I laid it out right there on the table. Something that perhaps nobody had really thought - certainly, all eyes turned to me in interest. Not confusion, but intrigue. It was calming to admit to it as if all the ruminating over what could be offered or what I could be allowed was just overgrown shrubbery covering the street sign pointing to the obvious.

[That is a more abstract request than I had anticipated.]

Pearl tilted her head with a smirk across her face. “Sure that you don’t just want another ability that will ruin your body instead?”

[My abilities hardly do that. Often.]

“I think it’ll suit you, Eric.” Rodney turned his furrowed brow back to his tech, in reading of the patron details.

I sighed and slunk into the chair. “If it’s not something you can do, that’s fine.”

[There’s… I will need to speak with the Org on the matter.]

“Thanks, Wight.” I drummed my fingers on the coffee mug, still wondering if I would regret the request.

Pearl leaned forward into my view. “Detective skills, though?”

“Ah, come on.” I tried to slide further away from her. “One thing we’re always in short supply of is answers. How long can I just blow up Hell until something snuffs me out? The Org is pretty insistent I not be such a whirlwind of destruction if I want to go to the Mids.”

She smiled and gave me a light kick under the table. “I do think it’d be a good choice. I can already see you and Wight investigating some demonic hovel, noir as shit, uncovering a murder or who stole your pancakes.”

“Sweet pancakes. How could they take them?” I returned a grin to her and sat back up straight. “Just for my longevity and sanity, some soft skills would probably give me a break whilst still being able to do the job.”

She nodded and then gestured with her head. “Can I speak with you for a second?”

Of course she could. I followed her into the kitchen, and she pulled the door to behind her. She seemed pensive and tired, but walked up to me and wrapped her arms around me.

“I… need to go away for a little while.” She moved back to look into my eyes, her radiant orbs trying to read my face. “Maybe a week or so, I don’t know.”

“Why?” Panic briefly gripped at my insides. “Are you in danger?”

“No.” She shook her head and smiled sadly. “Someone in the Highs got wind that I had my eyes again. They want to make sure I am doing things ‘by the book.’”

“For a week?” That seemed like possibly forever, certainly after spending so much time with her in the last month.

“It’s a whole pomp and ceremony thing.” She sighed and rested her head against mine. “They go through the whole process all over again, just to remind everyone why they’re there, and what happened, blah, blah. It’s boring as shit, Eric.”

“Are we going to get in any trouble?” I was still trying to wrap my head around things - this was turning out to be quite the rollercoaster of a day.

“No. We haven’t done anything that is against the rules - but they’ll want to inspect the dagger, so I’ll have to take it back for a bit.”

For a few moments, we just stayed there, holding each other in silence.

“I’m sorry to drop this on such a bad day, Eric. I’ve already been summoned, but I’ll wait until Rodney’s decision is all sorted before going.”

“It’s fine.” It wasn’t exactly fine, but I wasn’t really one to argue against the demons that resided in the High Hells. Not unless I wanted to wake up dead. I had to play by their rules until I didn’t have to.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“Liar, you ass.” She kissed me and pulled away. “I just want you to promise to be… to stay alive. I know you’re going to get hurt and probably have a rough time, but Rodney and Wight can be trusted to look after you.”

I nodded.

“Promise me then!” She narrowed her eyes, but smiled.

“I promise, Pearl.”

There was another pause, where something hung between us. Our mouths were connected to our brains, but unwilling to cooperate. A weight was unsaid. I brought her in for another hug. This time, just sadness washed over me. It was just a week; I told myself. Maybe two. Think of the things I could get up to with the boys. Mostly bleeding and going insane - but there was a charm to that. I thought.

“Alright,” she gave me a pat on the back, “let’s see if we have any answers.”

If only. Answers were the fog in the distance that I couldn’t see because of the fog right in front of me. I had goals at one point, totally derailed by the brief holiday to something akin to happiness. With Pearl absent, I was free to be as noir as I wanted, kill all the demons I wanted, and make unimaginable deals with eldritch beings. I liked the way she rubbed her fingers along my temples, though - I would miss that.

We went back into the dining room, catching their glances in wonder at what we had been up to. One stiff drink of social panic at a time.

“Any luck, Rodney?” I raised an eyebrow and sat at the table, my coffee now mostly lukewarm.

“There’s… some good news?”

“Yeah? First time for everything, I guess.” I gave a wry smile to Pearl, but she averted her gaze. Wight had been drawing lines, now in five different colors - although many of them were just drawn atop each other, giving the appearance of being scrawled in black anyway.

“So…” Rodney stood with a sigh. “I’m terrible at group speaking, so bear with me.”

“And you were so smarmy and sarcastic when we first met.” I tilted my head with a smile.

“Defense mechanism, you were, uh, pretty…” the Blank rubbed the back of his neck. “No, sorry - I can’t think of a nice way of putting it.”

[Everything was terrible, even I was curt with Eric.]

I relented to their points and gave Rodney the floor. Certainly, I had been a mess. A little rough and grimy around the edges. Even Wight had been more aggressive and demanding. Familiarity hadn’t bred contempt, but friendship.

“Yeah. So I’ll give you the key points so that I can go back to panicking over my mortal existence. The Recon patrons don’t require a vessel to be jammed in my wrist. Which is nice - and it actually interfaces with my tech more than me, like a spirit in the tech.”

“Uh-huh." I nodded. "What advantages does it give?”

“Basically, it can give a… feel to certain dangers. So I can better just threat levels. Uh, it gives more detailed information on demon types, or if you meet a demon that is known to the Org, it can filter that information in.”

[It is like being connected to the Org database, then?]

“Sure, yeah. Except I get a spooky demon whispering in my ear. No offense.”

The two demons in the room shook their heads. I did, too, as I reckoned I was partly demon enough or just desperate for inclusion, with Pearl leaving increasingly soon.

I looked between them and gave the Blank a smile. “What do you think? What do you want, Rodney?”

He exhaled and sank back down into the recliner, turning it slightly to face us better. “What I wanted was to go join college for computer science or something. Not become whatever this is.”

[What Level are you, the Rodney?]

“Three.”

The bird-demon nodded at me, although I wasn’t sure what he was implying. Probably that Rodney would need to try to keep up with us if we were advancing, which seemed fair. I had completed plenty of Quests… well, maybe not plenty, but a decent amount of them without the use of his skills - but when he was there, it made a big difference.

If we were shooting for the Mids, then I didn’t want to leave him behind.

“Naturally, this is your choice,” I began, “and we will support you with whatever you want to do. Putting our friendship aside, I think we are a good team, and I’d like to continue that in the near future. I may have been furious at the Org for the suggestion of getting you a patron… but this seems pretty unintrusive and shouldn’t put you in much danger.”

Rodney rolled his tongue across his teeth. “Shit, Eric, have you been taking those poisoned meds again?” He grinned, a managed to elicit some amusement from the demons.

“Alright, laugh it up.” I rolled my eyes. “I survived an assassination attempt and playing with eldritch powers, but divines forbid that I speak from the heart.”

“You’re okay, Eric,” the Blank continued with his grin. “I’m kinda scared shitless about the prospect… but someone has to babysit you, huh?”

I shot a glance toward Pearl, and she gave me a glum smile.

“Yeah,” I said, “I feel like I’m going to need a lot of gluing back together soon.”

“Funny you should say that,” Rodney brought his viewing device back to his lap. “As the Org has also sent the next Quest over. Have you ever heard of a place called Depthmaw?”

I groaned. I hadn’t, but when they bothered to tell me the names, it never worked out.

[You will hate it, Eric.]

Hopefully, unrelated to whatever lay in store for us next, he held up a picture to show me. It looked like a very abstract man made of only straight lines, with bright red ones intersecting him and traveling off of the page.

[This is you, Eric. In Hell and not having a good time.]