I stared at the flickering flame.

If Zee Captain's cryptic bullshit was to be believed, then as long as the flame burned, reality was slightly more malleable. How malleable exactly? This I would have to find out.

"Stats," I ordered mentally and my stats ignited over my hexagonal Lazarus bracelet.

| Name: Alexander Glock

| Age: 18

| Species & Subtype: Human

| Core Affinity: N/A

| Level: 0

| Anima: 89/89 [+89]

| Anima Stamina: 0.1/0.1

| Mana: 38/0

| Mana Regen: 0.0m/hr

| Strength: 0

| Agility: 0

| Dexterity: 0

| Vitality: 0

| Charisma: 0

| Magic: 0

| Foresight: 0

| Intelligence: 0

| Wisdom: 0

| Skills: N/A

The mana number suddenly began going up, numbers rushing upward as if someone had opened a floodgate. The rest of the stats went haywire too, flickering and bouncing between zeroes and null error variable messages flashing across my vision.

The bathroom lights flickered and then their glow intensified, growing painfully bright. A freaky rainbow shear rushed across the mirror, wards and runes around the bathroom lighting up and sparkling with brilliant flares. I quickly let go of the button and snapped the lighter shut, fearing that the ward, lights or the mirror might explode from mana overload.

Maybe I should do this outside or something.

I glanced back at my mana.

[401/0]

I whistled.

Progress! I had irradiated myself with excessive magrad and given myself mana. Also, possibly magic cancer. But on the plus side, now I could actually do magic.

Maybe.

I squinted at the the mana stat as it shifted again.

[400.97/0]

Ah. My body was slowly losing the magical charge provided by the lighter. Interesting.

"Alert," Yulia's voice whispered in my ear. "Pack-cam has detected movement. Cassiopeia Nova is currently examining the contents of your bag."

I froze, the lighter still warm in my palm. "Show me," I whispered in Kaska, pulling out my phone.

Through Yulia's hidden camera feed, I watched as Cinder dug through my bag, her feathers shifting through curious violets and concerned oranges as she dug the pattern that produced Alexander Glock and others, pulling out my tools, phones, documents, paints, wigs and etc.

My heart clenched as she found the leather pouch - mom's last letter, the photos, everything I had left of my real life.

Part of me wanted to burst out there and stop her. But... maybe this was better.

Let her see the truth, unfiltered and raw. No carefully crafted lies or manipulated narratives - just the painful reality of who I really was.

I watched as Cinder's wings ignited with rainbows as she read mom's last letter. When tears started falling from her ocean-blue eyes, I had to look away.

She understood. She now knew me deeper, more than anyone else in the entire universe.

I turned the video off and went into the shower.

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

After my shower, I quickly rinsed out my many hexasuits, put them on myself and then dressed in Lance's old clothes, including a lovely, plush white and blue pattern See-Mass sweater featuring Aztec-style art of Quetzis. The outfit was a bit loose but still serviceable, making me feel like I belonged to the family now.

Looking at my mana bar, I noted that the number had dropped to around 392. Still way more than any human should rightly have. The lighter provided me with magic; now I just had to figure out how to permanently hold mana in my body.

Sadly, according to Yulia, there were no references to this. Omnids didn't allow humans to go to Arx, nor had anyone bothered to publish publicly available research papers about humans leveling up in mana-rich places. Thus, I was perhaps the first human on Earth to have so much mana in my body.

Shelving my plans, I departed from my room heading across the long-as-f hallway to the West Wing.

As advertised, Cinder's door had a poster of a skeletal dragon breathing black fire, surrounded by gothic text that read "KEEP OUT OR DIE SCREAMING!" Several other posters surrounded the door, featuring various metal bands - names like "Deathstorm Mothmen" and "The Crimson State Lindwurms" alongside artwork of monsters and fire.

I knocked softly. "Hey Ci, you decent?"

"Go away," came the muffled response.

"Who's your favorite mixie in the universe?" I asked.

"What kind of stupid question is that?" her voice came through the door.

"Just checking if you're the door-hex or the real Cinder," I grinned. "Breakfast?"

"I'm not coming to breakfast," Cinder's real voice came through the door, sounding strained. "Just... go away."

"Mmmmm... No," I sat against the door. "Two options then. Either I open this door with a card and invade your room or I declare a hunger strike and sit here against this door until I waste away into a skeleton. Pick one. You have ten seconds to decide. Nine."

Silence.

"Eight. Seven. Six..."

"You wouldn't," Cinder growled through the door.

"Five. Four. I'm pretty good at going without food and invading rooms. Three. Two..."

The door opened suddenly, causing me to fall backward into her room with a yelp. I found myself staring up at an upside-down Cinder.

"Sup?"

I noticed that she was wearing a fluffy white robe and had no makeup on whatsoever. Her ocean-blue eyes were red and puffy from crying, and her feathers were shifting through mournful dark blues and guilty blacks.

"Get up," she muttered, turning away quickly. "And close the door before mom sees."

I rolled a bit off to the side and closed the door with my foot, taking in her room from my floor position. It was exactly what I expected - dark violet walls, blackout curtains, and more metal band posters. Strings of red and purple See-Mass lights cast an eerie glow along with a couple of Kitlix lanterns over the bed. A guitar stood in one corner next to a violin case and a magic amp.

The heavy wooden furniture was only somewhat fancier than the stuff in the guest bedroom.

A large desk was covered in sheet music and school books, while the pin-on panel above it featured photographs of the Dreadful Delvers.

"Room is very you," I commented from my floor position. "8.72/10 Goth Gf aesthetic."

"Why are you here?" Cinder asked quietly, not looking at me.

"I dunno." I shrugged. "Why are you here? Are we skipping breakfast and... what class do we even have? Yulia?"

"Double period. Delving theory and practice with Instructor Zalimar Evernacht," Yulia answered from the phone my pocket.

"Of course," Cinder muttered. "Just what I need today on top of everything - Em murdering us both on Arx!"

"I can beat Em in my sleep with both arms tied behind my back. Arx delving sounds fun," I let out, still sprawled on her floor. "I've never been on a proper delve before. Do we get to fight monsters? Explore ruins? Find treasure? Make out in a dungeon?"

This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

"Would you be serious for once?!" she snapped.

"A joke a day keeps depression away," I half-grinned. "Would you prefer me to mope on your floor and have a cry about everything terrible in my life instead? 'Cus I can absolutely do that."

"Arghh... staaaph," Cinder sighed, slumping onto her bed. "I can't deal with... whatever this is right now."

"Whatever what is?" I asked from the floor. "Your best friend trying to kill me? The troupe falling apart? Your family being wonderfully supportive and loving? A questionable human invading your house?"

"Everything, damn it!" Cinder burst out, her wings flaring with frustrated reds. "The troupe, Em, my parents suddenly thinking you're the second coming of Slayer Nazareth, you somehow getting permission to LIVE here..."

"And?" I prompted. "I simply did what my lady commanded. You wished me to inhabit this residence so that is what I have organized. You think I want to be here, across a few walls from Judge Dread? I'm here because of you, Ci. Open your eyes."

"I..." Cinder let out a deep sigh. "I've been through this before."

"Been through what?"

"This!" She gestured between us. "Someone getting... addicted to my wings, my voice. Thinking they're in love with me when they're just... enthralled by my Charmchain skill!"

"I am occasionally enthralled by you," I said. "I can't argue with that. But if you simply want my non-enthralled opinion, just burrito yourself in a thick blanket. Works like a charm. Well, opposite of a charm since it blocks yo charmin' wings. Do you want me to creatively insult you to prove that I'm not actually addicted to you or something? Do you want me to ignore you for a couple of months? What's it gonna take for you to stop being Miss grumpysaurus?"

"I don't want you to do anything!" Cinder snapped. "That's the whole point! I don't want you changing your entire life around because of me or falling in love with me or obsessing over me! I don't want you lying to my parents or making deals with interdimensional entities or... or..."

"Or what?" I asked, finally sitting up. "Or caring about you as a friend? Is that what this is really about?"

"You don't even know me!" she burst out. "Not really! You've known me for what, three days? And suddenly you're infiltrating my family, manipulating my parents, fighting my battles..."

"Four days," I commented. "We met on Tuesday when you jumped off the beam, it's Friday now."

"Okay, four days, whatever Mr. Smartass!" She snarled.

"Look. I know enough to make educated guesses," I said quietly. "I know you're trapped. Stuck between what your parents want you to be and what Em wants you to be. I know you love music but hate performing. I know you're scared of your own power, your own voice. I know you're carrying some heavy guilt about something that happened two years ago - something bad enough that you let Em reshape you into what she wanted you to be - her obedient, little kobold. As was her nature as a dragon. But you're not a kobold, Ci. You're a dragon yourself."

"I'm..." Cinder started.

"You're a Quetzalcoatl," I said as she fell silent. "A feathered serpent deity. One of the most powerful Charisma-aligned Omnids that ruled Mesoamerican humanity for centuries. But you let Em convince you that you needed her to be strong. That you needed her troupe, her rules, her way of doing things."

"You don't understand..." Cinder lamented.

"I understand perfectly," I said, finally sitting up. "Em was there for you when you needed someone. She gave you a new identity, a purpose, a place to belong. But she also trapped you, didn't she? Made you dependent on her approval, her validation. I can see it, the invisible chains wrapped around your soul. And every day, every week, every year... they've only gotten tighter. You have to spread your wings and break them. It's the only choice. Otherwise..."

She looked at me.

"You'll keep spiraling down until there's nothing left of you but what other people want you to be," I finished.

"And what about what you want me to be?" She let out.

"I want you to be you," I said simply. "Not Em's pet Bard, not your parents' perfect daughter, not my... whatever you think I want. Just you. Free and without whatever these dark chains are. The real Cassiopeia Nova, whoever she is under all these layers of other people's expectations."

Cinder stared at me.

"I honestly don't need to adjust you to my expectations," I said. "I already have Yulia for that - I can adjust her to speak any language, to be anything or anyone. LLM-type AIs... are just stories that we write them to be. But you... you have a soul and passion and needs as a living individual!"

"I don't even know who that is anymore," she whispered, more tears sparking at the edges of her eyes.

"Then let's find out," I offered my hand. "Together. No pressure, no expectations. Just... exploration. Discovery. Maybe even some breakfast, because I'm actually starving and your mom's cooking smells amazing."

"You... Seem so harmless but you're actually terrifying," Cinder said, staring at my offered hand. "The way you just... see through everything. I don't even know who you really are. I don't know where your lies begin or end."

"I don't spot everything myself," I said. "Yulia is my second set of eyes. Without her, I probably wouldn't even notice how much you're hurting, Ci."

Cinder blinked more tears, shuddering and wiping her face with the sleeve of her robe.

"Listen, if you want to buy the truth, then you gotta pay the price," I sat on the bed next to her.

She shifted uncomfortably, her tail twitching. "What... what kind of price?"

"A secret for a secret," I said. "You tell me what happened two years ago that made you let Em reshape you, and I'll tell you anything you want to know about me. The real me. No lies, no misdirection, just... truth."

Cinder's wings and tail shifted through uncertain purples and anxious oranges. "I... I can't."

"Can't or won't?" I asked gently.

"Both," she whispered, wrapping her wings around herself. "It's... it's too much. Too dark. Too..."

"Fine, if you don't wanna dig into your dark and broody past, Mister Batman... Then, let's make a cringe memory instead to pay the price!"

"What? Why? How?"

"Come here and hug me and make a really dumb face for the camera," I grinned, holding out my phone. "I'll make a dumb face, too, so that you're not sacrificing yourself to the altar of devastating cringe alone."

Cinder stared at me like I'd grown a second head. "You want me to... what?"

"Scooch over here and make the dumbest face you can possibly manage."

"This is stupid," she muttered, but slowly edged closer.

"Exactly!" I beamed, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "Now, on three, make the most ridiculous face you can. One... two..."

On three, I crossed my eyes, puffed out my cheeks, and stuck out my tongue. Cinder, after a moment's hesitation, scrunched up her nose and went cross-eyed, her feathers shifting through violet-pinks despite herself.

CLICK!

"There!" I declared triumphantly, showing her the photo and sending it to her on Omnigram. "Perfect balance achieved!"

Cinder stared at the photo, a reluctant smile tugging at her lips. "We look like complete idiots."

"That's the point!" I grinned. "Can't take yourself too seriously when there's photographic evidence of you looking like a derpy rainbow chicken."

"I do NOT look like a chicken!"

"Look at us, we look like we're having a stroke. I'm setting this for your chat background. Heh heh heh."

Cinder stared at the photo, her embarrassment warring with amusement. "Oh my god, no, delete that! I look ridiculous!"

"Nu-huh," I grinned. "This is my new favorite picture ever. I'm going to treasure it forever. I'll have it engraved on my gravestone."

"Delete it!" Cinder made a grab for my phone.

"Never!" I held it out of reach. "This is art! This belongs in a museum!"

"Give me that phone!" She lunged for it, tackling me onto the bed.

We wrestled for the phone, both laughing now. Her wings flared with playful colors as she tried to pin me down and grab the device.

"Children!" Lady Nova's voice called from downstairs dancing with perfect clarity around the room. "Breakfast is getting cold!"

We froze, suddenly aware of our position - Cinder straddling me on her bed, both of us disheveled and breathless from laughing.

I didn't let her escape, rolling us both sideways across the bed with the power of all of my hexasuits, until I was above her. Then I shoved her down, digging into her wrists. I leaned towards her ear.

"My name is Martin Kilborne," I whispered. "Now you know my dark and terrible secret. Never utter it again or I will send that pic of you to everyone you know."

I released her.

"I... I already knew," she admitted quietly.

"I knew that you knew," I shot back. "There's a webcam inside my bag. I have tricked you into taking a very derp photo. Mwa ha ha."

"WHAT?!" She rounded on me with a growl of white fangs, her wings flaring with indignant reds and angry oranges, feathered tail lashing, snout stretching to reveal extra teeth. "You cheeky, little..."

I immediately jumped away, making a scared face. I shifted my posture, shoulders slumping, eyes down, making myself look smaller - the perfect picture of smol, vulnerable prey.

That's it. Take the bait, predator.

Cinder's Omnid instincts kicked in exactly as expected. Her wings spread wide, feathers shifting through hunting purples and aggressive reds as she launched herself off the bed with deadly grace to tackle me.

I waited until the last possible second, then exploded into motion. Seventeen hexasuits activated in perfect sync as I pushed off the floor, leaping sideways out of the way in a practiced parkour move. Cinder's momentum carried her straight into the walk-in closet, and I kicked the door shut behind her with a satisfying click.

"Got you!" I declared triumphantly, bracing my foot against the door as she rattled the handle. "Now, if you want to chase me down to give me a well-deserved smack, you have to actually get dressed first."

"YOU!" Angry Quetzi noises emerged from the closet door.

"The bath robe is cute and all but its not very aerodynamic," I commented. "Flaps in the wind and whatnot."

"I'm going to murder you!" She threatened, but I could hear hangers being violently moved around inside the closet.

"Promises, promises," I sang. "But first - clothes! Unless you want to chase me through the house in your fluffy bathrobe and accidentally flash me or your brother?"

"ARGH!" More angry hanger-rattling. "Just you wait!"

"I'll be downstairs having pancakes," I called through the door. "Try to wear something that matches your murderous intent!"

I heard what sounded like a shoe hitting the door as I made my retreat.

The hallway was empty as I headed downstairs, following the smell of breakfast. Lady Nova was humming to herself in the kitchen, her feathers shifting through happy pinks as she flipped pancakes.

"So," she beamed as I entered. "Did you manage to convince Cassie to join us?"

"She's getting dressed," I replied with a polite smile. "I believe she'll be down shortly."

Lance was already at the table, demolishing a stack of pancakes with impressive efficiency. Lenora sat beside him, carefully cutting her pancakes into precise triangles while chattering about her VR games and stuffed animals' latest tea party drama.

"Mr. Snuggles was being very rude," she informed me seriously as I sat down. "He wouldn't share his crumpets with Lady Whiskertons at all!"

"How scandalous," I replied with equal seriousness. "Perhaps Mr. Snuggles needs lessons in proper tea party etiquette."

"That's what I said!" Lenora nodded vigorously, her black fur ruffling. "But then he got into a fight with Sir Pawington over the last scone and knocked over the tea set!"

"Sounds like quite the social disaster," I commented, accepting a plate of pancakes from Lady Nova. "Thank you, ma'am. These look amazing."

"OH!" Lenora's yellow eyes suddenly lit up. "Are you gonna be Cassie's boyfriend? 'Cus she needs one really bad. She's super grumpy all the time!"

Lance choked on his pancakes.

"Lenoralynne!" Lady Nova scolded, her feathers shifting through embarrassed pinks. "That's not an appropriate comment for breakfast!"

"But mooooom," Lenora whined. "She's always so mean and angry! Maybe if she had a boyfriend she'd stop being such a..." She made air quotes with her black slender finger-paws, "Raging dumpster fire of..."

"LENY!" Lady Nova's feathers bristled with shock. "Language!"

"Sorry... not sorry," Lenora huffed, whispering the last bit out of her Hearth-mom's earshot.