Fate Reylin

"With him now being captured, will he be interrogated?"

At this point, it's the only thing I care about. My original plan was to slowly steer Rise towards capturing Painter, but he started hunting for his next target sooner than I'd have liked.

Beyond that, everything has more or less turned out as I wanted. The only problem was how little time I actually had to prepare. He began moving at the worst possible time.

I had to somehow convince the remaining investigators to leave the HQ, and have them accidentally stumble across Painter. And it worked surprisingly well—except for one small improvisation.

Tch.

I manipulated his blade using my power—it cut deep enough to be serious, but not deep enough to cause any permanent damage. Being pushed to that point is infuriating.

But it was necessary. I'd already sent the majority of the task force on a search for the coordinates, and immediately after that, I took the remainder out on another search—and we happened to capture Painter.

Such a coincidence wouldn't go unnoticed.

"He's already awake. He'll be transferred to police HQ, they'll try to get a confession, and the location of anymore victims."

The chief explains. All of us listen carefully, except for Rise who sits beside me quietly.

"Can we interrogate him?" Damian asks hesitatingly.

That's surprising. I thought I'd have to ask that question

"Of course. But before that—I need to know what the hell you four were thinking." Chief Alexia scoffs angrily.

And there's the reason I needed to be injured. I can act out being completely ignorant of Painter being here—no one would believe that I planned his capture, considering the severity of my injury.

"F-Fate believed we'd find surveillance data containing Painter's movements...No one could have known he'd actually be here." Kris states timidly.

"We thought the extra evidence could lead to him being captured sooner..." Liliana adds.

Everyone remains silent.

"How did you even end up chasing him anyway!? Why didn't anyone notify HQ!?" Alexia demands.

Kris opens his mouth, but I stop him.

"There wasn't any time to. Our focus was to stop him from killing anyone else—we did. Had we hesitated, he would have escaped." I say neutrally. I wave my injured arm around, making a point.

That quiets the arguing pretty quick.

Heh. Seeing how guilty everyone looks almost makes me feel bad. Almost.

I try to look towards Rise, but she doesn't meet my eyes. She looks miserable. She's the only downside to my plan. I knew she'd most likely blame herself if I was injured. I didn't want to hurt her... But I did.

"Fine, whatever! Just don't do it again!" Alexia shouts angrily, glaring at the others.

I mostly tune out at this point. Kris narrates the full story of Painter's capture to the task force, everyone keeps staring at me throughout. Their looks of sympathy make me want to crawl out of my skin.

Rise grips my hand hard enough that it hurts.

As soon as Kris' narration is done, Alexia begins berating him, Aria, Liliana, and even myself occasionally.

I fully understand her frustration, but her yelling's giving me a headache.

Finally, she stops talking, and turns to me.

"Do you have anything you want to add?" Alexia asks, looking straight into my eyes.

My answer is simple:

"Nope."

Alexia sighs deeply, shaking her head sadly.

"Very well. We're transferring him to HQ now, when we're all back at HQ—you may all watch his interrogation." She says. She takes a brief second to pause.

"Congratulations everyone. This is your victory. If you hadn't stopped him today, he would have continued slaughtering innocent people. You saved countless lives. We can hold a celebration later."

Chief Alexia claps once, smiling proudly.

The other members of the task force join her applause.

Afterward, Rise excuses herself, saying that she needs to check in on Kenzo. Watching her leave makes me uncomfortable. I focus my sixth sense on her and Kenzo, but I can't make out what they're talking about.

They seem like they're having an intimate conversation, which worries me.

Once most of the task force has left my room, Chief Alexia turns her attention onto me.

"So, Fate... How are you feeling?"

"Great. I only got stabbed by a maniac."

She laughs softly, patting my shoulder reassuringly.

"If Kris' testimony is correct, I'd say it's more of a slash than a stab."

"Whatever. It still hurt."

It may have been necessary, but I'm still not exactly happy about it. It still hurts.

"Yes, I imagine it did. I'm sorry to hear that. That must have been painful."

"It was."

She doesn't seem suspicious of anything, so that's good. But at this point, I only want to sleep. I've had to constantly wake up throughout the night in order to scan for Painter with my sixth sense—my power doesn't work while I'm asleep, and I had to make sure he wasn't killing anybody.

Now that he's in police custody, I can finally sleep without worrying about his actions.

"Alright, well I can take you home as soon as you're ready. I'll also inform your mother of what happened." She says in a soft voice.

Shit. I forgot that my mother would be hearing about what happened.

"Could you please not inform her? I don't want her to worry over nothing." I ask, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

She instantly looks at me sharply.

"Are you sure?"

I nod quickly.

"Absolutely."

I watch her wrestle with my suggestion for a few seconds.

If anything, she should be happy. She could get in a lot of trouble if my mother made a fuss about me being injured.

But eventually, she relents, agreeing with my request.

"Alright, I won't tell her. But let me know if you change your mind."

"Thanks."

"And Fate... Thanks for your help in this case—and thank you for protecting my idiot subordinates, I'll make sure they understand where they went wrong."

She sounds sincere. I smile weakly in response.

***

Everything will be determined today. I woke up in my own room for the first time in days, and I'm currently making my way back to task force HQ.

I've gone over everything, and I've continued to monitor everything with my sixth sense.

The pieces are all in play, the only problem is how to get myself alone with Painter. I need to question him alone, but there's no way the police will let me waltz in and talk to him without being monitored.

I spent quite a bit of the night going over potential plans. I'll try convincing Alexia to let me interrogate him alone, and simply disable the electronics—but I highly doubt that'll work.

I'll do everything I can to avoid a more hands on approach, but everything's on the table.

My sixth sense hasn't helped in gaining more information on the shadow. For now, my only hope is getting Painter to reveal any information he may possess.

If worst comes to worse, I'll use my power to disconnect the HQ's connection to the power grid. It'll effectively blind the officers, but if I go that route—I'll need to incapacitate innocent officers using my power. There's just too much risk involved.

But if that's my only option... Then so be it.

Right now though, I'm heading to task force HQ, where I'm hoping to see Rise. She hasn't said a word to me after speaking with Kenzo.

She left with him to some restaurant last night. I want to speak with her, but for now, my focus needs to be elsewhere.

***

The moment I enter HQ, there's already another apparent issue. They're already transferring him from his cell to an interrogation room. The room they're taking him to has one way walls—if he's in one of those rooms, it won't matter if we're alone. Everything will be watched.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Well, this won't be subtle but it'll work.

I focus my sixth sense on the HQ. I slowly envelope the doors leading to the interrogation room in my aura. While making sure not to entirely destroy the door, I manipulate its lock enough that it becomes impossible to open.

At least luck seems to be partially on my side today.

The second interrogation room they bring him to is isolated—outside of cameras, and microphones.

Now, I only need to get myself alone with him.

And as soon as I get the info I need from him... He can face retribution for his crimes.

"Fate. Are you alright?"

Liliana walks up beside me, concern written clearly across her face. I return her concerned gaze.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

Acting the part of the always friendly, outgoing prodigy is annoying. And it's exhausting. Thankfully, I'm used to pretending to be someone else.

I do my best to seem cheerful.

"Are you sure you should be here already? You should recuperate for a few days at least."

"I'm fine."

She shakes her head slightly.

"You shouldn't push yourself like this."

Liliana Tamera: seen by her colleagues as a genius young investigator. Kind, easy to get along with, doesn't speak much, intelligent—but lacks the confidence to achieve anything.

In reality, Liliana is a total coward. She hides behind her intelligence and lack of social skills because she's afraid of failure.

Her fear of failing prevents her from achieving anything great.

She believes that she's not as smart as everyone thinks she is, and she fears she'll never amount to anything.

Because of this, she tries her hardest to stay out of any situations where she might fail.

She's capable of great things, but she's too terrified to ever attempt them.

"Relax, I'll be fine. I couldn't miss him finally being held accountable for his crimes."

I say confidently. My words aren't false, but their meaning is different from what Liliana thinks.

"I get how you feel—I do, but don't overdo it."

She smiles warmly at me.

"Don't worry, I'll be okay."

We walk to task force HQ together. We don't speak much while walking together. After yesterday, it's clear that she's uneasy around me.

Working with Rise's task force has been... different from what I expected.

With Rise's genius, I expected her colleagues to be at a similar level. I thought they'd be an incredible gathering of investigators with great ability.

Instead, they're quite disappointing.

Their abilities are average at best, and their personalities range from mediocre to downright unpleasant. They're great people, but not great investigators.

That said, I have no idea why Rise chose them to be a part of this team.

Maybe they were friends with Rise, or maybe they impressed Rise during some sort of trial. Either way, none of them have particularly impressive backgrounds.

Even though they're all decent individuals, individually they're lacking compared to Rise.

It's unfortunate, but they're living proof that the current justice apparatus is ineffective. That system is incapable of carrying out true justice, and protecting the innocent.

I suppose it's to be expected, they're only human, after all.

"Get me everything! I can't believe we're wasting time questioning this psychopath." Alexia yells.

It's pretty clear their interrogation hasn't gone well.

I spent some time monitoring Painter last night, and I've also monitored him this morning. As far as I can tell, he said a single sentence after being brought to the interrogation room, and hasn't said a word to police since then.

He's refusing to cooperate with the police.

Alexia is pissed off, but I can't blame her.

"It's not surprising—the guy's clearly insane. We didn't expect him to give us any useful answers anyway." Kenzo adds, sounding annoyed.

He's closer to Rise than previously. They're sitting close together at the table, whispering quietly to each other.

She's barely glancing towards me, and she's completely refusing to meet my eyes.

I don't like this.

"I think we need to consider our options—" Before Damian can finish, the door opens. A man enters the room, looking extremely tense. He's noticeably larger than most men. I think his name was Avery or something—I don't think I've said more than ten words to the man, even after being here for multiple days.

"He's refusing to speak with interrogators—he said he'd only speak to the one responsible for his capture. Alone." Avery says, gesturing toward me.

"What?!" Alexia shouts, jumping to her feet.

Avery nods grimly, keeping his attention focused on me.

That's... Unexpected.

"Why would he refuse to talk to us—but want to talk with Fate?" Damian asks angrily.

"Who cares!" Alexia snaps.

That sends the room into a tense silence. RIse starts glancing towards me repeatedly, I try to meet her eyes, but she looks away immediately after.

She's not even speaking. Normally, she'd argue against such a suggestion without hesitation—but she's not.

This isn't her normal behavior.

There's tension in the air, and nobody wants to address it.

I'm not going to get a better opportunity than this—might as well give it a shot before going to a more drastic plan.

"For what it's worth—I'd be willing to speak with him, if it could help."

I stand up straight, meeting Alexia's glare. She stares daggers at me, but doesn't say anything.

Everyone sends glances between Alexia and I several times, obviously confused by this turn of events.

Kenzo, however, remains silent throughout this entire exchange.

I guess he doesn't care either way. He stays seated next to Rise.

"He's killed dozens of people—do I even need to articulate why speaking with him alone is dangerous?" Alexia replies coldly, still staring daggers at me.

"He's dangerous, but he already failed to kill me once. If he has more victims that haven't been found—we need to at least try getting their location from him. We owe it to the families of his victims."

I speak as calmly as I can—completely disregarding Alexia's obvious anger. I act as if I'm indifferent to her decision.

She stands silently, glaring at me.

You'd think she'd be a bit softer, considering the fact I'm the one who got injured capturing the man.

Damian and Liliana look at me curiously.

Rise continues staring at the table in front of her.

Finally, she speaks.

"...Fine. You've already done this much, might as well give you a chance."

Alexia sighs loudly.

I nod, keeping my expression calm and collected.

***

"Painter's real name is Charles Erikson, he was originally a surgeon, before quitting with absolutely zero notice a bit over a year ago."

Alexia's leading me to the interrogation room. I already know everything about the man, but I have to feign ignorance, and act as if this is my first time learning any of this.

"You already know how dangerous he is... We'll be watching the room at all times, we'll all be in the room next to you. If anything happens, yell, and we'll be there in seconds."

"Understood."

We reach the door of the interrogation room, she knocks on it three times, and George walks out accompanied by two armed interrogators.

"Good luck kid, but this maniac's brain seems pretty fried. He doesn't respond to anything." George chuckles nervously.

"We'll see." Alexia responds flatly.

"See if you can get him to talk about the location of his victims, a confession would also be nice, but we have more than enough to convict him based on evidence we've gathered so far."

Alexia pats my back, probably trying to reassure me.

I smile weakly in response.

"Well... Good luck."

I enter the room, as she closes the door behind me.

I get why everyone's so tense about this. From their perspective, they're basically tossing me to the wolf. It makes sense they'd be worried.

Entering the room feels wrong somehow.

It's too quiet, almost eerie. There's nothing to break the silence except for my breathing. The room itself is fairly spacious, but the pure white walls, table, and chairs make it feel small.

No windows, no decorations.

The room is bare.

I take a few seconds to look at the man I'd been slowly entrapping over the last ten days or so. Charles Erikson sits in a chair facing me. His hands are shackled to the table, preventing him from moving. He still has a straitjacket wrapped around him.

They must've fully restrained him when they brought him here.

He looks different in person. Observing him from miles away using my sixth sense, he seemed... small, insignificant. He was like an ant being observed from above, rather than a human being.

When we fought yesterday, I of course saw him, but at that point he was nothing more than a fly caught in a spider's web. I didn't take the time to really look at him using my eyes.

He lacks the confidence he had yesterday, he even remains slouched over—but he still seems massive. Something about his presence is unsettling, I don't know why exactly.

His hair is long, almost down to his shoulders, and messy—but it's hard to tell if he just doesn't care or if he's actually dirty. His skin is pale, almost sickly-looking—his face appears gaunt, with dark circles under his eyes. That still doesn't conceal his massive frame.

His dark eyes look empty—like someone who's lost all hope.

Charles Erikson looks very, very tired.

"Hello again." I greet him softly.

I ignore the fact that he hasn't responded, instead focusing on building rapport with him. When I set in the chair across from him, he seems almost startled.

I stare at him intently for a second longer, then start talking.

"My name's Fate Reylin, you said you'd speak with me only."

Erikson gives me a quick glance, then returns his gaze to the table.

"Everyone says you're crazy, but I know that isn't true."

That catches his attention. He finally looks directly at me.

Now that I have his attention, it's time to get the answers I want. I disable the cameras with my power, and force the door to remain closed. My power has enough strength to lift hundreds of tons, it's impossible for a human to open that door.

I sense the panic in the observation room immediately. The task force, and about a dozen officers repeatedly attempt to reactivate the cameras—a useless endeavor. Rise appears to be shouting orders frantically, but they're pointless. I don't like worrying her, but it's necessary.

With the room being isolated, we finally have privacy.

"I disabled the cameras, and jammed the door shut. No one will be disturbing us."

There's little reason for me to continue acting like the outgoing, friendly prodigy. I stand up from my seat, and begin circling around him. Without any observers, there's nothing stopping me from using my power on him if needed.

As I walk around him, he starts staring at the table, avoiding eye contact. I stop walking a short distance away from him.

"You said you wanted to speak with me, but the truth is, you're only here because I wanted to speak with you."

He hesitates slightly at my statement, but doesn't reply.

"It only took me a couple days to find you, the only reason you were free for so long was because I wanted the task force to capture you."

Again, he pauses briefly, but doesn't answer.

"Now that it's just you and me, we can be truthful with each other. The art you created, it wasn't a senseless massacre. You did it for a reason, they were messages—weren't they?"

He finally looks me in the eye. His heart rate's elevated, and his pupils dilated—but otherwise he doesn't seem particularly scared.

"H-How do you..?"

At least he's responding to me now. Compared to the confident serial killer I fought with yesterday, he's practically a nervous wreck right now. He seems desperate to avoid answering my question.

"Let me ask you another question: Why did you spend so much time creating your art? What message were you trying to send?"

I keep my tone neutral, hoping to gain some insight into his mind.

He swallows audibly, but doesn't respond.

"Answer me honestly."

I repeat myself. He looks down again, refusing to interact.

I was hoping I wouldn't need to do this, but he leaves me little choice. I envelope his body with my power, I start pressuring his entire body. I hear him intake a breath, before the pressure becomes too much, and he's left unable to breath.

His face starts flushing red, his eyes bulging out. He tries to scream, but he's cut off mid-yelp. His mouth opens wide, but no sound comes out.

I wait for a few seconds, when it's clear his reaching his limit, I release his lungs instantly, letting them fill back up naturally.

After a moment, I let go of his chest entirely—he gasps in relief.

His eyes widen, looking at me fearfully. He looks terrified, his eyes darting everywhere, searching desperately for an escape route.

But he can't move. Not without breaking free of his restraints.

He's completely helpless against me.

I don't like hurting people, even criminals, but I need to know the truth.

I sit back down in the chair across from him, I lean close to him.

"I want information on the shadow—and I think you can give me that."

It's like hearing my words caused a flip to switch inside of Erickson. He's no longer acting like a timid mouse. He sits up straight, and leans forward towards me. Even his eyes look different, filled with determination.

"S-Shadow? You've seen the corruption?"

Corruption? What does he mean by that? Is that what he calls the shadow I found?

"Yes, I've seen it."

Again, his reaction to hearing my words is unexpected. I hear him let out a pain filled laugh, followed by a sob. This is starting to become quite concerning.

"Hehehe, I'm not crazy... You've seen it too?!"

I hesitate for a second before replying. The way his demeanor changes so quickly worries me. His emotions are fluctuating wildly. He goes from timid, to confident, to crying. He's hysterical.

"Yes. I want you to tell me everything you know about it."

I try to stay calm while speaking, but he takes the opportunity to shout something unintelligible.

"Calm yourself! Just answer my questions!"

I use my power to push him down into the chair, making sure to keep him immobilized.

"What are you? What is this?"

This time I pause to consider my answer, deciding that honesty might work better than lies.

"This is something that belongs to me, I control it. Now, I need you to answer my questions, or I'll have no choice but to take drastic action."

A strange expression crosses his face, mixed between anger, sadness, and confusion. After a few seconds, he becomes eerily calm.

"Okay. But I want something in return."

His eyes burn directly into mine, his voice sounds firm, as though he means every word he says. Does he not realize the position he's in? Does he think he has an ounce of leverage? Before shutting him down completely, I might as well hear him out.

"What?"

"I can't spend the rest of my life in prison. What I want in return is simple—death."