"Wait- she's- uhhh-"

"Shut up, Brock," Mikael and Aphrodite chorused. Still stunned, Brock did just that. Aphrodite sat back down in her chair, but her eyes were flaming.

"I want to know what's going on, Operator Thorne."

"You're not cleared," Mikael replied instantly.

"Then tell the Director to find a fucking way to clear me, because that kid is not normal."

"And what makes you say that?" Mikael questioned neutrally.

"Excuse me? I was with him when that Overlord grabbed us last night, and I saw the Council recording. Nobody gets away from one of those fuckers when they have time to set up. I don't care how good your team is, it just doesn't happen. Not to mention," her eyes narrowed, "he sure wasn't acting like an ennenn when I met him, yet he ended up working with you all."

Mikael's own eyes tightened.

"You're drawing some dangerous assumptions, Aphrodite. You talk about them with anyone?"

"Do I look like an idiot? Of course I haven't told anyone, because I just put two and two together. He's dumb enough to be cooperating with you willingly, isn't he?"

"You," Mikael snarled, "are lucky the Director thinks you can be reasoned with, otherwise I would have your head here and now. Do not tell anyone about this."

"Fuck me," she said in wonder, ignoring the threat, "all that power and he's just giving it to you. The Council's gonna go batshit if they figure it out."

"And how can I trust you to stay quiet?" Mikael asked in a too-quiet tone. "When you're meeting with the Capitalist Collective?"

"I'll meet with anyone who can help me get rights for people who need them," Rin snapped, "but trust me to have some discretion. Getting any sort of recognition that we're more than property isn't worth much if I'm not alive to enjoy it."

"They're capitalists," Mikael ground out, "and the foothold we've given them is already too much. All they want is to choke the life from whatever they get their hands on."

"Well, they're willing to come to the negotiating table with us sekkies, which is more than I can say for the rest of you."

"Because they want to use you!"

"Like I'm not already being used?" Aphrodite yelled back, pointing at her collar. "At least they'll give me some choice in how it happens!"

"You already have as much choice as we can afford to give you," Mikael said tiredly, "and we're getting off-topic. This conversation can wait for another day."

"Then why, exactly, are you fucking up my dinner party?"

"I need you to inspect him," Mikael pointed at Brock, who had been watching the verbal volleys fly back and forth with a stupefied expression, "for harem tampering. We've already had one attempt today, and his defenses are, if I'm being frank, non-existent."

"Noticed that yesterday," Aphrodite grumbled. "Another reason I told you the kid is weird."

"And the Director paid attention to your debriefing, which is why we're here. If you hadn't flown off the handle, I'd have informed you."

"If I hadn't flown off-" Aphrodite clenched her teeth together, then with a conscious effort smoothed out her face. "You and your fucking mindgames. Fine. I'll take a look."

Her eyes focused on Brock with a curious intensity, as if she was looking through him into some deeper space. A slight frown marred her cherubic features, and she began twisting a strand of her hair between her fingers in an unthinking motion. Eventually she turned her attention back to Mikael.

"...there might be something there," she bit her lip uncertainly, "but I can't tell. There's too much interference, and his emotional state is all over the place."

"Dammit," Mikael breathed out.

"You can see my emotions?" Brock asked curiously.

"Kind of," Aphrodite replied. "It's like examining a bunch of threads in a tapestry, but way more complicated, because each thread is its own weaving as well, with its own threads, and so on. You've got signs of obvious tampering from at least three different sources," she ticked off her fingers, "me, this dickbag, and... looks like... Warlord, right?"

Mikael grunted noncommitally and she continued.

"But, like I said, your mental state is a mess right now, which makes it even harder to pick out what's supposed to be your normal weave. There are frayed ends and knots everywhere, and some of your threads are twisting in ways I've never seen before. Someone could be using an incredibly subtle approach, you could be in the middle of a breakdown, or it could be both. Knowing this fucked up world, it's probably both." She look at Mikael again. "If there's deliberate manipulation in there, whoever's doing it is higher level than I am."

Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

"And you're the best we have," Mikael said reluctantly. "This just keeps getting better and better." He pulled his magiphone out and another swirl of red-black haze rose and isolated him further, leaving Brock and Aphrodite alone at the table.

"Are you doing okay?" she asked carefully, after several seconds of silence. Brock shrugged, looking up from where he'd been staring blankly at his hands.

"Uhhh, I guess?" He considered the spiky ball of hurt and confusion still roiling behind the trauma spell. "Probably not, though."

Aphrodite clasped her hands on the table, fingers worrying each other.

"Have they offered you treatment for RD- reality displacement? I saw some pretty obvious signs of it."

"Yeah. Supposed to start counseling tomorrow."

"...good." She ducked her head a bit, loose hair swinging in front to hide her eyes. "I'm glad you made it away from that Overlord."

"Uhhh, yeah, you too." Brock realized this was the first time they'd seen each other since the Overlord had kidnapped both of them last night. "I was worried he was going to hurt you while we were frozen, and I wouldn't be able to stop it."

"I told you I'm not a damsel in distress," Aphrodite snapped back, but there was a hint of humor in her voice. "Still, probably better you took those hits than me."

Brock thought back to the brief recording she'd seen, one that didn't even encompass a fraction of the violence his fight with the Overlord had contained. Violence he'd relished in, or was that Starak, still in his mind somewhere?

"Uhhh, yeah," he said in a subdued voice. "Probably."

They fell into an awkward silence again. It was broken a moment later by Mikael's reappearance. "Okay," he said, the haze around him abruptly dropping and revealing a floating screen with the Director's face on it, "you're the boss." The screen swiveled towards Brock and Aphrodite.

"Councilor Softheart," the Director said smoothly, "I'm afraid I have some unpleasant news."

"Oh, for fuck's sake, now what?"

"Pursuant to the Necessary Needs clause of the Manford/Hawlings Extra-Dimensional Invader Convention, under subsection-"

"You're ennenning me?!" Aphrodite squawked in outrage. "What the fuck?"

"Relax, Councilor," the Director replied in a soothing tone, "I will not be tasking you with combat operations. I simply need you to keep an eye on Brock here via regular checkups. As you have so adeptly pointed out, he is woefully unequipped to resist emotional manipulation. You are uniquely placed to inform us if another party seeks to control him."

Aphrodite scowled.

"You sneaky old fuck. He didn't run into me last night by accident, did he?"

"I'm afraid you aren't cleared for that level of detail in our ongoing investigation," the Director said apologetically.

"The fuck I'm not. Give me one good reason why I should go along with your little scheme if you're going to keep me in the dark."

"You will have my everlasting gratitude for your cooperation."

"Not good enough."

"No," the Director smiled slightly, "I rather suspected it would not be. Very well then." His mien turned serious. "Councilor Softheart, upon the successful completion of this operation, I am prepared to place my full power behind your proposed plan of Sekkie rehabilitation and eventual reintroduction to society, including the granting of full citizenship rights thereof."

Aphrodite's jaw slowly dropped open.

"You... will? Seriously?"

"Yes. However, for the success of the operation, it is imperative you keep Brock's cooperation with us secret, as well as your own conscription."

She sucked in a deep breath.

"That's... illegal. Ennenns are required to be reported to the Council."

The Director's eyes gleamed.

"Not quite. Under subsection fifty four, clause thirteen dash gamma, appendix three delta eighteen, a Necessary Needs assignment is required to be reported to a Councilor, who then relays that information to the Council as a whole. However, the timeframe under which that Councilor must report the information is left to their discretion, as long as it occurs before they leave the Council."

Aphrodite shook her head in bemused awe.

"You sneaky old fuck. You're really going to trust me with this? If someone finds out, they'll come for both our heads, and I mean that literally. You're asking a Sekkie to subvert the Council itself."

"I have no other choice," the Director responded simply. "I am not unsympathetic to your overall aims, and I need your powers as much as you need mine. We are in a position to help each other immensely."

Aphrodite worried at one of her curls again, nose scrunched up in thought.

"I... need to think on this."

"I can give you five minutes," the Director said ruefully, "but I'm afraid I'll need an answer by then. I know it is not much time for such an important decision, and I apologize."

Aphrodite didn't reply, instead slowly standing from the table. She began pacing back and forth in the small space contained by Mikael's red-black haze ability, attention focused inward, occasionally mumbling something to herself as if having an internal argument.

A little over three minutes later, she sat back down.

"...okay. I'm in."

"Excellent-"

But you," she pointed at the Director, interrupting him, "better come through on your end when this is all over. Speaking of which," she rubbed her chin, "how am I supposed to know when this is all over?"

"...I think it will be quite clear to all of us," the dapper orc replied after some thought. "Thank you for your assistance. I'll leave it to you and Brock to coordinate your meetings - we need him checked at least three times a week, but it is up to you and your schedule. I would prefer discretion if possible."

"Pfft, yeah, whatever, I'll make it work," Aphrodite flipped a hand at him dismissively. "Can I get back to my dinner party now?"

"By all means. Farewell, Councilor Softheart."

The projected screen disappeared back into Mikael's magiphone, and he pocketed it. At the table, Aphrodite pulled out her own magiphone and swiped on it in Brock's direction.

"There, you've got my biosig now. I'll be in touch." She made a shooing motion at Mikael. "You can see yourselves out. I've got a party to run."

The two stood up, and as the red-black haze surrounding them dissipated and the carnal sounds of the gathering resumed, a horribly familiar voice echoed from Brock's coat along with a soft chime.

"Brock! You got your first contact! Let's make a date! I have seven million, three hundred thousand and twelve love songs! I can show you how to hip thrust!"

Brock slammed his hand in his pocket to keep Bindy from flying out, knocking over the chair in his haste to silence the still-burbling magiphone. Professionally stone-faced, Mikael started walking back towards the entrance, body language betraying no emotion, and Brock scrambled to follow.

"You know, you can change your personal assistant in the settings menu," Aphrodite called out at Brock's retreating form, a large grin spreading across her face.

"I KNOW!" Brock shrieked, trying to hurl his magiphone into the pool, but halfway there it zoomed back to him on a trail of rainbow sparkles, Bindy vigorously hip-thrusting above it in full projected splendor. With much amusement, quite a few of the party-goers began emulating the motion, jiggly bits jiggling everywhere, and Brock howled as he fled the mansion, chased by the still-energetically gyrating Bindy.

"...Black Cats." The pixie bouncer shook their head in disgust as the front door slammed shut behind the two Squad Six members. "Bunch of sickos."