I was picking at the vegetables on the table with a fork. My eyes glued to the plate while the rest of the family ate.

That is, the rest of the family, and Elsie.

Who was apparently best friends with my aunt and cousin now.

"I'm so glad Cecil finally woke up." Aunt Cheryl stated with glee. "Why, I didn't know levelling up could result in such drastic changes."

"What can I say, Cecil is special." Elsie joked. "He was amazing on the farm though. You should have seen how much food he made and how hard he worked. Even when great-Grandpa Carlyle brought in more employees. Cecil was always the first one to rise and the last one to go to bed. I hear some people even started calling him Conan. Like in that movie."

Aunt Cheryl laughed.

"Oh that is so like Cecil. Honestly, he's always been such a responsible young man. Never acted his age. Not unless he was really upset. And even then, he never gave me or Uter trouble."

She turned to my uncle.

"Isn't that right honey?"

Uncle Uter looked up from his plate with an expression that could have curdled milk. Yet his features softened as soon as he looked at the rest of us.

"Yes honey. Of course. I always said Cecil should have been able to play around more. He doesn't know what he's missing."

Eva had been listening to the conversation with rapt attention and she now turned to me with a gleeful expression.

"So? What kinds of magic can you do now?"

I thought of the thing that had been wearing my skin. Of the crimes it had committed. I thought of the experiments. Of the lifeless human bodies thrown back into the Pools. Then, I thought of Mike, of Progress, of the Disappointments, of Mercy and Patience. Of the way they had begged.

I was doubled over before I knew it.

"Cecil!" Aunt Cheryl screeched. "If you're going to throw up then do it in the washroom!"

I took her advice and rushed for the toilet.

I grabbed the thing with both hands and hurled.

Until there wasn't anything left in my stomach.

I stayed there for the rest of the hour and didn't come out again until it was time to do the dishes.

Cupcake was there waiting for me. And beside her, Elsie. Helping aunt Cheryl with the cutlery.

I walked past them and went to the yard. Finding a log and sitting on it, with both hands glued to my cheeks.

I sat there for another hour. Staring at nothing in particular.

My eyes could see much farther now, despite the encroaching darkness of fall.

I could make out each and every leaf on each and every tree for about half a kilometer. My eyes tracking each sway without much effort on my part.

I even knew uncle Uter was coming over without having to turn my head.

He sat on a stool that he'd brought and waited for me in silence.

"It's all lies." I told him.

"I figured." He said nonchalantly. "They probably had you working on a coal mine next to some hungry orphans for you to act like that."

"No. Not that part. I really was on a farm and I really did grow more food than you could possibly imagine and I was the first to get up and the last to stop."

He grunted.

"And then?"

I choked on my own breath. Feeling a single tear running down my face.

"I... I did some bad things. Uncle. I... I don't.... I lost control. I don't even know what to do about it. I..."

"Me too." He said calmly.

I turned to him. Fury rising.

"No! Not you too! You couldn't know. You couldn't even imagine the things I... the things I..."

My hands went for my stomach and I dry-heaved onto the yard. Thankfully, there was nothing left for me to throw up.

Uncle Uter watched me silently. Not saying a word.

Then he placed a single hand on my shoulder and drew me in so that my head rested on his own shoulder. It felt awkward and comical, given how much bigger I was. But I found that I did not care. I kept crying.

"I got a core, you know. [Chimera]. Apparently it has a lot in common with yours."

I nodded, but couldn't say anything.

"The nurse was very rude. She even went so far as to say she was surprised I got something that good."

Uncle Uter snorted.

"The people here never miss an opportunity to put the little man down. Honestly. I was told that it was on the 4th Stage, and they were acting as if it was too good for the likes of me. And it isn't the first time. I've had a few opportunities to talk to other people from different communities. The kind that the good folk here don't like to talk about. People with basic cores or Stage 2 or 3 cores."

Uncle Uter let out a self-deprecating laugh.

"They get treated like lepers you know. Like there's something wrong with them. Despite their only crime having been born with less magic potential than others. You should see how it really is Cecil. These people, they've internalized their own oppression. Rationalized it even. I had some very respectable gentlemen, in very high positions, kiss my ass like there was no tomorrow, just because I was related to someone with a 7th-Stage core. I only mentioned you in passing, but that was all some of the folks there could think about. A couple even wanted you to meet their daughters. It was disgusting."

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There was steel in his voice now. Cold and unrelenting force that carried his own feelings.

"I lost it. Shouting at her. Then at the doctor. Then, I don't know. I lost some time. Next thing you know, I'm in the slammer for biting the doctor. Apparently I went for the throat. The woman was level 6, so she didn't feel it, but those are still serious charges. I got 300 hours of community service and the judge told me I got off easy, due to my stressful circumstances. Then he told me I was on a watchlist due to having a blacklisted Skill."

Uncle Uter sighed.

"It's been quite a tumultuous month, to say the least. I feel as though everything is wrong and it's all my fault. So yes, Cecil. I understand. You can tell me the truth. Whatever it is."

I told him.

Everything.

"Well. Fuck me." Uncle Uter spoke up when it was done. "That was way worse that I thought."

He paused for a second.

"But I still don't think it was all your fault Cecil."

"How is this not my fault?" I asked through sobs.

"Well, for one, you're fourteen. One, four. The old coot knew this and he still left you unsupervised in the middle of North Korea of all places. Surrounded by people who could have been terrorists or predators or cannibals for all he knew. He then came back only occasionally and then tried to push his great grandkid on you."

He paused to spit.

"Don't get me wrong, Elsie's been a great help around the house and Cheryl and Eva love her. She's been putting in effort to make both of them fit in and they both appreciate it. Especially Eva. Elsie, she's... She's an alright kid. But that's just it. You two are kids. What the old coot did, what he and all these sick people stand for, is all kinds of fucked up. If this were the real world, there would be at least one lawsuit headed his way. Just for that bit."

He spat again.

"Then, as if that weren't enough, he left you to roam as much as you wanted. Unsupervised. Around a place he knew damn well would be crawling with monsters sooner rather than later and he did all this knowing that you were new to magic and that you'd recently had a blackout where you couldn't recall what had happened. No matter how you slice it, that is a load of irresponsible bullshit piled several floors high."

His grip tightened. Though even at its strongest, I still felt it as a weak tug.

"Mind you, if this were the real world, me and Cheryl would never leave you alone after dark. Not with your friends and certainly not with adult strangers. Call us helicopter parents or overbearing guardians or whatever else you like, but I would never dream of leaving you unsupervised. I love you too much. We all do. I could never face your father if I...."

He choked back tears.

"Even with magic and global hunger factored in, that screams suspicious bullshit."

"Is the hunger real?" I asked him suddenly. "Did I at least help?"

"You did." Uncle Uter spoke at once. "More than you could possibly imagine. There are children all across the world that are eating well because of you."

He chuckled dryly.

"None of them are in first-world countries, on account of the investigations, but no one can deny the fact that this enterprise has saved lives."

I felt a bit better after hearing that. Not a lot, but it helped.

"What's the investigation about?" I asked after a while.

I noticed the change immediately. Uncle Uter felt happier. Standing straighter.

"Oh, that's nothing. It just so happens that one of the other compounds has a mole."

"A mole?"

"An informer." Uncle Uter clarified. "Someone who, somehow, managed to gather a whole lot of incriminating evidence against one Mr. Carlyle Robertson. From suspiciously timed acquisitions to suspiciously good runs on the stock market every now and then, followed by years upon years of silence. Almost as if he knew what would happen."

"Of course he knew what would happen. He's a time traveler."

"Well, yes. But that's not how a judge would see it. Make a few good calls in long career and it might be seen as luck or skill. Pull out of Enron right before it falls and invest it all on up-and-coming tech companies and it might be seen as vision. Pull that off three or four more times without ever losing any major trades and that becomes a completely different matter. They might instead see it as, oh I don't know, fraud. Fraud on a massive scale."

He chuckled.

"Then there is the fact that all your crops are, unusual. Which has led to more federal and international inquiries. What with all the constipation that suspiciously doesn't seem to have adverse effects or cause any real blockage at all. Almost as if the whole meal is completely used up without any waste being produced in the body. Add in the suspicious way all these rural people are now speaking English as if it was normal on top of their native language, the sudden buildup of muscle, the fact that a lot of them now look 3 to 8 years younger and you can kind of see their point. This stuff seems magical, which usually means there's a catch. The current consensus is that Mr. Robertson's been tampering with genetic engineering at an unprecedented level, without running the changes past the FDA first."

"Fair enough." I grumbled. "I'd think that too, if I were in their shoes."

"Then there are the accusations of racism and discrimination to consider."

"Mr. Robertson is racist?" I asked. Honestly surprised. "He's got all kinds of family members married to all kinds of people."

"True." Uncle Uter agreed. "But none of those people are French. Or Japanese. As luck would have it, there has never been a single person of Japanese descent working for any of Mr. Robertson's companies on the executive level. None with any real power anyway."

"That seems flimsy." I said. "I'm not sure how those trials go, but I think you need more than that to convict him of anything."

"Oh that's just the start of it Cecil." Uncle Uter assured me. "There is also documented evidence that Mr. Robertson has been shorting the stocks of Japan-based companies for decades. Even when he stood to lose millions. Maybe out of a grand vision of profit, maybe out of pure spite. Anytime he managed to weaken one of those local enterprises enough, he would buy them out, shut them down, dissolve the company's assets and sell them all for a tidy profit. Or not. Again, he's done this even when stood to lose money on the venture."

That, somehow did not surprise me. With all the things I knew about the old man, this level of pettiness would be completely in-character.

"Is that illegal?" I asked. Genuinely not knowing.

"It depends on what tactics were used, but it isn't inherently illegal." Uncle Uter informed me. "What is questionable are those recordings the mole managed to fish out of the servers in Europe. The ones where he calls French people a bunch of cheese-sniffing surrender monkeys. Among other things. Then he went on to say that maybe a third of those cheese-sniffing surrender monkeys actually knew who their real fathers were. If they were lucky."

"Holy shit." I said aloud.

"Yeah. And you don't even want to know the things Mr. Robertson has said about Japanese people behind locked doors. He'd fit right in with certain extremist groups."

I looked back to the house.

"Aren't you worried that Elsie will read your mind?"

"No." Uncle Utter smiled at me.

"As luck would have it, there is an upside to having a blacklisted Skill."

He leaned in closer.

"If you focus some magic through those channels, you can make any mind-readers blank out around you. With a bit of focus, you can even make them hear the voice of the Skill, instead of your own voice. It doesn't take much. I promise. Not nearly enough to lose control. Try it."

I paled and brought my head up so that I was looking down at him again.

"No!"

"Just try it." Uncle Uter insisted. "I promise it won't amount to anything. I'm even doing it right now."

"No!" I insisted.

I was about to leave, when uncle Uter grabbed my hand.

"Cecil." He began again. "I know how it feels to lose control. I know. That's why I'm trying to help you."

He stood up too.

"You'll never feel comfortable in your own skin again unless you get control over the Skill. You know that. Running away from it won't lead to anything good."

He tightened his grip again.

"Just, trust me. Have I ever lied to you before? Have I ever tricked you into doing something that wasn't in your own best interest?"

I stopped but couldn't bring myself to even consider it.

"I'm sorry, Uncle. I can't..."

"Cecil." He interrupted me.

"This is important. I don't want you to feel unsafe. Not in regards to yourself. Please. For me."

I looked into his eyes. Pleading with him.

Yet they would not budge.

So, I let a bit of magic trickle through. Just a little.

And I felt a shield forming around my head.

No, not a shield.

A covering.

A second, disconnected will.

Then, that will spoke up.

'I can explain.'