Ducking underneath the open flap of a DME med-tent, I searched the room. Almost immediately, I locked onto Max and Deimos.

  Max looked over to me with a tired smile, “Oh… H-Hey, Lucas.”

  It was silent for an ephemeral moment. Tension hung heavy in the air. Then I kind of ruined it by giving Max a hug. Not my usual M.O. but what’re you going do about it, right?

  Max was frozen while I hugged him before he carefully returned it.

  After a short moment, I released him. No, my eyes weren’t wet! Your’s are! Shut up!

  “Glad you’re feeling better.” I smiled, rubbing away at the dust in my eyes. Just couldn’t seem to get it out.

  He smiled warmly, “Th-thanks, Lucas. So am I.”

  We both chuckled at the awkward moment. Deimos put a comforting hand on Max’'s shoulder. While he did that, though, he shot a glance my way. I felt sobered and gave a miniscule nod.

  Deimos looked down at Max, “I’m going to go check with Anna to see when you can leave. Lucas, want to come with?”

  “Sure.” I said, the smile fading away. I looked back at Max, “Be back in a sec.”

  He nodded and we went on our way. Deftly evading a gaggle of nurses fussing over what I could only assume was a decapitated mummy coming back to life, we hurried along to Anna. When we got to her, she looked up from her clipboard. Next to her was… Goddamnit.

  “Well, well, if it isn’t our favorite wage slave?” Dr. Whitaker grinned. His grin was like looking at Satan’s asshole. Unpleasant, terrifying, and pure evil.

  “Oh. Yeah, yeah, great to see you too, Dr. Whitaker.” I grimaced, suppressing the need to break his stupid fucking nose.

  He just laughed. He could see my anger. And he laughed.

  I don’t know how, but I grimaced harder. I felt like a clown with a degree in performing arts. Just what has my life come to?

  “Mind telling us when Max is well enough to leave?” I asked through gritted teeth.

  His evil, stupid, fucking grin just grew as he took a sip of coffee. It was as black and bitter as his filthy soul, “Sure, sure. Don’t worry about it. It won’t cost you a cent. Probably.”

  I felt a vein bulge.

  He flicked through his clipboard’s papers, “Max, you say… Oh, your friend Maximillian Wells, yeah? Hm… Everything looks alright. He should be good to go in about a day or so.”

  I grumbled a bitter thanks and stormed back to Max. Need me a dose of sad boi. Telling him what Dr. Whitaker said, he nodded, “O-Okay. I guess… I guess you should head off now, right?”

  I wanted to ask him about what we found in his apartment, but… A quick glance to the left showed a throng of DME medics. To the right was an intimidating squad of guards that watched over the tent with an oppressive presence. Looking back to Max, he was also clearly not in the right condition for a confrontation of any kind. He was still tired, the skin beneath his eyes dark. I’d wait for him to recover first.

  “Yeah. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

  He nodded and I offered a smirk. Turning away on my heel, Deimos got up to follow me. We had driven here to do another report, so Deimos and I wound up back at his car, so he could drive us back.

  “You need to find your own ride.”

  “I knowwww.” I groaned, hopping in the passenger’s seat.

  There was silence between us, the only noise being that of the radio. Deimos turned it down and asked me something.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Huh?” I responded lamely, looking up from the window where I was just spacing out.

  “Are you okay?” He repeated, “Back home, I saw you on the couch. How many gigs did you take on? You even got your star rating up; sure, it was from one point five to two, but still! You need to… I don’t know. Talk about it?”

  I looked at him as he pointedly looked away, a slight flush to his almond skin. I smirked.

  “I think I’m alright. Just needed to vent a bit. Turns out? Punching stuff until you feel better is fun.”

  He snorted and I continued, “Thanks for the offer to talk. I’m gonna have to turn you down, but I appreciate it nonetheless. Though, instead of talking, I’m thinking of taking on some more bounties today. Wanna come with?”

  He looked over at me, one eyebrow raised, “You know what? Sure. I think it would be good if I vented a little too.”

  We stopped by the dorms to gear up and went to the Bounty Hunters’ Office.

  “That’ll do it.” Deimos muttered, clicking magic-suppressing cuffs onto the hands of one of our bounties.

  “LET ME GO, DAMNIT!” The man yelled, still trying to fight back. Deimos whipped out with his baton and cracked it against the man’s chin, sending him to the floor unconscious.

  “I’ll get his legs. You wanna take the arms?” I asked, already lifting the man by the feet.

  Deimos nodded before we proceeded with the careful balancing act that was carrying an unconscious man on two separate hoverboards. We fumbled around, making sure not to drift too far apart and accidentally rip the guy in two, and then we raced back to the Office.

  By now, whenever I walked in, I didn’t receive the glares of the grizzled veterans or feel the pressure that came from the ill-mannered staff. The ribaldry of my fellow Bounty Hunters no longer felt like solecisms, simply the way things were. I was no longer an outsider posing as one of them. I came by regularly, I completed most of my jobs, and I had the same attitude of wishing everyone else would piss off as they all did. I was a Bounty Hunter. A professional.

  Throwing the still-unconscious man on the counter and receiving payment, Deimos and I rode back to the dorms. The sun had set a while back, and it was about time we returned home. Looking down, I knew I needed a shower. A long, skin-scaldingly hot one.

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  Deimos hadn’t fared much better. We were both caked head-to-toe in filth. The mixture of blood from when we beat one of our bounties had turned into a rancid mud. Plus, my armor was starting to show the wear and tear of constant fighting, and I knew I’d need to upgrade soon.

  Before we did, though, we stopped by Max’s apartment. When we went inside, the cat was still there, draping itself over the arm of the couch. We refilled her food and water before quickly leaving. Max said she needed help, but I guess he meant she just needed to be fed. I wouldn’t have drawn the connection if not for Deimos suggesting it.

  Arriving back at the dorms, Anna was also there. She looked just as exhausted as us, and we shared a tired grunt of greeting before retreating to our dorms. I flopped on the couch, proceeded to be thrown off by Deimos because I was still filthy, and waited while he claimed first-dibs in the shower.

  Settling on the tile where I wouldn’t stain any soft fabrics, my mind drifted to my inner self. The dark recesses of my mind were opened to watch my magic continue their ever-continuing battle. Coming back to myself, I sat around on the tile before coming to the conclusion that I was, extremely, bored.

  There was nothing to do!

  You know… I really didn’t have many hobbies. I watched tv, played video games, and the rest of my time was work, work, work! I did exercise, which I guess is a hobby, but I was too exhausted to even consider the option. The only time, and way, I could game was when I was at Anna’s; I didn’t really feel like watching trash tv right now.

  Most kids grow up surrounded by opportunities to find their interests, but I grew up stealing to eat! I mean, I did enjoy theft, but I was trying to get out of the habit of being a kleptomaniac. With my fresh start as a Bounty Hunter, I wanted to work on the right side of the law for once! Or, at least, the morally and legally gray middle zone of Bounty Hunting.

  With a heavy sigh at the realization I knew jack and squat about myself, I began fiddling with my torn up armor. Yeah, this wasn’t safe to use anymore. There were now gaping holes in key pieces of the armor. The chest piece was little more than a waiting invitation to skewer me, and the limbs too looked ragged. The left leg was a few puny shreds held together by little more than elbow grease and wishes. The other limbs held up better, but I’d still prefer more vital parts of me to be covered. I would happily trade a severed arm for an intact heart.

  Whisked away from my tired ponderings when Deimos left the bathroom, I trudged into it. The hot water on my skin was heavenly. Dried blood and grime was scraped and washed away by the steaming water and I basked in the heat for far longer than was necessary. When I left, Deimos was draped over the kitchen chair.

  Yeah, cheers to that.

  “Well, you’re all set, kid.” Dr. Whitaker said to Max. It was still pretty early in the morning and the circles under his eyes were somehow darker than normal. Guy looked like a panda with a mortgage.

  “A-Alright.” Max mumbled, shoulders bunched up and not making eye contact with Whitaker. I get it. The guy scares me too.

  As we walked away, I smirked at him, “So, now that you’re out, want to grab some food?”

  He perked up and his stress melted away, “S-Sure!”

  I shared a glance with Deimos. We made a plan to get him to privacy for the confrontation, and I could feel the stress welling in my gut. Focus. Stick to the plan, hide behind a mask, and make it through.

  The three of us went browsing over the food trucks and stalls put up throughout the street. Apparently, there used to be less of them in the past, but when monsters started evolving, less natural food became available. Nearly all of the stuff on the market, from an apple to a steak, is now grown in the food production plants that replaced farms. Most people couldn’t keep up with the rapid shift in availability and quality of certain foods, but the people who could adapt started capitalizing on it by becoming street vendors. As the business became a better cash cow for them, others started imitating the practice, and now, the skill of cooking has become increasingly scarce in domestic settings. Most people buy street food or get something pre-made and packaged to heat up. The fact that most people I know and associate with daily can both cook and choose to do it regularly is pretty uncommon. Though, they are all part of the upper crust, and that is the kind of esoteric hobby I’d expect from the wealthy.

  Grabbing some meat skewers, I led our trio down an alley and to a spot where people wouldn’t mind criminal activity much. When we first started down this path, Max didn’t seem to mind, or even notice, but I could see him becoming more and more concerned. Deimos kept trying to ease him while sending me glances that screamed ”hurry!”

  There’s only so fast I can get us somewhere! Geez.

  Walking into a dimly lit roundabout in the center of a block of buildings. The entire place smelled like piss and bad beer, the noisome odors so thick you could taste it. While Max and Deimos’ faces were both scrunched up, I took a deep, unfettered breath. Other shady figures stood near the exits dealing in whatever illicit businesses they had, and I yanked my friends into similar positions.

  “No one will care about what happens here.” I crossed my arms and shot a look at Deimos.

  “Right.” He said despite sending suspicious glances over his shoulder, “Max, how much do you remember from when you were first being worked on by the medics?”

  He looked between us, panicked at the situation, “I-I, uh, not much? Um, why?”

  I stared at his expression for a while before deeming he was honest. I didn’t think he’d lie, but I had to make sure, “You told us someone needed help. Then, you gave me an address and this key.”

  I pulled out the key to his home and dangled it in front of him.

  I pang of panic shot through his features.

  Swallowing hard, he shook as he asked, “D-D-Did you… go i-inside?”

  “We did, Max. Listen, we’re not here to-” Deimos began but was cut off as Max backed against the wall and began breathing heavily.

  “No, please, please, wait.” He panted out, eyes flitting between Deimos and I rapidly, “No, no, no, no, I-I can explain! I-”

  “Max, it’s okay.” I told him firmly, hand raised to put on his shoulder. He flinched away nearly instantly and began crying.

  “Please, I just wanted to help! She was a-alone a-a-and I-I.” He choked up, sliding down the wall and pressing himself against it and away from us. He shook like a leaf in the wind and looked just as fragile. “This can’t- I’m just- I- is she okay? D-Do, oh God, do others know? Is Enpi okay!? I just, no. no, no, NO!”

  A pool of ink shot out from under him, geometric lines tracing inside it, the image it formed too large to see from our angle. Deimos and I tried to jump back, but our feet were stuck there. The ink held onto us like a web and a fly. More ink spilled from Max’s feet as it pushed us away and began tracing more runes that formed towering tentacles.

  Deimos’ eyes flashed teal before copies of him formed in a sudden puff of fog. More tentacles appeared and began attacking at the copies. Deimos winced at the waste of magic before inhaling deeply and breathing out. The entirety of his eyes were covered in a glow of cyan as more copies than I could count formed.

  As the tentacles attacked each of the copies, they soon all became occupied. Deimos shouted out, “Quick, get to him! I can’t do this for too long!”

  Not wasting time to respond, I sent light coursing through my veins. My shoes were ripped off my feet, though it’s more accurate to say I was ripped from them, and I launched high over the inky mess below. Still, even with my magic sending me hurtling through the air, the inexorable pull of gravity led to a gradual descent to the ground. If I landed on the ink, I’d need to find another article of clothing to abandon. I knew I only had so many layers before my skin was the thing that would get caught, and my eyes searched desperately for a solution.

  A response from inside of me came.

  A foot-sized platform of shadows shot out from below me, and my eyes locked down on it. Using my magic to send me veering towards it, when I landed, I pushed off from the platform, and then another and another. Shadows rose to assist my sprint and I sent an internal thanks towards my magic.

  With one final leap, I shot high into the air above Max. Inky tentacles launched upwards, and I had my light magic push me away from the incoming attacks. A forest of them rose to stop me, but my own shadowy tentacles wrapped around them and pulled them aside. In a flash of light like a bolt of lighting from the clouds, I slammed down into the ink-free circle Max sat in. He was in the fetal position, propped against the wall, arms held firmly around his knees, and his shoulders shook. I let my magic dissipate as I put one hand on the back of his head and the other around his back. I pulled him into a hug, his knees jabbing into my ribs.

  “It’s okay, Max. You aren’t in trouble. We aren’t angry or here to arrest you or anything. We’re alright. The cat’s doing well. We fed her, don’t worry. Things are fine. You’re gonna be okay.”

  He still trembled, his body doing a great impression of a phone on vibrate, but the structures of ink stilled in their shifting. Slowly, they melted away into pools of ink. Then, those pools shrunk and shrunk until they disappeared, the last remnants of them not even leaving behind stains on the ground. Still stained our clothes though. Stupid magic rules not making us magically clean.

  I’m not sure when, but Deimos eventually came over and placed his hand on Max’s shoulder.

  The three of us stayed like that for a while, the remnants of our lunch having been thoroughly eviscerated next to us.