With how far Pueltown is from Vientown, it only takes… I’d need to look at a clock to know how long to get here by train. That’s probably bad.

  At least Espeon wasn’t nervous during the ride. I spent most of the trip trying to ignore the stares we were getting. I probably could have left the train, now that I think of it.

  Even before we step—float, in my case—onto the station, I’m impressed by the city as the train rolls into it. Vientown, despite how busy it can be, has an almost lazy, urban fantasy town feel to it. In contrast, Pueltown is what I expect from a city, and then more.

  It’s like an old picture of ‘the city of the future’ was built on top of an actually old city, and then terraces and gardens were placed on top of that one. It’s alive, humans and pokemon are moving everywhere all at once, and, unlike Vientown, there are vehicle roads. Even if there aren’t that many cars on them.

  Onaga’s waiting on something. ‘Cargo bus,’ Holt had said. I hope it gets here soon, someone’s starting to feel impatient.

  Just as I start thinking about striking up a conversation, I notice several people making their way through the crowd to stand in front of Onaga. One is pulling, unsurprisingly, a pallet jack. “Miss Onaga, apologies about the delay,” The man in front says, giving a straight-backed half-bow for some reason. “We were told the package would be heavy?”

  Straight to the point, at least.

  “Five people should be more than enough, but I don’t think it’s necessary,” Onaga tells him, rolling her shoulders as she crouches by the crate. “Misdreavus? …Espeon?”

  What’s she– Oh, right. The machine is inside something we can move psychically.

  Oh, good, now Espeon’s nervous. I’ve seen you move things, you have a lot more control than I do. Although, strength probably matters more, here. So… how strong are you? You’ve never really shown anyone.

  Espeon simply grows more nervous.

  Ah. He doesn’t know.

  I’m getting real tired of having to hold in every sigh just to keep people from being uncomfortable. Oh well. Encapsulating the bottom of the wooden box, I try picking it up. I manage, but it’s a significant strain. I’m mostly certain I could stop gravity in a zone and not need to fight it, however, if it won’t work on the heavy part…

  Another zone springs into existence, overlapping mine with a very strange feeling as Espeon adds lift as well.

  Yeah, he’s definitely a stronger psychic than I am. He also knows how to control it better. I can’t do hollow areas on my own, so he guides my output to fully surround the crate without touching what’s inside.

  Thanks.

  Once Onaga starts pulling, then pushing, the three of us together don’t have any issues getting the thing onto the jack, and Onaga gives an approving nod even as she ushers the whole group away from the train.

  “So, only mechanics to pick us up?” She queries the men as they lead us to… the first car I’ve seen up close here. Well, ‘car.’ It’s more like a long, red van.

  “As I’m sure you’re well aware,” The man obviously in charge says, “There aren’t a lot of rangers to go around right now.”

  “All too well,” The woman comments.

  We reverse the process of moving the crate, strapping it into the back of what really does look like a cargo bus on the inside, with a few rows of hard, beltless seating and empty shelving in the back.

  We all pile in, Espeon sticking to Onaga like a leech as we settle. Everyone seems to be acting professionally for the moment. Mostly there’s just general curiosity, though the ‘mechanics’ are throwing the occasional look at Onaga or the box.

  “So, how’s it down South at the moment?” someone asks as I hear an engine turn over.

  “About the same as always, I’d say,” Onaga shrugs. “A few more issues than normal, but that’s it.”

  “Yeah, Hastings– Well, most of us can’t wait to get a look at what’s in the box,” Someone else says.

  I do my best to tune the small talk out. Honestly, I’m a bit bored at being stuck here instead of looking around the city. I can be patient, though.

  ***

  “Wow,” I can’t help saying as I float out the side of the transport van-bus, “Now that’s impressive.”

  The ranger headquarters, a ways out west of Pueltown, is a fortress. Genuinely, it looks like someone took a castle, retrofitted it with a modern– No scratch that, postmodern tower right in the middle before sticking a small forest on top of that.

  What is with this world’s architecture, I love it.

  “So that’s what you sound like,” One of the mechanics whose name I didn’t bother memorizing—not that I could help it, it’s Will—says. “Is your whole body a resonance chamber?”

  “I have no idea,” I say brightly. “I’m pretty sure it’s not!”

  “Do you need us to unload…” Onaga trails off as the lead mechanic waves the words away.

  “We’ll be going around through the loading bay,” He says, waving somewhere to the side of the castle, “I’m pretty sure someone is waiting for you just inside,” He continues with a knowing look.

  Onaga simply nods, moving for the large glass doors set into the fortress. Weaver and Espeon obviously follow her, and I’m not going to pass up seeing inside that building.

  The doors slide open automatically as we get near, but I’m paying more attention to the fact that there’s still an iron gate above the entrance. I wonder if the mechanism is still intact?

  I need to stop myself as I start to drift past where the others have stopped. Hmm, is that surprise I taste? And uncertainty…

  Looking down, we’re in a large lobby, or possibly an atrium. There are only three people here, and two of them are wearing what could best be described as business casual.

  However, I think what surprised Onaga was the older woman in what might be a ranger uniform standing in the middle of the lobby. What with the way the ranger is staring.

  The elderly woman has her hair in two tight braids to keep its clear frizziness in check, and I can’t really tell her age. Maybe mid-sixties or seventies? She’s clearly stayed healthy, whatever the case.

  Something’s off about her uniform… Yeah, it’s different but what’s setting me off– Oh. She doesn’t have a rank anywhere.

  That’s probably bad.

  The unknown woman smiles, leaning on a cane that I’m not sure she needs, “Ranger Onaga. I see you’ve brought all your partners,” She says, scanning over us with all too sharp eyes.

  To her credit, Onaga doesn’t falter at all, standing at attention, “Chair Erma. Two of them were involved in the incident earlier today, and one is…” she winces, “Relatively dependent, at the moment.”

  That’s a fair breakdown I’d say, but Chair Erma?

  “There’s no need to feel intimidated, Miss Onaga. I simply felt the need to be present for the upcoming events,” The elderly woman, reassures. “That, and my partner, Riley, will be seeing to your own companions. Would you please follow me.”

  Wow, that’s something alright. She managed to make the request sound like a command by sheer presence alone.

  I think I understand who this woman is. She’s the person in charge here. Which I guess means… she’s Onaga’s boss’ boss’ boss’ boss. Or something like that.

  Damn.

  She leads us through several stone-brick hallways before we enter a very… retro looking conference room. Or modern, by the current year’s standards.

  There are several people waiting already. A ranger, a man in a suit, another man in a suit, and– A lucario?

  I almost do a double-take because she’s tripping something in my mind with how she looks. Of course, it’s not the first time a pokemon has done that, but she’s shorter than I would have expected, for starters. She’s… old, too. Graying around the snout and ears. But her short fur means I can see just how wiry her frame is. Also, those pointy metal things look sharp.

  She’s holding a clipboard, and I get that the games and cartoons were stylized, but why do all pokemon hands have to look so monstrous? At least she has three fingers to go with the thumb…

  “If you’d take a seat, ma’am,” one of the suited men says, gesturing at a chair, “Your pokemon will need to–”

  “I will remind you, representative,” Erma says, and oh that tone of voice, “That the League’s involvement in this is a gesture, not a requirement.” She then turns an eye on only two of us, ignoring the man’s reaction, “Ranger Weaver, Misdreavus, I’d ask you to speak with Riley, please,” She indicates the lucario, “About the events surrounding the Nabiki tidal cave and the machine found there. We will be speaking with Onaga about the same.”

  Well, there’s definitely something going on there, but I want nothing to do with it. Glancing at the lucario in the room, I float over.

  “Spirit,” She greets before kneeling and beckoning me to lower myself, “I do hope you are well.” She looks behind me, and I turn to see Weaver hesitating, glancing between Onaga and everyone else before slowly making her way over.

  “Are you truly a spirit?” The lucario asks.

  Ah, an immediate curveball. What?

  She’s looking at me, so, “Um… Maybe?”

  “I was merely curious, forgive me,” Riley, bows her head, her black tassel-like-things lifting for a moment, “I… see. I am sorry for your death.” What? Oh, right, the weird life-sense thing they can apparently do. At least most pokemon aren’t all that interested in asking about my previous life.

  “It’s been a strange few weeks,” I say, shaking my head, “Though I’m honestly glad to hear anything about ghosts that I can.”

  “They really are,” Weaver backs me up, keeping an ear angled toward the humans—and Espeon, “Even if they’re genuinely terrible at following up on that. Or asking about it. Or talking to people.”

  Thank you, Weaver, you’re the best.

  “It is strange. Their aura is, quite simply, not. Alive, yet without life. I am surprised they can even speak,” The elderly pokemon says, pulling a pen from her clipboard and looking up at me, “I must admit, being so close to you, spirit, is… uncomfortable for me. However, Sasako has asked for everything you can tell me of today’s events as you remember them.”

  Sasako? …Wait, no, does she mean I’m missing something that’s needed to be ‘alive’? Am I actually undead?

  Weaver snickers, refocusing my attention as she breaks out into a cackle before she gets it under control, “Hey, hey Smokey. How much do you think you can tell her?”

  I force a smile, even as Riley cocks her head, “Depends on how long we want to be here.”

  That makes the lucario’s eyes sharpen, zeroing in on me, “What Do you mean by that?”

  “I can tell you everything,” I say. “Right down to the number of times each zubat beat their wings.”

  ***

  “So… that’s politics?” I ask, watching the ranger, the Sienna Federal Investigation Department agent—what a mouthful—and the ‘League’ representative, all continue to try to get Onaga’s facts straight.

  Erma left shortly after the whole thing began, apparently being needed elsewhere.

  “An unfortunate necessity of operating a large force, for humans,” Riley confirms, rereading what I and then Weaver told her. “The League seems incapable of trusting us to continue doing what we have for decades without their oversight.”

  The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  I’ve heard comments about this… “And this has been happening since–”

  “Late last year. They wanted ranger branches,” Weaver finishes for me.

  “That’s not exactly how it happened, though I suppose it’s close enough,” Riley says, distractedly, “Erma has wanted to expand the Union for some time. Into Sinnoh. The League made Hoenn a requirement as well.”

  Okay… She’s genuinely angry, not that you could tell by looking at her. So, a touchy subject for some reason.

  I rejoin Weaver in watching as one man questions Onaga while another questions him. It’s pretty clear the Rangers mostly have what they want, including a thorough questioning of Onaga’s decision-making process.

  “How much longer do you think they’ll be at it?” I ask.

  “That depends,” The lucario comments, her… whatever they’re called, tassel-things, rising as she closes her eyes, “Sasako is still in a meeting with Hastings and his team, I find it unlikely the representative will end his questions without her prompting.” Opening her eyes, she turns her gaze on me for a moment before returning to what she’d written, “I don’t believe I will need any more from you. I understand if you want to return to Onaga, however, I also know you are a new partner.” She gestures outward, paw-hand palm up, “You may wander If you wish. Indeed, I’d ask you leave simply for my concentration. I will find you if needed.”

  Oh. Okay… I glance at Weaver to see her shrugging. Well, it’s not like I can get lost. And I am a bit interested in seeing the rest of this castle…

  “Thank you?” …That’s not supposed to be a question, Charlie.

  “It is courtesy,” Riley responds, once more fully focused on her work.

  I suppose. With one last look at the room, I decide to see if there’s a dungeon here.

  Huh. There is, but it’s mostly empty save for a for… Oh, it’s being used for storage, makes sense.

  Now fully phased out, I check–

  That’s new. Riley’s sphere just… ends. No falloff or fading, just a wall of ____. Honestly, I half expected her to look like the the aura scenes from that one movie, but other than the perfect sphere, she looks like any other pokemon.

  Maybe I should ask about aura if she’s done when I get back. Unless that’s some kind of secret? But pokemon don’t generally seem to treat things that way…

  I’ll need to think about it.

  On that note, there’s a modern castle to look around. Empty barracks, an office with a few people in it, a courtyard with an eevee, not sure what that room is, an empty mess hall… Damn. It’s one thing to hear the people at a single branch complain about staff shortages, it’s another to see a place like this with so few people. What about the tower?

  More people than before, but… still not a lot. A few pokemon, some humans with the telltale intensity of rangers, and more that are simply gray… Oh, there are a lot of people in that room. Why– Ah, that’s the machine we brought in. It, uh, looks like emotions are running high in there.

  Should I get a taste? Mmm. Hmm… I probably shouldn’t. Oh well.

  Continuing up, passing more semi-empty floors, I eventually reach where all the trees are growing out of the building. Except they aren’t trees, apparently.

  This is, without a doubt, one of the coolest places I’ve ever been. I phase in just to appreciate it.

  The top of the building is a glass dome with trellises on the outside of it mimicking trees, while inside is a large open space filled with various seats and tables, the floor’s a mix of light and dark brown tiles. It… takes me longer than it should to notice the breeze, but I spot the open– Is that a balcony? No, wait, is that a landing pad??

  This place is very stylish. Who designed it? Can I meet them?

  And where the hell is everybody?!

  ▲▲▲

  ▼▼▼

  “But it makes no sense!” Shin continues to insist. “The Friendship Blaster only works because a life, an aura, powers it!”

  None of the mechanics in the room have dared to speak against my old friend, and, in truth, for good reason. He is the only person who fully understands how his inventions work. Or at least, he was.

  “And yet,” I prompt.

  “And yet,” Shin sighs, falling into a chair, “The machine is an oversized version with no way to house life, but, from what you’ve said, the effects match… reasonably with negative broadcasting.” He rubs his temples, hands over eyes, leaning back almost far enough to fall out of his seat, “There was clearly something connected to the conduit lines, plural, yet I’ve no idea what. Yes, the generator housed inside could theoretically make up for some of the power needs, and I intend to test the mechanism with our own devices, but you can’t create emotion wholesale from nothing!”

  “I believe we were lucky there,” I muse, catching Shin’s attention as he uncovers one eye. “Miss Onaga, the ranger who found the machine, had two partners with her at the time. A dark-type and a ghost-type.”

  Shinbara leans forward, chair clattering as he moves a hand to his beard, “A type that uses emotion, and a type that eats them…” He mutters. “You’re right if that’s the case. How did the ranger brea– disable the machine?”

  “She didn’t,” I tell him, “Her partner, Misdreavus, did.” I scan down the report Holt handed to me only half an hour ago, “Onaga described the process as, and I’m quoting, ‘The pokemon glaring at the device hard enough to burn the air around it.’ And, when asked to describe in detail, ‘Black and purple wisps appeared seemingly at random around the top of the device, being somehow uncomfortable to look at.’ Again, when asked to elaborate, ‘It felt as though my eyes didn’t want to focus and my brain itched.’”

  “Wasn’t there something about the League pressuring you to let some researchers in to study the ghost?” Shin asks, standing now that he’s restless enough to go back to prodding the strange machine in the room.

  “Rowan only arrived recently, though thankfully without any incidents so far,” I confirm. “You want to know more about Misdreavus?”

  “I’d like to know what the pokemon did, exactly,” He says, poking around the blackened crater at the heart of the disassembled device again.

  I give a meaningful look in the direction of the conference room I left Miss Onaga and Riley in, knowing my partner will pick up on the sudden shift in my attention.

  “Hastings, sir?” One of the mechanics, a Mister Ambrand if I’m not mistaken, says.

  “Yes?” Shin replies, not truly paying any attention yet.

  “We, um… Could you take a look at this, please?” The man asks, gesturing to the bench he’s working at and the piece of the machine on it.

  Shinbara does so, poking at a tool on the table, then double-taking and swiftly moving back to the components on his own mobile bench.

  “That kind of tensile strength…” He mutters, now inspecting the frame of the machine more closely. “The armor must be designed to stand up to a directed effort by a pokemon, but on its own…”

  Before I can ask what he means, Riley—displaying her typical alacrity—enters the room.

  “Lu’rio,” She greets. “Cario lu lucario?”

  “Hastings was wondering what Misdreavus had said about how they ‘disabled’ his newest headache,” I answer. “It’s been long enough that I assume you already finished?”

  “Rio’lu,” she confirms, then hesitates before handing me what she wrote down, “Lucario car, rio car lu.”

  I pause halfway through taking the clipboard. “Do you think that’s true?”

  “Lu,” she says, nodding and indicating the several pages worth of guaranteed accurate testimony.

  “Shin,” I say, not at all caring we’re at work, “I think you’re about to be very happy.”

  ▲▲▲

  ▼▼▼

  “Little Ryu!” Opa greets me, having apparently been waiting outside.

  “Opa!” I return, not breaking stride until we’re hugging.

  I shouldn’t have been surprised they managed to get a rooftop condo, Oma made a lot of money during her time as a professional battle trainer.

  “Things didn’t take as long as they could have, so I’ll be headed back to Vientown,” I tell him, breaking the hug, “But I hope you were serious about dinner.”

  “Maeve would never let me get away with that,” He chuckles, moving to open the door. “I have made… soup,” He says, looking away dubiously, beckoning me inside.

  At least Weaver isn’t acting as hostile this time, even if she is watching him.

  Unsurprisingly, despite having been with us a moment ago, Misdreavus is nowhere to be seen.

  The pokemon I can see make their way inside before Opa and I follow, “Ryuko,” Oma greets a little less enthusiastically, as I find a coat hanger to hold my utility belt.

  The foyer and dining room are the same space, that’s unusual here.

  “Oma,” I smile her way. “I’m sorry I can’t stay too long, but I need to head back to Vientown soon.”

  “That’s probably for the best,” She says, standing to hug me. “Not to sound rude, but we aren’t exactly prepared to host you overnight.”

  “Yes…” Opa says, making his way to where I assume the kitchen is, “And for no other reason.”

  I don’t miss the pointed look Oma gives him, all but confirming there’s some other reason they wouldn’t want to have me stay the night as she steps away to sit down again. “How has your work been since we last saw you?” She asks, looking back at me. “I know something must have happened.”

  “Busier than I’d like,” I admit, giving her a questioning glance as I pick a seat. She nods, so I carefully set myself down. “A few incidents, early mornings and late nights.” I sigh, “I wish I could say more, but you know how it is. Maybe I could tell you about older stuff…” How was ‘active’ defined again?

  “Do you still expect things to slow down at all?” She asks.

  Not a chance, at this rate. “Maybe,” I deflect, not wanting to worry her, “It depends on what the Union does soon.”

  Oma hums, once again looking in the direction Opa went, “Well, tonight, at least, is for family.”

  I feel something soft and cold press against me and look down to see Weaver leaning into my side, uncharacteristically restrained.

  “You’re right,” I say, rubbing the base of her crest, “I need to make more time for that.”

  “That’s something I learned a long time ago,” Oma returns, resting her hands on her lap, “Life will never give you time, it only takes it. I’m sorry your father never made any for you.”

  I have to let out a bitter laugh at that, “Oh, he did. He tried to keep me from getting to the boat to the academy on time, did you know that?” I shake my head, then sigh, “I didn’t really notice it all until I was here and away.”

  “We did not either,” Opa says, entering the room with a large pot, “That is, we failed to truly see until after you had left.” Setting the pot down on a cloth, he turns around to head back, “However, you became better. Be proud.”

  I watch him go before deciding to shift the focus away from Father, “Have you heard from Uncle Finn, or my brothers at all?”

  “We wrote them that we’d finished moving and where, and gave them our new number,” Oma says, smiling, “Finnegan is working as a tournament head, now. He asked me to say hello for him. And that he’s still disappointed you never became a trainer.”

  “That’s because you let him spend too much time with Kiera,” I reply, both of us chuckling.

  “I couldn’t have–” She cuts herself off, then continues, “Well, I could have asked for a better babysitter, but between her or some of the others…”

  ▲▲▲

  ▼▼▼

  I know I’m being a bit rude right now, but it’s between that or awkward. At least I’d gotten a good view of the city before phasing out. Rooftop condo, nice place.

  I look back at everyone having dinner at the nice, if rather small, table. Weaver’s a bit subdued, and she’s been that way since we got here. It’s certainly strange to have such a clean silhouette of her. On the other hand, Espeon’s been almost ecstatic, I assume because Onaga’s so happy.

  I like that they both got chairs, despite the squeeze. Although I suppose it would be hypocritical if they didn’t.

  Onaga’s grandparents, though… Well, there isn’t really anything new compared to the last time I saw them. Maeve, the grandmother, is still a human beacon. While Liam, the zoroark, is a near-flat plane of darkness.

  I’m more interested in how he’s bending things around him. I can’t tell how he’s doing it, and I think I’m only seeing the effect, not the process. After all, all that color is coming from Maeve, not him.

  Not for the first time, Liam’s silhouette—the fox-headed one, not the warped color—turns to look at me for a moment. Yes, I know you know I’m here, I’m not exactly hiding. Or… No, I am, but I’m not putting effort into it.

  Not sure how I’d actually hide, anyway, given I don’t know how you can tell I’m here.

  He hasn’t said anything, but, since Weaver can speak here, I’d bet he can too. I still don’t know how she does that…

  Honestly, I feel a bit bad for Weaver. She has to be feeling—or forcing herself not to feel—awkward right now, and, since I don’t taste anything nasty, I’m assuming the former. I think that’s how that works?

  Now that I think of it, I should probably try to learn more… powers? Types? I don’t think they’re the same thing, but what’s the real difference?

  Back to creepily watching the proceedings. Knowing the general mood is ‘happy’ is nice. I could even hear what they’re talking about if I phased in enough, but… I think that would be creepier.

  Or, and hear me out here Charlie, you dumbass, it might make things easier between you and everyone. Wouldn’t that be a good thing?

  Maybe. But this seems like a family thing… Well, Espeon and Weaver are involved, but I repeat myself.

  …

  I’m making this harder on myself than it needs to be.

  Moving down so I’m not ominously hovering over everyone, I bring my eyes—and the rest of my senses—back into reality.

  “–ergal never was one for words,” The grandmother says. “I remember when we had to cross the Driftveil channel—the bridge hadn’t been finished yet. He didn’t say anything, he simply walked to the edge of that drop and looked back at me.” She sighs wistfully, “I hope he’s well, wherever he is.”

  Both her and Liam’s eyes move to me, and even Onaga turns around for a moment to see what they’re looking at. She looks like she wants to say something, but holds back.

  “And you would be the third partner Ryu was telling us about,” Liam says, standing as he starts to clean up. “I would have offered you a bowl, perhaps some bread, though it is a bit late for that now.”

  “I think you’re right,” Onaga regretfully agrees, looking at her watch. “We should get going before we end up needing to wait for the next train.” She pauses halfway while getting up, “When do you think we could do this again?”

  “Liam and I were planning on spending some time in Vientown around June or July,” Maeve says, giving her husband a look.

  Onaga once more hugs her grandparents, one and then the other, “That might work out, I’ll have to ask my boss about it.” Stepping back, she takes a moment to re-equip herself, “Thank you, again, for doing this.”

  The exchange of pleasantries continues for maybe a bit too long before We all head out the door–

  A blinking red sign appears in front of me, changing into a pointing hand. Looking past it, no one else has stopped. Well, there can only be one source for this.

  Rotating to look back, I consider ignoring it for a moment. I don’t know why I’m being asked to go back, but, on the other hand, this might be the best chance I get to ask the zoroark about illusions.

  …Why not? I can catch up to Onaga easily enough.

  Entering through the wall, I see Maeve still sitting at the table. She spots me, then shakes her head ruefully, “Liam…” she says in a warning tone.

  “Consider it for my peace of mind,” A very different voice says, its owner almost seeming to melt through where the door is. He looks… a lot like I remember the game sprite. Black and red, massive hair. …Six feet tall.

  “This is about the faller, is it?” Maeve asks. ‘The faller’? And what’s with her voice all of a sudden?

  The large fox shakes his head, then points at me, “It’s because they’re here, now.”

  Wait…

  “Liam.”

  “I investigated around that forest,” The zoroark defends himself. “There were no new humans that anyone could recall, but,” He once more gestures at me, “There was a new resident relatively around where the event had to have been. Also, look at their reaction.”

  He can’t mean…

  Maeve sighs, looking at me, “I’m sorry for my husband’s antics.” Then to Liam, “We agreed to no more shenanigans.”

  “That’s why I need to know.”

  “Wh– What is happening right now?” I finally manage to speak up. “Are you saying that people just… appearing here is normal?!”

  “Now look at what you’ve done, dear,” The elderly woman says before turning back to me, “For a certain definition of normal, it is,” She softly tells me. “I think what Liam wants to know, however, is whether you were given a purpose when it happened.”

  “How would I know!” …Okay, calm down. “I– I died and then I was here. And I’ve been wondering if there was a reason or if it just happened and how my family is doing or if I’d see my friends–”

  “I think that’s enough,” The woman says, halting my rambling, and I can tell she’s putting as much ‘grandma’ into it as she can. And there’s definitely something different about her words… “You poor dear,” She pauses for a moment, exchanging a look with the fox as he nods ashamedly, “I won’t be the one to apologize for Liam, merely to say it’s a trait his kind share.”

  “I was simply worried for Maeve and Ryuko,” The fox says, bowing his head, “I’m sorry I brought you distress in the process. If there’s something I can do to make it right, simply ask.”

  I… Is… What– “Answers,” I reply. No! Say more idiot! “I have some questions.”

  Discord, so pick neither, one, or both at your discretion.