I had never paid much attention to sex, or romance. But as I watched Simon awkwardly try to talk to me about killing people, I got a brief view into how uncomfortable those conversations could be.

We were in the clear, legally speaking. It was a good shoot. And the boneyard was classified, as was anything that happened there. We wouldn't have any police sniffing around to see what happened.

“Have you killed anyone before?” he asked, getting to the question that was actually bothering him, “Because you seem very calm.”

“I'm always calm,” I replied, not wanting to disclose what was going on in my head. I still wasn't sure what was going on, or why. The last thing I wanted was to be labeled as a delusional psychopath.

I frowned, realizing that I hadn't gotten to talk with Simon after I killed those gangsters. “Honestly, I thought I would feel something. But maybe something is broken inside of me, because I don't feel anything.”

He shifted awkwardly in his plastic chair. We had sent everyone away and had the break room to ourselves. “Ah,” Simon said, struggling to choose his next words, “Well, I suppose it's better than breaking down afterwards.”

“It’s a lot to take in,” I replied, deciding to be as honest as I could, given the circumstances. “I guess I'm still processing things.”

“Killing someone is a lot like losing someone,” explained Simon, relieved to finally have a chance to help, “Everyone processes it in their own way, and in their own time.”

“Good to know,” I said as I looked around the room, trying to avoid eye contact. I still had no idea what had happened to me, or why. But I had decided to treat my current circumstances as real, because it was the least shitty way forward.

The only other options were to assume that I was either crazy, or dead. Neither was particularly appealing. But if it was real, then there was the question of how to approach future problems.

Tonight was the night when two katzen infiltrators snuck into my apartment and tried to kidnap me. Or rather, would sneak into my apartment. The tenses were getting confusing.

Either way, unless I did something to stop it, three people were about to die. The two kidnappers probably deserved it, but the security guard definitely didn't.

However, if I didn't let things play out I'd never meet Sapphire. Or Rook. Or Sparky. But I also might not end up saddled with Echo, so there were some pros to deviating.

I looked back at Simon. He was studying my facial expressions intently. “You seem to be wrestling with a decision.”

I facepalmed. Of course the hund who raised me could read me like a book. “It's not something you can help with.”

He raised his hands in mock surrender. “You might be surprised to hear it. But I wasn't always stuck behind a desk.”

“Oh, I know. Believe me, I know. I have recently become very aware of our family history, and it's not for the faint of heart.” I realized my mistake as soon as I spoke, but tried to move past it. “Trust me. If I thought you could help, I'd ask in a heartbeat.”

“Try me,” Simon said, crossing his arms.

I felt the silence between us grow increasingly uncomfortable. “Fine. If you really want to know, I think I might be losing my mind. One moment I was in Mohi, six months from now, the next I was back here.”

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Once the words started flowing I couldn't stop myself. I told him about the people coming to kidnap me, and how I knew about his plans for Katzenlund. Simon sat there through it all, not saying a single word.

“I'll bet you think I'm crazy,” I finished, trying to read the expression on his face. Simon seemed angry for some reason. It was one of the few times I could remember seeing him lose his cool.

He took a breath and let it out slowly, calming himself. “No. I don't think you're crazy, Hase. In fact, based on what you know, I'm pretty sure that it's real.”

“Wait, you believe me?” I asked incredulously.

“I do,” Simon said as he reached into his holster and pulled out a pistol, “Which is why I have to do this.”

I watched in shock as he pointed the gun at my head. “Son of a-”

***

I woke up in GG’s helicopter. There was nothing that could have prepared me for being murdered by my own father. But it definitely made me realize that he was not to be trusted. I decided to keep my temporal issues to myself from now on.

I sleepwalked through the range visit and André’s arrest. This time Gigot managed to take him down without assistance. Simon and I had a chat afterwards, but my attention was elsewhere. I still couldn't believe that he had shot me.

It made no sense, unless of course Simon somehow understood the rules of whatever was going on. I stopped him in the middle of a monologue about the nature of evil.

“I think I need some space,” I said, “You know, to process things properly.”

Simon nodded amicably. “Alright, just remember that I'm always here for you when you're ready to talk.”

“Thanks, Dad. I'll keep that in mind,” I told him as I made a beeline for the nearest exit.

***

It was strange how seemingly random things took on new meaning the second time around. That night as I sat by my pool drinking a beer, I thought about the discarded food wrapper I had found. It was from a popular brand of meat based meal bars.

The katzen intruders had stopped for a snack, unable to resist the draw of what would be considered a luxury in their homeland. Real meat was rare in Katzenlund, and they hadn't missed the opportunity to raid my pantry.

That also, in hindsight, explained who had eaten all the beef jerky at Simon’s house. It was almost comical to think of kidnappers and assassins getting distracted by food. But when someone grew up in abject poverty, I could understand them wanting to take what they could.

Seeing them as people didn't help with my current moral conundrum. If anything, it made it worse. What had once been unknowable invisible tech ninjas were now reduced to hungry idiots playing dress up.

The expedient answer was to call in a response team from King Aerospace and have them deal with it. Rook and Sparky would clean house, neatly eliminating the problem.

I decided to take a different approach this time. If it backfired I could always start over, or call for help. I knew from the last time that the intruders were poorly equipped to handle a hostage, or defend themselves.

There was a restaurant at the base of the apartment building that did overpriced takeout. I called in an order for two medium rare steaks, some fries, and a vanilla milkshake. They offered to deliver it, but I declined.

A half hour later I returned home to my apartment with food in hand. I had been concerned that the intruders would attack if I tried to leave. But either the possibility of more meat had stopped them, or they were too slow to catch me as I walked to the elevator.

I left the steaks on the kitchen counter, and retreated back outside with my fries and shake. Then, I waited for my unwanted guests to take the bait.

A little while later I was rewarded with the sound of something vaguely katzen sized falling from the ceiling. I smiled as the sound of breaking glass told me that I had gotten the other one too.

I walked inside to find that both intruders weren't moving, or breathing. Their stealth suits had switched off and turned black, proof that the person inside was no longer among the living.

“Well… shit,” I said as I surveyed the carnage.