(617-422-****): I made it out.

(617-422-****): The plan worked.

(617-422-****): All good on my end.

(617-422-****): ????

(617-422-****): Hello?

(617-422-****): Where should we meet?

(617-422-****): You there?

(617-422-****): Hello?

(617-422-****): This better be your real number.

(617-422-****): Answer me.

(617-422-****): You said you weren't the type to ghost a girl.

(617-422-****): Where are you?

(617-422-****): You'd better have a good reason for ignoring me.

(617-422-****): ANSWER ME!

(617-422-****): You said we'd meet up and discuss the move going forward. If I have to go find you, there will be a problem.

(617-422-****): Did something happen to you?

(617-422-****): Something better have happened to you.

(617-422-****): I'll give you until the end of the month. Then I'm gone forever.

Emma's texts paint a decent picture of what her mental state will be like when I finally respond. While I would've preferred to get a new phone to communicate with her, giving her my Cowl phone number isn't the worst. Texting will seem too cold and distant, especially after almost a week of silence. I'll call her. The line rings once, and she immediately answers.

"WHERE-" she started to say.

"Not now. I'll explain in person. What is the closest airport to your location? It's time to meet and discuss the future," I cut in.

"Winnipeg Richardson International Airport. I could be there in about an hour, give or take," Emma responded after grumbling.

"Thank you. Give me a few minutes," I said, pulling up the airport's website.

A connecting flight to Minnesota, to then get to Logan, and I can send a car to pick her up from there. The flight in question leaves in two hours. Doable, if cutting it a little close. She should have a passport, or she would've mentioned it. My cursor hovers over the purchase button when a thought strikes me. Technologica might be monitoring my spending. And a flight from Canada to the closest airport to me is basically a giant flashing sign revealing the plot that Emma and I crafted. She may not be completely integrated into all my tech like before, but that doesn't mean I can just act freely. Fuck.

"Scratch that plan. You're going to need to cross the border into the U.S. I can send someone to you, but you'll need to get across yourself. This is the best way to do things while keeping you safe. Text me when you're across and I'll send someone immediately," I said.

"Is this because of whoever sent you?" She asked.

"Yes, and sorry for the radio silence. I've been in the hospital recovering and only came home today. I'm back now, and I'll be able to keep in contact much more frequently. It might be difficult, but you need to just trust me. Keep me updated, but don't use your name or my name in messages."

"Okay. I'm going to put my trust in you because you've come through before. But I'm going to expect you actually to answer when I text or call you," Emma said pointedly.

"I know. Talk to you soon," I said before hanging up.

"Kay bye."

One problem solved, but so many others keep popping up. I have a text from Aubrey about Friendsgiving and another about taking the Quickrail back together to our hometown. Damn. I still have to text Daniel. There are hundreds of notifications from the group chat that I purposely ignore. My brain is too preoccupied to even begin to tread into the murky waters of the group chat. There's also a text that makes me stop completely. It's from Violet. I didn't expect her to reach out.

Hey, Eryk, haven't heard from you since that day at the mall. You haven't been in Ethics lately, and the class is missing something because of your absence. Aubrey didn't know anything, but Professor Armol just said it was excused. You're not the most responsive texter, but I wanted to see how you're doing. I swung by your apartment, but you weren't there. I knocked a few times lol. If you need anything, just let me know.

She really is completely in love with me. I double-tap the text box, liking it. She doesn't get a response beyond that. The last thing I want to do is encourage her. Next on my agenda is Momentus. I need to call a board meeting and give all of them an update on where I've been. And offer Rorschach a second power. I'll use that as my chance to finally take her original power and put it back so I can track her like the others. I send out the board meeting message, then one to Daniel, and then respond to Aubrey. I guess I can go back to New Farford for a day or two. Seconds later, Aubrey calls me.

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"Eryk! Where the hell have you been?"

"Hello, Aubrey, I'm good, thanks for asking," I responded snarkily.

"Dude, I was worried about you. We all were. You dropped off the face of the earth for damn near two weeks. I thought something had happened to you, dude. I thought I'd lost you, too," Aubrey said, her voice cracking at the near mention of Marcus.

"I live a very boring life, and unlike a certain someone, I don't charge headfirst into dangerous situations in my free time," I joked in an attempt to lighten the mood.

"And I acknowledge the hypocrisy of the situation of me being upset about your safety, but that's a risk that I've chosen to take as a would-be Cape. You're not involved in any of that stuff, and the idea of you dying somewhere because of some piece of trash Cowl trapped you beneath a falling building," she said, practically growling the last sentence. "Besides, I have Vye and the others, and you know that all of them are heavy hitters."

"That's true, but you can't blame me for pointing out the double standard you're holding me to," I said to no reply. "Hello? Aubrey, you still there? Aubrey?"

"Yeah, sorry. I-I'm here. Just got distracted by a notification on my phone. So you're down to take the Quickrail back to Farford with me? Because I'll buy the tickets now," she added.

"I don't think you need to pre-purchase them. New Farford isn't exactly the most popular destination. We can just buy them the day of. How many days are you planning on staying?" I asked.

"Well, I wanna leave tomorrow if that's cool. Then I'm gonna get back either Friday night or Saturday morning so I can help decorate and get ready for Friendsgiving. It's our first one and I want it to be uh-mazing. You're still down to cook, right?"

"We can leave whenever you want. I don't have a lot going on. And yeah, I'm still down to cook. Does anyone have any dietary restrictions besides vegan options for Sydney?" I asked.

"Um, not really, but some non-meat options would be cool as well. I can send you the money I've gathered from everyone for groceries," Aubrey offered.

"Don't worry about it; I'll go shopping at some point this week. I'll come up with a menu, and you can let me know what people think of it. How many people are going?"

"Are you sure? I don't want you to be stuck with a ridiculous bill."

"Aubrey, it's fine. Now, who's going?" I asked.

"Me, Raf, You, Violet, Dappur, Sydney, Dappur's date, Jean-Luc, and then anyone you want to bring. Oh, what about Vivienne? She was a ton of fun at that party," she said.

Jean-Luc is going? I didn't know they had made up. Inviting Vivienne isn't a bad idea; it'll give me a buffer with Violet.

"Sure, I'll invite her. Is it cool if she brings a date?"

"Yes, plus ones are welcome and encouraged. The more the merrier, after all," she said cheerfully.

"Awesome. Wait, where is this even happening? Ten people is a lot to fit in the dorms." She had better not be expecting me to host everyone here in my apartment. Absolutely not happening.

"Violet's family owns some property in the city, and they're letting us use it. She said you can just cook there if it's easier for you. It's got a full kitchen, and I think they keep it stocked. Once you send the menu, I'll check with her because the place might already have some of the stuff you need."

"Thank you, I'll take her up on the offer then. Also, you know I'm not making any desserts, right? You know I don't like all that sugary shit, and baking is the bane of my existence," I exaggerated.

"I know, I know. God, maybe you wouldn't be so uptight if you had a brownie once in a while. I'll take the money that I gathered for the groceries, and we can use it for booze, snacks, and desserts," Aubrey said.

I will not be partaking. Kai better have some people ready for me to dump powers into because me being an burgeoning alcoholic at this party is a recipe for a fucking disaster.

"That works. Alright, I gotta go. Shoot me a text when you want to head to the Quickrail station tomorrow. I have a ton of schoolwork to catch up on," I said, trying to end the call.

"Eryk. Are you good, dude? Where were you?" She asked me.

What am I supposed to say? No, Aubrey, I'm not okay. One of the most legendary Capes to ever exist kidnapped me from my apartment and forced me to go to some bumbfucknowhere town in Canada to kill a woman who massacred her entire town. Also, this Cape is not even a Cape; instead, she's a micromanaging robotic space fascist who thinks it's her job to guide mankind for the last hundred years. Also, she's fucking crazy and is threatening to kill me if I don't go along with her insane demands. That is not including the fact that while I'm attempting to wage war against the Cowls of Quinstin to take over the city, I've discovered it isn't psychopaths with superpowers that are the most difficult enemy. No, my true enemy seems to be nepotistic bureaucracy. I'm juggling two different identities, all while attempting to get a degree despite having no desire to. No, instead I'll just lie.

"I'm doing okay, but I really don't wanna talk about where I was," I said, making my tone sound melancholic.

"Okay. I won't press you about it, but you can talk to me, Eryk. We're best friends, and no matter what you're going through, I'm here for you. I can't lose you, too, man. No matter how busy my life gets, I'm never too busy for you. I love you, dude, and whatever you need, whenever you need it," she said emotionally.

"Thank you; I know you're always there for me. I appreciate it. But as of right now, I'm not ready to talk about it just yet. Listen, I gotta go, but I'll text you."

"Okay. Please reach out if you need it," she pleaded.

"I will. Bye."

"Bye."

And now I have to prepare for the board meeting later tonight.

I shower for the first time in two weeks, washing off the nastiness from Nestor Falls and then the hospital ward in the space station. My need for cleanliness and control probably says something about my psychiatric profile, but I don't have a therapist, and I have no need for one. Looking at the piercing emerald pools of my eyes in the mirror, I'm struck by just how eyecatching they are. It's no wonder so many are drawn to me. From a purely reproductive and genetic position, I am clearly better than everyone else. Even the twin scars on the sides of my chest add to the allure. Who could have accomplished what I have with how little I started with? Nobody.

There's a portion of my analytical brain, the only one I've had since birth, that recognizes these thoughts as ones that are not my own. That these self-centered beliefs are a result of personality pieces I've stolen, blending together into an egotistical smoothie. That soon I will rid myself of these negative aspects, shunting them off to some mutilated, barely alive, things that can't really be considered people by the time Kai is done butchering them. That pride is the downfall of many men, and that if I think I am the exception to the rule, then I have already succumbed to it. But for now, when I still contain the flaws of people I've killed, I find myself becoming quite obsessed with myself. If you can't love yourself, then nobody will.

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