Stunned silence followed Zax’s statement. He let it stew a moment, but he broke it before someone could say or do something untoward.

“Don’t worry about it for now. We’ll start when the others come back. Shouldn’t be long.”

Without turning his back on them, the human sunk in the uncomfortable seat, trying to relax while he could. He was exhausted. He had pushed himself on all fronts. His body climbing the stairs; his mind keeping up with everything to do; his focus and his skills with all the advanced first aid and programming in on the fly, his old programs had been made as training and had not been enough for real applications. Even emotionally, he was drained from all the stress of the situation. And that was before accounting for the gut-wrenching realisation of what a fellow dotter could do in their last moments.

That thought unconsciously made him glance at the three in front of him, which was enough for one of them to hesitantly break the new awkward silence.

“Uh, since we’re not moving anymore, can I get up now?” Canary fidgeted under her cover, avoiding eye contact. “I’m, I’m not… I need to move.”

“Ah, sure. Let me just… there.” Zax went to her gurney and unfastened her straps.

She quickly put her clothes on, not lifting her eyes from the ground. She fumbled a bit from rushing, but her motor functions didn’t seem impaired. That was a reassuring sign about her mental state.

Zax didn’t have fancy materials, so her outfit was a plain dull grey. He had made it a bit loose for comfort; she could still be sensitive. It exposed her chest area, shoulders, upper back and a few splotches on her upper arms. Those areas up to her throat and all around her neck were covered with rash and scabbing points.

Right, better get to it.

He took a few gauzes and disinfectants and asked to treat her plucked areas. She glanced down and reflexively covered the open areas with her arms and a cute squawk. She hadn’t realised how exposed she was. She realised how ludicrous and pointless her reaction was and quickly uncrossed her arms. A nod later and Zax was delicately dabbing her back, filling the silence with small talk.

“It’ll take quite a few gauzes, but I should have enough. You wouldn’t happen to have a mutation that would help you heal, would you?”

“Er, no? Just the feathers. And… a slight discoloration of my lips. They are… they do nothing.” Her shoulders slumped.

“Nothing? I never heard of a mutation that did nothing, even if it only affects a very specific part the mutant’s life. Especially a mutation with visible effects. For feathers, they should be waterproof and insulating.”

“They are pretty, and soft to the touch, but that’s it. I never was cold or hot enough to have my clothes adjusted, but they can be annoying to dry.” She thought more about it.

“An actual bother but being pretty and soft are the only good things about them? Do you have self-esteem issues? Grew up in a family that didn’t care about you, maybe?”

“Wha-!”

“What are you talking!?” Glob shouted, startling them both. “She’s the nicest girl I ever met! She smiles and greet everyone equally and she makes every room she’s in brighter! She’s cute! And open! And resourceful! And reliable! And! And anybody would be lucky to have her in their life! Any family that wouldn’t see that wouldn’t deserve her! And She! I! She… I… I mean, uh…”

His rant deflated when he realised what he was saying, with a beet red Canary and an amused Zax looking at him, speechless. He blushed and shrivelled on himself, as if trying to disappear in his own mass.

“Glad to see you still have that much energy.” Zax smirked as he turned back to his task, moving to her back. “But nice as it is, that doesn’t answer my question. Even if everyone sees her positively, I don’t know how she sees herself.”

That remark greatly troubled everyone. Even Molester briefly looked pensive.

“But you are right, that can’t be it. If her feathers are usually covered, they are not there to be seen. Hmm. Did you ever get a full check up at a hospital? To actually quantify your changes?”

“Er, no?”

“The basic ones are not that expensive.”

“No, but it never seemed… useful. I mean, it was obvious.”

“You want to know what I think? I think the feathers are just a side effect, or rather an extension of your actual mutation. You wouldn’t happen to love singing and to practice it whenever you can?”

“Ye-, yes? How did you know?”

“We go to karaoke once a week.” The bed-ridden man added.

“I… go there more often than that.” She looked on the verge of guilty at the admission.

“And in your daily job? Do you sing or shout a lot?”

“No, I’m the receptionist. I greet people and answer the phone. I’m not allowed to shout, it’s not professional. I never tried singing there.”

“But you do practice fine vocal control. Yes, I can see it. Your voice is what you care about the most about yourself, isn’t it?”

“What?”

“What?” She and Glob asked at close to the same time.

“As a dotter, your first activation was in your teenage years, at that age we try to figure ourselves out. And during that period or great turmoil, music was your refuge. Something that made you feel better, escape reality for a while. Maybe a certain song, maybe singing to yourself, a band or a chorus you were part of, or wanted to be a part of. Maybe someone important whose voice reached you more than the rest. But you never really thought about it.

Then your first activation, your lips and a small patch of feathers on your neck. Maybe a full collar. Since you didn’t know much about singing, you thought only your throat and mouth were useful, so that’s what changed first, and since you didn’t practice you never noticed the difference. The discoloration was probably a precursor of growing a beak.

But before your second activation, working and singing had become major parts of your life. Your job made you talk to all kinds of people all day, and karaoke made you sing and maybe push your limits. You understood more clearly what a singer needs, maybe even studied and practiced on your own, which oriented the mutation towards your throat and lungs instead of your mouth. That part is already good enough to produce the sounds you want, after all.”

“You mean…”

“Yes, your actual mutation is centred around your voice. To make it more communicative, more pleasant to hear, last longer. That kind of thing. Everything else is a support or an overflow. But all that is just my opinion.”

“That means…”

That opinion sounded too right to her to be ignored. He was wrong or hazy on some points of her past, but too many details were right to be a fluke. That her second activation happened way after she discovered she loved karaoke and trained for it. That she didn’t care for it before her first activation. Even the lessons she took in secret. She had never mentioned that, ever!

She had never noticed that part of herself, how much she cared about her songs, but now that it had her attention she couldn’t ignore or deny it. She was so lost in her thought, she barely heard Glob haltingly query:

“That’s, a very… precise and complete opinion. What makes you, say that?”

“Ah, it’s a hobby of mine. I like to study mutations, and over time I noticed some correlations. Then I developed a theory to explain or predict what someone will get. Or at least what it will tend towards. By taking it backwards, the mutation tells me things about the mutant.”

“But mutations, are random? Impossible, to predict, or control. Even the Great Families, can only, orient their members’, and they don’t, always succeed.”

Zax was done cleaning Canary’s wounds. She slowly paced around, lost in her thoughts, while he put the bloodied gauze in the trashcan under the nearest desk. It had a cover so no worries here.

“True, it’s silly and pointless, but it’s fun. Crafting theories, talking about it with other hobbyists, adapting or dismissing them and so on, there will always be something to talk about and someone to speak with.”

He went to the newly freed gurney as he talked, giving a few mental commands to change it into something more fitting to the situation.

< Connection / Factory_Nanites / Direct contact >

< Command: Unbuild Item “Gurney” (1)

If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

Then Build Item “Armchair-Standard” (2) >

[ Error: not enough nanites ]

< Correction: Built Item start.from Item “Chair-Standard” >

[ Starting ]

“There are others, who do that?”

“Of course.” Zax stated the obvious, watching the gurney melt into a puddle, followed by two chairs rising out of it and cushioning themselves with the excess nanites. “We’re a real community in the network. Even if there are always people who take it too seriously. And I mean, the Families didn’t get their recipes out of nowhere, and they do work even if it’s not 100%.”

“That means… it’s my fault?” Canary’s anguished voice broke at that exclamation.

“What?” Zax barely stopped himself from collapsing in one of the more comfortable new constructs.

“NO!” Glob shouted in outrage. “You did nothing wrong! He’s just insane!”

For the first time, Glob actively tried to move. Luckily for him, he was still weakened and the straps held. It was also the first time he talked directly to Canary.

“HE WAS RIGHT! I-! I did it to myself! I- I love singing… and I love when you guys applaud… and that glint in your eyes when I pour my heart out… so my voice got better and I made you feel that way. That’s why he wanted me to sing for him alone. And got angry when I didn’t. I had it coming. I deserve it. I made you…” Her legs folded under the weight of her realisation, her voice dropping lower at each sentence.

“NO EETY! It was my fault! You’ve done nothing wrong!” Glob shouted louder. “I introduced you and Zila! And I brought you to that karaoke! And I couldn’t protect you. I should’ve done something. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything-”

“SHUT UP!”

That was the biggest shout so far, Zax even felt it in his chest, along with the pain and anguish it carried. And it had come from Canary – Eety, Zax corrected. She had thrown herself at Glob in a fierce hug. Quite a feat, when she was roughly a third of his body weight.

“You’ve done nothing wrong! I’m sorry you had to endure all that. You wouldn’t be in that state without me. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

It had all happened so fast, the two were already bawling their eyes out together by the time Zax had figured out what they were talking about.

Both apologising for what the other went through. Birds of a feather do flock together.

“Well, speaking of responsibilities,” Zax went to the last person and touched his head cover, opening a slit in front of his mouth. “Why did you do that, Molester?”

It was not the best moment to ask, but the question was haunting him and he wasn’t sure he would still be able to have answers later. His face and tone were a blank, monotone mask.

“… Zila.”

“Hm?”

“Name’s Zila.” He looked like a deer in headlights, not expecting the question.

“You betrayed your friends, you hit them when they were down, you hurt and traumatised them in the worst way possible, because your name is Zila?” Zax raised an eyebrow, but lowered it back when he realised it. “A bit slim as an excuse, don’t you think?”

A confused gaze was followed by an actual attempt at an excuse, complete with downcast eyes and timorous voice.

“I always admired her. She’s cute, and nice, and outgoing, and perfect. She has and she is a great friend, she has a job she loves and a boss that respects her. Everything. Everything I ever wanted. I tried to get her normally, but she never cared. She kept smiling and comforting me, but we never loved me back.” His speech was more and more asserted, as if floodgates had been opened and would not close before everything had spewed.

“But I still wanted her. Needed her! I bid my time, I tried to show her how good she would be with me. How great I am too. I gave her gifts and brought her places, often with others so she wouldn’t feel awkward. Even when I wanted us to be alone! But it never meant anything to her!” By now he was close to shouting, as if they didn’t have any right to resent or judge him.

“So what else could I do! Don’t you realise where we are! We’re in the Core! The Core! We were done for! There was no way anyone would come and get us! I still have no idea how or why you got here!” He briefly paused, catching his breath. He straightened his back as much as the staps would let him and concluded with a righteous face:

“So I did what anyone would do in that situation, and I took what I had earned: Eety, and my revenge.”

It was stated so icily yet matter-of-factly, it sent a chill along every spine in the room.

“Revenge? That’s why you went at Glob’s face so fiercely?”

Dog’s voice startled Zax but he didn’t move his eyes from Zila’s. He hadn’t noticed their return, and from their tone they had not just came back.

“Exactly!” Zila smiled like a demented at Zax, jubilant and relieved that someone understood him. He hadn’t noted their return either, his addled mind making him interpret the question as genuine interest from the man in front of him. Zax’s figurative mask nigh slipped at the outburst, but it wasn’t done:

“He kept pretending to be my friend but he never helped me! He was always in my way, he even made sure to stay with her too. He stole so many opportunities! MY opportunities! So I gave him what he deserved, and I took what I deserved!”

He was actually short-winded at the end of his rant, filling the aghast silence with heavy breathing. Whether it was from his shouts or his delusions was unclear. Glob and Eety were huddling together on his gurney, a protection against the horrors spewed their way. They had never suspected that part of their friend; it was like they never knew him at all.

“And that’s why you tore her feathers away?” A half growl echoed, bursting with anger.

Cat stomped between him and Zila, Dog closely behind. The bound man finally realised their presence and his predicament as Zax moved to the side. They hadn’t given him clothes, they only improvised a loincloth and some bandages to stem his bleeding from Dog’s immobilisation, so Cat could only grab his neck to lift him up, a replay of Dog when they first found them. Zax put his foot on the rolling plank to command to the straps to follow the unexpected movement without actually loosening their snare.

Cat’s hand was too tight on his throat to let words come out, and his claws were fully extended even on his not-feet, but he didn’t care about the answer anyways. His other hand was already pulled back into a tight fist – somehow not stabbing himself – when out of all people, Zax stopped him:

“Ah, no, he didn’t.”

His tone was light and casual, like a teacher explaining a wrong answer to an exercise. It was such a contrast with the atmosphere that the everyone’s flow of emotions derailed. They looked at him as if he had grown a second head.

“Are you defending him!?”

“Are you saying he shouldn’t be punished?!”

Dog and Cat’s outrage resonated, but Zax was steadfast.

“No, he definitely must be punished for his actions, I won’t deny that.” The human shook his head, to the great despair of the slowly fading man. “I think he should be judged and sentenced by actual authorities, but since we are quite literally out of reach from the law and you both want to do it yourselves; I don’t have any way to stop you.

I just meant that he didn’t tore her feathers away.”

““Just look at her!””

The pair simultaneously pointed at Eety, who unconsciously turned her torso away, revealing her scabbing back.

“Stress moulting.”

“Uh?”

“It’s a common occurrence among small birds – actual birds. Just as you can tell a dog is sick if their muzzle is dry, you can tell a bird is stressed or sick by how ruffled their feathers are, especially the front ones.” Zax patted his own chest for emphasis. “They even tear them off themselves in case of high stress. Like being forced in confined spaces for too long.

Feathered mutants tend to have the same feature, even if it manifests a bit differently. Especially if they take after smaller birds and if their feather mutation is superficial. Eety’s is not superficial, but a Canary does count as a small bird and she was undeniably under a lot of stress recently.”

“Thank the stars.” Glob sighed. “When the room went back to normal and I saw the feathers all around, I thought she was hurt somewhere. Or everywhere.”

“Nope! She was just scared.” Zax joyfully stated. “Your body was a most effective shield, and any wound you took, any bone you broke, was buying her life anew. Since she would have died from any of those hits.”

Glob and Eety had undecipherable expressions while Zax made his face as blank as before this one comment. The ease at which he did so uneased the others, helping an awkward silence to set.

“So… what now?” Someone asked.

Cat hadn’t let go of Zila, but he had put him back down and his claws were hidden again. The binds had adjusted themselves back.

“Ah, I think you wanted to dish out a punishment?” Zax reminded them.

“Not anymore. I would feel like him,” Cat let go of his throat but still kicked him in the stomach, hard. “Using the ‘no one will stop me’ as an excuse.”

Dog nodded in agreement, watching the former attacker cough his lungs out.

“Then, I guess we can start with the interrogation?”

“Ah, right. How do we do that?”

The three would be interrogators looked at each other, but they were all equally out of their depth. They eventually settled for having the three describe their day, mention any suspicious or unusual activity, one after the other and without influencing the others. Those who hadn’t talked yet were to turn away and have their ears blocked, and no one was to talk while another was giving their testimony, not even them.

They started with Glob to avoid him falling asleep from inactivity, and ended with Zila because they didn’t want to have to listen to him again. Irregularly vibrating earplugs were very effective at blocking even enhanced hearing, and none of them should have that.

All in all, it had been an ordinary shift before the alarm. Eety at the reception, Glob in accounting and Zila in human resources. They were all cooperative with the interrogation, rarely alone, and they did note a few unusual behaviours among colleagues, but nothing incriminating. There were a few tears and sobs when talking about the moments they had spent together, but no one rushed them.

At the end of each testimony, a few questions and precisions were queried and explained. Glob and Eety both confirmed that Zila hadn’t acted any differently than usual. Before they realised, all three were done, and Zax asked his last questions to Zila. He had elected to go last in case the answers presented themselves, because he truly wanted to be wrong about that:

“I only have two questions left. First, visits from the Circles to the dot are very unusual, but not unheard of. Someone with First Circle level enhancements living in the dot is. So, why are you here?”

Several incredulous exclamations rang, but Zax reminded them of how he was able to shrug off his initial injuries and pointed to his more recent arms wounds. They were still far from healed, but their scab was way too sturdy for how little time had passed. That level of enhanced healing was simply too much for a dotter.

“I didn’t know, I was never that hurt and I never did a full checkout. And even if I did, it, it has nothing to do with the incident.” Zila defended himself, trying to get a small victory with the last word.

The others thought the same, but Zax wasn’t convinced.

“That’s not how mutations work. For you to develop enhanced healing, you had to need it. It’s literally one of the two only confirmed rules about the 3G: it gives you what you need most, even if not in the way you’d want or if you don’t know what it is. No way you never noticed how much your huge hospital bills reduced, or how less sickly you were, even if it was over time.

And it is related to a potential attack, albeit indirectly. I don’t know you, if an attack was carried against the Core in the form of sabotage, I would think it more likely to be carried by a Circle’s plant than an actual dotter. Especially one that made so many victims. That goes against everything we were ever taught.”

Cat and Dog sceptically frowned, but Glob and Eety unconsciously nodded at that last part.

“But, let’s admit for a second that you didn’t know you were enhanced enough to leave the dot. That brings us to my second question: once the safe room had gone back to normal, how did you know you were in the Core?”