I said.

  “No, I had no idea. That’s so adorable. We love a meet-cute,” Aubrey said.

  “It’s one of the few stories my dad likes to tell about my mom. It always made me want to see the city where they met,” I mused.

  “That’s really sweet, Eryk.”

  “Yeah, moving to Quinstin, going to QUTD, it’s a way for me to catch a glimpse of what they saw all those years ago,” I said softly.

  She leans her head against me, not in an attempt to try anything, but in a comforting way to show that she’s here for me. We sit there for a bit before she gets up to grab more beer. We kill another two each, and it’s starting to really affect me. I need to do it soon before I’m too drunk to accomplish my task. Aubrey doesn’t look like she’s doing much better; her eyelids are drooping, and she’s talking much louder.

  “Dude, I’m so happy we’re here. I know we’ve basically gone from five to two, but I’m glad I still got you, buddy,” she half-shouted.

  Your falling out with Jean-Luc certainly reduced our numbers by one, but my killing Marcus and Maria certainly didn’t help. I need to distract her more if I want to get away with this.

  “Hell yeah. The two of us here to take on Quinstin, granted you’re going to be dealing with a lot more than me,” I said, adding a drunk pause in the middle.

  “You talkin’ bout the Cowls? Dude, my team’s strong; we's got this,” Aubrey slurred.

  I walk over to the fridge and grab two beers out of it. I need to keep her talking. The crack of the cans makes Aubrey turn around and give me a thumbs up. I take the baggie out and pour the contents into Aubrey’s beer. For a second, it looks like the white powder is going to clump up, but it starts fizzing and dissolving like an Alka-Seltzer tablet. The muddy brown colored liquid looks identical to my own. Aubrey’s beer passes the sniff test; there is no difference in smell between our drinks.

  “Yeah, but Quinstin’s probably got a ton of scary Cowls. Aren’t you scared?”

  “Yesh, but I wanta make a difference,” she mumbled. “Bein’ scared isn’t a reason not to try. Evil only does good when triumph by bad people.”

  Wow, she’s drunk. Aubrey's hair is a mess and hanging over her reddened face, flush with alcohol. I pass her the beer and take a sip of my own. The beer disappears down her throat like rainwater down a city gutter. Aubrey releases some unholy mixture of a burp and a cough. She shifts over closer to me, resting her head on my shoulder.

  “I just wanna be a hero. To feel like all that tragedy we went through was for somethin’,” she said drunkenly.

  “I’m sure you’ll be a great hero,” I said softly.

  She will be; she has what it takes to be a great Cape, as long as Davis’ rage doesn’t cause her to do something she can’t tackle back. All in all, that party, that night of tragedy that feels like a lifetime ago, changed both of our lives for the better. It’s what helped me find a way to experience what I’ve been missing my whole life. It’s what gave you the chance to be a hero, Aubrey.

  We sit together in silence until the beer can breaks it, hitting my floor. Damn it, Aubrey. Aubrey’s unconscious body lies still against me—the now-empty beer just out of reach of her limp hand. A small puddle of beer is around where the cup fell. Isaiah said it would work fast, and he wasn’t wrong. I carefully extract myself from the couch, gently laying her head down on the seat. Her forehead is warm when I place my hand against it to start taking back the power I gave her. The digital clock projected onto my wall says it’s 9:17 p.m. Kai will be here soon. He better be. Kai knowing what I look like is a risk Technologica forced me to take. Now the doctor will know where I live as well. But Nobody needs a mask, and Kai is the only one I can trust to make it.

  2. Manipulator ability to absorb electricity, control and wield electricity/ Envy (Lee Daeshim)

  3. Manipulator ability to create up to three orbs of sound that can absorb all sound within and then be released all at once at a later time/ Joy (Murmur)

  4. Mentalist/Manipulator ability to see trajectories of moving objects and can make themselves and other nonliving things bouncy in a way that defies physics/ Pride (Tramp)

  5. Traveller ability to pull objects to themselves, pull themselves to objects, and swap themselves or objects through tunnels in reality/ Compassion (Callback)

  6. Caster ability to create short-range kinetic beams from their extremities/ Aggression (Punch)

  7. Traveller/Alter/Manipulator ability to separate their body into sections, dissolve said sections, clone pieces of their body, and rematerialize them anywhere in sight/ Increased libido and voyeuristic tendencies (Jeremy Swaim)

  8. Caster/Traveller/Manipulator/Alter/Ruler ability to create constructs, weapons, and objects out of different forms of energy/ Flair for drama and theatrics (Father Forward)