The heavy oak door of the council chamber clicked shut, muting the lingering hum of voices and authority.
Folly followed a half-step behind Maestress Biondh, the echo of their footsteps trailing through the marble corridor. The weight of the meeting still clung to her—the cold judgment in her father's unreadable gaze pressing harder than any words spoken inside.
"Keep up, Folly," Biondh said without slowing or glancing back. "Your mind is still in that room. Pull it out. The real work begins now."
They turned down a quieter hall, lined not with portraits of dignitaries but metallic doors, each secured with glowing keypads. Biondh pressed her palm to one. The lock hissed open.
Inside, the office carried an aura of severe, calculated order. One wall was a single sheet of reinforced glass, revealing the Academy's training grounds far below. The others were stacked with scanners, data-slates, and case files. The faint scent of ozone lingered in the air.
Biondh moved behind a massive obsidian desk and finally fixed her piercing gaze on Folly.
"Sit. Your head is spinning with questions. Ask one—the most pressing."
Folly lowered into the sleek chair. Her voice came out steady, though her heart raced.
"The boy mentioned from the interrogation… and the one the council discussed… they're the same person, aren't they?"
A faint smirk ghosted across Biondh's lips.
"The first correct connection you've made all day." She leaned forward. "His name is Will Evert. He was in our care briefly. Released nearly three months ago, buried under fabricated reports and corrupted data."
Her tone sharpened.
"What makes him dangerous isn't just his strength, Folly. It's what he possesses. My studies show he's unstable—fundamentally broken. He doesn't have one psyche expression. He has two. Fully realized. Active."
Folly's brows drew together.
"But Ma'am… you taught us yourself: every person has a dominant psyche. One ability. One superhuman. The dominant strain cancels out the rest. That's the First Law."
"Yeah, I did say that," Biondh admitted, reclining. The chair creaked. "I also said your combat forms needed to be flawless, yet I saw you nearly trip over yourself in the simulator yesterday. Theory and practice diverge."
Her gaze pinned Folly.
"This boy is a walking divergence. He shatters the rules. And I'm certain he was the 'pretty boy' from the club incident last night."
Folly blinked. "Wait—the one with the nice hair and the kind of physique that makes you question your training schedule?"
Color rose in her cheeks. She clamped her mouth shut.
Biondh actually snorted. "Yes, you idiot. Who else? Focus. Something happened to him after he left us—something that cracked him wide open."
Folly leaned forward, curiosity igniting. "What happened to him?"
Biondh's eyes drifted to the glass, watching cadets spar below. Her voice lowered.
"His story is fractured. Complicated. I don't know the full truth either—and that gap is unacceptable." She turned back. Her gaze sharpened into command. "Which is why I'm giving you a mission. You'll work with Ose."
Folly sat straighter, a mix of dread and thrill coursing through her.
"Ose? The Ose? The one who once filed a report that was just the word 'loud' repeated twelve times in different fonts?"
"His methods are unorthodox," Biondh said dryly, "but he gets results. He's the best tracker the JDA has. You will listen, you will learn, and you will report directly to me. Is that clear?"
"Yes, Maestress. Crystal."
---
Afternoon sunlight spilled into the halls of O.W.E. Academy. Students flooded out of classrooms, laughter and chatter filling the air.
Love hugged her textbooks close, worry pressing into her chest. Scanning the crowd, she finally spotted the lanky figure she was looking for.
"Quilt!" she called, weaving between students. "Hey, have you seen Will today? He wasn't in Psionics. I can't stop worrying."
Quilt shoved his hands into his pockets, his stride slowing. His expression twisted with unease.
"Yeah, I noticed. He's been acting… strange. Not just skipping class. It's like… I don't know. Like someone else is driving his body—and they've never touched a steering wheel before."
Love blinked. "That's a weirdly specific analogy."
"I'm a weirdly specific guy," Quilt shot back with a shrug. "Look, I'm heading to his house again. This time I'm checking for real."
Love's jaw firmed. "Then I'm coming too. If you're going to confront a body-snatcher, you'll probably just offer it a juice box and ask about its day."
"Hey! Diplomacy is valid," Quilt protested. "Fine, but if it is an alien parasite, you're the one who has to hit it."
From behind a trophy case, Amulet's small frame froze, his sharp ears catching every word.
"Something's off," he whispered. "its quite unfortunate, but I can't let this slide.
As Love and Quilt headed toward the main exit, Amulet slipped into their trail—not hiding, not bothering. Just following.
It didn't take long before Quilt nudged Love. "We've got a tail."
Love glanced back, eyes narrowing. "It's Amulet. Figures. What's his deal?"
"Not sure. But he's not subtle about it."
When they reached Will's quiet street, Quilt turned with an easy smile. "Hey, Amulet. You looking for Will too?"
Amulet's gaze was calm, unreadable. "The thought crossed my mind. This zone has unusually low psychic resonance. I was conducting a survey."
Love's senses stretched out, brushing against a wall—Amulet's mental defenses, sharp and impenetrable. A flicker of suspicion tugged at her, but she pulled back.
"Fine," she said finally. "But if this is a survey, you're writing the report."
Together, the three walked up to Will's home. Quit raised his hand and knocked.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
---
The sound echoed beyond the quiet house. It rippled inward, down into the fractured chaos of Will's psychic realm.
The air inside was heavy, suffocating, a swirling mosaic of broken memories and volatile emotion.
From that storm, Envy emerged. No grand arrival—she was simply there, a shadow of deep purple bleeding into shape. Her purple eyes locked on Lust.
Lust reclined lazily on a psychic chaise, every motion dripping with languid arrogance. She examined her nails, her voice purring.
"I suppose you're here to drag me back. But I've overstayed my welcome. The distractions here are… delicious."
Envy's reply was quiet, but cutting, like ice water through fire.
"Your indulgences are noted. I am here only as a messenger."
She let silence stretch before speaking again.
"You have two more days. Two more days to prove your worth as a mood. Two more days to gather experience from this host. After that, the five of us will decide your fate."
The words struck like stone.
Lust's feigned boredom melted. Shock flickered into a fragile, desperate hope.
"Two days…" she whispered.
A reprieve. A chance.
For a fleeting moment, joy glimmered in her dark eyes.
Envy's form began to dissolve, her gaze catching Lust's one last time.
This is not a gift. It is a warning, after you I'm next. Enjoy these few days while you can cause I'm taking more days as Greed had promised.
The flicker of empathy in Envy's eyes was gone as quickly as it came.
My hands are tied. I can only watch from my prison.
And then she vanished.
The echo of her departure was shattered by something simple, something human—
The knock at Will's door.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
Reality slammed back in.