She could bite the dust right there and then. But she wouldn’t.

“My eyes are heavy,” Tanairy grumbled, repeatedly blinking at the table before her. She lurched out of her slump, hovering over a steaming cup of green tea. She clasped the cup delicately, pulling it away from the saucer and holding the mouth of the cup below her nose. A bouquet swayed into her nose, kneading her senses and soothing the alerts in her head. She subconsciously rubbed her nose with the tip of her thumb, trying to augment the serenity that purified her. Her brain, despite its weariness, smiled. It smiled more than it should have. Her once-raging heart from minutes prior mellowed.

And she hadn’t even taken her first sip yet.

“Are you feeling better?” She glanced towards Theta and Danae, who sat across her on the dining table. They wore warm looks on their faces and eagerness in their posture. Theta prodded again, “Hope the meds and tea are to your liking.”

“You’re acting like meds are built to be tasty,” Danae said, fiddling with the petals in her eye.

“Anything can be tasty if you’re desperate for it, don’t you think?”

“The hell are you on about?”

“Well—”

“If I had, say, runny diarrhoea—”

“Yeah—”

“Very painful diarrhoea—”

“Yes—”

“Loperamide tablets wouldn’t suddenly become a Michelin star meal. They’re still bitter as hell.”

“But they do the job at solving the issue—

“Huh?”

“The aftermath is tasty. If it works in reducing discomfort, then it’s relaxing.”

“I find it hard to equate form and function like that—”

“Satisfaction is the best taste. I eat a salad knowing that feeling healthy is tasty, not because the thing is tasty itself.”

“But… But no one’s having drugs for breakfast, lunch, and dinner? Well, unless you’re an addict.”

Theta rested his elbows on the table. He questioned, “You think drug addicts perceive… uh, taste differently than non-addicts?”

Danae followed suit in posture. She answered, “I’d think so? Like all things, especially nowadays, your environment will shape your natural composition—”

Tanairy did not follow suit; she couldn’t keep up with their random back-and-forth. Her mind lolled around, the buzzwords and fuzzwords going through one ear and out the other, like the buzzing and fuzzing of static. Her mouth was agape, still attempting to answer the first question Theta had asked her, only letting out puffs of dead words before the conversation would quickly move forward. So she sipped her tea, reluctant to butt into the elders’ tangent. The hot liquid washed away more of her nerves, shifting her smoothly into a slouch with the cup hovering over her lip. She took in more of the aroma.

What’s even happening?

Still sluggish, she took in her surroundings. She had eaten in this dining room the previous day and recalled how reactive she was to Danae’s sudden vine manoeuvre. The same happened an hour or so ago when the vines ambushed her.

The sudden shock of recent events drew her azure eyes to the bandaged wrist. Despite that being the first time the mutation acted up, the phantom of the bulb remained. It didn’t hurt; she was numb out of her mind. But it was there. It was a part of her, apparently ready to rip out of her skin and gape open.

So that’s how it feels. Terrible.

The back-and-forth paused. Theta grabbed the leafy bulb from the floor, slapping the dark mass on the table. A few of the decaying petals had already withered from the bulb.

The shock of the event returned to her; she almost choked on her tea.

“Dunno if it’s traumatic or not, but this is the bulb you conjured.” Theta wheeled it back and forth with his finger. Tanairy kept the tea close to her nose, attempting to block out the putrid odour from the bulb. The two other adults were unperturbed. “Obviously, it operates on your blood, so when cut from its source, it dies completely.”

“It stinks.” Danae pointed at her wrist. “You also had some reddish spots on your wrist, similar to the salamander in your DNA.”

Tanairy kept her eyes glued to the bulb, its ghostly presence lingering stronger on her arm. The sirens in her head surfaced once more.

She downed her tea quickly, maintaining her internal calmness. Putting the cup down on the saucer and feeling herself loosen up, she simply answered, “Oh.”

Danae held up a teapot, shaking it lightly in front of Tanairy. The latter picked up on the gesture, almost flinching when the other woman tilted the teapot.

“Thank you, Danae.” She watched her cup refill, the aroma making her innate questioning calmer.

She’s using her hands now. Did she use too much blood or something?

Tanairy sipped her cup, swimming in her slow thoughts. Her eyes fluttered, blinking away the weariness.

Why did she use vines the first time? It was frightening seeing them come out of nowhere.

“Now we know that your mutation responds to intense stimuli well,” Theta said, giving Tanairy a thoughtful smile. “Now it’s just manipulating it, which should be easy once it has happened once—implicit memory and all that.”

Theta gave her a toothy smile, adding, “So, congrats; you’ve awakened your inner animal. Welcome to Harmonization Culture!”

She held the cup to her lips, unable to digest everything in her cup and the conversation.

Welcome? Why does it feel like a cult initiation? How can they be smiling at this?

She had too many questions. So she quickly sought solace in her tea.

“Yeah,” Tanairy murmured before gulping down her second round of sedation. What else could be said? She knew how disturbing the whole culture around harmonization was. But now that she was tapping into its waters without looking at it from a distance, the palpable murkiness was finally at the tip of her fingers.

Hot, uncharted waters. But by hell or high water, she had to keep her head high and roll in the deep.

I have to go along with it, I guess. There’s no better alternative.

“Y’know, people would use a lowercase ‘c’ for ‘culture’.” Theta rocked back in his chair, tapping his finger against the dead flower bulb. “However, I keep telling people that a capital ‘c’ is what we should start using because in my honest opinion—like all the effects of radiation—Harmonization Culture is a disease.”

Tanairy blinked rapidly, diminishing a new wave of confusion mixed with her drowsiness. She carefully placed her cup on the saucer, eyeing the casual looks the other adults wore with scrunched eyebrows.

“Huh? How does…” She coughed, trying to navigate around the statement. “But most diseases are common nouns, except for a few like Alzheimer’s—”

“Hmm—”

“So what makes this one proper?”

She watched him shuffle in his seat as if he were getting comfortable for an explanation.

Why am I even questioning him?

“It’s because, compared to many diseases, this one is still very new,” Theta said, playing catch with the bulb. “The coronal mass ejection—CME—that happened five years ago is what caused us to be able to fuse and harmonize with organisms. On top of that, the higher dosage of cosmic alcohol caused mutations in nearly everyone.”

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

He dropped the bulb, sending the plant corpse ricocheting from the table to the ground.

“However, these cosmic rays are more than just the common geomagnetic storms and solar flares.” His voice strained as he tried to pick up his dropped item. “They’re supernatural, pretty much unreal. Unreal enough to make the sky an eternal aurora. Unreal enough to make people like my wife-eh have a plant come out of her eye.”

“I look cool as hell—”

“That’s facts! Hup”—he tossed the bulb into the air and caught it—”and also, the biggest unreal thing that this radiation brought is that people can now have powers. It’s as if we’re in some weird supernatural movie.”

He smirked at a frozen Tanairy, pointing her produce at her.

“That doesn’t sound too common now, does it?” Theta pointed at his button nose and then at his caracal cat ears. “When humans have access to some form of esotericism, we have obviously fallen into unnatural territory.”

Tanairy pursed her lips, letting the explanation slowly soak into her head.

“Ah. True… I see.”

It didn’t soak in as easily as tea, so she instinctively reached for the teapot. But Danae shooed her away; she served her instead. Then, Tanairy began her third cup, delving into her thoughts as she did so.

Yep, he definitely has a unique outlook on life. It was obvious from his doctrine explanation yesterday.

She pinched the bridge of her nose, placing her near-finished cup down. She attempted to squint just enough to block out the image of the bulb.

I forgot that I even came here for supposed training. Is one event all there is to it? Will my body know when to act all the time?

She huffed and took another quick sip, trying to soothe the torrents of her confusion.

Scary…

“You feeling ok, Ryd?” Theta leaned in his seat; how hadn’t he slipped off yet? “I have a few more questions to ask, and it may help you find a direction.”

Tanairy blinked. Her eyes were probably out of sync, so she wasn’t sure what she did. She scratched the tip of her hairline and muttered, “Direction?”

“Yes.” Theta rolled the bulb around the table, the sight of the dead plant coming back like a vengeance. “You assimilated an animal into yourself; you burned a bridge, as you already know.”

He tapped the bulb.

“And on the topic of disease, Harmonization Culture isn’t just the effect of harmonization—it’s the cause and intention as well.”

He flicked the bulb.

“So, I’m curious.” He tapped the bulb again. “What drove you to do this? Why did you come to me, especially since you knew my provisions had more special capabilities? How did the disease come to you? For the common reason of self-defense like most people, I assume? Curiosity? Furtherment in a hobby? Or…”

“Self-defense. Yeah,” Tanairy answered, quicker than she wanted. She repeated, slower, “Self-defense.”

He flicked the bulb again.

“I see.” Theta continued his rhythm, nodding intently. “Fair enough, fair enough.”

Silence. The man’s rhythm didn’t stop, and she could see him visibly generating questions in his head while humming a tune.

“Well, that makes sense.” He cleared his throat, adding a knock to his bulb rhythm. “A lot of people also go for the route of being suited up enough to fight for that new elusive cure that spawns randomly in different organisms. I assume that’s what, uh, Miss Manco, was it?

“Yes, dear,” Danae affirmed, coming out of her silence. “Cosima… Manco? Yeah—”

“Think it’s the past curse of being a teacher that always makes me terrible with names or something,” Theta suggested, chuckling with each word.

“It hasn’t gotten better.”

Tanairy finished her tea, pausing her drinking action to give herself time to think.

Well, at least I know he has an academic background. Or they’re fabricating it… People hide a lot of stuff nowadays.

She put the cup down.

I’ll be hopeful, though. The two do seem to know a lot, science-wise.

“Anyways, I don’t see why you’d need the cure. You barely look mutated, or if you have been mutated, the physical changes are practically unnoticeable.” Theta stopped his rhythm. “It’s as if you weren’t even affected.”

“Well, actually, my nose got a little pointier… and my eyebrows got a little hairier.” Tanairy slumped in her seat and looked into space, speaking aloud, “I still got to check through my ancestry or something.”

“Hmm…”

“My eyes are also bluer,” Tanairy said, rubbing her eyes before widening them to keep herself alert. She found herself smiling as she released her fingers from her eyelids. “Jellyfish eyeballs.”

Theta chuckled his usual gruff chuckle, starting up his rhythm once again. He said, “It kind of reminded me of tonic water the first time I saw them yesterday when I was explaining my views upstairs.”

Tanairy shuddered, the previous day’s events shaking her to her core. To her, the perspective he spoke of yesterday was rotten; it rocked her to her core that another human could think of letting things that have thoughts of self-harm have what they want.

He applied it to only animals, though. It’s still disgusting.

“Speaking of which, you were the only one to react in such a quick way to my views.” Theta drummed the bulb slower. But his keen gaze bore into her soul; it was as sharp as the bulb that used to be jutting out of her skin. “I can see you react to things pretty quickly. First, it was the reflex at this very dining table yesterday. Then it was upstairs. You responded fast to a surprise attack today as well.”

He began rotating the bulb as he spoke, adding, “It’s almost the same both before and after the assimilation of the salamander. So, this reflex of yours makes you seem constantly on your feet. And you… went down this path because of self-defense reasons.”

“Yeah… yeah.” Tanairy clutched her trousers.

The sirens began bypassing the effects of the tea. She could almost feel herself coming back to life instead of being tired.

What is this? What’s going on?

Her wrist ached.

“You seemed very passionate about helping people, and you were very… sympathetic towards the dying animals.” He gave her a glistening smile, not doing enough to loosen her up. “I can tell you’re a very kind person. You must come from a place of care.”

She remained tensed, trying to maintain eye contact with him. But her hazy eyes kept trailing back to her empty cup. She needed more tea; her heart needed more tea.

Danae delivered and poured her some more without having to ask.

“I do have a question, Ryd.” He tilted his head and scratched at his beard. “Do you have a job? Do you work closely with people?”

She paused midway through her fourth cup to process the question. Placing it down, she nodded and replied, with little to no elaboration, “I have… some experience.”

“Social work?”

“Hmm.”

“I see.” Theta released the bulb in his hands to fiddle with his earlobe in thought. “Well, honestly, that makes sense. That’s why you probably disagreed with what I said yesterday. Fair enough; it is part of teaching and discovery—learning different views and all that. It’s nature.”

Tanairy tensed more, watching Theta’s hand stretch across the table.

“Apologies if I said anything to your disliking,” Theta said.

This man confuses me… I have to shake his hand.

Tanairy rigidly shook the hairy hand, glimpsing at Theta’s goofy grin and Danae’s monotonous stare.

It feels like I’m being studied.

Their hands released each other.

“However, we must agree to disagree.” Theta resumed his rhythm. “It’s October 2039; we are nearing the beginning of a new decade. This world has transformed drastically, so in my opinion, we cannot risk any sort of leniency when it comes to hyper-serious matters such as the fate of many human lives.”

An iPhone on the table buzzed, lighting up to reveal many WhatsApp messages from different users flashing by at light speeds. The sound drew Tanairy’s wide eyes to the screen in a heartbeat, watching the notifications go by across a white wallpaper with what she could make out as a picture of a serpent eating its tail.

“Must be the group chat,” Theta said, lacing his fingers on the table. “By the way, you saw the whole Gallon list, right? Because I assume you may have understandable problems with that.”

Put off by the new subject, Tanairy looked down at the table.

“Yeah, it was a bit weird to me,” she muttered near the end of her sentence. She drank more tea, but for some reason, her brain wanted her to keep hearing the sirens.

“We pick out eight criminals out of the… effin’ zillion that suddenly appeared in the US. Well, we mostly went for ones that have performed crimes in Los Angeles or, largely, Cali.” Theta explained, grabbing his phone as he quickly unlocked it and scrolled through apps. The WhatsApp notifications kept streaming in. “As a result of the big bad CME we had five years ago, we’ve had a surge of criminals of many types: serial killers, assaulters, psychopaths, revolutionists, kidnappers, etcetera, etcetera.”

Tanairy flinched, drinking her tea slowly.

“But we picked out a mix of popular and unpopular cases. Deadly and undeadly cases. Common and rare cases.” Theta slid his phone around to show Tanairy the list of the eight criminals:

*Saint Sabin

*Tawny Tonner (Dingus)

*Oswald Oz (possible exception)

*Pina Pica

*Spanner Springer

*Itsy

*Whatsit (‘Skid Row Berserker’)

*Newton Neuville

“But what they all have in common is that they have very transformed appearances.”

Tanairy finished all her tea, placing the empty cup back down.

“You know what that means, right?” Theta quizzed her, huffing his chest out and folding his arms. “It means that they are carrying around strong animal and esoteric traits that should not be further harmonized with. Because, say, these criminals get ensnared and assimilated by another person with strong traits, this means that we get someone like the recent Skid Row Berserker.”

He pointed at the name on the list with a sharp finger.

“He caused a huge massacre in Skid Row due to his now powerful genes and is a threat. On top of that, since he possesses the cure from eyewitness reports, he has become eye candy for the people wanting this cure.” Tanairy shivered under Theta’s dark gaze. “If more hunters go after this monster, we expect more deaths, along with him getting stronger the more he intakes.”

He pointed at every name on the list.

“That’s why all of them need to die and have their corpses destroyed, so no one gets their hands on such powers.”

Tanairy’s heart drummed with Theta’s bulb drumming. She could feel her heart in her throat as she asked in a horrified voice, “Even Oswald? Isn’t… he the child school shooter?”

“He’s our one exception, but I’m afraid that since he’s a child, he may be easily deceived and ensnared. He’s practically missing. Who knows about his whereabouts?”

Her eyes became glossier, and she felt like the teacup would shatter in her hand.

That’s messed the hell up. So, so messed the eff’ up.

“It’s basic food chain stuff. It’s nature,” Theta said firmly, his steady eyes reading the woman crippling in the seat opposite her. “It is what it is. We look at jailed criminals like Saint and PP as well, since they can cause problems within confinement. But that’s a can of worms for another day.”

Theta’s phone stopped buzzing as an incoming call appeared on his screen. Tanairy took a hazy peek through the gaps between her fingers, spotting the caller’s name as “Eggs Benedict”.

“We’re mostly relying on the SDD’s competency in actually destroying these criminals and not letting them be harmonized with again or escape—wait, lemme take this.”

Theta heaved himself from his seat, tapping the green button and putting the phone to his ear. He started the conversation, “‘Sup, Benny—no, I haven’t read the chats yet.”

Tanairy woke from her hunched form, looking up at Danae, who smiled at her warmly. Her heartbeat quickened. She broke out in sweats again. Her wrapped wrist ached more.

Why is this so stressful? Nothing much has happened yet. Why is this so stressful?

She needed more tea.

“He used to be a professor, so he really likes dumping his whole brain out onto the table,” Danae reassured, pouring her more tea. The older woman shook the empty teapot. “He says we’re in a superhero movie, and he’s certainly info-dumping like he is in one.”

“Thank you, Danae.”

Tanairy attempted a smile but wasted no time and began her fifth cup, trying to drown out her unease. She put the cup down, breathing in and out. In and out. In and out.

That’s what she felt today would be: in and out. But it felt like she had been in there for an eternity. Worse, she was there practically alone.

Didn’t the other two say they’d come? Where are they? They were probably smarter than me and avoided it—

“Eff’ me! That idiot escaped again?” Theta’s gruff voice boomed across the room, bringing the other two to face the pacing man. “That effin’ dingus escaped again? These police are useless!”

The man kept blowing up over the phone.

“Ah, damn.” Danae pinched her forehead, adjusting herself in her seat to face Tanairy. “The dingus is back.”

Tanairy tried to sit up, unable to comprehend what was happening. “Who’s back?”

“Tawny Tonner probably made another move and a successful escape attempt on top of that.” Danae paused as Theta let out some steam before stopping again. “As you can tell, the oaf hates her guts.”

“Oh…”

Her gut wrenched. She didn’t quite know why. But the sirens overpowered the weariness, reminding her of the hot, uncharted waters she waded into.

But right now, all she could digest was the hot tea in her cup. It tired her out and helped her fight her internal battles.

Her brain would never let the dust settle.

So she drank more.