Jade’s phone hasn’t stopped vibrating for hours now. She’s by herself, in her house, lying in bed. When she first saw the video, she texted Madeleine and Jessica, told them both I’m not coming to the Institute today. That was it.

Surely, they’d want her to make a statement. Surely, they’d want her to cry in front of the camera. To put up a show.

When she first saw the video, her entire body gave in. She collapsed on the floor. Her phone kept playing the video. Emily and Abigail’s cries of pain; Diego and Rachel’s laughter.

She immediately wipes the tears off her face and activates her ability while getting up. Which way is the fastest, she wonders. The easiest for her side effects to show. She opens her balcony door and throws herself off the second floor.

When she hits the floor, Emily’s shouts still resonate on her head. Aminu’s face comes to her mind.

Should I just… deal with this… be there for him? He can’t… won’t… know how to react to this… when Ánh died…

She remembers how Aminu turned non-verbal for a long time. Was it five months? That was only three years ago. Not that long ago. Would the same happen again?

Tears begin to fall again. She punches herself in the stomach, each punch diminishing her emotional pain.

Aminu can take care of himself. He’s a grown boy.

She headbutts the wall next to her.

Who cares about their pain? Life is pain.

She goes back to her room, grabs her phone from the floor, and calls Jessica Miller.

“Jade, I’ve been calling you! Where are you? You should do a reaction to Emily’s-”

“I saw that you send me this… what is it?”

“Just some bullet points for your speech! Hope it helps. Last time you didn’t follow my notes…”

“Well, I have a better idea… again.”

Jade hangs up, leaving Jessica on the other side talking to herself. She goes to the kitchen and grabs a lighter, goes back to her room, changes to an all-black attire, and starts recording.

“Rachel Moore,” she smiles widely, “this one is for you! You see, you are an element controller, here’s you,” she ignites the lighter, making a flame appear, “and I am invincible, like your father used to be,” she smiles again, “before he forced the government to kill him.”

She puts her palm on the flame and shows that it isn’t burning.

“Ironic, isn’t it?” she laughs, “that you are bound to repeat your father’s fate? Forcing the government to kill you because you refuse to face the consequences of your actions. And the biggest irony of it all!”

Jade laughs and smacks her lips.

“Is that I,” she emphasizes it, “I will be the one to bring you down. Using the same ability that your father had!”

The video immediately gathers millions of visualizations and reactions. Most people are pleased that Jade Harris, the world’s most powerful deviant, is showing Rachel Moore who is in charge. Some criticize that she isn’t using the bracelet outside of the Institute. Those comments are promptly removed by Jessica’s team.

***

Aminu woke up like any other day. He drank an entire glass of water, did his mobility exercises, went for a run, came back, took a shower, and grabbed the hoodie that Abigail gave him before she was abducted.

He put his headphones in and faced the crowded street on the way to the Institute. He notices that people are even more glued to their phone than usual and when he enters the lobby everyone stares at him. Whispering things that he can’t and doesn’t want to hear.

He opens the elevator door to the classroom floor, and everyone keeps staring at him. His fingers begin to snap, and he turns the volume louder. Stops on Ánh’s memorial for a little and goes to the coffee machine in the fish tank hall.

A former classmate approaches him. He hasn’t seen her in a while. She works for the marketing department.

“Aminu,” she touches him, and he immediately flinches.

“Kate, how… how are you?” he removes his headphones and focuses on the fish tank.

“How am I? Aminu… how are you?”

Aminu’s phone rings. It’s Padma calling.

“Good. How are you? I have to answer this. Have a good day, Kate.” He grabs his coffee and steps aside. “Yes?”

“Aminu, are you grabbing your coffee?”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

“Yes.”

“Can we meet at Abigail’s office?”

“No. It’s Abigail’s.”

“Ok, let’s meet at my office. Now.”

He puts his headphones on again, walks while ignoring the glaring stares, takes the stairs instead and meets Padma in her office. She asks him to sit down.

“Have you… seen the news?”

“No.”

“There’s a video online, Aminu. Of Emily and Abigail. You shouldn’t see it.”

“Why?”

“Because it shows them being hurt.”

“Rachel Moore is hurting them?”

“Yes. But they are alive.”

“They are alive. But hurt.” He sits on the floor and begins rocking back and forth. “How many more people will violence take from me? Adichie, Ánh, now Abigail and Emily.”

Ánh Nguyễn. He thinks she was murdered, but she is alive. They were friends. I wish there was a way that they’d get what they want without hurting you, Aminu.

***

After their massive fight, Emily retrieved to her room, to her fetal position. She plays Jade’s video over and over. Noticing how cold she is. Is it only a side effect of her ability here or her true self?

Nothing on Jade’s video references Emily. Jade says nothing about her. She’s only focused on overpowering and bringing the devil to justice. Is this who she truly is? Is Abigail right that Emily being out of the picture is the best that ever happened to Jade? Would she be mad rather than happy to see her return?

What about her parents? They made an announcement when she was first taken. But hadn’t said anything else. This video, maybe her father had something to do with it.

Were they lying to me? She bites the skin on her lips. Wondering if what Rachel and Alex said had any resemblance to the truth. They need her. She’s the world’s most powerful deviant. Of course, they’d lie. But what if they are telling the truth? She can’t risk the slightest chance of it. She can only go back when she knows for sure who tried to kill her at the Institute. Who’s behind the video now?

Emily looks up online people’s reactions to the video, how angry they are at the movement, how willing they are to take away the few rights deviants have.

She goes into a rabbit hole, reading and reading everything that she can about it, seeing all the different debates and protests that are already happening across the country.

Her face is in most signs, t-shirts, asking her to be returned home. Calling her an angel, a clever contrast to the Angel of Death. One Jessica Miller clearly invented.

***

“He’s younger than Abigail, Mark!” Rebecca says while watching a 20-year-old boy slurp the lunch they have prepared for him in their dining room.

“Ma’am, who’s Abigail? And yeah, I’m young… but I can show you my portfolio! You’ll forget all about my age, I swear.”

Rebecca shows him the video of his daughter being tortured and the boy chokes on the soda.

“Jeez, ma’am, I’m eating!”

“Rebecca,” Mark puts away her phone.

“Ma’am, like I said when I talked to the man here, I’m good. Not just good, really good!” he smiles from ear to ear.

“Oh, and surely if I doubt it,” she sighs, “you’ll add another really.”

“He was well recommended. Let’s hear it.” Mark hands him the desert and the boy thanks him.

“I watched the video when we talked on the phone, man. It’s too deep for me to find its source, soz.” The boy says with his mouth full.

“This was a waste of time… and food, clearly,” Rebecca gets up and removes the plate of dessert from the boy.

“Ma’am, I’m not done. One thing that me and my associates-”

“Please tell me your associates aren’t a bunch of children, too.” Rebecca keeps the plate away from him.

“Ma’am, how can we be children if we’re old enough to die in a war?” he fixates on her.

“Carry on.” Mark orders.

“Me and my associates did find one thing,” he gestures, asking for the plate back and Rebecca denies it. “It’s fake. Very well done. Yes. But fake! That’s not your daughter.” He asks again for the plate.

“What do you mean by that?” Mark asks and takes the plate off Rebecca’s hands to give back to the boy, grabs him another soda and pours it.

“I don’t want to get overly technical here,” the boy slurps the drink loudly.

“So don’t!” Rebecca slaps the table.

“Soz, ma’am. But basically, it’s like in the movies. They are using their voices and with AI making it seem like they are saying those things. The bodies aren’t really there. None of it is real. Everyone in there… fake!”

“But you can’t trace its origin,” Rebecca says.

“We couldn’t. But I can say this,” he takes another bite at the dessert. “Me and my associates… we are… intrigued.”

“I’m glad that you find it intriguing.” Rebecca looks away.

“Ma’am, we take no pleasure in other people’s pain. We want to do good. ‘Course we want to get paid too. We have mouths to feed and bills to pay. It’s not like you’ll starve if you pay us a proper compensation. We want to help you find your daughter.”

“How exactly will you help us if you can’t find out where it came from?” Rebecca sits in front of him, facing him, properly noticing how young the boy is, with his piercings and pink styled hair.

“Ma’am, your husband has a college degree that he paid himself through a scholarship and hard work,” he gives a big thumbs up to Mark! “You,” he smiles at Rebecca, “you turned your parents’ empire into something much more rentable! I respect you.” The boy takes a sip of his soda and faces them both, “even though I think it’s ridiculous the amount of wealth that you have. Immoral even! Billionaires shouldn’t exist, let alone tril-” he notices their eyes on him.

Rebecca is about to reply when he continues.

“But despite all your intelligence, ma’am, you aren’t seeing things clearly here. That’s what we can offer you. The bigger picture.”

“Which is?” Rebecca laughs.

“That the way the video was made, and the impossibility of its tracking, means one thing: resources. And not just any kind, ma’am. Immoral resources.”

“Speak plainly, boy,” Mark gets nearer to him.

“Soz,” he gets up now and faces Mark, “I mean, man, that when you used your money to spread misinformation about other candidates than the ones you supported,” he looks at Rebecca, “which me and my associates know, but just can’t prove it, we couldn’t trace it back to you.”

“Are you threatening us, boy?” Rebecca gets up and moves closer.

“No, ma’am. Don’t you see it already?” his voice is calm and tender.

“No.” Mark says calmy too.

“The terrorists don’t need to fake a video if they have them. Obviously, we couldn’t trace their first one with the abduction. Probably the same code made by Stephanie Williams. But it was real. Not a fake. This one is fake and well hidden. That costs money. Do you understand what I mean?”

Rebecca and Mark look at each other.

“Whoever did this video has… immoral resources. Who do you think it is?” He takes turns looking at Rebecca and Mark.

“The government,” Mark replies.

“Maybe…” the boy sits down again and takes a bite of the desert.

“No,” Rebecca sits next to him and looks at Mark, “not the government. It would be extremely difficult to hide from the Congress. Not the government.”

“The Institute,” Mark nods, “foreign capital, Clark Industries, Ortiz Hotels, and… us. I think we know where you should first look.”

“Find out where the funds of the Parker’s Foundation are going, boy.”

“’Course, let’s talk number!” the boy smiles and reaches his fist bump to Rebecca.

“Money is no issue here. You and your associates are hired,” Rebecca faces Mark and slowly fist bumps the boy.