“What are you going to do?” I asked, watching as the crystal that immobilized Frizzy Detective slowly dissolved. “Put a slug in him?”

  “A demonstration as I’ve said.” Mark waved at one of his assistants, who then brought over a small canister. It hissed as a piece of its metallic surface slid up to reveal a glass cover underneath. The glass allowed a view inside the container—a big fat wriggling slug “Do you have any objections?”

  “Not really. I don’t even know him. So… yeah…. How are you so sure this guy isn’t one of Pando’s hivemind thingies? Your clients are certainly not Pando because they’re Adumbrae. But this guy and all the other people your clients hunt are normal humans. These employees of yours as well. Don’t tell me that you read the minds of each one of them?”

  “Well, not me, personally,” Mark saved, chuckling as he approached Frizzy Detective. “We have someone assigned to that duty.”

  “Oh, that’s right,” I said, recalling something Bianca told me before. Vanessa might’ve mentioned it too. “You have an Adumbrae that wipes out memories. I’m guessing he’s also responsible for filtering out Pando. So, has he caught anyone before?”

  “No. Pando has very little reach at present—a small fraction of a percent of the entire population of the world. In fact, during all our tests of the XR-Series, including the—”

  “The freaking attack on my condo,” I interjected.

  “Yes, that’s right. As well as releasing the XR-Series at various points in the city, infecting a few thousand, we only found six individuals that died without succumbing to mutations. Extensive testing of their brains, including hiring an Adumbrae with pseudo-necromancy abilities, confirmed that they used to be Pando.”

  “Six out of thousands? I don’t want to do the math, but you really weren’t kidding it’s a tiny, tiny percent. Like, that’s over several decades. There’s no danger, is there? Even if Pando’s possessions rate, or whatever you call it, increases daily, it doesn’t seem to be much. Will probably be like a few centuries or so before Pando can get ten percent of humanity. I mean, humans continue to multiply.”

  “And in a few centuries, you’ll still be alive,” Mark said, standing next to Frizzy Detective, who was slumped over the remaining crystal that encased his lower body.

  “Groargh kroah…?” I growled in question, my brain pausing at the thought I never once had.

  “I’ll still be alive…?” Wormy Two translated.

  “Well, if you continue to survive,” Mark said, “then you’ll still be alive in, let’s say, three hundred years. What did you think would happen? You’re no longer aging. Your body doesn’t fall ill and regenerates the most fatal of injuries so long as your brain and spine are intact. You are not going to suddenly die when you reach, I don’t know, the average life expectancy of the USA.”

  “Yeah, I guess I’m immortal.” I hadn’t thought of living forever before. I never craved it like many other people. Sounded boring. Like, after a century, I’d probably get tired of Earth already.

  “Have you seriously not considered immortality after you became an Adumbrae?” Mark laughed as if I told the funniest joke he had ever heard. The canister shook, the slug inside hitting the glass. “Then consider it now, Erind Hartwell. After this ‘few centuries or so’ of yours have passed, one in ten people will be Pando. Are you fine with that? Another century and it could be two out of ten people as Pando’s powers continue to grow.”

  “That’ll be weird, I admit. So, you’re preparing now for the future? I kind of suck with thinking long-term.”

  “Unnecessary to think that far ahead,” said Mark. “Given our very small sample size of a few thousand, we can say for the sake of an example that Pando is one in every thousand people. Realize that this is a substantial reach of influence, four million people across the world. Believe me when I say that several Pandos are in positions of power, both in the public and private sectors. A number of our elected officials are Pando. This is how the Corebrings control the world. It will only get worse as years pass.

  “But if we succeed, we’ll give power to humans… the power to stand for ourselves. We can fight both Adumbrae and Corebrings with our superpowers. We’ll unite against a common enemy. Enemies. And we’ll live forever. No more deaths, diseases, and suffering. A new age for humanity.”

  I snorted. “No way humans can achieve that fanciful utopia of yours.”

  “Perhaps not. But we cannot try if we’re under the control of the Corebring.” Mark nodded down at Frizzy Detective. “Time isn’t on our side. Look, your friend is awakening. Let us ask for his thoughts, shall we? Perhaps they can help shape your own.”

  “Wha-what’s going on?” Frizzy Detective groggily asked as he pushed himself upright. Only his upper body was free. He pounded his fists at the crystal trapping his legs. “The hell is—?” He looked around and spotted us, his face turning pale. I could guess what was going on in his mind. He weakly chuckled. “Okay, I’m not supposed to be part of this meeting of yours. If you’ll let me go, I won’t tell a soul about—hey, what’s that? Don’t bring that near me!”

  Mark pushed a button on the canister. Its glass cover shifted open. The slug inside the canister partially exited the canister. Half of its body wriggled in the air; the other half was still held back by wires.

  “I’ll join you!” Frizzy Detective shouted. This guy was really interesting, shifting from standing resolute against the face of death, and then desperately trying to find a way to leave. “I can be your henchman. I don’t need to be turned into a monst—an Adumbrae, right? I’m sure you have regular guys for regular jobs.”

  “Unfortunately, our spots are filled up,” Mark said. “But there’s no cause for worry. This is a ZY-09 parasite—I suppose, I shouldn’t call it that. Gives a negative air. This ZY-09 organism can grant you rapid regeneration, super strength, and other superpowers.”

  “And turn me into that!” Frizzy Detective pointed at the monsterified woman in the first container. “No way. Just kill me!” Here he was again with his flip-flopping stance.

  “Calm down, young man,” said Mark. “You would retain your human form if you kept your wits about you.” He moved closer, raising the canister with the slug.

  Frizzy Detective closed his mouth and eyes and covered his ears with his hands. He realized what would happen next.

  Mark clicked his tongue. “You shouldn’t have freed his arms.”

  “I’m sorry, boss,” said one of the Adumbrae goons. He pulled Frizzy Detective’s arms behind him and locked them in place with one hand. With his other hand, the Adumbrae grabbed Frizzy Detective’s frizzy hair and pulled back his head.

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  “Please… let me go,” Frizzy Detective cried. Then his face twisted in anger. “Just kill me!”

  “How is this supposed to convince me to join you?” I asked.

  “Wait for the results afterward.” Mark pressed a button on the canister.

  The wires wrapped around the slugs receded like strands of spaghetti slurped by a very hungry person. The slug jumped out of the canister and onto Frizzy Detective’s face. He wildly swung his head, as if he was headbanging at a rock concert. But no matter his efforts, the slug stayed stuck on his cheek. He didn’t scream or else it’d go inside his mouth. Looking for another opening, the slug went for Frizzy Detective’s ear. It had to squeeze down its chubby body to enter the narrow hole of the ear.

  And now, Frizzy Detective screamed. “Argh! Kill me! Fucking kill me, you cowards!”

  “This seems painful,” I commented.

  “I wouldn’t know,” Mark said with a sly smile, “because I’ve never tried.”

  Frizzy Detective stopped thrashing about. He stared blank-eyed at the field of grass in front of him, a bit of drool running down the side of his mouth. The Adumbrae holding Frizzy Detective let him go. Frizzy Detective continued to gaze at nothing.

  I sniffed the air but couldn’t detect that disgusting smell of the zombies the parasites made. This really was a new version. “What now?”

  When I first encountered a zombie parasite, I had just transformed into Pino. Through the weird vision of that face, I saw wriggling parasites inside the brains of people. It didn’t take long until they’d start mutating into something monstrous. For most of them, the slugs would consume the entire head, replacing it with a creature with many tendrils—this was the fodder-level mutation. Others would have a more coherent transformation into a unique monster likely tied to a person’s personality. Those probably had more chances of becoming an Adumbrae.

  “We wait,” Mark said, backing away. Tracksuit Man stepped forward to guard him in case Frizzy Detective went wild.

  Frizzy Detective suddenly went limp and crumpled forward, prevented from toppling by the crystal around his legs. Mark and Tracksuit Man looked at each other in confusion. This probably didn’t happen with their other tests using the fancy new slug breed. Frizzy Detective didn’t move. All of his muscles relaxed. Even his heart. I couldn’t hear it beating.

  I also couldn’t hear him breathing. I couldn’t sense blood flowing through his veins, and that familiar smell of life left him. “This guy’s dead,” I said. “The parasite inside him too.”

  “Are you sure?” Tracksuit Man demanded.

  I was surprised to hear him speak because he had been silent during my conversation with Mark. And gone was the assuredness and confidence in his voice. There was a hint of panic. His heart beat faster as his muscles tensed.

  “Yes, he is,” I said. “Check for yourself.”

  But none of them did. Both Mark and Tracksuit Man were shouting. The other Adumbrae formed a circle around the dead Frizzy Detective but didn’t touch him.

  “Mister, where are you?” Mark barked into his phone. “I told you to stay nearby. Come quickly. Yes, it’s an emergency!”

  “Prepare evacuation protocols,” Tracksuit Man said to his watch that seemed to also be a radio. “This is not a drill. I repeat: this is not a drill. Close the portals to Yellow Island. Tell Red Island to be on full alert. Standby for further instructions.”

  “What’s going on?” I loudly growled. Wormy Two also copied my volume. “Are we under attack?”

  There was a faint siren in the distance. More alarms. The hair on my arms stood on end as a ‘wave’ of something washed over us. Did it have something to do with their teleportation shenanigans?

  Guests in the nearby buildings who were watching us went inside their rooms. Mark’s attendants hurriedly wheeled away the canisters with test subjects. Out of the trees ringing the clearing appeared a short old man, running faster than an Olympic sprinter. An Adumbrae, my senses confirmed to me, if it wasn’t already obvious.

  Marathon Geezer also looked familiar. I must’ve fought him somewhere before since he was Mark’s minion.

  “Wait, are you guys worried that this is Pando?” I asked Mark and Tracksuit Man. “You mentioned that Pando-controlled people can’t be taken over by the parasite because their brains already have an occupant. They just fall dead. But Frizzy—I mean, this guy can’t be Pando because you’ve scanned his brain before bringing him here.”

  “That is the case, Erind Hartwell,” Mark said. “But there is a very slim possibility of slipping through our security.”

  I blinked, wondering what that possibility was. “Don’t tell me… he became Pando after he was scanned and brought to Blue Island? What are the chances of that?”

  “Very low, Erind Hartwell,” said Mark. “The same chance of me or my human employees becoming Pando. We have security measures for that, of course. Yes. Even for me. But this man isn’t part of that. It might prove a huge blunder on my part ordering Teruna to bring someone along to use for a demonstration.”

  Marathon Geezer reached us. He shot me a furious look but didn’t say anything. We definitely have met before. He unpacked a machine slung over his shoulder.

  “Your several seconds of delay might cost us, Mister,” Mark said. “As discussed, this individual died after receiving the ZY-09 parasite.”

  “Child,” Marathon Geezer said through clenched teeth. “Don’t call my child a parasite.” He pulled two sharp probes out of the machine he brought and stabbed them into the sides of Frizzy Detective’s head. The outer ends of the probes began glowing as the machine displayed gibberish data on its screen.

  “Apologies, Mister,” Mark told Marathon Geezer. “What are your readings?”

  “Give me a few more seconds. This could be an incompatibility issue. My newest batch of children have problems I need to iron out.”

  “A few more seconds,” Mark echoed. “And then we can decide if it is truly time to panic.”

  “I don’t get it,” I said, annoyed that I was ignored. I was supposed to be the star of the show. Everyone’s attention was on me as I came to attack Red Island. Now, I was getting overshadowed by a random side character who died not even an episode after appearing. “So, what if he’s Pando? He doesn’t know where this place is, with all the secrecy and teleportation crap. Like, what can the Corebring do with this dead guy?”

  “Plenty, Erind Hartwell,” said Mark. “Plenty that we can’t even fathom. It is best that we analyze this corpse if they are indeed—what?”

  A hand came out of Frizzy Detective’s mouth and grabbed Marathon Geezer’s throat.

  “Argh!” Marathon Geezer tried to pull away but couldn’t. He punched the arm choking him. His Adumbrae strength couldn’t do anything. The bones of his fingers cracked and his wrist bent.

  The other Adumbrae had already reacted. One grabbed Mark and ran toward where I came from after getting teleported here. Strings Woman unfurled her sharp strings and tried to cut the odd hand to no avail. The strings couldn’t even scratch the mysterious arm.

  “Hgraah?” I yelped. The fuck? Wormy Two couldn’t translate my exclamation of surprise because Tracksuit Man had dropped it on the ground. “Grwaa roargh?” Is that a Corebring?

  “Code Red!” Tracksuit Man yelled. He grabbed Marathon Geezer and forcefully pulled him from the presumably Corebring arm, tearing off a chunk of his throat in the process. “Code Red! Evacuate Green Island! Corebrings have infiltrated.”

  As a wounded Marathon Geezer clutched his throat, Tracksuit Man stomped the ground. His foot sunk several inches deep into the soil. The earth quaked as a fissure started to open from Tracksuit’s Man foot. The large crack swallowed the crystal, Frizzy Detective’s corpse, and the weird hand sticking out of it. Tracksuit Man pulled his foot out of the ground and the hole closed.

  “Are you coming?” he asked, looking at me. “I doubt you want to stay here.”

  I nodded. Fighting a Corebring sounded fun, but now probably wasn’t the time to try it.

  We chased after the other Adumbrae guarding Mark.

  Moreover, especially a huge thank you to our Purple Bloom tier supporters, Neoxym and Karp Paul!