As soon as the darkness of the Organization was behind us, and the light blue of the basement flooded my vision, anger quickly elbowed relief out of the way and grabbed ahold of the reins. It was unlike anything I had felt before - and I was no stranger to outbursts of emotion. I saw it as a threat, even greater and more insidious than that of the ploy to kill Pearl. I was half tempted to storm back into the portal and turn the Organization to dust.

“You’re pacing, Eric.” Rodney wrinkled up his face as he sat in the recliner by the window.

I had been. As if my constant locomotion would take me to an answer that solved the problem. It was somewhere out there, and I had enough roiling magma within to power me for eons.

[I understand.]

Wight stood in front of me, and I exhaled deeply. The pause in my blazing path was enough to vent the steam building up. Perhaps he was right; I should take this a little better. I withdrew the phone from my pocket and attempted to grasp at it as Wight spun it by reflex.

Family meeting

Family? I shook my head as I pinged it off to Pearl. It was technically correct, yet as far as the truth could reliably stretch.

Almost immediately, a pink flash illuminated the room as the demon stepped forth in a dark gray pantsuit, her white hair up and matching the blouse she wore beneath the jacket. The thoughts that she was murdering her way to getting us a new house became some slight realization that there were probably demonic realtors that sold houses to… distracted, Eric.

“What’s happened? Everything okay?” Her brow furrowed, but she was mostly checking me over to make sure that I was still in one piece.

“The Org wants Rodney to have a patron.” I could feel my face tensing up at just the thought.

“Really? But he’s not - no offense, Rodney - he’s not… like you.”

Rodney waved her off as he dug through his backpack. “None taken.”

There must be more to it that I currently didn’t understand. Hunters were chosen because they were at the end and had nothing to lose. They were broken people given purpose. As a Blank, Rodney already had a role and would last as long as an ice cube in the depths of the Lowers.

“They’ve sent me a load of information.” He tapped at his viewing device. “Give me a while to read it all, then we’ll see.”

I sighed, and the volcano became dormant. “Fine.” I walked to sit at the dining table and slumped down. Wight drew a chair out to sit opposite, and Pearl moved one around to sit at the end beside me. Her hand rested on my head as I lay across the smooth varnish of the table. Nice and cool.

“You went to the Hells, huh?” Her finger tapped against my skull. “Thought I wouldn’t know?”

I just exhaled and closed my eyes.

[It went better than expected, although I think you should update the Pearl on everything.]

Oh, of course - it was quite an eventful trip, even though I had returned relatively unscathed.

“Is this another case of world-ending drama and ridiculous circumstance?” She put some pressure on my head playfully, as if to squeeze out the answers.

With a smile, I relented to sitting back up straight. “We took a trip to one of those skull-demon temples.”

“Uh-huh, they can be tough, but go on.”

“We killed them all pretty easy, right?” I raised my eyebrows at the bird-demon, making sure I wasn’t over-selling my competency.

[Eric is currently performing a Level or two over expectations.]

I nodded, picking up her sly smile in my peripheral. A little ego boost wasn’t the worst thing. “Then we broke the blue-juice skull thing.”

“Their Ascencion Focus,” Pearl said as she nodded, slightly perturbed at my flagrant simplification of everything relating to the Hells.

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

“But then, guess who shows up? The Watcher.” I raised my hands to add some dramatic flair to the reveal.

[You didn’t even leave the Pearl time to guess.]

Wight folded his arms as Pearl tilted her head.

“What did he want this time?”

“To kill me. Did the whole appear from behind something and touch me trick, like we were expecting.” My hands idly tapped at the table. I should have made a coffee; this would have been an appropriate time to slowly take a sip.

She narrowed her eyes at me. “Then what happened? Clearly, you still live. Don’t blueball me, Eric Redd.”

I smiled and wagged my eyebrows at her. “Oh, it was easy, really. Just as the sniper beam struck me, I activated a latent ability given by the Rat God that absorbed the demonic energy. Which I then turned into power for Last Light - which I believe is a divinely granted power.”

Her eyes narrowed further, and she pouted. “Bullshit.” She turned to Wight, and he recoiled slightly from her glare. “He is bullshitting, right?”

[No fecal matter whatsoever in his statement.]

“Of course,” I continued, allowing the bravado to cover over my simmering worry about Rodney. “Last Light froze the Watcher for a bit - it gave Wight a chance to suck some of his power out and… yeah, Wight - what really happened with that?”

[It was simply a power exchange. He is weaker now.]

“Are you stronger for it?”

[Hmm. Hard to say - the pact isn’t meant to allow me greater power, but in stealing some, I believe I have skirted the rules slightly.]

I smiled. That seemed pretty standard. They must have a whole department working around the clock to try to get the wording on Wight’s pact corrected so that he doesn’t keep overstepping. So far, it had worked out in my favor more often than not.

Pearl rubbed the bridge of her nose. “So, did the Org call you in because two Hunters having a spat is a problem?”

“Totally unrelated.” I took a moment to reconsider. “Maybe. They never really speak plainly, or make it obvious what they know or what they want. I was also pulled up on the whole croc-demon gang thing.”

“How’s that been working out?”

“Apparently,” a grin spread across my face, “they’ve been running amok in pigmen camps, almost got a Hunter caught up in the carnage.” Good ol’ Redd Death gang, had to love them.

She rolled her eyes, but I thought I could see a little bit of respect in those orbs of radiance. “That’ll go wrong eventually, right?”

[Undoubtedly.]

“Oh, Wight.” Pearl dug around the inside of her jacket. “I got these for you. Stole them, actually, because I’m evil as fuck, still.” Upon the table, she placed a plastic sleeve full of different colored markers.

[Oh! I am most grateful, the Pearl. I will retrieve some paper immediately.]

He hopped down off the chair and padded his way back towards the basement. Pearl pushed a hand out, and I reached out to hold it.

She shot me a warm smile. “Well, I’m glad you’re in one piece. The new ability didn’t harm you?”

“No. Apparently, I steamed a bit afterward, but no damage. I think it could have done… but I’m just too badass.”

“Yes, you are.” She narrowed her eyes at me and leaned forward for a kiss.

“Could you guys not.” Rodney sighed from the recliner. “Sorry - it’s your house and everything; this is just a lot to take in. I get real stressed when I'm focused.”

Pearl rolled her eyes but gave me a pat on the hand. “Coffee then, everyone?”

“Please,” the Blank said, shooting a brief apologetic glance toward the demon before focusing on his screen again. “A strong one.”

“Same,. I nodded. “One for Wight too.”

She stood with a smile and left for the kitchen just as my patron returned to the room, holding a bunch of papers in his clawed hands. It didn’t look like he had gotten the hang of ordering them neatly yet, and they spread out across the table as he slapped them down.

[I hope with the new colors, I can fully realize my vision.]

I stared at the pages, each with long lines varying in different directions. Some parallel, some intersecting. A couple of the pages seemed to join up as if there wasn’t enough room on just the single sheet. “Anything I can help with?”

He tilted his head to the side in thought.

[I would like to learn how to make a circle.]

Despite my lack of artistic talent - if you excluded painting the Hells with demonic blood - I was pretty sure I could manage a circle.

A few minutes later, as Pearl brought through the coffee, I was slightly less sure of myself. “Maybe I’m just not a good teacher,” I relented as Wight struggled to copy the various ovals I was trying to gaslight myself into calling circles.

“What seems to be the problem?” Pearl sat back down after handing Rodney his steaming mug.

[I wish to learn more, but I do not have the capacity.]

Wight looked dejected, his beak almost slack as if having given up wanting to be solidly formed. Part of me felt like there was something in his hidden memories that he was trying to put onto the page. A reflection of his true self? Warnings from beyond? The runes for a greater power or location in the Hells?

All I truly knew was he wanted to draw, and I wanted to support him in that. There was no need for any bigger plan than that. I already had enough problems in my life to crunch through with soft teeth. There was no use searching under rocks for grubs when there were pancakes in the kitchen. Or something like that.

“Oh,” some of my brain cells remembered that they had clocked in today. “I’m due my Promotion, right? What have you got for me, Wight?”

He gathered some of his papers together and tapped them against the table in an attempt to form a loose collection.

[Well, Eric. Time for your performance review.]

“Can I join in?” Pearl eagerly leaned forward.

Rodney groaned. “As long as it only relates to things in the field.”

I shrugged. The more the merrier. I had been considering what I wanted in the back of my mind. Something unlike most of my other abilities. Something to help launch us forward into our paths ahead.

Something remarkably cliche.