~~~Stanley~~~

  Stanley didn't question Lee's choices for long. Especially when he felt his twin's relief at his acceptance. The pure joy that followed was even better, and it mirrored his own. Hell, it was better than better. It was fantastic!

  Caffeine agreed, and the pug squirmed excitedly in his lap before taking off in sprinting zoomies around the room. Even the unflappable Marie cracked a smile while watching his antics, and she was still smiling when she looked back at him. "Good news, I take it?"

  "It..." His breath caught and his voice threatened to crack as a lump rose in his throat. "It's gone... the soul wound is gone!" After all this time, it was finally healed!

  Her smile widened. "That's wonderful! I had thought the feeling of your soul was lessening. Is that why I can no longer feel it?"

  Stanley blinked at her. His soul shield was down. "You can't feel my soul?"

  "No. There is a faint presence of... something, but I can't be sure whether it comes from you or somewhere else."

  "So you can't tell what I'm feeling anymore!?"

  "I would like to think I'm proficient enough at my job to have a handle on my patient's moods, but otherwise, no. It feels as if you have your shield active."

  Stanley laughed, though not really because she couldn't feel his emotions, but just... because! He hadn't realized how heavy the weight of that wound was until it vanished. He felt amazing and light as a feather! As if he could float away...

  The good mood lingered but it lost some of its shine as time went on. Despite feeling echoes of his joy reflecting from the soul brands, those same brands reminded him of what the reality truly was. This was progress, no doubt, but it was only a small step. He needed more. Much more.

  "I could give you a soul brand like I did for the others," Stanley suggested with only minor reluctance. Marie was still his current and probably best chance to rid himself of the unwanted racial evolution, considering he'd gotten the low end down to fifteen percent from twenty since he'd started working with her. Anything that helped her fix him was a good thing, even if he disliked the idea... though he wasn't sure why he did. Everyone else with the brand could feel his soul, so why would he mind one more?

  Marie hesitated, and Stanley realized he'd finally found a flaw in her ever-professional demeanor. She didn't want him to touch her soul... or would it let him see behind the mask? Assuming she had one. She had to... didn't she? No one was this calm and controlled.

  "What if only for our sessions?" Stanley said, curious now. "I can remove and replace it easily enough."

  She rallied quickly back into her neutral therapist expression. "You are quite willing to bare your soul to me but still balk at the mental exercises I ask you to try. Why is that?"

  Stanley rolled his eyes. "Letting you feel my soul is easy. Trying to rewrite the way I see the world is not."

  "I had not taken you for someone to shy away from something because it is difficult or painful." There she went, being clever again. Maybe he didn't want her in his soul... which reminded him he had another trait involving his soul to check.

  Trait: [Ruthless Unbreakable Soul]

  You are ruthless and will do whatever it takes to defeat your enemies, including destroying your own soul.

  You took a deadly wound to your soul that should have led to your annihilation. Yet you did not die and instead repaired the injury.

  Effects:

  +100% Twin-Soul Attribute added to All Mind Attributes

  -25% All Soul Damage Taken

  It was great and a far cry from what it had been. Instead of taking double damage to their soul, they would now take twenty-five percent less... He assumed that the earlier minus hadn't counted as damage, considering how happy Lee was about it. On the other hand, he wasn't sure if they'd ever taken soul damage that wasn't self-inflicted. Well, aside from that first strike that started the entire soul-wound mess...

  Yes, the updated trait was undeniably a good thing, and looking at it filled him with renewed resolve. It was a monument to their survival. A testament to the fact they wouldn't break. No matter what! Lee, Stanley thought. You seeing this? We are unbreakable! We will never say die! NEVER!

  He squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his fists in grim triumph. They had come this far. They could go the distance. They would go the distance!

  Though... that still left him with a glaring issue to resolve... well, more than one issue, but solving the current crisis would help him solve everything else.

  He opened his eyes and met the calm gaze coming his way. "I'm not afraid to do the hard things. But... do you have something harder I can do? Ideally something that will work faster? I don't care if it hurts."

  Marie smiled her therapist smile at him, though it might have been a bit more sincere this time... "There are no shortcuts to self-improvement, Stanley. Not like I suspect you are thinking of, at least. But doing the work will yield results if you stick with it."

  Stanley sighed. "That would have been too easy, wouldn't it? Alright. Um, can we go over that stuff again? Just to refresh my memory..."

  She talked, and Stanley did his best to listen in between the occasional bout of meditation. It was still a lot of bullshit, but since he didn't have a better solution, he listened and tried his best.

  "I want you to try something else along with your exercises," she said later near the end of the session, and simply from her tone, he knew he wouldn't like whatever she was about to say. "I would like for you to stop hunting."

  He was right. He didn't like it.

  "You've said yourself that it is inefficient, not to mention that Nate promised you all the cores you could want."

  "I could still level my skills..."

  "Are you lacking in power? Do you truly need more skill levels?"

  "More power is always a good thing..." Stanley insisted. But she was right about it being inefficient, and getting to D-grade would give him far more power than any skill levels.

  "You are dividing your focus by pursuing a path you yourself have claimed is suboptimal. You do not need to hunt. You do not even need to watch over your friends thanks to the brands you have placed on them. You have the freedom to devote yourself fully to the endeavor of self-improvement. It would be a shame to waste that opportunity, wouldn't it?"

  "Meditating all day doesn't help me that much." Not to mention how boring it got after a while. What else was he supposed to do? Get a hobby? Take up knitting? Though... he'd probably be great at it with Mind Over Matter... once he figured it out.

  "May I make another suggestion?"

  Again, he knew he wasn't going to like this, but he sighed and asked anyway. "What?"

  "Get to know more people. Mingle. Not with your friends, but strangers. People you've never interacted with before. Heaven knows there are enough of us crammed in here to make it nearly impossible not to meet new people every day."

  Stanley narrowed his eyes at the conniving woman. "I told you I don't want..."

  "You are afraid that you might care for them and then they will die and it will hurt you?"

  He glared silently for a beat, then relented. He had asked her to help fix him. If this was what it took... well, what was a little more pain on top of everything else? He knew pain.

  Marie smiled gently at whatever she saw on his face. "It is only natural to avoid suffering, Stanley. It's human. But we must be careful that in the process we don't also end up avoiding all the things that give our lives purpose and meaning."

  "I'm not afraid of pain," Stanley said, and it was only a slight misrepresentation of the truth. "I'm more worried that those idiots out there will piss me off and I'll have to throw them out a window."

  "Try not to do that," she said with a smile. "If nothing else, it should give you ample opportunity to practice your mindfulness techniques."

  "Hmm... use them as guinea pigs. I can work with that."

  Marie huffed out a breath in what might have been a laugh. "You don't need to make friends with anyone, but just... keep an open mind. Get to know them. Learn who they are and what they want from life. Maybe they'll surprise you."

  The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  "I don't like surprises."

  "They are human, Stanley—just like you and me—in all the varied, messy, and complicated ways that word entails. They dream. They fear. They hurt. They hope." She held up a hand when he opened his mouth. "And yes, some are idiots. But out there we have the whole spectrum of humanity. A humanity that you are currently striving to retain yourself."

  "Are they really? I mean, are any of us actually still human?"

  "We are. Magic hasn't changed who we are on a fundamental level. It has only served to... amplify certain aspects. Both good and bad."

  "You know," Stanley grumbled. "Sending me out to mingle with the unwashed masses might not be the convincing argument for staying human that you think it is."

  "But you'll try it?"

  "Yeah," Stanley sighed. "I'll try it." There were good people out there. He knew that. Hell, he knew a bunch of them, though presumably... not all of them? Hopefully? "Man, this is going to suck."

  "I have heard you talk repeatedly about your perceived failures, Stanley, yet not once have you mentioned the thousands of lives you have saved. They are out there, alive, thanks to you. See them, know them, and revel in your victories."

  "They'll all still die if..." Stanley trailed off at the look she was giving him. "I know. It's not over until it's over."

  Marie stood, and Stanley floated into the air with Caffeine in his lap. He cast a longing look toward the balcony before turning back to the interior door with a resigned sigh.

  "You can do this," Marie said, patting him on the back. "I'll see you tomorrow and we can discuss how it went."

  Marie's apprentice was still in the waiting room, and she was handing out Walter phones to the people with appointments... which Stanley was quite sure were nothing more than rocks, though she probably didn't know that. It helped delude everyone into not knowing that Walter was always watching...

  Unfortunately, Sebastien was still there as well, and he beamed when Stanley accidentally made eye contact. He almost kept flying. Instead, he gathered his courage and reminded himself that he was literally an untouchable demigod with an unbreakable soul. He had nothing to fear from this man or any other.

  "Thanks," Stanley muttered, almost inaudibly, before clearing his throat and speaking at a regular volume. "I appreciate it. I... owe you one." He owed a lot of ones... though it was possible that this man also owed him his life. So maybe he didn't owe him?

  "Don't say that, sir! Honestly, I was happy to help!" Sebastien moved his hand out as if for a handshake, then thought better of it and only winked instead. "Us old-timers gotta stick together, after all." Then he bent to give the pawing Caffeine a head scratch. "Hey there, pup, you be a good boy, okay?"

  Stanley nodded and didn't correct him regarding his age. He also didn't mention that the guy could easily knock at least a decade off by grading up again. He probably already knew that since he was E-grade... though, damn! How old was he before E-grade!? Rather than ask, he waved while walking for the door, since most people didn't fly around and he was supposed to... mingle. Marie hadn’t told him to blend in... but he felt like that was implied. "Thanks again. I'll... uh, see you around."

  Sebastian watched him go with a lighter soul than he'd had when they first met. He wasn't all happiness and sunshine, and there were still plenty of darker things lurking inside the man’s soul, but in that moment, he was... mostly content.

  The crowded hallways presented a new challenge, in that Stanley just couldn't bring himself to approach a random person and start talking. What was he even supposed to say? Hello!? Tell me about yourself or I'll chuck you out a window. Well, probably not that last one...

  Debuff Upgraded: [Famished]

  Perfect. Something else to do first.

  He started upstairs for his penthouse room, fully intending to ask Walter for some food, before hesitating. There was a communal eating area, wasn't there? He'd seen Caffeine down there a time or two. Now if he could just remember what floor it was on...

  Looking for a crowd of eating people didn't help, since pretty much every floor was full of people, but one soul stood out as a solid clue to where he should go. Jerry. The guy was almost always cooking before, so it stood to reason he was still doing the same thing here.

  He was, and Caffeine led the way once they entered the ballroom-turned-mess hall, though Stanley met an obstacle when he tried to follow the pug into the kitchen.

  "Excuse me, sir," a man said, holding up a hand to block him when he tried to walk around the counter after the pug. "This area is for kitchen personnel only, but I can get a meal brought out to you if you give me a minute."

  Stanley considered flying past or simply moving the man out of his way, but he didn't. Instead, he asked, "What's on the menu?"

  "Whatever the cooks are making," the man answered while unfazed at the barking and banging coming from the kitchen behind him.

  Stanley squinted at the unflinching man. "You know there's a dog in the kitchen, right?"

  "Look," the guy said, a hint of impatience in his tone. "I don't make the rules. If the cooks say to let the dog in, I let the dog in. I'm sure they know what they're doing, and no one's gotten food poisoning yet. If you don't like it, then go somewhere else."

  The attitude seemed excessive until Stanley remembered what he was wearing. Damn suits! Clearly, this guy had met them before, and more clearly, he'd never had the pleasure of tossing one through a window. Stanley hadn't met any suits with glowing eyes yet, but maybe they weren't all lazy fucks?

  "I'll come back," he said, and the guy turned away without a word, relieved to be rid of him.

  He didn't take it personally and flew upstairs to look through the dressers in his room. Unfortunately, he only found more socks and underwear. Equally disappointing, the walk-in closet held nothing but more suits. "Walter?" he finally called. "Do you have any other clothes for me to wear?"

  "Is there a problem with your attire?" Walter said, appearing in the room a heartbeat later. "I assure you, I can make any alterations you require."

  Stanley winced at the feelings coming from his soul and quickly corrected the situation. "It's not that I don't like the suit, Walter. I love it! This thing was... is! Is a godsend! But you know how Marie wants me to mingle, right?"

  The tuxedoed butler gave no reaction, remaining as stone-faced as ever. "I'm sure I wouldn't know what Sir is talking about."

  Stanley resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Don't be like that with me now, Walter! I know you could hear me down there... which means you know my soul wound is finally healed! God, I'm still having trouble believing it myself..."

  "I am most pleased to hear that," Walter said, genuinely happy, though still trying to maintain the facade that he hadn't known before this moment. "Does this mean you no longer require my..."

  "I'm keeping the suit," Stanley said, cutting him off before Walter could try guilting him any further. "But while I'm stuck in here... mingling... I'd like to not be associated with those other idiots, and I know you know who I'm talking about. I'm surprised that you haven't thrown any of them out of a window yet."

  Stanley paused and eyed the butler. "I gotta say, Walter. You should try it sometime. It feels pretty good."

  The corner of Walter's mouth twitched upward, but that was the extent of his visible reaction. Instead, he went right to business. "Very well. What did you have in mind? I'm sure I could fashion a simple wardrobe in..."

  "You don't need to make anything," Stanley said quickly.

  "I assure you it is no trouble," Walter said, a hint of pride in his tone. "In fact, ever since Master Zeke and his fellows have begun assisting with the training, I have found myself with much more free time."

  Stanley still didn't want to go that far. "Don't you have some old sweats lying around or something?"

  Walter reacted as if Stanley had struck him across the face, his body stiffening and his words clipped. "Does Sir wish to wander the halls in his pajamas?"

  Stanley couldn't help it. He burst out laughing.

  Between everything that had happened recently, from the abject despair of his failure to save Zeke only a few days ago to the ecstatic joy of today's events, and then to top it all off with Walter's absolute adherence to formality. It was too much not to laugh, especially considering Marie's insane plan for him to go... mingle.

  Walter took his outburst in stride and might even have cracked a smile of his own once he got over being aghast at the idea of someone wearing sweatpants in public. Honestly, it felt like he would have preferred to see Stanley flying around in his underwear...

  Once they started trying different options, however, Stanley had to wear him down from the first suggestion that he merely remove the suit jacket all the way to removing the vest and tie as well.

  "I'm trying to blend in," Stanley finally said, then hesitated when he realized he wasn't really sure what people wore these days.

  Walter conceded further until Stanley ended up in a dark gray dress shirt but sans tie and with the sleeves rolled up, a plain belt, and less fancy shoes that didn't gleam with polish in even the faintest light. It still felt like too much, but he didn't press the issue. He was getting too hungry for that.

  He looked normal enough in the mirror—maybe too normal—though the glowing eyes definitely stood out, but the darker shirt hid the glowing lines running down his arms so long as he remained in a well-lit room. It was good enough.

  His triumphant return to the mess hall was met with no fanfare other than a brief greeting from Caffeine before the pug resumed his begging circuit at the many tables. It was much more crowded than earlier, and Stanley even had to wait in line at the counter to get his food. Just like the rest of the masses.

  He wasn't a fan, but he waited anyway, and the line moved fast since there was no ordering at this restaurant. Everyone simply grabbed a plate of the same mush while the people behind the counter continuously brought out more pots of the stuff to replenish the supply.

  Stanley felt some dirty looks on his back when he lingered long enough to take two plates instead of one. Though the feeling vanished when he literally inhaled the contents of both. Well, not literally, but it probably looked that way when he used his power to funnel the food down his throat and into his stomach. Then he grabbed a third plate and took that with him to find a table.

  Obviously, he didn't need a table or even to take longer than a second to eat, but that was what people did—normal people—and there were hundreds of them in here...

  The noise level was cacophonous as he strolled among the gathered masses and looked for an open seat where he could start the mingling. It was almost nerve-wracking... until he reminded himself that he was a demigod and all that. Then it was only a little disturbing... Was this what a school cafeteria felt like?

  Probably not, considering the magic he saw in use all over. Or the occasional person leaping through the air to avoid the crowds on the ground... They didn't always land well, but no one started fighting like he expected them to after the collisions... almost no one did. He felt one soul flare with violent intent behind him, but the soul vanished almost instantly. Walter, no doubt. Did he throw them outside? Ideally through a window?

  Stanley hoped so, because policing the sheer number of people in this building had to be a miserable, thankless job. The poor butler should have some fun where he could.

  As he meandered through the crowds, Stanley found a few open spots here and there but kept moving when some of the souls at those tables felt like idiots, and he was glad he did when he finally found the table with a blood-red spear propped up against it.

  The spear didn't feel as haunting to look at today... so maybe that meant he was improving? And sure, he already knew Kira, sort of? Well, truthfully, he barely knew her, and he definitely didn't know the others at her table, so that was good enough, wasn't it?

  You better be right about this, Marie.