The room was a lot more cramped than the one before it. It was smaller too. Boxes and statues, paintings of all shapes and sizes were stacked in seemingly random places. After looking around for a bit we just picked a direction and went.

Around the corner of a stack of empty canvases, we came across a familiar man lying on the floor, having a smoke. I nudged Jess and pointed at him. "That's Manet."

She said nothing and approached him silently. "You must be Witchling. Nice to meet you. You look very unassuming out of costume." He said, still staring at the ceiling.

"Yeah, hey there. We're here for the dough."

Manet snickered. "The boss handles the payment. Stick around here. He'll send something for you." Near him a number of unfamiliar, yet equally eccentric-looking people were crowded around an unfinished painting, debating something.

"These your guys?" she asked and he nodded. "What are ya working on?" I had promised her to cut all ties with this cell of the Petite Group if they were the murdery death kind. After getting the cash of course. Now it had become to see if that'd be necessary.

"Well, I'm taking a break so I'm doing nothing, but I assume you were inquiring about my current project?" He sat up and waved in the direction of the painting."This is my newest work. I call it "A Matter of Perspective". I want to capture the feeling of how art, good art, can fundamentally change you as a person, wether you want to or not."

"Oh yeah?" I threw in. "What does it do?

He laid back down on the ground. "Right now, nothing. We are still working on getting the effect right. But when it's finished..." He took a deep drag of his cigarette and blew rings of smoke into the air. "Anyone who looks at it for long enough will have their opinions and feelings reversed. Dog lovers will be into cats, childfree couples will become active natalists, the politically disinterested will be drawn to radical activism. Art is a powerful tool. It can turn your life upside down within a moment, for better or for worse."

I leaned into Jess and whispered in her ear. "See? No death, just weirdness."

She still looked skeptical. "I guess."

Before we could get further into it another one of the man-things arrived and waved us over.

"Looks like the escort is here ladies. Have fun." Manet said as we followed our guide.

After a few twists and turns the thing abruptly came to a stop and pointed forward. The area it was gesturing toward was without a doubt the least messy we had come across so far. Whereas the rest of the hideout had the air of a well-lived in atelier, this place, while still belonging to an artist, seemed virtually untouched by human hands. Everything was neatly arranged, brushes by length, pencils by color, and not a splash of spilled paint in sight.

Near the center, staring intently at an empty canvas, sat the most unremarkable man I had ever seen. At least Duchamp had the dad look going on, but this guy? Short, plain, and brown hair, clean-shaven,, white long-sleeved shirt and blue jeans, combined with the most generic facial features I could have ever imagined. It was almost impressive. The only thing about him that stood out was a carefully woven crown of light-blue flowers on his head.

"Hey, boss-man." Jess said. "We're here."

He turned his head and smiled when he saw us. "Ahh, wonderful. Come on over. Make yourself at home."

We did as he asked.

"I welcome you in our little home away from home." he began once we were close enough. "The Master Controller and Witchling, I presume? You can address me as Souto. People here call me the boss, but I see myself more as a project lead. How do you like it here so far?"

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. "It's fine. Suits you people just right."

"Hard agree. Not really my scene, but it seems to work for ya." Jess added.

"Right. But we aren't here for pleasantries. Let's talk business." I hurriedly interjected before we got trapped in the dreaded small-talk loop.

Souto chuckled and shook his head slightly. "So eager to talk shop. You need to learn to take a step back and enjoy the simple things in life." He shrugged. "But if you insist. First, though, you brought snacks right?"

I was a bit taken aback by that but nodded. We had stopped by a kiosk on the way to Velveteria to pick up the required junk food. I pulled out the pack of chips and was about to give it to him when he raised his hand.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

"No. You first." He nodded to Jess. "Come here. Take my hand."

I had no idea what he wanted. Jess looked at me for a second and stepped forward, grabbing his outstretched hand. I was a bit worried about this whole situation, and that worry only increased when both her eyes and his smile suddenly grew wider. I tensed up, ready to spring into action should something happen when he spoke again.

"Go on, Witchling. Ask her."

Jess let go of Souto's hand and turned toward me nervously. "Hey, MC? Do ya remember the soda we bought? At the kiosk?"

I had no idea what she was talking about. "Soda? We didn't buy soda. Just chips." I raised the pack in front of her.

"But didn't ya say Manet told ya to brink snacks and a drink?" she insisted.

I looked at her quizzically. "No? He just wanted me to bring snacks."

"Wow." she whispered.

"What the hell is happening?" I didn't mean to say it out loud, but with all the weird things going on lately it just slipped past the cracks.

"Don't worry. You're not crazy. Neither is she." Souto said. "This was just a little demonstration of my Power. I call her "Lethe"." He gestured for me to come over and I hesitantly stepped forward.

He gently took one of my hands with his and with the other he grabbed the pack of chips. My eyes widened as it disintegrated in front of me. "I can make things disappear. And with it all the memories associated with it. The only people exempt from the memory loss are myself and...whoever I am touching at the moment of erasure." With that, he let me go and pointed toward Jess. "Ask her if you don't believe me."

I moved next to her, anxious. I didn't like the idea of having my memories played with without my permission, but as someone with a mental Power of my own it would be very hypocritical of me to complain. The best thing for now was to confirm what he said and then deal with the rest as it happened.

"Witchling, what did I tell you we should bring?"

"Ya too, huh?" she said. "Ya told me Manet wanted us to bring a sugary drink for refreshment, but I guess it was actually more?"

I nodded and turned to face Souto again. Was this how people felt after I possessed them? I had to nip that train of thought in the bud real quick if I wanted to continue my criminal career, so I took a deep breath and concentrated on the situation at hand.

"Neat little trick. But why would you just tell us about your Power?"

He leaned back, a satisfied look on his plain face. "I have two reasons." He raised one finger.

"First, my Power is instrumental in the completion of my next piece. The one you have been helping with. The one I hope you will continue to help with. I want you to truly understand what it is I hope to accomplish with my artwork, and for that, you need to understand my Power."

He added a second finger and opened the satchel at his side. Out of it, he pulled a few bundles of cash.

"And second, me telling you will not put me at a disadvantage either way. This is the money we owe you. I know you have been informed that we want you for another job, but I highly doubt you are interested. This is what you are here for, right?" I didn't answer, which seemingly was good enough for him. "So if I make this disappear, your reason for being here will disappear too. Your memory of the first job you pulled for us as well, unless you would've done it for free. I can't say for sure, but I would bet that if I did it, then from your perspective Manet would have immediately invited you to our hideout to hear a job offer, and that's why you came here. So if you accept, I need you to understand my Power. If you decline, you won't remember it anyway."

Witchling and I exchanged looks. "So ya wanna force us to agree or stiff us on the payment?" she asked, annoyed.

Souto shook his head. "No, no. 2500 bucks is not a lot for me at the moment. I have quite the little nest egg built up. If you walk away, then you will find that in a few days' time, an anonymous source will have decided to donate 2.5k to you as a thank-you for getting rid of two heroes, at least for the moment. So you see, you will get the money we owe whether you take the job or not."

I sighed. I had no intention of actually taking whatever job came next, and I doubt Witchling had either. Maybe forgetting all this was for the best. But I had to be courteous and at least hear him out.

"So, what do you hope to accomplish? What's that work of art you want our help with?"

His smile lost the mischievous edge it had ever since the beginning. "I'm glad you ask. See, memory is a canvas in and of itself. It starts out empty, but with every passing minute new layers of paint get added. Sometimes it's just splashes, sometimes a single brushstroke, and other times it can feel like someone picked up a full bucket of paint and just threw it on there without care. But no matter how little or how much is added, how carefully or roughly it is applied, in the end, every singular speck is an integral part of the whole."

He practically radiated passion. "My next work, my Masterpiece, aims to affect not the individual, but the whole of society. To add a brilliant, golden portrait onto that collective canvas, and then take both it and everything it touched away." His voice slowly increased in intensity with every word spoken. His gaze was unwavering, determined.

"Right. A buncha artsy fartsy misfits are gonna affect all of society. How d'ya plan to do that?" Jess asked with a smirk.

"I plan to hit the Memorial Hall of Legacy."

I raised an eyebrow. The Memorial Hall of Legacy was just an extra fancy name for a nicely decorated tomb. Highly accomplished heroes, those who had lasting impact on a national or even international scale, got the option of being laid to rest there. The costumes were displayed in front of the grave as well as pictures and objects depicting and signifying their great deeds. People could pay to enter and pay their respects. It was a disgusting display of vanity so great it transcended even death. I couldn't believe I once hoped to be granted a spot. I was such a sucker back then. This was interesting though. The Hall of Legacy was not a target I had expected.

"Once there, I and my fellow visionaries will strike at the treasure deep within. The corpse of The One."

My blood froze cold. I glanced at Jess, who seemed surprised too.

"The One? What do ya want with him?" she asked.

"I will give the public what it wants. I have made arrangements and deals with various villains who were gifted with the Powers our circle lacks. We will have full control over the airwaves, if only for a few minutes. We can make an emergency notification appear on every phone in the country. Be seen on every screen. We have someone who can Puppeteer the body, make it seem full of life and vigor. Someone to mimic his voice and speech patterns. We will have him announce his return to America at large. And then at last, when the populace has had just enough time to register what is happening, just when hope and joy begin to fill their hearts...."

He snapped his fingers. "I will take it away. The One will vanish, and with him all memory of him and his deeds. The ultimate expression of the fleeting nature of humanity, a demonstration of the power that memory has over every aspect of our lives. The greatest piece of performance art ever produced. I call it "Incandescence Extinguished"". His eyes were shining brightly, while I could not stop trembling. I didn't know when I started.

"Ya wanna erase The One from everyone's memory?!"

"You don't have to be affected if you don't want to. I offer everyone who assists me the option of holding on to me while I do it."

Jess shook her head. "I like societal upheaval as much as the next bad gal, but this is going a bit far, don't ya think?"

His serene smile did not waver. "Great art begins where nature ends."

She took a step back. "I'm sorry, pal, but we..."

I put my hand on her shoulder, causing her to stop. "We'll do it." I said. "We'll help you. Just say the word. Whatever you need."

Jess looked at me like I had gone insane while Souto's expression was a bit more ambiguous.

"Wonderful. Welcome aboard. Let's create an unforgettable piece of art together."

He offered his hand and I shook it without hesitation.

"Yeah. Let's."