Mordechai and Sylvia made it back to their rented home with no problems. Still, many things bothered Sylvia as she went to the kitchen and got two bowls of the ice cream they had bought. Mordechai went to his room and started to work on his laptop. He installed a security camera just in case anything happened. He can never be too sure or safe. Looking back at the visitors, he couldn't get a good picture of the three ladies who paid him an unexpected visit.

“Typical...” Mordechai cursing his luck.

At least he had the picture of Prof. Antoine Cornelius Fletcher. He remembered everything about what the professor said:

"You did well, Mordechai. Many children in this position would falter or be afraid. Anyone would falter and be afraid."

"To handle such situations. But to handle such chaos with the world crumbling around you."

"You think it's a game. But this is not a game. And if I found you, she already has!"

"She will hunt, catch, and kill anyone who threatens her. I have seen what she can do to her family—to those she claims she loves."

“What you have done last night was nothing more than phenomenal. Even though many creatures walk among us, only a few can be godlike. Last night, it was like our Lord and Savior hand-selected you since you went down to heaven to stop something so sinister..."

“And hopefully, my Lord and Savior will forgive me for my actions.”

“Even though I am confident in my skills, you would be the one walking out of here.”

"Your mother is being held prisoner in another country, Dr. Zayne. The only person we know who can stop this war that will tear this world apart!"

Even the biggest revelation of all, he knew about his mother being Lady Memento, the masked vigilante that had fought against corruption and criminality for decades:

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

"I've seen many children like you with godlike potential. Don't waste the way, but at the same time, don't let it be the death of you."

Taking a screen capture of his face, he wanted to know more about Antoine Cornelius Fletcher. He said he was part of Cambridge University of Technology. But in a surprise, the real Antoine Cornelius Fletcher was not a 7-foot black man but was the least small, overweight, and Hispanic. To make matters worse, he died six months ago of pancreatic cancer.

The man he spoke to was a fraud in using another professor's credentials. To make matters worse, the real professor made reservations for him to come to Oxford, but he was too sick to attend and probably didn't think about canceling his invitation.

So now the real question remained: who in the hell was he? And then it dawned on him that he might have been a member of the Third Revelation. Last night, he did defend himself against the militia that attacked the city of London. Maybe somebody took notes and relayed them to the Holy Mother. Even then, if someone had defected, they would know who it would be.

It was good that he cloned the software and applications from the walkie-talkie and downloaded it on a separate tablet. He accessed the software, trying to pull up any personnel files that the Third Revelation had. Unfortunately, he wasn't so lucky. Maybe the man was new, or he defected sooner and removed any mention of him. The more he dug deep inside those files, the more he tried to keep track of everything.

“Morrie, ice cream!” Sylvia called.

He could use some ice cream as Mordechai left his room to join Sylvia in the kitchen. Already eating her bowl of ice cream, Mordechai sat across from Sylvia as he took a scoop.

“Pistachio and mango!” Mordechai detected as he began eating.

“You have weird tastebuds, Mordechai... I can’t eat that without puking...” Sylvia insults while eating her bowl of vanilla ice cream.

“I guess that’s why they call them genius tastebuds,” Mordechai fired back with a grin.

"Just eat your damn ice cream..." Sylvia bellowed. "So, will you tell me what that big guy said to you?"

"Something about Judgment Day and me being smart enough to usher in the new world. Or whatever it is..." Mordechai lazily summarized while eating his ice cream.

“You don’t think he knows about your mother?” Sylvia wondered.

Mordechai stared at his bowl, "she hasn't been a vigilante in a couple of years, Sylvia. Why give her the collar now?"

"Never be a cop, Mordechai. You get shit pay and get shit on! Just go where the money is!" Sylvia suggested.

Mordechai smirked, “Sure...”

"Morrie, I'm serious. What you did out there was Steve Jobs-worthy. The difference between you and him is that you built and programmed that thing while having his swagger!" Sylvia is modest. "You want to talk about changing the world; here you go. What you have made will change the world..."

“Let’s just hope the world doesn’t burn down before I do something about it...” Mordechai dreaded.

"You are just a kid. It would be best if you didn't have to worry about stuff like that... But I am grateful that you are aware," Sylvia said.

“A conscious 14-year-old boy worldwide is multifariously decaying in front of them. Confusing to many..." Mordechai bantered while finishing his ice cream.