“Who was that boy?” Lacie asks.

Driving back to the department. Because I have to play this game.

I don’t have to. Why am I anyway?

I could have manipulated every Phantom in that apartment. Could have dealt with her. The boy took back the Pen. Then I’ll take down Eras.

Yet.

I am not.

Why not?

What’s stopping me?

Don’t tell me its lingering emotions left in this flesh vessel. Are they stopping me? Or maybe I found the adolescent teenager curious.

“Er, no,” I respond, forgot to answer.

“You were exchanging numbers, though,” Lacie states.

“Just in case he needs to get into contact with me about the case or he sees or hears something.”

“Are you okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

She fidgets in the passenger seat, “Well, your partner took his own life. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

Ugh. Is this a joke from Eras? Throwing me into the body of a sad expiring meat suit. Get a laugh at the Phantom trapped in a miserable being whom Phantoms would feed on. I am trapped in the body of food. Fuck that Celestial.

Right.

How do I react to this situation properly?

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“Did I witness her blowing her brains out? No, I am fine,”

Lacie clicks her tongue.

“Okay,” she plays with the windows, rolling them down, and then rolling them back up with a flick of a button. She huffs, blowing her long bangs out of her eyes briefly, “Maybe after we deliver this report to Florian, we should take a break? Florian will understand. You got ran over and you’re being a bit - more grumpy than usual.” Her Aura blast me in the face with radiant light, as she perks up, “We can watch your fishing shows! You love those!” she brightly suggests.

Fishing. I know nothing about fishing.

Getting a better hang of driving, though.

She hasn’t complained about it yet.

She smiles; I can feel her smiling, “I am really glad you’re alive.” she adds. Celestial fuck! If only she knew what the Celestials had done to her Father. I want to rub it in her face. Sour her Aura and watch her break, telling her the truth about what happened to her oh so precious Dad. She sickens me. And I don’t know how long I can continue to play along. I should have grabbed that fucking Pen from that boy. And smothered the life out of that arrogant, young Mortal.

“Yeah, yeah,” I respond.

Lacie giggles.

“If it makes you feel any better, I’ll watch some fishing with you,”

“You should,” trying to sound like her father right now.

Kill her.

Get this done and over with.

You know who the Artifact Wielder is.

Kill her.

Then kill him.

“Should take a break yourself, relax, don’t need to cater to me,” I tell her.

What in the Celestials am I doing?

She leans over. Placing a hand on my shoulder, “Thank you for being concerned about my well being. I know what Mom thinks of you sometimes, but I have always known you just to be rough around the edges with the way you express yourself.”

“Right, rough around the edges,”

All I can imagine is her crying. Or I wish I could see her crying. I want to make her cry. I want to turn her radiant Aura into a storm. I want darkness to surround her and her heart to be corrupted. So, why am I sitting in this car, driving her around to the police department? Why am I committing to this role that I despise and hate?

No.

Even as a Phantom, I am not being honest with myself.

I have been wandering the Realms for Eras. Latched onto the figures of important politicians, mostly Traditionalist, for years. And despite my complaints. Despite my annoyance. Seeing how I can manipulate this situation, seeing how I can use these Mortals as puppets - it’s exciting. It’s the most excitement I felt in years.