It had been just under a month since the interview and Palm was feeling relaxed.

The seasons had begun changing, and what was a dreary spring transformed into a blisteringly hot summer. The barkeeper sat in the warm bar, which was filled with fans that he had set up to keep himself cool.

"Man does it suck to not be able to afford air conditioning." He complained to nobody in particular, "It's a box of cold air, it can't be that hard to make."

'A bit of heat won't kill you,' Theda responded from above him, she was stretching languidly whilst drifting in front of a television screen which was blaring the daily news.

It was currently the late hours of the day and Palm had turned on the news to watch while he ate dinner, only he was feeling too much like a tub of molten ice-cream to do much of anything. The avatar on the tv screen had been gushing rather loudly, for the past half-hour, about Supernaturals and he couldn't care less.

"For the first time since it's conception Checkmate is seeing bona-fide Supernaturals, we might even get an elite force of our very own!" A woman in a black suit said enthusiastically, "So criminals beware!"

The rest of the news story just ended up being more information on who these people were and was subsequently followed by a short call to action for the war effort. Eventually it settled on playing advertisements for the newest shows and events.

'Oh that reminds me' The spirit said, 'What movie are we watching tonight? Nostradame looked pretty interesting.'

'Nah, it's too cliché, they've done androids vs. the French more times than I can count.' the barkeeper replied 'pick something more original.'

'What's so bad about it?' Theda questioned, huffing, 'I've never seen that stuff either.'

Palm fixed her with a flat stare, 'It's because your such a bookworm, and to answer your earlier question, when people make films on Mirage that are overused their just begging to be given bad reviews.' The mix of artificial intelligence and overused concepts was a disaster in the making.

'You can't judge a book by it's cover.' she berated.

'Yeah, well, why do you care? aren't there so many other movies to choose from?' Palm retorted.

'I just thought it would be cool is all...' Theda muttered dejectedly her shoulders drooping.

The spirit was stuck to him like glue and sometimes it made the barkeepers life much harder. Half of the time she would constantly search for new and interesting things on the wave and anytime an interesting topic, movie or tv show came up he would be subject to endless hours of rambling on why it was incredible. He figured that the time she spent trapped in an axe must have deprived her from stimuli with the way she eagerly pursued the strangest of subjects.

The other half of the time was spent cooking up slightly alarming plots to 'help him'. Not long ago she was trying to get him to become a bounty hunter and kill criminals for coin, she tried to frame it as doing the world a favour while getting ahead in life. It had taken a lot of pushing to get her to give up on making murder his official occupation, something which he had to explain repeatedly.

'Alright I'll find something else,' She eventually conceded. 'Have you given any more thought to what I asked?'

'I'm not becoming a bodyguard.' He grumbled, 'I like running my bar.'

She raised an eyebrow at him, 'You're the one who kept going on about making something of yourself, you have to start somewhere. What's all this effort been for if not that?'

'I know it's not sustainable, especially with how few customers I get.' Palm said.

'...But?' Theda finished.

'There is no but, your right I have to do something with myself, I didn't commit robbery just to do nothing.' He stated, 'I'll join the war effort if I have to.'

She simply shook her head at his response, 'I have a better plan, I just need to iron out some details.'

'All right then...' he sighed.

He spent the next few minutes eating in silence, not much was said between the two of them but it was rather peaceful. The barkeeper left to clean his plate once finished and was in the middle of drying it when he heard something familiar.

It was a sad tune which rang out in the confines of his mind, it echoed with an odd combination of grand piano and electric guitar, but the strums harmonised in such a way that each note felt imbued with sorrow, it didn't take him long to recognise the song.

The barkeeper quickly rushed back to the countertop where his radio was quietly shaking informing him of an incoming call. Wordlessly he tapped twice on the side of the device declining it.

'What was that?' Theda asked curiously.

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Palm could barely speak opting to just sit on a chair shivering to himself than respond.

'Woah, hey, are you alright?!' the spirit yelped in slight alarm.

Looking down at himself he noticed that his hands arms were deceptively still whilst his chest almost convulsed visibly. He could feel his heart threaten to break out of his ribcage in fear, his neck and back felt hot and his face was gaunt. Thinking back on it they always seemed to call just when things were going well, as if the world would never let him go of his past mistakes, only ever giving him time to forget just to shock him again.

'Palm look at me, Are. You. Ok.' Theda said, closing in on him.

Shaking himself out of the impromptu paralysis the barkeeper mumbled, 'Yeah...yeah I'm alright.'

'Want to tell me what that was?' She continued in a gentle tone.

'Nothing...Just family.' He said avoiding her eyes.

A flicker of recognition seemed to pass through her mind as the spirit suddenly looked straight upward, 'Ah.'

'It's nothing you need to worry about.' Palm said in an attempt to reassure his companion.

'You looked terrified, of course I'm worried. Besides aren't they why your here in the first place?' she said.

The barkeeper swallowed uncomfortably, and then turned around to face the exit of his store as if contemplating simply running away from the entire conversation. But eventually he turned back.

'...yep.' He said with some air of finality.

'Do you want to talk about it?' Theda asked as politely as she could manage. Palm could see her fidget awkwardly while she asked him.

'There's not much to say.' He said dully, 'Just a disappointment, I'm sure you can find similar sob stories all around Checkmate.'

The more he looked at her the more the barkeep could see his companion struggle to find the right words to respond. She then tried to pat him on the shoulder in consolation but after her hand fell through him she just cleared her throat in embarrassment.

'That's why you have to trust me Palm, don't worry they'll be singing your praises before you know it!' Theda said somewhat cheerfully.

The barkeeper fixed her with a blank gaze before speaking, 'Whatever you say...I'm going to turn in for the night, I'll talk to you tomorrow.'

He stood up to leave walking slowly, leaving the spirit to wonder what she had said wrong.

It was early the next morning and the barkeeper had wrapped himself in a cocoon of fourteen blankets. It was really very warm in his living quarters and he should have already gotten up to open for the day instead of sweating in his bed, but he didn't feel like doing it.

Instead he opted to shy away from the harsh rays of sunlight which sneaked their way past his closed curtains.

'You know that this isn't going to help you.' Theda commented from above him, 'You'll have to wake up at some point.'

His left half of his brain told him that she was right. The right half said that she was a whiny baby, and that drowning under several blankets was an emotionally valid response.

'Don't wanna.' He settled on, sleeping made him feel much better than the night before but he still wasn't willing to get up. Unfortunately his bodies increasing temperature disagreed with him.

'I finally got that plan together that I was talking about.' The spirit whispered right next to his ears.

Palm eventually decided that enough was enough and flung all of the covers off of himself.

'I knew you would see it my way!' Theda said doing a small victory jig.

'It was that or die of heatstroke.' the barkeeper deadpanned, 'And I'd like to die a much cooler death, no pun intended.'

'Well either way you got a job to do so chop chop, get in gear and head out.' She ordered, 'You'll need your power suit.'

Palm then got up and threw on a random combination of clothes from his wardrobe and moved to exit his now much cleaner room. Ever since his companion had shared his room with him he was forced to clean up even though she didn't even sleep there. Or at all for that matter. The physical axe she emerged from lay on a sword rack in place of a model katana, something he bought after not knowing where to leave it while his bar was open. He took it with him on his way out.

Making his way to the storage room, Palm heard the tell-tale signs of an arcade machine with loud pixelated screams and death noises. Entering the room he saw a fully formed suit of armour becoming increasingly enraged at the plastic box, slamming the few buttons with fervour.

'Good morning Palm,' The suit said, 'I will be with you in just a moment.'

'Good morning to you too armour, man we really ought to give you an actual name.' He replied.

'There is no need for that, I live to -Dammit!- Serve' the power suit said in-between curses.

After some calming down, and coaching by the barkeeper he finally managed to pry the armour away from the machine. It shrunk down into a more portable form and the three made their way out into the streets of the city. Following the floating spirit Palm looked around in wonder.

The city had been practically born anew with there being no previous sign of any disrepair or any derelict buildings. Everything had been replaced with all sorts of businesses, shops and housing areas. The former of which announced their presence both loudly and aggressively with large eye-catching pieces of advertisement.

"Do you need to protect your homes? Come on down to BIG GUY'S where we have turrets and tesla's for the biggest and strongest on the block!" was written in big blocky red font across several billboards. Palm smirked inwardly, even with all the new establishments BIG GUY's was still a giant in the industry, a Checkmate classic. He then looked across the street to see equally large and boasting stores, his smile turned into a frown. Maybe it was just him but the turret store didn't seem as all-encompassing as he remembered.

'This layer is a lot more different.' He muttered to himself.

'Seems like all that investment they've been talking about is finally paying off, good thing it did too.' Theda replied.

'So, what is it that we're doing?' The barkeeper asked.

'I'm thinking of signing you up for the Supernatural Squadron Association' she said.

'That's, really bold of you.' He said, it was somewhat surprising but not particularly. the SSA was known to be a cutthroat company which held month long try-outs which were open to everybody and anybody. You were allowed to bring whatever you wanted going in and would be measured on personal strength, loyalty and teamwork. Those accepted would then be trained vigorously into a group directly under the command of any of the Supernaturals on that planet.

It was the dream of many people to work under humanities celebrities, and so the competition was fierce and long. The reason why he was surprised was that she thought he even stood a chance against people that have more money strength and backing than he did.

'Well I looked into it, the SSA is just putting down it's roots with the new Supernaturals in Checkmate so you actually stand a decent chance.' the spirit said, 'That and the fact that most of your competition should be 'failures' makes you look pretty good in comparison.'

'Thanks Theda I can tell you really believe in me.' He retorted sarcastically.

She simply shrugged her shoulders, 'Let's just get you to the building so you can sign-up, you can complain later.'

'All right,' He said taking a deep breath, 'Let's get this show on the road.'