I can be a bit of a chatty person, but once I get read my Miranda rights I shut the fudge up until my mom shows up at the station. I suspect that she's going to be furious with me, but to my surprise the first thing she does when she walks into the interrogation room is run up and scoop me into a firm hug.

I stiffen at the unexpected touch. Mom doesn't hug me much as a general rule; she knows I haven't been a super touchy person since the sexual assault case, and she's frankly not all that fond of physical contact herself. I'm not sure what to do for a good while when she embraces me, but eventually I awkwardly return the hug, giving her a firm squeeze back until she breaks away.

My mother looks me up and down, her eyes settling on the torn-up mess that is the lower half of my shirt, little more than a series of shreds stained with black blood. Her face sets into the rock-hard expression she tends to get before she rips into someone with the burning fury of a thousand Karens, and she turns her glare to the policeman in the room.

"Leave," she orders. "I need to discuss the situation with my client privately."

The policeman doesn't even respond, just getting up and walking out of the room. Then, my mother returns her gaze to me.

"What happened?" she demands.

"A guy walked into the store with a shotgun and tried to kill me," I answer. "I tried to talk him down, it didn't work, so he shot me and I cut his arm off."

"In that order?" she presses. Ha. There's my mom. Not 'holy shit, you got shot?' But 'is this your fault?'

"In that order," I nod, and go on to explain everything that happened in a bit more detail. We discuss the legal ramifications of things, and she seems to think I have a very clear self-defense case; given the circumstances, I would have apparently been well within my rights to straight-up kill the man instead of just maiming him, under Tennessee law. She'll need to see the security footage and talk to the witnesses to be sure, but it sounds to her like we'll be okay. It's only after she establishes all this that she finally asks if I'm alright.

"...How are you still alive, Hannah?" my mother asks.

"Magic," I shrug. "I'm pretty sturdy."

"By your own account, your intestines, liver, and both kidneys were completely shredded by buckshot," my mother says. "But I don't even see a wound."

"Well it's a good thing there's video evidence, then," I sigh. "What do you want me to say here, Mom? It's not like I wanted this to happen."

"...No, of course not," my mother agrees. "It's just… well, you handled the situation in an exemplary manner. Truly. You did a wonderful job, and I'm proud of you. You protected people. You stayed calm. It's just… hard to imagine."

Uh, it's hard to imagine me handling a situation? Thanks for the vote of confidence, Mom.

"Can we get the charges dropped?" I ask, sighing in annoyance.

"That will depend on how much of a case the prosecution determines they have after reviewing the evidence," my mother answers, seeming as relieved to turn the conversation from personal things to work things as I am. "I can't give you a good answer on how likely that is until I see the witness statements and recordings, but I certainly think we have a chance."

We talk a bit more about the best ways to ensure that, and how to speak with the police about things, and eventually they return to conduct the interrogation. Most of the questions are straightforward, just asking me about facts they probably already know, but a couple of them get tricky.

"You've mentioned that when the man entered the building, his gun was hidden," the policeman says, "but you also claim to have attempted to get people to safety before the gun was ever revealed."

"Attempted and succeeded, as far as I know," I tell him. "Everybody else is alright, right?"

"My point is, if the gun was hidden, how were you aware of it?"

I glance at my mom, who gives me a short nod.

"...Well, I can see through solid objects," I admit. It's not exactly correct, but it's correct enough.

"You can… see through solid objects," the policeman repeats incredulously.

"Yeah man, I survived a shotgun blast to the stomach today, why is that weird?" I frown at him. "I can prove it, if you want. You're wearing tighty-whities, your wallet is in your back-left pocket, and it has seven different cards in it, three of which are credit or debit. Want me to read you the numbers?"

"N-No, that won't be necessary," he answers. Which is good. I can only read those old credit cards with the raised numbers, since my power just does shapes, not colors. Printed material is all just flat to me. One of the cards in his pocket is the newer, sleeker kind and I can't read the numbers at all. I can just tell it's a credit card because it has a chip.

A knock on the door interrupts the policeman's next question before it even begins, and a familiar face simply lets himself into the room, holding out one of those classic flip-down badges like he's in a goddamn movie.

"Don Taylor, Department of Homeland Security," he says. "We'll be taking this case off your hands."

"Hey, Donald!" I wave at him.

"...Hello, Ms. Hiiragi," he sighs. "And Mrs. Hiiragi as well. A pleasure."

"I'm sure," my mother responds flatly, her arms crossed. "You already know my daughter?"

"We've spoken once before," he confirms, holding the door open to invite the policeman to get the heck out of the room. "National security matters. Matters that I'm sure we could use to justify dealing with this problem quickly and easily for you."

Don's partner enters the room with him once the policeman leaves, and shuts the door behind him. It's just us and the feds now.

"Considering that my daughter has acted entirely within the bounds of the law, I can't say I'm aware of any problem you could be referring to," my mother answers. "There are no grounds for arrest in the first place, so I expect this misunderstanding to be dealt with rather swiftly."

Completely different words than the ones she gave me, and every one of them is laced with threat. My mom won't hesitate for a second before getting into a legal punchout with the feds, and she's making sure he knows it. But of course, the spook doesn't seem too intimidated.

"I certainly hope you're right," he answers, just as acidly. "But while we figure things out, I think it would be best if we had another conversation with Hannah, here."

"You don't have to respond to a single damn thing he says," my mother tells me flatly.

"I don't plan to," I assure her.

"We know how magic spreads," Don says flatly, sitting down in front of me. "Anyone with magic can spread magic, right?"

I can't help it. My face drops into a deep scowl, and Don takes that as the confirmation it is.

"That's the reason you wouldn't tell us," he continues. "It wasn't for our sake at all. It was for yours. You didn't want to admit that you're the vector for all of this."

"...And why do you suspect a person might be uninterested in telling you something like that?" I say flatly, crossing my arms.

"...Hannah," my mother warns.

"It was you who said that you wanted the government to be able to form policies and responses to the new legal issues that arise from magic," Don says, leaning forward to put his elbows on the table between us. "So I don't know. I have no idea what else you're hiding, Hannah. But I think this is a very good opportunity for you to fix that, and let us know what's actually going on. We want to work with you, Hannah."

"Do you now?" I ask. "Alright, so where are those laws and regulations at? What are your plans to deal with the inevitability of Pneuma mages? Show me you have some capacity to handle what you've already got, Don, and maybe I'll be impressed enough to give you more."

"...You're quite the arrogant little shit, aren't you?" he says, seeming somewhat stunned. "You really think it works that way? Kid, we're being nice to you. You get that, right? Do you want to make this a you versus us thing?"

I sigh. I guess he's got a point. If I wanted that, I wouldn't be here.

"...The problem is that I don't trust you not to acquire, hoard, and abuse any magic you gain access to," I explain bluntly. "The Department of Homeland Security doesn't exactly have a clean record vis-a-vis human rights. And I get you probably think that everything you do is necessary or just or both, but I don't. And I don't want to enable you. That goes for basically any government agency. I feel like I have to try to balance giving you enough to do your jobs with not giving you enough to start becoming the exact threats I'm trying to prepare you against."

"Well, what can I do to make you trust me, Hannah?" he asks.

I frown, thinking about that for a moment.

"...I don't know," I admit. "I guess it would be nice to have reasonable laws and regulations in place about what you're allowed to do with magic before I give it to you. I don't think I can ever trust you, but if people can at least hold you accountable, that'll be almost as good. Checks and balances for power are what America is supposed to be about, right?"

Emphasis on 'supposed to,' of course, but the government employee at least seems to take the comment well.

"That's a good answer," he says. "The problem, though, is that I don't have any power to write new laws into being, and the legislative branch is a damn sight slower than the rate magic-related problems seem to be cropping up. It seems to me that, if we can't guarantee your cooperation, the best response we have is to make sure you're locked up where you can't cause any more trouble."

"And there it is," I accuse. "Now that you're even slightly inconvenienced, the threats come out."

I'm not angry, though. For some reason, the words make me break out into a broad grin, stretching my mouth beyond the limits of a human expression.

"I'm genuinely unclear on why you would think this is a disproportionate response," Don sighs. "If you won't help us protect your homeland, we'll do it in spite of you. That is our job. And if you happen to be a threat to your homeland, we'll deal with that, too."

The more he talks, the more a strange, out-of-place feeling bubbles up inside me. It bursts out once he's done trying to be scary, a jubilant bundle of laughter that I can't help but release. It's just… it's so silly. After slaughtering pirates, rapists, cultists, monsters… things with actual power, this little human thinks he can intimidate me. He truly has no idea what I am.

I might not know either, but I know it's more than enough to laugh him off.

"Mind filling me in on what's so amusing?" he asks, seeming nonplussed.

"Well, it's just… you know," I chuckle, gesturing vaguely around us. "It's funny that you think you can scare me, I guess. That you think I'm here for any reason beyond the fact that I want to be. I mean… Goddess, I can imagine it now. You probably saw me get shot today and thought to yourself 'Yes! What a relief! We can always just use violence if things go bad.' You actually think you can deal with this with enough force, the same way you deal with everything. You truly have no idea how much I'm holding back."

"Why don't you enlighten me, then," he says, narrowing his eyes. "Are you implying you let yourself get shot?"

"Yes," I say bluntly. "Frankly, I could have avoided it pretty trivially, but I wanted his attention to stay on me so he'd be less likely to shoot a human instead. Why do you think I was so calm? At no point in the situation was I in danger."

I also just didn't want all my clothes to fall off, because that would have been extremely embarrassing. But still.

"Hannah!" my mother snaps. "That's enough."

"Sorry," I apologize automatically, though I'm not really feeling it. "I shouldn't act like I'm above the law."

"But do you believe you're above the law, Hannah Hiiragi?" Don asks.

Yes, the Goddess sings. Of course I am. I am Her favorite, which is as close to divine as a person can be. And it's true, isn't it? They could surround this building with a tank battalion and I could walk out like it was a normal day at the grocery store. Or I could just kill them all. Armor is meaningless. Firepower is meaningless. Without magic, they simply cannot hit me unless I allow it. Given how quickly I've been able to react to bullets so far, they might not even be able to surprise me, though I suppose I could potentially die if they sniped me from far enough away in my sleep.

That wouldn't be a satisfying end to Her game, though. Rather anticlimactic, all things considered, so I wouldn't be surprised if circumstances somehow conspired to wake me up shortly beforehand. Plus, y'know, I'd probably have to be a lot more annoying than this if I want the government to assassinate me. Which, uh, I don't.

"I think it's in everyone's best interest that nobody thinks I'm above the law," I tell him. "That's why I'm here, cooperating with the police. Will your people have any issues following the law in this clear-cut case of self-defense?"

He scowls at me, drumming his fingers on the table for a while as he chews on his thoughts.

"You want laws in place," he eventually says. "You want people to be safe."

"Yes," I agree firmly. "Absolutely. I want to work with you, Don, but I just don't have a lot of room to take risks here."

"What I'm worried about," he says slowly, "what I'm… required to worry about, because of my position, is the risks you're already taking. I don't think what happened here today is your fault, but I do think it's because of you. Do you understand the difference?"

"...Yes," I frown. "I didn't do anything wrong, but just existing the way I am is setting some kindling alight, isn't it?"

"Exactly," he nods. "And with what we've learned about how magic spreads, and with what you're claiming about holding back in order to prevent that… well, one has to wonder how hard you might be forced to escalate the situation, if it comes to that."

"Perhaps," I say, "you should focus your efforts on those who start the fires, rather than me."

"What I want to do is both," he says frankly. "But I understand that wouldn't be right. I get that, Ms. Hiiragi. So I have a few more questions for you."

"Ask away," I allow.

"How many other people have magic?" he asks. "In total."

"In this universe?" I ask. Well, there's me, Ida, Jet, Alma… I mean, I guess they don't consider themselves people, really, so maybe I should just count them as one. But yeah, then there's J-Mug, J-Mom, and… well, Val, technically, though she's not here. And Fartbuns, though he's also not a person and he can't spread magic because he can't name spells. "Uh, five to seven, depending on how you count."

"That's it?" he asks.

"To my knowledge, yes," I nod. "It's possible there are people I don't know about, but I wouldn't say it's super likely."

"And do you trust all of these people not to spread magic?" he presses.

"If I didn't, I'd be doing something about that," I answer. The J-Family is dumb but I'm pretty sure I've put the fear of the Goddess in them.

"Alright," he says. "Would you be willing to speak with some legislators?"

I blink.

"Pardon?"

"Legislators. Senators. Congressmen and congresswomen. You're the world's foremost expert on magic, aren't you? They'll need to talk to you, in order to put together some kind of law system for this."

This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

"Um," I say. "Well, yeah, I guess! I suppose… it would make sense for me to do that!"

Holy stromboli I'm going to be talking to the Senate? Aaaaaah!

"Alright. I'll float the idea to the guys upstairs. Not sure people will be comfortable meeting you in person, but I'll help the old farts set up a Zoom call if I have to."

"Uh. Yeah, s-sure, okay," I stammer. This is… not how I thought the conversation would go! "Should I give you my email or something?"

He snorts and stands up.

"We know what your email is, Ms. Hiiragi," he says flatly, and then he turns and leaves the room. Well. Okay then. I want to complain about the governmental invasion of privacy, but I guess I did meet the guy when he was stalking me in a car outside my house.

"...That was a foolish thing to do," my mother grouses.

"Maybe," I admit. "But it worked out, didn't it? Besides, I wasn't kidding, you know."

"About what?"

I turn and look her in the eyes. I can't remember the last time I've managed to do that.

"I'm only here because I want to be," I tell her. "No matter how they try to lock me up, I can walk out of here whenever I decide to."

My mother returns the stare with a sad look.

"...You've changed so much, Hannah," she says. "And I don't just mean your body. I can barely recognize you."

A lot of people have tried to kill me, Mom. And I've had to kill a lot of people in turn.

"I guess that's fair," I allow. "I can barely recognize myself."

Not long after that I'm let out of the police station, the maiming charges dropped. I'm surprised the government actually stepped in to help me out; I was really expecting them to escalate. I suppose it's not too late for that, but for now I'll be happy with how things turned out. I put my gloves on and pull out my phone on the drive home, finding an explosion of notifications and texts engorging my home screen with little red numbers. Uh-oh.

---

Yo what the fuCK IS THIS

---

Below, he posts a Twitter link that I quickly realize is a phone recording of me getting shot, including most of the lead-up to the entire situation. Which… fuck, okay, I guess that makes sense? Like, half a dozen people are pointing phones at me at any given moment while I work. I assumed they were taking pictures, but obviously some of them were taking videos; I just wasn't really paying attention to it.

…Of course a good chunk of people didn't flee the scene of a dude pulling out a shotgun on me because they were recording something for their followers. Of course.

---

"Do you think I'm afraid of you, sir?" Jesus fucking christ.

Right???

@DistractedDreamer Hannah holy shit is this real??? Are you okay???

---

There's quite a bit more on the freaking out and pinging me front, but I just skim through it and start typing an answer.

---

@Lana, Blood Ba’ham It's real and I'm okay. Hi everyone, sorry for the scare.

Oh thank god.

Er, I mean, thank the Goddess?

No. Don't do that.

Okay, sorry.

Hannah!!! Holy shit, I just… how are you alive?

Magic.

Oh my god, don't just say 'magic!' The dude blew your guts all over the wall! Explain!!!

I don't know what you want from me man, I can heal myself with magic. I'm fine. As far as I know the guy whose arm I chopped off is okay, too.

You mean the crazy bastard that shot you for no reason???

Yeah, that guy.

Hannah, I'm glad you're okay. You can be kind of scary sometimes. That video gave me chills.

You seem super fucking casual about all this

Yeah, I mean, it's not the first time I've been attacked by an insane person who thinks I'm inherently evil. It won't be the last time, either.

This isn't the first time???

No. It's the first time on Earth, I guess, but in the other universe there's a whole cult of people who exist for the sole purpose of killing anyone like me. Which is… not fun to deal with.

Holy shit. Uh. How do you deal with that? That sounds horrific.

By being better at killing than they are, I guess.

…Oh.

Youve killed people, Hannah?

Yeah.

How many?

Jesus fuck, Skarm, don't ask that.

I stopped counting recently. Over twenty, I think?

Woah.

I'm so sorry. That must be awful.

---

There's a lot I could say to that, but I just type 'yeah' and move on to the texts, assuring Ida and—to my surprise—Autumn that I am alive and well. It's pretty late in the day at this point, the sun setting by the time we get home. My phone buzzes again as I head up to my room, and my eyebrows rise as I see another text from Autumn.

Jet says they'll take care of the thing you asked for tonight.

Hmm? Oh. Oh! Valerie's phone!

Tell them thank you so much, I respond. And, uh, thanks to you too for being onboard, I guess.

It's no big deal, Alma answers. Gosh, I think this is the first time I've spoken to her since we broke up. Jet is fairly friendly when we have gym together, but Alma and I don't talk at all in Biology. I can't help but feel the need to break that silence, at least a little.

Have you been doing okay? I mean, please let me know if it's not okay to ask.

No, it's fine. I'm doing alright, Alma answers. It's just. Kind of mortifying trying to talk to you, after… you know. I want to. I'm still kind of addicted to you. But I hope we can still be friends?

Relief and fear war within me, and I'm not sure which I want to win.

Are you sure that's okay? I ask. I mean… I was awful to you.

You really weren't, Alma insists. Jet says you were an abuser, albeit an accidental one, but they've got a really broad definition of abuse. I'm… able to admit you fucked up, right now, so yeah. You definitely fucked up. But I don't think you're an abuser for it, and I definitely don't think you're a bad person. A bad girlfriend, maybe, but Jet and I both hope you can still be a good normal friend.

Relief. Relief wins. I start to cry a little. Holy shit, I didn't ruin everything. Or at least not enough to be undeserving of a second chance.

If you and Jet are sure that would be healthy for you, I'd love to still be your friend.

We'll start slow, but… I'd like that, Alma answers. And also, I wanted to say thank you. Because for everything you did wrong, you at least got Jet and I talking. It still freaks me the fuck out, and I still sort of resent them, but I can't deny that they're… helpful. For a lot of things.

I'm sure they'll be happy to read that from you, I answer

Ugh, yeah, don't remind me, Alma complains. I HATE the fact that they can read everything I write. You're still a body-stealing bitch, Jet!

I chuckle, chatting a bit more with Alma before I finally get sleepy enough for bed. I wake up immediately after passing out, as usual, and I'm quickly flooded with uncomfortable sensations. I feel cold, wet, soft, groggy… all the feelings I associate with a major molt, multiplied a hundredfold. Butter side down, of course I've had a huge molt today. I had to constantly use my self-transformation spell to repair multiple lethal wounds all clustered together in my guts at the same time. And when I use that Transmutation spell to repair one of my bodies, the other is affected as well… just with growth instead of healing. After all, the 'healing' my spell performs is really just 'shifting both of my bodies towards their final state,' and it just conveniently targets injuries first when determining what to do to me as a nice little treat from the Goddess.

So yeah, I've had a lot of transformation occur overnight. My freakishly stretched main body has finally separated out into a proper head and neck, complete with a fully-formed jaw for a maw and my eyes circling around the circumference in the same pattern as my new collection of eyes back on Earth… though none of the eyes are actually humanoid in appearance or shape yet. My head has also completely burst out of my chitin shell, and it doesn't have any new chitin growing overtop it—it's my first taste of skin in this body, and it's weird. Being covered in molting juice probably doesn't help, though.

The presence of a fully independent head and neck is far from the only set of changes my body has gone through, however. My limbs are continuing to specialize and reposition themselves, and though they're only partly-formed it's easy to tell which of my limbs are becoming my legs, which are becoming my hip-limbs, which are becoming my blade-limbs, and which are becoming my arms. Though in practical terms, I'm just sort of a weird mess of tangled, half-formed limbs.

My torso is bulbous and pear-shaped from transitioning out of a near-spherical state, and while my future arms have crawled most of the way up to what will one day be my shoulders, they aren't quite there, giving me a scrungly, knuckle-dragging lowness to my hands. I do kind of have hands, though, at least on two of my four arms. They only have three fingers, but one of those fingers is a thumb, and I might even be able to grab stuff with it! Only time will tell, but I'm excited about it. I'm less excited about how my growth has made me just over three feet tall, and with my legs all fucked up by the transition from spider-like to humanoid, that leaves me too big to comfortably carry but too undeveloped to walk efficiently on my own. What will one day be my hip-limbs are still low enough to easily work into how I walk, so I'm not totally screwed, but it'll be a learning process.

I am, in a word, hideous. This stage of my body has neither the dangerous, sexy strength of my humanoid form nor the cute, portable cuddliness of my hyperspider form. It's the worst of both worlds, the weaknesses of both emphasized in the liminal space before they can be purged or turned into strengths. I take a deep breath and try to move, letting out an uncomfortable groan at the icky sensations that surge all over my body.

"Refresh," the Goddess speaks aloud for me, since while I could probably handle this without summoning her, I want the power to rip this gunk off as soon as possible. I let my awareness expand around more of the room as I do so, taking advantage of the incantation to clean Sela, the beds, and all my friends while I'm at it. Obviously, this wakes them up, but I'm both not confident in my ability to move and absolutely ravenous, so I think I need to ask for help anyway.

"Soul Sight!" the Goddess barks for Helen as she leaps out of bed, her tail whipping around like a fan. "What's wrong, is something happening!?"

"We're good! Sorry, we're safe, everything is okay," I gurgle, my voice sounding weird. "Sorry, I'm just having Transmutation mage problems. I might need some non-urgent help."

"Oh, Goddess, okay," Helen sighs, sitting back down. "Shit, you really scared the fuck out of me."

"What happening…?" Kagiso gurgles, sitting up and yawning next to Helen, her lower pair of arms wrapping around the raptor girl and trying to pull her back into cuddle jail. Since our room only had two beds, Kagiso and Helen took one and Valerie took the other, while Sela and I volunteered for the floor. I almost decided to sandwich myself between Kagiso and Helen again, but the beds are pretty small so I didn't… and it's a good thing, too, or they'd all have gotten pretty disgusting from my molt. A frankly absurd amount of discarded skin and broken chitin is scattered around me now, and it's making me even hungrier.

"Uughlurgle," Valerie mumbles, twisting around in her bed for a little before emerging with a yawn. It would appear I'm not the only one to have undergone a decent chunk of changes tonight, and my best friend has received significant upgrades to both her fuzziness and her femininity. Her chest is very noticeable now, whether you happen to be able to see through clothing or not, and her, uh, other sexual characteristics are a lot smaller, though that one is obviously something I try not to think about and certainly isn't noticeable from the outside.

Regardless, the blonde fur over Valerie's body has gone from 'light dusting' to 'shaggy coat,' the sort of delightfully fuzzy texture that just makes you want to rub your face all over it. Her tail is a bit longer too, and the claws on her toes are starting to grow in, although…

"Hey Valerie!" I say. "Good morning! Would you, uh, mind standing up real fast?"

"I dunno if I can do anything 'fast' right now," she mumbles, though she does hop out of bed, wearing nothing but a t-shirt and underwear.

"Huh," I mutter. "Hey Helen, go stand next to her."

"...Oh, I see," Helen hums, extracting herself from Kagiso's devious, cozy trap and walking over to Val. "You'd better tell me what's up with you, though."

"I will, I will," I promise, slowly trying to stagger to what counts for my feet so I can start eating my molt. "Any chance I could motivate you to get up and grab me food, Kagiso?"

"No," Kagiso answers, and hides her head underneath the covers. Damn it, I can't even be mad. She's too cute.

Anyway, when Helen and Valerie stand side-by-side, my suspicion is made obvious. Valerie is shorter. A lot shorter. Which on one hand… good for her! She's honestly never liked being tall. But… it's still strange. After all, as much as Val would approve of this change, Nature's Madness doesn't make changes based on what the target would approve of. It makes changes based on how I see the person, and since Valerie has towered over me for my entire life like some terrifying giant, I see her as pretty damn tall. So why would she be shrinking?

"This is really weird," Valerie says, though she seems to be focusing more on her fur and chest than her height. She rubs her hand against the opposite forearm, feeling out the fur and also using it as an excuse to 'subtly' press her biceps into her boobs, desperate to feel them there but not wanting to just straight-up grope herself in front of everyone. I guess it makes sense for her to focus more on those changes; after all, while she's clearly shorter than before, she's still taller than everyone else.

"What did she say?" Helen asks.

"Oh, she said it feels weird. Valerie, do you have another copy of that translation spell?"

"Yeah, one sec," Valerie mutters absentmindedly, squatting down to search through her sketchpad and absentmindedly ripping out the spell and casting it, her mind clearly still focused elsewhere.

"You can understand me now, yeah?" Helen asks. "You doing okay? If fur is anything like feathers, that shit'll keep you up at night. I'm kind of jealous of you getting to take it slow. I'm still trying to figure out why the fuck I keep feeling shit when I breathe through my mouth."

"Heat sources, maybe?" Valerie says absentmindedly, looking behind herself and wiggling her thick, fuzzy tail. "Like a snake? I could see Hannah conflating snakes and other reptiles."

"Hey!" I protest. "Don't make fun of my subconscious associations! Also, I'm really really sorry, Helen."

"Again, you saved my fucking life, Hannah," Helen says, waving me off. "I'm not gonna say I enjoy this; there's perks, but there's just as many downsides. I tore our fucking sheets apart just last night with these damn talons."

She wiggles her huge toes for emphasis.

"...And more relevantly, this will make it really difficult for me to hide for the entire rest of my life, the moment someone associates 'raptor girl' with 'chaos mage.' But still, if you put me in that situation again and gave me a choice? Fuck yeah, I'd tell you to cast the spell. It's weird and disturbing, but it can be fun too, and it's a thousand times better than fucking dying. So seriously, stop projecting your ex-girlfriend's problems onto me."

Uh. Ouch, but I guess that's fair.

"Alright," I nod awkwardly. "Thanks, Helen. You're the best."

"Yeah, yeah," she grumbles. "What's the plan for today, then?"

"I mean, I guess we try to figure out how to leave town without Sela giving anyone a panic attack," Valerie answers. "It's beautiful here, but we don't want to delay trying to save the world from eternal flame for too long, right?"

"Can you not just cast that illusion on it again?" Helen asks.

"I mean yeah, I could, but I'm not going to," Valerie answers. "Sela hated it."

"Affirmative: I somehow managed to underestimate the sheer, disgusting wretchedness of possessing a human form. Modest admittance: this is my failing. I thought I understood the depths to which meat was horrid, but even after hundreds of years, I still have much to learn."

"Yeah, I hate you too, bot," Helen snorts. "Alright, fine. We gonna disguise it some other way, or are we just burning our bridges here and running like hell?"

"I mean, just walking through town with Sela and acting like it's totally normal could be really funny," I opine.

"Yes I agree!" Sela screeches immediately.

"Hannah, that's just going to get people to attack us," Helen scowls. "Sela just wants to use this as an excuse to kill people."

"Which would be funny!"

"I dunno, do you really think that'll happen?" I ask. "I mean, think about it. If we're just walking through town not attacking anybody, who would step up and take the first shot against all of us? And if people confront us without attacking, we're just going to be telling them that we're leaving. So they'll… y'know. Let us go."

"Uh," Helen says. "I mean, I guess that makes some kind of sense, but…"

"Hannah," Valerie butts in. "Why did your transformation progress so much? Did something happen on Earth?"

"Oh, um, yeah," I admit. "I got shot. Somebody just kind of randomly walked into my workplace and tried to kill me. But I just chopped his arm off and I'm fine."

"So even though the majority of people are logical, reasonable actors most of the time, you can never discount the fact that somebody is just going to have an absurd amount of hate that leads them to attack people for stupid reasons?" she says flatly.

I scowl at her, because I can do that now. Stupid logic, getting in the way of fun.

"...I'll draw an invisibility spell," Valerie sighs. "It'll take me a few hours, but then we can get moving without too much attention. So can you please stop taking unnecessary risks? I don't… I don't want you to get shot at, no matter how 'fine' you are afterwards."

"Sorry," I mumble. "You're right. Thanks for keeping my head on straight, Valerie. I'm honestly a huge mess without you, aren't I?"

"You're a huge mess with me, too," she smirks. "But I do my best. I'm glad I can help you, Hannah."

Her tail wriggles a bit and I smile, staggering into something like a sitting position.

"Well in that case," I say, "I'm pretty sure I just doubled my total body weight, so I really, really need some meat."

She rolls her eyes and starts to look for some, but then Helen volunteers to get breakfast for everyone so Valerie can start drawing her spells. We chat away while she gets set up, happy to just have this time together.

Even counting all the holes that got punched in my gut, today has been a pretty great day.