Ariadne hated her life.

She frowned as she knocked the trashcan cover over. It clattered to the ground, loud in the dark night. This was not her life. She was done with life in the slum. She had been done with it for a very long time.

Now, she'd been thrown back into it. What was worse was that Naymond had done everything in his power to lock her out of leaving. All her connections back out of the slums had shunned her. Every time she reached out, they shut her down, telling her how she was too hot right now and they did not want to get burned.

They never mentioned who they did not want to offend, but it didn't take a lot to know that Naymond had gotten to them.

Tired, she sat under the bridge, ignoring the homeless as they shuffled around aimlessly. She gritted her teeth, biting down on her discomfort. She had survived this before. She could survive it again.

Out in the cold of the night, the only illumination was from the stars and the full moon buttressed by the warm yellow of trash fires as the homeless did their best to remain warm.

Ariadne looked at the sardine can next to her. She could afford far better, but it was a stupid idea to bring good food near the homeless, not unless you were ready to kill those who were emboldened by the flames of hunger.

She could also rent herself a room in a hotel, but that would be wasting money she was no longer certain she could replenish.

Why? She asked herself for the umpteenth time. Why was Naymond going so far to keep her in the slum.

For the love of all that was insignificant she had tried to cross over to another state just to be shunned by the police. She was also on a no-fly list. How the hell had she ended up on a fucking no-fly list?

How did Naymond have so much pull, and why the fuck was he keeping her trapped in the city?

Pissed off, Ariadne grabbed the can of sardines and flung it into a wall very far from her. A flurry of homeless men and women flocked to it in their rags. They struggled, fighting over the almost empty can.

Ariadne ignored them. Whatever they did with and to themselves was not her problem as long as they did not bother her.

There was one good news, though. Not all of her contacts had shunned her. What Naymond did not take into account was that there were still those who were loyal to her, at least loyal enough to help her in secret.

Pulling out her phone, she checked her messages. The message she was waiting for had not come in yet. But her contact had promised her an answer by tonight, so she was not dissuaded. The man had not let her down yet. As a [Scout], his information gathering skills were top notch.

"This is really not a nice place," a voice said, strolling up to her.

Ariadne had spent a long time listening to lectures from the voice to recognize it anywhere. When she turned her head, she found Anji walking up to her. Young as he was, he carried himself with an air of tired nonchalance that was more common among tired adults than emo children.

He looked around as he walked, watching the gathering of homeless where she had thrown her can of sardines. He came to a stop when he was beside her.

"Will she be alright?" he asked, nodding to the homeless.

Ariadne looked at them and found that the fight had all but died down. As for the person Anji was talking about, it was a young woman with not enough rags on for a cold night. She was lying down on the ground with a stain of blood on her head. She'd probably gotten it from the scuffle for the sardine.

Her response to Anji was a shrug. "It's the slum, Anji. People live and die every day. You'd just be killing yourself if you worried about it."

Anji took a moment to think about it. Ariadne half-expected him to go and check up on the woman, but he did not. That was good. It meant that he was learning. In the earlier days when he'd first started visiting her, he would've gone to check on the woman.

Just being around the suffering of the slums was toughening him up.

"So," she said, "have you thought about my offer?"

Anji frowned at her. Still, he put his hand in the pocket of the jacket he was wearing and brought out a mess of wrapped notes.

Ariadne leapt to her feet, grabbing his hand in hers to conceal the money.

"Are you trying to get all these people killed?" she hissed in a quiet voice.

Anji looked down at her hands covering his, then at the people around in slight confusion. "I don't get it."

Ariadne wanted to smack him on the head. "This amount of homeless people see you waving around so much money and they'll come at you."

"I got that part," Anji said. "I just don't get the getting them killed part."

"They are not Gifted," she explained. "If they come rushing you or me, I'll be forced to put them down. Against un-Gifted, I don't know how devastating I will end up being."

Anji thought about it for a long moment before releasing the money to her. Ariadne slipped it into her pocket very quickly.

"I'm surprised you were able to sell all of them," she said. "Never pictured you for someone with drug connections."

Anji's frown told her that he was not happy with the conversation.

"You don't need money, and I don't need money," he said. "So, I'm guessing that you wanting me to sell those drugs was some misguided test. Don't do it again. I'm younger than you but that does not make me a child. It also does not make me stupid."

There was a warning in his tone. He was telling her that if she insulted him in such a way again, he would stop helping her or spending any time with her. Considering the fact that he was her only connection to getting back at Naymond if she ever decided to, she wasn't ready to lose the connection.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I know you only understand me because Naymond threatened to throw you out of the house if you ever spoke bad about the Melmarc kid."

Anji frowned and looked away. There was a mild touch of hurt in his eyes.

"I've known him and done his stupid biddings for years," he muttered. "Then some stupid kid comes along and he's threatening me for doing the one thing that he himself told me to do by protecting you. It's bullshit."

Anji wasn't angry, at least he wasn't angry enough. But he was hurt. He was hurt enough. All Ariadne had to do was turn that pain into anger and the boy would be ready to be a weapon to be used against Naymond.

For now, however, she would use him for other things. Things that…

Her phone vibrated in her pocket, and she pulled it out quickly.

Anji narrowed his eyes at her, stepping closer. "What's that?"

"Just something I've been waiting for," she answered as if it was unimportant.

As for the message, she opened it. Looking at what it said, a smile split her lips. It was all the information that she wanted to have. It read a simple sentence.

I've found him.

That was good. That was very good.

Closing the message, she looked at Anji. "I've got something for you to help me do, and no, it's not a test. I actually need you for this."

Anji's frown told her that he wasn't sure about whatever she wanted to ask him for. It was proof that he still hadn't committed himself to being her friend, to living this life. Right now, they were only bonding over his displeasure with Naymond. However, if she could show him the beauty that came with a sense of power in the underworld, he would come to understand her. He would come to understand the taste of power. It's allure.

Slowly, she told herself. Anji would learn slowly. Her job was to be patient.

"What do you need?" he asked, in the end.

"I know a guy at the docks," she began.

If Naymond wouldn't allow her to leave the city legally, she could always leave it illegally. And the time had come to leave it.

It was time to show Melmarc Lockwood that no matter how powerful his mother was, there were still people that he was not supposed to fuck with.

…

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"Are you okay with this?" Ark asked, pointing down at his legs.

He had one comfortably crossed over the other at the knee. To be more precise, he had the ankle of one leg resting on the knee of the other leg so that it formed something of a triangle.

There were four adults in front of him, each one with their own table. It was interesting to find that three of the four adults were men who looked to be in their thirties. The only woman present wore glasses like someone with bad sight but looked like the oldest.

He found himself wondering if she was supposed to be the soft handed one or the heavy-handed one. His experience with disciplinary committees told him that she could easily play either of the roles.

I wonder how Mel will handle this? He thought, curious.

All four pairs of eyes focused on his legs and dismissed it as unimportant.

"I am Jack," the man farthest to Ark's left said. He had a normal face, the only thing standing out about him being his bald head.

The man gestured to the man next to him. "My colleague over here is Isaiah."

Isaiah had dark skin but blonde wavy hair that was packed into a ponytail. Deep green eyes watched Ark for a quick moment before looking down at the piece of paper in front of him.

"Next to him is Payton," Jack continued, gesturing past Isaiah to the woman.

Payton gave Ark a gentle smile.

The soft touch, Ark concluded.

"And next to her is Travis," Jack finished.

Travis had a hard face. His smile did nothing but make his face harder. Ark recognized Travis. In fact, he doubted there was anyone who wouldn't recognize Travis. Travis was a famous A-rank Delver who had gone into retirement two years ago.

With how often he threw himself into open portals, many people had expected him to evolve into S-rank before his retirement. Up until today, there were still speculations about why he retired.

Nobody knew what the reason for it was.

Ark would've asked if he was a fan, but he wasn't a fan. He didn't dislike the former Delver, but he didn't like him either. Since the death of Dark Mist, there hadn't been any Delver capable of scratching that itch.

Either that or he had a childhood fear that if he began to like another Delver, they would just up and die like Dark Mist. Ark wasn't very sure which it was, and he couldn't be bothered to confirm it.

"So… that's a yes on the crossed legs?" he asked.

"Your sitting position is fine, Mr. Lockwood," the lady, Payton, said with a warm smile. "I will advise you that in actual corporate settings, a more civilized and controlled method of sitting would be preferred."

"Your way of sitting will be frowned upon in an official setting," Travis said.

Ark nodded once. "Thank you."

He already knew about the official sitting positions. Enough disciplinary committees would make sure that you learnt such a thing.

When Ark and Melmarc had gotten to the waiting room, the entire interview process had been long and boring. So long and boring that the time told Ark that it was dark outside. The test had taken them the entire day and then some.

9pm, he thought to himself. When they had finally called his name, it was nine o'clock in the night and he and Melmarc were still the only ones in the waiting room.

Melmarc hadn't said anything, but Ark knew that he was worried he'd thrown the entire test process off-kilter with whatever had happened to the [Telepath]. Right now, Melmarc was out there with nothing but his thoughts.

Ark took a deep breath. Leg still crossed, he sat up straighter.

"Shall we begin," he said.

All four interviewers paused, raising their heads from their pieces of paper to look at him.

"Is there somewhere you would rather be?" Payton asked, curious.

Ark cocked his head to the side giving the illusion of thought. "Not really, but it's getting dark and I'm sure we all want to get this over with. Also," he placed a hand on his stomach, "I haven't eaten all day."

He wondered if starving them for the duration of the test was part of the test. It wasn't really a nice thing to do to students if he was being honest, but he wasn't really complaining.

"That is true," Travis muttered almost to himself, as he returned to sifting through the document in front of him.

"Our apologies for that," Isaiah said, eerie green eyes focusing on Ark. "We'll end this quickly and you can go and have your dinner. An assortment of meal choices will be prepared and all you have to do is place your order at the door. Your meal will be waiting for you in your room."

That was amazing news. Now that he knew they would be quick, he was suddenly hungrier.

The interviewers proceeded to waste three more minutes of his time sifting through documents before somebody finally spoke up.

"The [Telepath] was unable to get all the information they wanted out of you," Payton said, beginning the interview without further preamble, eyes focused on the piece of paper in her hand.

"He was not," Ark confirmed.

Payton looked up at him. "Why is that?"

"Because it's my mind," Ark said. "I was given the option of allowing him to see what I wanted him to see. I did not want him to see that."

"Were you trying to hide something?" Isaiah asked.

Ark's gaze slipped over to the man. The blonde wavy hair and green eyes on a dark skin was… disconcerting in a way. It was difficult to believe that it was not the result of some level of biological modification. He wondered if it was cosmetic surgery or magical surgery.

Could also be some natural biological anomaly.

"Yes," Ark answered, uninterested in lying. "Everybody has their secrets. But it's nothing illegal, though. I assure you."

"And we are to take your word for it?" Jack asked with a skeptical look.

Ark wanted to laugh. Melmarc was going to have so much fun dealing with these people. He would study the life out of them but not do anything with whatever he would learn.

As for his answer to Jack, Ark shrugged. "Yes, you should take my word for it."

Travis covered his mouth with a balled fist, masking a chuckle with a fake cough. Ark kept a stern face, a straight face.

He was used to adults ganging up on him in meetings such as this, it was what disciplinary committees were all about as far as he was concerned—adults ganging up kids.

"And why should we take your word for it, Mr. Lockwood?" Jack challenged.

Ark shrugged. "Because I'm here to take your word for it."

He saw a tick in Jack's jaw and knew that Jack was not a fan of confident children. A lot of adults who were accustomed to being in a position of power were not fans of confident children. Then again, most times, confident children were usually just arrogant children.

Jack wanted to say something, but Travis beat him to it. "That is a fair analysis."

Jack opened his mouth to say something that, from the look on his face, was not going to be in agreement. Payton shook her head gently, advising against it.

With a barely restrained sigh, Jack held himself back.

"Why do you want to study in Fallen High, Mr. Lockwood?" Isaiah asked, pushing the interview along. He was soft spoken even though his voice was deep.

Ark gave him a surprised look. He did not expect that specific question.

"My apologies," he said, beginning politely, "but I was offered a scholarship, that's why I'm here."

"With a class as unique as yours," Travis said, "I'm fairly certain that we are not the only school that offered you a scholarship."

Yes, Ark thought. In fact, all the five top Gifted High schools scouted him. Each came with their own variation of a scholarship. Fallen High didn't have the best. One of them even threw in a weekly allowance in their scholarship.

So why had he chosen Fallen High? The answer was simple. It was because Melmarc had chosen Fallen High.

"I was offered a scholarship by another school," he answered finally, making sure to sound nonchalant.

"So why us?" Isaiah asked.

He shrugged. "Because my brother likes your school."

"Your brother." Travis looked through his documents. "Melmarc?"

Ark nodded. "He's always been a fan of your school for some reason. I figured, if he likes your school then there has to be something about you guys that makes you better than the rest."

"You chose us because your younger brother likes us," Jack clarified.

"Yes," Ark nodded.

"And you give a lot of value to your younger brother's words?"

Ark pressed his lips into a thin line. "Yes."

"I apologize for my colleague's choice of focus," Travis said, reading Ark's displeasure in Jack's constant focus on Melmarc being his younger brother, as if a younger brother wasn't smart enough to have opinions that their older brother would find useful.

Jack looked at Travis as if he didn't understand the reason the man was apologizing on his behalf.

He doesn't think he's done anything wrong, Ark realized. Which meant that he either did not mean to offend or he thought it was his complete right to offend.

That was a very interesting…

Ark's thoughts trailed off as he got a feeling from Spitfire. A small smile touched his lips and he almost allowed it to usurp his entire face.

If he was reading the feeling correctly, Spitfire was trying to get into Melmarc's wardrobe and steal a shirt without breaking it. Since Melmarc had been sure to lock the wardrobe specifically because of Spitfire, Ark doubted the demon would find much success in his endeavor.

Spitfire was either very bored or ready to sleep and didn't want to get into trouble with Melmarc for breaking the wardrobe.

"If your brother decides to leave Fallen High, what will you do?" Isaiah asked.

The answer was a no-brainer. "I'll leave."

"What if he is going to a school that did not offer you a scholarship?" Payton asked.

"My parents have no problem paying two tuition fees and raising two kids through high school." Ark gave her an amiable smile. "We'll be fine."

"You put that much stock in your younger brother?" Isaiah asked.

"You would, if you knew him the way I know him," Ark said. "He's… very interesting."

Jack and Payton looked confused for a moment. Isaiah couldn't be bothered. Travis continued to look through the document in front of him.

Jack sighed. "Well, what did we expect him to say. He jumped off a plane because of his bro—"

"Careful."

The word filled the room despite how quiet it was. It cut Jack of with an undertone of threat. Ark could hear it in the voice. Violence was suddenly on the horizon.

All heads turned to the owner of the voice.

Travis had his documents very carefully held in his hands. The man was fighting for control as he finally looked at Jack.

"Be very careful, Mr. Nunet," Travis continued. "It is in very poor taste to undermine a person's sacrifice, especially when it is one that risked their life."

Judging by how tense the other interviewers got, it was easy to say that all three of them did not believe that they could take Travis in a fight even if they worked together.

That was interesting.

Rearranging his documents, Travis placed them down on the table. He rubbed his forehead like a tired man, then scratched his hair casually. It was cut short so that you could almost see his scalp if you focused well enough.

"Do we have any more questions for Mr. Lockwood?" Travis asked, not directly addressing any one person.

All three interviewers looked down at their documents, but it was Payton that spoke.

"Do you want to be a Delve, Mr. Lockwood?" she asked.

"I do," Ark answered.

"Why?"

"Because we've only got one world," he answered, even though he knew that he could always find another, from what Uncle Dorthna told him. "And someone's got to do the job of protecting it."

"So, you fancy yourself a protector," Isaiah said. "And you don't want to be a Delver for the fame and the fortune or because you think it's fun killing monsters."

"It's definitely not fun almost dying," Ark said flatly. "I can tell you that one for free."

Travis was nodding. "It is not."

Payton and Isaiah shared a look before the woman finally nodded. "That is all from us." She looked at Jack. "Anything else from you?"

Jack nodded. "Just one." To Ark, he asked, "Who is your favorite Delver?"

"Dark Mist," Ark answered, without missing a beat.

"Why?"

Ark shrugged. "I can't say I really remember. I've just liked him since I had the presence of mind to like a Delver."

Jack nodded. "That is all from me. Mr. Travis?"

"Thank you," Travis said. "Before I ask my question, would you say that you have told the truth at this interview to the best of your knowledge, Mr. Lockwood?"

Definitely not, Ark thought. For one thing, the only people he was protecting by becoming a Delver was his family. Personally, he wanted to be a Delver because Dark Mist had always made fighting monsters look fun. And, from the experience he'd had fighting monsters since becoming a Gifted, he could say for a fact that fighting monsters was definitely fun.

"To the best of my ability," he said. "I think I did okay with the truth."

Travis nodded very slowly. "Then one more question for you."

Ark nodded.

"What would you do?" Travis asked, "if you could either watch your brother die to save the world or save your brother and watch the world burn?"

Oh, you tricky ex-Delver.

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