I looked around the whole of the mansion, but I couldn’t find them.

I couldn’t find her. Suddenly, the urge to use my power, to really use it, was at the forefront again. Only this time I didn’t feel like stopping myself from doing it. If anyone deserved my going berserk on them, it was Sofie.

Was what she’d already done enough? Did she have to take one of the few people I actually loved from me as well?

“Alexander?” asked a familiar voice from behind me. Kent Smith, a clearly thirty something reporter, was standing in the party, wearing his blue suit.

“Mr Smith?” Was he looking for me? That didn’t make any sense, but what else could he be doing here? Well, there were a lot of things, but I didn’t feel like getting into it now. “I-I’m sorry but I have-”

“Birgit was the one that called me,” said Smith. He was looking worried now. “We have mutual friends, that’s how she-actually it doesn’t matter.” He was fumbling. Why was he fumbling?

I clenched my hands, taking the deepest breath I’d ever taken in my life.

“What happened?”

“She said to find you.” He was the one to take a deep breath this time. “And then another lady took the phone. She said, and I quote, ‘forget whatever stupid plans you have and go meet the dean.’ There was some Spanish thrown in there, and something about a sister.”

Sofia. Meaning nobody had gone back to her and Ivan. Not yet at least.

What could I do?

I could go to the dean, but I would be admitting defeat at that point. He would at least go against Paragon. He would also probably do something about my ‘alter ego’. He was the reason I even had an alter ego. I was, after all, created by him if Sofie was to be believed.

Jacob Macquoid. As soon as I thought about the name, a sharp pain shot through my head. And then, standing behind Kent Smith, sticking out like a sore thumb from the crowd, I could see him. He was still around my height, with dark skin, and a long beard and hair. This time, both were grey, and he looked like he was about sixty, dressed in a completely black suit with white sleeves.

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Was he-was he Jacob Macquoid? I-There was no one else, was there? Paragon and Jacob. Paragon and me. That-that was it was all about. I could feel his voice. Not hear it. Feel it. In my lungs. In my throat.

There’s a god to kill. Work to be done.

“Calm yourself.” Kent’s voice broke me out of my thoughts. It was comforting but also surprisingly powerful. More than I expected it to be. It was almost like it made me calm by listening to him. “Explain as much as you can to me. Then we can work together.”

The man was no longer there. And Jacob was silent again.

“Alexander.” His voice was now deeper, sterner. “You’re a bright young man. I have seen it. Which is why I need you to let me in now. Something happened to Birgit. And we can’t leave her alone.”

I nodded. He was right. Of course he was right. Besided, we could kill two birds with one stone. Birgit and I wanted to tell Kent Smith everything–and then he could tell Alpha Surge.

And then he would make everything alright.

“What does the name Paragon mean to you?” I asked him. I didn’t really know where to start, but Paragon seemed as good a place as any. He didn’t expect this. It was only the smallest twitch in his expression, but I could tell. He was too shocked to properly hide it.

“I am…aware of the man. Rather his name. I’m kind of looking into it.”

I messed with the seams of my gloves for a moment. And then I explained everything. And I meant everything. From Jacob to Charles to the scraps of information I could remember Sofie mention–Jensen’s name, some ‘Houses’ that were after them–to everything about Paragon this summer–that one in particular seemed to anger him–to Paragon’s attack, where I couldn’t help but lightly touch my throat.

By the time I got to the nightmares, I almost felt like puking, and I hadn’t puked since I was seven and I accidentally ate some expired food. It wasn’t a reaction I usually had to things but this summer, this-these two months at Atlantis…it was all too much.

But I couldn’t think about that now. Now I had to save Birgit and, if Kent’s expression was any indication, he had a plan forming.

“Do you have any proof?” he asked me. “Any documents?”

“A friend of mine has Sofie’s sister,” I told him. “She’s unconscious. We also have Paragon and Jacob–or at least I think it’s Jacob–in rough sketches. Alongside a bunch of my nightmares in journals. It’s up in Birgit’s room.”

“That’s useful,” he said, satisfied. “Lead me there, and get Sofia. Charles Morris always tries to be three moves ahead. To be in control. But he made a mistake this time. Come Alex. Let’s even the playing field.”