“No.”

Saxon threw his arms up in protest. “Come on Quinn, we’ve seen weirder stuff.”

Quinn picked up the proposal Saxon had composed, and began flipping through it. “You are claiming Desmond Riley’s mythos is Bigfoot because, in addition to taking on a hybrid ape form, the culprit also appeared to go undetected easily.”

Quinn flipped to the next page. “Your evidence for this claim was that a singular office worker, who has been working at the front desk for two years, didn’t recognize the culprit when you gave his name.”

Saxon continued nodding along with everything Quinn said, knowing something bad was about to happen.

“That’s all fine and dandy, even had help from Alex,” Quinn said merrily, turning to the last page, “but here is where your genius shines.”

Saxon straightened his back and took a deep breath in preparation for what was to come.

“Am I correct in understanding that you believe Desmond Riley wanted to be captured,” Quinn asked, staring Saxon down.

“Yes,” Saxon answered. “Why did he commit such a strange crime? How, even with a mythos that lets him stay hidden, did we manage to catch him? Why did he come with us willingly after his arrest? All of these questions are answered if he wanted to get caught.”

“And why would he want to get himself caught?” Quinn asked angrily.

“I, uh,” Saxon muttered, stammering through each word, “don’t know yet.”

Quinn erupted from the seat of her chair to her feet. “Every, god, damn, time Saxon! Stop with the conspiracy theories.”

“I’ve been right,” Saxon argued.

“You’ve been wrong!” Quinn objected. “And when you are, people get hurt.”

Saxon’s words stuck to his tongue, unable to leave his mouth.

“How many times do I have to tell you, you’re a detective,” Quinn stated. “You don’t try and guess what the puzzle is gonna look like from a few pieces, 'cause then anything fits. You find pieces until you get the complete picture.”

Saxon nodded, stunned to silence. It was good advice--that’s why he gave it to Lya--but something about it never sat right with him. Finding all the pieces took time, and accuracy meant nothing if you weren’t fast enough--a fact Saxon was all too weary of being reminded of.

Quinn saw the dissatisfaction in Saxon’s eyes. “You did good,” she said, placing a hand on Saxon’s shoulder. “You caught the bad guy. He's in custody, and he’ll face justice. Stop worrying about the what if’s. We’ve got enough problems as it is, let’s not go dredging up more.”

“What if I’m right,” Saxon stated as if he knew he was, “then what?”

“Then we’ll figure it out,” Quinn responded, “together.”

As much as Quinn loved using that saying, Saxon hated hearing it. It didn’t address his concerns, merely dismissed them. But he couldn’t do anything about it.

Quinn sat back down, placing the report in one of her desk drawers. It was already after hours, and Saxon was beginning to feel fatigued. He began walking out the door, but Quinn caught him before he could leave.

“Sit down,” Quinn commanded, as Saxon grabbed the handle to her office door.

“Something you need me to do chief?” Saxon asked, turning around, and taking a seat.

“Why’d you lie to me, Saxon?” Quinn asked.

“About what?” Saxon replied, genuinely confused.

“Your housing situation,” Quinn answered. “I did some digging, and your apartment complex is still rebuilding.”

“They’ll be done soon,” Saxon asserted.

“They’re still months away from a full repair,” Quinn said, correcting Saxon. “Where have you been staying?”

“Torch,” Saxon responded, matter-of-factly, “it’s a homeless shelter.”

“Saxon, you aren’t homeless,” Quinn objected, her voice thick with worry.

“Well, my apartment was destroyed,” Saxon said, shrugging his shoulders, “so I kinda am.”

“Anybody here, me, Herman, even your new partner Lya, would give you a bed,” Quinn argued. “Just ask for help.”

Saxon stood up. “I’ve got a good thing going. I help out, and they give me a room of my own. There’s no need for me to impose on anyone.”

Quinn shook her head in defeat, believing there was nothing she could do to change Saxon’s mind. “Don’t be afraid of needing help.”

“Won’t ever need it,” Saxon remarked, standing from his chair.

After Saxon exited the precinct, he decided to do a few laps around the block. During that time he removed his badge from his trench coat and kept an eye out for anybody looking to jump an officer. In the morning the area around the precinct was pretty friendly, but at night things changed.

Given that a mythos can manifest in just about anybody, coupled with the fact that the precinct was responsible for dealing with all the avatar related cases in Fable, meant that there were a lot of people looking to get back at the FMPD anyway possible.

Normally this wouldn’t be an issue, since you could simply drive out, and nobody would risk making a scene so close to the precinct; anybody nearby looking to cause trouble, wanted to do it silently. However, Saxon’s car had been destroyed in the accident that took down his apartment complex, and all the nearby Subway entrances were abandoned to accompany Charon’s needs.

All Saxon could do was take the hour walk to Torch.

He considered using Loki, but he also wanted to be prepared, in case something did go down. The combination of Medusa and Hermes--mainly Hermes--earlier today, was more taxing than Saxon had anticipated. Instead, he decided to resort to his street smarts to try and blend in.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

Around halfway through his walk, Saxon noticed somebody strange. It wasn’t uncommon to see people sitting on the side of the street, but one in a full-blown suit was certainly a new sight. Saxon suspected the man had been robbed. However, as he got closer to take a look noticed no real signs of injury.

The man tried to get to his feet as he saw Saxon approach, but instantly his legs buckled under his weight.

“Woah there,” Saxon said, rushing to catch the man before he fell, “take it easy.”

Saxon reached back into his coat pocket to retrieve his badge. “My name is Saxon Jones, I’m a detective at the FMPD. Do you need immediate medical care of any kind?”

“I’m all right,” the man responded wearily.

Saxon could hear the man’s exasperated breathing and noticed he was drenched in sweat, to the point that his hands nearly slipped off his suit. “Who was chasing you?”

“Nobody,” the man said, as Saxon set him back down on the ground, “it was the Epilogue.”

It sounded familiar to Saxon, but he couldn’t remember it from any cases. “Can you point me to it?”

The man nodded his head further up, and across the street. “Around that corner, you’ll find the place. It’s pretty hard to miss.”

“Ok,” Saxon said, rising to his feet, “stay here, and I’ll have an officer come pick you up, but in the mean, can you tell me a little about you and this Epilogue place.”

“Alright,” the man agreed.

Saxon pulled out a notepad and pen from his outbreast pocket.

“What’s your name?”

“Hollin Holt”

“Do you have a mythos?”

“Been exposed to quite a bit, and still nothing.”

“What do you do?”

“I’m a manager at Midas. I work downtown.”

An idea entered Saxon’s mind.

“What does your team do?”

“Accounting.”

As much as Saxon wanted to, asking about Desmond would be too off topic; but it was still something he wanted to explore at a later date.

“What’s this Epilogue place, and why were you at it?”

“The Epilogue is a nightclub. Heard about it from a fellow manager. The DJ is an avatar, and his mythos empowers his music somehow. I took the team out to celebrate a milestone.”

“When was that?”

Saxon was surprised to see that Hollin’s face could get paler than it already was.

“Yesterday, around 9 pm.”

“And when did you leave?”

“About an hour ago.”

“They let you sleep there?”

“Couldn’t.”

Saxon had attributed the bloodshot eyes, and baggy eyelids to Hollin being an overworked office worker, but it seems his initial guess was off.

“What do you mean, couldn’t?”

“The music was like a drug. The level of euphoria just made me forget about everything else. My body just moved on its own, like dancing was as natural as breathing.”

“How’d you get out?”

“I got lucky. Ended up hitting something expensive, and broke it. Security dragged me outside. Once I got out the fatigue from dancing a day straight hit me all at once. This was as far as I got before the adrenaline ran out and I crashed. Now I can’t even move my arms or legs, they're so exhausted.”

“You said your manager friend recommended this place. Did they go to it?”

“Said she did, but she coulda have been lying.”

“How long ago did she say she went?”

“About a week ago.”

“Can I get a name?”

“Min. Min Holt.”

“Sister?”

“Wife.”

“Then where’s the ring?”

Hollin glanced down at his hands. “Oh no.”

“Good luck with that,” Saxon joked, putting the notepad and pen away.

“Ring is gold with a red engraving,” Hollin informed Saxon, “in case you find it while you’re in there.”

“I’ll keep my eyes peeled,” Saxon reassured Hollin. “I’m gonna give a call to our chief, see if they can have somebody come pick you up.”

“Thanks,” Hollin said, as Saxon turned his back to him.

“It’s literally my job,” Saxon responded.

Once Hollin was out of earshot, Saxon pulled out his phone to call Quinn. Luckily, she wasn’t too busy with work to answer the call.

He informed her of everything Hollin had told him, minus the information about his team working in accounting.

“Surprised he’s even conscious, after dancing for 24 hours straight,” Quinn said. “I’ll have someone drive him down to a hospital, and keep an eye on him till he’s recovered.”

“Thanks, chief,” Saxon said. “Have you heard anything about this Epilogue place?”

“A little,” Quinn responded, “it's a nightclub that opened up here about a couple of months back.”

“No incidents though?” Saxon asked.

“None on record. Are you sure you’re feeling good enough to handle this alone?” Quinn asked, knowing Saxon’s response would be the same, regardless of the truth of the matter.

“Of course,” Saxon answered, manifesting confidence from thin air.

Quinn shook her head. “I’ll send some backup.” She knew Saxon wouldn’t wait for them, but she figured they’d at least arrive in time to drag him out of any holes he would have dug himself into.

“Suit yourself,” Saxon said with a shrug, “but people are dancing themselves to death.”

“And you’re heading straight to the source of their madness,” Quinn reminded him, “like a moth to a flame.”

“I’ll try to not get burnt,” Saxon quipped. “Make sure you send officers that recognize me and make sure they don’t wear their badges. My guess is that they don’t take too kindly to officers.”

“Nobody does,” Quinn lamented.

Saxon turned the corner and immediately understood what Hollin meant. The only reason Saxon had never heard of this place was because it was down an unfamiliar route. If his walk to Torch took him down this street, then the Epilogue would be the only building he remembered.

It was almost like a slice of downtown had fallen into this part of Fable. Saxon’s eyes instinctively narrowed, as they were blasted with a sea of neon lights he wasn’t expecting. For a nightclub, this place wasn’t too big, especially compared to the ones downtown, but it certainly stood out in the area.

Saxon got in the queue, but even on a workday, the line was nearly 50 people long, and it was moving slowly. Although Saxon didn’t want to expend himself anymore, he couldn’t waste time standing in line.

He placed a hand on the shoulder of the man in front of him and called upon the mythos of Loki. By the time the man turned around to see who was touching his shoulder, Saxon had disappeared from view, leaving the man confused.

Saxon hated using Loki like this, but he needed to get through the line. Loki allowed Saxon to transform into other people, but also, more importantly, objects.

As an object, Saxon no longer felt the need to breathe, eat, or sleep--not that he could even if he wanted to. His 5 senses were reduced to just 2; Saxon could only see and hear.

Using Loki, Saxon was able to transform himself into several accessories and work his way up the line. First, he transformed into a handkerchief and slipped into a man’s pocket. Then jumped ahead, becoming a keychain on a woman’s purse.

Saxon continued this process until he managed to finally slip into the establishment as cufflinks--luckily the bouncer didn’t find it strange that the man didn’t have a matching pair on his right-hand side.

Saxon managed to enter undetected, by apparating in an empty booth, that the man he was affixed to passed by. Before Saxon could take in his surroundings he felt something weird on his foot.

Glancing underneath the table, Saxon immediately became warier of the situation at hand. For a reason unbeknownst to Saxon, he’d been tapping his feet to the rhythm of the music, since the moment he entered the Epilogue.