Jeremy closed his house’s door behind him, then flicked on the lights. It was the same as always, as if nothing had happened. Behind the windows, the cold night’s wind howled solemnly.

He walked across the room to the right, navigating past the kitchen table and couches. His brisk footsteps’ creaks against the hardwood floor were the only sound from inside the house, the sounds eerie to his ears.

For a moment, he stood still, looking at his bedroom door with a pained expression. Then, he walked in.

Bright light filled Jeremy’s room when he woke up, aggravating him into standing to close the shudders.

Now too riled to go back to sleep, he checked the time on his phone.

10:00.

“Damn it, I’m late!”

He quickly got prepared to leave, putting on his clothes before walking out and burying himself in his pantry, looking for a quick snack before he woke up...

Psychi.

It was so quiet in here. The house, with the roaring wind outside, felt haunted. He shivered, the cold temperature getting to him as his expression curled in fear.

Slowly, he turned to look toward the now empty room Psychi should have been in, only to see a blue-robed figure leaning against the door, looking at him with cold, piercing eyes.

He stepped back.

“So, did you have a nice respite from your headache?”

Jeremy tried to regain his composure. “W-yeah, I did.”

“Good to know.”

There was an awkward period of silence.

“So, w-what’s your name?” Jeremy asked in a conversational tone as he grabbed an energy bar without looking.

“My name? Most people call me...” The person smiled and shook their head. “You can call me...Hatty.”

“Like, hat-ee?”

“Yes.”

“Sounds like you made it up just now.”

“Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t,” the person said, spreading one hand out for each possibility.

“Yeah, ok,” Jeremy said dismissively as he threw the pantry closed. He walked to his couch and sat. “So, I have a question for you. Are you talking vaguely because you’re an ass or because you don’t actually know what you’re saying?”

“I won’t lie, it’s a mix of both.” It shrugged. “Just a habit, really.”

Jeremy tore into the bar, raising an eyebrow at them. “You super psychics are...whacky people.”

“Including your sister?”

“Yeah, including her. I can’t imagine being as boring as she is with the sort of powers she has.”

“That’s...a bit harsh, don’t you think?”

Jeremy sighed. “Yeah, yeah, it is. A lot of bad shit’s hitting the world right now, and I wouldn’t want to be a part of it either. She’s basically destined to fight The Living Catastrophe, and...well, we all know how scary that guy is...”

The being clicked its tongue thoughtfully, nodding. “A horror, to be sure.” Unfortunately, the irony and truth of what Jeremy said were only known to the being.

Jeremy propped his legs on the coffee table in front of the TV. “So, Mr.Projection, what’s your deal? Why am I important to your operations?”

“Good question, and one I can’t really answer.”

“You’re a serious secret keeper.”

“A real man of the secrets, you could say.” the thing said jokingly. “But honestly, I don’t know the reason why I can’t answer.”

“Let me guess: you won’t tell me why you don’t know why either?”

“Smart boy.” The being winked, then walked through the coffee table and sat on the edge opposite of Jeremy. “I think you’re getting impatient, so I’ll tell you why I’m here.”

“I was.”

“Get out a piece of paper, will you?”

Jeremy pulled writing equipment out of his backpack, which was already on his back. “So what, you’re gonna give me a laundry list?”

“The girl’s phone number is 819-273-1500.”

He quickly wrote the number down, then squinted at it concernedly. “Why is that number familiar...”

“I dunno. Have you called her before?”

Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

“No, I mean the specific number combination...whatever. Also, why the heck did you just give me Jana’s phone number? Its hers, right?”

They shrugged. “Yes, I gave it to you because she is vital.”

“Really? I thought she was dead!” Jeremy replied sarcastically. “Vital to what?”

“Without her, your chances of saving your sister are very low.”

He narrowed his eyes, looking at the being suspiciously. “Why?”

“Can’t tell you that.”

“Sure, bucko.” Jeremy pulled his phone out and called someone.

The being tilted their head, surprised. “I expected more resistance from you.”

He shook his head. “No, I’m just calling the school to say I won’t be able to come since my sis is gone.”

“Ahh, that explains it.” They sat up, ready to leave. “Well, just know that, if you want more advice from me, I’m expecting you will call her. After all, she probably isn’t exactly going to arrive at your doorstep without prompt...” The blue-robed person watched Jeremy with annoyance as he spoke to a person on the phone, explaining his situation vaguely to them. It took a minute, but he finally put the phone down.

“Oh, thought you’d already left.” He said, looking back to the blue-robed person with pretend surprise.

“Doubtful,” the being responded, irritated. “Well, I’ll be seeing y-”

The door’s bell rang.

...

Jeremy walked to the door and opened it.

“Hello, are you Jeremy-”

He shut the door, locked it, then went back to his seat. He pulled a remote out from between the couch’s cushions, then started browsing a streaming service on his TV.

“Uhh, ok...Siblings really are two sides of the same coin,” the being commented, looking at it absently.

Jeremy looked back at them. “Are you going to leave yet...what was it...Hatty?”

Hatty nodded but looked at the door worriedly as more knocks resounded through the house. “Oh, yes...well, I guess I’ll see you when you actually do things.”

Jeremy’s head swiveled to look at them with a frown, but Hatty was already gone. “What was that supposed to mean.”

----------------------------------------

Jana sat on her balcony table, enjoying the intense winter winds in a new tank top, her white hair billowing.

Most people thought she just dyed her hair white, but it really was a natural byproduct of whatever made her immune to the cold. Psychic powers weren’t always as straightforward as they seemed, and sometimes, weird things resulted.

The phenomenon of biological mutations from psychic powers was usually called ‘Psychic Alterations’.

Jana heard a knock at her door.

She slid off the table, then flew to the door, leaning back like she was on Heelys. She opened it to reveal a man in his mid-twenties wearing a beanie with a phone in his shirt pocket.

“Hello,” he said in french. “I’m Mattew Kalson. Could I have a word with you...” He shivered as freezing cold air fell out of Jana’s room. “...Miss Jana Pontoon?”

She motioned her head towards her balcony, smirking with challenge. “If you’re willing to sit there.”

“Oh, yes, I...can...” He raised an eyebrow as he realized just how cold the balcony would be. There was almost a foot of snow on the chairs and floor already. Jana’s room was a mess as well, and evidently, even psychic powers couldn’t make some people like cleaning. “..sit there.”

“Cool. I’ll heat up some warm milk.”

“S-sure.” He began exploring the place, trying to get a feel for the type of person Jana was.

“So,” she began, manually getting a bag of milk from a cabinet lined on the inside with ice. “You’re a reporter, right?”

He nodded, placing a hand on a worn punching bag on the side of the room. “Yeah, I am.”

“Why’re you here?” she asked. She poured the milk bag into a saucepan, then put it over her stove.

“Well, there’s news that you and the other super psychic, Psychi-”

“Yeah, we fought,” Jana said, glaring at him for a moment before looking back to the stove and lighting it. “What about it?”

“Y-yes. As I was saying, she was recorded flying away from a mysterious green light after your fight. I was here to ask if you knew anything about it.”

The stove’s lighter kept sparking. “Damn it, it won’t light!” A drawer in a nearby desk opened, and a long-nozzle lighter flung from it into Jana’s hand. She fiddled around with it for a bit before finally catching the stove alight beneath the milk. “Well, to be short, I know nothing.”

“Right...” Mattew said skeptically. “Then what about the fight beforehand?”

She leaned against her nearby counter. “Well, you should already know why we fought, right?” she asked, aggressively cocking an eyebrow.

“Err...y-yeah, you fought because you fight her every once in a while for...training?”

Jana nodded, appreciating his research. However, she did not realize that she had a bad but warranted reputation for twisting stories to fit her own narrative, which had caused journalists to research her opinions in specific so as not to get to her very dangerous bad side.

“Long story short, I went a little overboard when I fought her, and I pushed Psychi too far. She went berserk and damn well nearly killed me. Heck, she broke my rib when she did. It might not look like it, but I’m only pretending to walk -I’m flying to make myself more comfortable, and I took a painkiller before I went back here.”

The journalist raised an eyebrow. “Are you gonna get that checked out by a healer?”

“If I feel like it.”

“You must have a high pain tolerance, then.”

Jana sent him an amused smile. “You could say I was tortured too long before to give a shit now.”

He frowned in confusion. “Ok, duly noted. Oh, and you’re fine if I’m recording this?”

“Obviously. Oh, right, my fight. So, after that, I don’t remember anything; she knocked me braindead.”

“W-wait what? ‘Braindead?’”

“Yeah. Are you not familiar with that term? We use it a lot in psychic fighting rings. It refers to when psychics are incapacitated from mental exhaustion.”

“Oh, no, I was not familiar with the term,” he admitted. “Do you participate in fighting rings?”

Jana stirred the milk. “No, obviously not. Massacres don’t lend well to theatrics. I mostly prepare the stages and organize events.”

“Right. There aren't many super psychics to fight.”

Jana shrugged. “And even if there were, an arena wouldn’t hold us. Have you met many psychics at all?”

“Yeah, my good friend is a psychic.”

“What type?”

“Umm, they have aquakinesis and psychic barrier.”

“Hmm...” Jana dipped a finger into the milk. “Looks hot.” She manually poured herself and the reporter the milk, handing him his share before walking to the balcony and flying to sit on the table, laying her legs across it lazily and leaning back at an impossibly obtuse angle.

Reluctantly, Mattew joined her, dusting off snow then sitting on the chair furthest from the aggravatingly dominant girl. “So...what do you know about the origin of the green light?”

“I said all I can, dude. I wasn’t there to witness the event, but I heard about what happened afterward from a friend. He saw it all.”

“Oh? Who was that?”

“He uhh...probably doesn’t need the attention. I’ll tell you, though, that he saw what went down at the very end. Psychi was enveloped by the green light and disappeared.”

Mattew frowned in a subtly accusing manner. “Alright. Do you know why it may have happened?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it was a rogue psychic with an undocumented ability, maybe it was freakin’ magic. I don’t even know what it looked like. If you want to know more about Psychi, ask Parkarka, not me. They seem pretty chummy.”

“Right...” Mattew huddled beneath his coat, battered by the cold winds. “Well, since I’m here, how about you tell me about your time working with Psi League...”