"I'm Eryk, nice to meet you," I said, extending my hand and smiling as harmlessly as possible.

The creature is perfectly still. Do they need to breathe? They aren't really alive, if Rorschach's power is an indicator of how Ruler's creations work. The fact that the creature is talking does cement the fact that the Neuvohuman is a Ruler. The categories of Neuvohumans are helpful, but all they really do is give you a rough idea of what kind of power they might have. Tuesday and Miles are both Manipulators, but their powers have nothing in common. The creature extends one of its arms to me, and we have one of the most terrible handshakes I've ever been a part of.

"Emma," it answered.

"How are you, Emma?"

"What? What do you mean?" Emma stuttered.

"The powers out everywhere. I've been trapped in this store alone for three or four days, and I've been cold so long my hands are numb," I said, lowering my voice a bit. "I don't know how long you've been stuck here, but it's much longer than me, obviously. So, I was wondering where your head was at, with all of this."

Will this work on her? Seconds turn to minutes, and I'm starting to wonder if I messed up.

"It's been tough. I've been feeling very lonely since this all started, not that I wasn't before all this. But triggering made everything so much worse; being the only one with powers in a small town like this is just trouble. I didn't know what I was doing at first; it was a mistake. It was all a mistake," she said, whispering the last word.

She's very vulnerable right now. Perfect for me. Raise cheeks, purse my lips, tilt my head slightly. Wait patiently, like I'm struggling to find the words for a situation she believes is so novel that no one has ever gone through it. Unless you're a legacy, your Trigger Event is one of, if not the worst day of your life. I almost died during mine. I let the silence stretch out a little longer before responding.

"I believe you."

"You do?" Emma asked, the fragility in her voice transmitting through the shadow.

"My Trigger Event was the worst day of my life because I lost one of my best friends. Watching the light leave his eyes, being forced to leave him behind was a decision I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. I carry the weight of that with me every day. That's the problem with these powers that are born out of tragedy: they only seem to cause more."

"How do you live with it? How can you keep your head above the water when everything goes to hell?"

Conversing with the shadow monster is difficult for me. There aren't any indicators of Emma's mood or intentions for me to read. The monster doesn't have human features for me to watch obsessively. Difficult doesn't mean impossible, and I'm starting to get an idea of who Emma is. She's young, probably between sixteen and nineteen, very susceptible to outside influences, and emotionally stunted. Whether it's from trauma or she was always like this is a coin toss. She reminds me of Maria. Someone born hollow who will do anything to fill the void inside them. I'm self-aware enough to know I fit the description as well. Unlike them, I don't try to force other people to give me substance. I take it from them. I would never beg someone for purpose.

"By living every day to its fullest so that his sacrifice wasn't in vain. Don't get me wrong, there are days when I wake up and the dark waters are choppy and I struggle not to drown. But I fight against the current and take it one day at a time. Eventually, the bad days become less common until the good ones outnumber them," I answered.

Her mouthpiece doesn't respond, staying still as a statue. Did I overdo it? I still have my knife and flashlight if this goes sideways, but victory isn't a foregone conclusion. Getting out of here without having to fight is the goal. The shadow clenches its fingers, opening and closing them slowly.

"Emma, are you there?"

"Sorry," Emma apologized, the monster wiping at its face with its arms. "Would you want to continue this conversation somewhere warmer?"

I got you.

"I would like that," I laughed.

"Follow me," Emma said, turning around.

"Wait, let me grab my bag," I said hastily.

The shadow monster leads me out a back door of the store I hadn't found in my searches. Out into the storm I go again. Reactivating my helmet keeps the worst of the cold from my head at least. Making contact with the person behind the shadows is the best-case scenario. If she hasn't already killed the others, I can use her to collect them and their powers. I probably can't kill them all without raising suspicion that it wasn't on purpose. I need plausible deniability for when Technologica sends Waters to pick us up. She might not think much of me, but she'll know I had something to do with it if they all perish during the mission.

The freezing wind is howling as we emerge into the back street. Even with my helmet's night vision, I can barely see my hands in front of my face. Emma keeps her shadow monster close to me as we trudge through snow that's above my knee. Her creature is walking on its long arms, the stumpy legs swinging above the snow. My backpack is being battered and constantly shifted by the wind. It takes so much effort to rip my legs out of the snow just to plunge back into it. I hate this.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

The creature leads me through the blizzard and out of the town center, eventually arriving in front of a gated ranch-style house. It pushes open the gate, and I stumble as I go to step through it. The yard is completely free of any snow beyond a light dusting from what is falling now. The sudden change in elevation surprised the hell out of me. Did she just shovel the yard for my arrival? Lights flash on, destroying the frigid darkness. So she has generators and is using them for me.

If she doesn't have the others inside, then it won't be long until they arrive. This home is a beacon amongst the dark, wintery town, like a lighthouse piercing through the thick fog hovering over the sea. Forty-four should be able to get here without much trouble if he's alive. And he should be. He's a strong little bastard, and Nine's no slouch either. My long-armed guide scuttles over to the door, opening it for me. The inside is well lit and warm, and after so many days of cold, dark gray, it's a welcome change. I wipe my boots off on the mat, but my pants and hoodie are soaked after the trip here. Carefully setting my bag down off to the side, I take the windbreaker off first, then the hoodie. Taking off my pants might give the wrong idea, so I'll just have to deal with the uncomfortable feeling for now. The door shuts behind me, and I don't see any other shadow monsters around.

"Hey, Eryk," Emma said, coming around the corner to the hallway.

Emma's wearing flannel pajamas, an oversized sweater that says Nestor Falls on it, and a pair of slippers. I was right. She's petite, her clothes making her look even smaller. She is about as tall as my chest, and I could probably rest my chin on her head. Platinum blonde hair in a wolf cut, with the ends dyed red. There are deep black circles under her eyes. When was the last time you slept? She looks about my age, but you never know. Emma rubs her arm with her hand, clearly nervous about meeting me. I pop my helmet off before I address her.

"Hi, Emma, it's nice to meet you," I smiled, exaggerating it to the point of looking dorky.

She bites her lip, but bursts into laughter a second later. I walk over to her, and she doesn't move away. I can tell from the way she looks at me what she thinks of me up close. I don't blame her. I'm objectively handsome. Pulling her into a hug, I hold her tightly. Just like Maria. She hugs me back, clutching the back of my shirt. How long has she been alone like this? If Technologica had never found out about her creatures would she have just lived here by herself until she eventually passed?

"I know," I whispered into the top of her head as she sobbed in my shirt. "Let it out, let it all out. It's going to be okay now."

The two of us are inside the living room now. She cried for so long that my shirt ended up as wet as my pants. Underneath several blankets and with two space heaters going, I'm finally beginning to warm up. We're on opposite couches, and that isn't accidental. That's a mistake I made before, never again. She's older than me by a year, but her emotional intelligence is nearly nonexistent. Emma's holding her knees against her chest, staring blankly at me with her eyes grayed out. When she does that, it means she's directly controlling one of her monsters. I could slit her throat while she's spacing out. Will that destroy her creatures or just make them run wild? Emma shakes her head a few times, the color returning to her eyes.

"Sorry about that," she apologized.

"Don't be. You don't know how happy I am to be out of the cold."

"You don't know how happy I am to have someone to talk to. Thanks for earlier, I don't think I realized how long it's been since someone touched me. Sorry about your shirt," Emma said.

"Don't be; it's no big deal. But how long have you been alone here?" I asked.

"Six months," she answered quietly.

Six months?

"Emma, I don't want to pry, but what happened?"

"It's okay, I don't mind telling you. My trigger event came about from an argument I had with my boyfriend, Ryan. Ryan isn't, wasn't a nice guy. I realize that now. Controlling, mean, and sometimes he'd get so angry at me, I was afraid he'd hit me. He didn't; he never hit me until he did. He was mad about his job, and I tried to comfort him. Ryan hated anyone trying to sympathize with him. He always felt like they were looking down on him. He reacted about as well as you think he would, and the next thing I know, he's kicking me in my stomach over and over while I'm on the floor. He got on top of me, wrapped his hands around my neck, and started to strangle me. I triggered and killed him in the process. My power isn't a good thing; it's a virus. It turns people I kill into shadowspawn, and if one of them kills something, it transforms them too. I can control them, but only when I'm awake. If I fall asleep, they're free to do whatever they want. By the time I woke up from Ryan's beating, half the town had been killed," Emma cried.

Oh. OH. That is a very dangerous power. She killed four hundred people. Not having control of your power is rough, especially when that results in so much death. I could help her, save her from this curse of hers. A plan is forming in my head. One that lets me get everything I wanted and more. Emma is full-on sobbing again. For this to work, I'm going to have to do something I'd rather not. This can end with a good memory for her. I get up from under the blankets and make my way over to the couch she's sitting on and sit next to her. I wrap my arms around her again.

"I'm sorry you've been holding on to this for so long. I can't imagine what you're going through," I said, kissing the top of her head. She stiffens at the kiss, but doesn't move away. "But I have a way to free you from all of this; I can take away your curse forever. I just need your help with those people who forced me to come here. We can help each other be free. We can both leave behind the mistakes and the bad memories."

Emma pulls her head away from my chest. She stares at my face, searching for any signs that I might be lying. You won't find anything, Emma. No one learns about Nobody unless I want them to. Wiping her tears, she moves her face closer to mine.

"Can you?" Emma asked hopefully.

"I promise," I said.

Emma doesn't reply with words, but her actions make two things clear: she's desperate for any chance at escaping this curse, and she wasn't lying about being touch-starved. Just like Maria.

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