After two hours, the four of us spilled out of the theater, our voices overlapping as we dove into an animated discussion about the movie.

Louvel was reenacting a dramatic scene with exaggerated gestures, while Temple was already nitpicking the plot holes. And Placid, predictably, had her arms crossed, ready to deliver a scathing critique—but despite herself, I could tell she’d actually enjoyed parts of it.

She just wouldn’t admit it.

"That interrogation scene though," Louvel said, gesturing with his empty popcorn container. "When the detective realized his own daughter was the original shapeshifter?”

"Please," Placid scoffed, though I noticed she seemed less irritated than when we'd entered. "It was so obvious from the locket scene. Who keeps touching their hand every time they lie? Amateur writing."

Temple tossed her cup into a nearby recycling bin. "What about that twist with the maintenance worker? I didn't see that coming at all. He seemed so insignificant in the beginning."

Louvel nodded vigorously, his face lit with excitement. "Right?! I swore he was just background filler. Then, bam—he’s been orchestrating things the whole time."

I shrugged, hands in my pockets. "But did anyone else pay attention to the back alleys during the chase scene?"

Temple turned to me, genuinely surprised. "I was too focused on the main action. What did you see?"

"The dead wife’s sister." I explained as we pushed through the exit doors into the evening air. "The graffiti showed she'd been tracking the shapeshifters for years. All those symbols we kept seeing weren't just background decoration."

Placid tried to hide her interest but couldn't quite manage it. "Is that why there were all those butterfly motifs? I thought they were just being pretentious."

"That rooftop scene hit different when you realize she was probably watching the whole time," Louvel mused. "No wonder the detective kept looking over his shoulder."

Just as we were walking out of the theater, a girl abruptly stopped right in front of us. She didn’t stumble. She didn’t hesitate. She just stood there, blocking our path in the middle of the exit, her stance deliberate. We all frowned, exchanging puzzled glances.

I blinked, taking in the unexpected sight.

She couldn’t have been more than sixteen, her school uniform still crisp despite the late hour—too pristine for someone who had been out for long. Her wired earphones dangled from her ears, a curious anachronism in current times.

But what really stood out?

The black cat at her feet. It wound between her ankles, its sleek body moving with eerie grace. Its green eyes locked onto our group, unwavering, almost too intelligent—like it was studying us. A strange sense of unease prickled at the back of my mind.

“Who are you?” Placid asked, her voice already laced with irritation.

She was clearly not in the mood for whatever this was. The girl didn’t flinch at Placid’s harsh tone. Instead, she raised a hand and pointed directly at me.

"I need your help," she said, her tone flat.

I blinked.

“…Me?” I asked, lifting a hand to point at myself, just to make sure I wasn’t mishearing things. My tone was half incredulous, half annoyed.

The girl shook her head once, unwavering.

"You."

No hesitation. No elaboration.

I glanced at the others. Louvel raised an eyebrow, intrigued. Temple frowned, shifting his weight slightly. Placid, still irritated, looked ready to dismiss the whole thing. But the girl didn’t move. And neither did her cat, which still stared at me like it knew something I didn’t.

Something in my gut told me this wasn’t random.

“…Okay,” I said cautiously, studying her for any sign of deception. “Let’s talk somewhere less… public.”

I gestured toward a nearby café across the street. If we were going to deal with whatever this was, at least we could do it over caffeine. The girl nodded once, stepping aside without argument.

Her cat?

It followed—without a sound.

I mean, from the day I’d started the third cycle, I’d figured out one absolute truth—

Trouble always found me.

It didn’t matter where I went or how much I tried to avoid it. It had a way of sniffing me out, like some cosmic force had decided I was its favorite chew toy. But this? Dropping a random girl with a cryptic request for help right in front of me like we were in some low-budget detective noir?

Yeah. This was absurd.

This wasn’t some fairy tale with knights and noble quests. This was real life—or at least a superhero’s version of it—and there were dangerous people everywhere. Who the hell was I to help someone? And what exactly did she expect me to do?

I wasn’t a saint.

As we entered the café, the girl followed without a word, her black cat trailing behind like a silent shadow. We settled at a table in the back, away from prying eyes. She slid into the seat across from me, her cat hopping onto the table like it owned the place, curling up into a neat, imperious ball. I stared at it for a second. Then at her. She didn’t blink, didn’t flinch, didn’t even seem remotely fazed by how strange this situation was. I sighed, flagging down the waiter and ordering a cold coffee—hoping it would help cool both my nerves and my irritation. Because, honestly? She’d already managed to ruin my day, and we hadn’t even gotten to the details yet.

I took a slow sip, exhaled, and finally met her gaze.

"Alright." I leaned forward slightly, keeping my tone calm but firm. "Let’s try this again. Who are you, and what exactly do you need help with?"

The sooner I got some answers, the sooner I could figure out how to handle this mess—or at least convince her she’d picked the wrong person. But she didn’t answer immediately. Her gaze flitted between Louvel, Temple, and Placid, who were seated around me, their expressions a mix of curiosity and confusion.

Her body language was painfully clear—

She wasn’t going to speak as long as they were here. I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose before waving them off.

“Go sit somewhere else for a bit,” I muttered, gesturing to a nearby table.

They exchanged skeptical glances.

"Ooh, private meeting? Should we be jealous?"

Placid rolled her eyes dramatically, Louvel shrugged, and Temple just nodded before following the others.

As they finally relocated, I turned back to the girl.

"Okay. Now talk."

"My name is Vesper," she said curtly, her tone flat and devoid of any real interest.

Then she fell silent again, sitting there like she couldn’t care less about the world—or the fact that she’d just completely upended my day. I sighed, already regretting every decision that led me to this moment.

"Okay," I said, rolling my eyes. "What.do.you.want?"

I leaned back in my chair, my tolerance meter already running low. But then a thought hit me—a very serious one. I straightened slightly, raising a hand like I was swearing an oath.

"Just so we’re clear," I added, voice deadpan, "if you’re here because you think I’m your lost dad, family or something, I don’t know your mom. Let’s get that out of the way right now."

Vesper’s entire face twisted in pure disgust, like I had just said the most vile, repulsive, nightmare-inducing thing imaginable.

"Ugh, creepy," she groaned, physically recoiling like I had personally ruined her life.

Then—like nothing had happened—she casually sipped her cold coffee. The one I paid for. I squinted at her. Had I ever mentioned how much I hated dealing with school kids? They were an entirely different breed—snotty, dramatic, and always convinced their problems were the center of the universe. And sure, sometimes they were. But why so much attitude? It’s not like I invited her here. Yet here she was, acting like I was the inconvenience in this situation.

I took a slow breath, internally questioning my life choices, before my mind wandered elsewhere.

Had Jade been this insufferable at her age?

Probably not.

Jade was a lot of things—dangerous, unpredictable, stubborn as hell—but intolerable wasn’t one of them. She was also super cute and pretty.

And personally? Cute people were good.

That was a fact.

I almost smiled at the thought, but Vesper shifted, drawing my attention back to reality.

She adjusted her pristine uniform, her other hand resting casually on the black cat that had made itself comfortable, sprawled out across the table like it owned the damn place.

"There are people trying to kidnap me," she said casually, like she was discussing the weather.

I blinked.

"Hmm?" I raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to elaborate.

But she didn’t. She just sat there, sipping her coffee like she hadn’t just dropped a bombshell into the conversation. Why was she slowly? Though, the statement didn’t spark much in me. Not because I didn’t believe her—but because I wasn’t a savior. And I had zero interest in playing one. If she was expecting me to swoop in and solve her problems, she was barking up the wrong tree. For all I knew, she had already developed her meta nature, and that wasn’t something I wanted to get tangled up in.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

"Go to the police, the City Protectors, or one of the heroes." I waved a hand dismissively. "Just tag them on social media or something. I’m sure one of them would love to help—it’d make for great PR."

Vesper shook her head immediately, her expression unchanging.

"They won’t be of help." She was firm. Certain.

I leaned back in my chair, unimpressed. "How do you know? Have you even tried?"

She paused, her hand stilling on the black cat’s head. For the first time, something shifted in her expression. Not fear. Not doubt. Certainty.

"Because my meta nature tells me so."

Ah. Of course.

I exhaled, running a hand down my face.

"Of course it does," I muttered.

"And what else does your meta nature tell you?" My tone was flat, bordering on bored, but I couldn’t stop myself from asking.

“It helped me find you,” Vesper blue eyes met mine. Her voice was quiet but carried a strange certainty. “Someone who could help.”

Her words made me sit up straight, an involuntary reaction to the sheer certainty in her tone.

Trouble had found me again, whether I liked it or not.

And this time?

"Well," I said, leaning back slightly, keeping my tone neutral, "I’m sorry for whatever’s happening to you. You’re young, probably scared, and don’t know what to do. But that’s what your parents are there for—to help you. You can’t just come to a stranger and expect them to fix your problems."

I raised a hand, gesturing vaguely in her direction.

"Talk to your parents, a school counselor, or someone actually equipped to handle this. I’m sure they’ll figure something out."

It was solid advice. Reasonable. But the moment the words left my mouth, Vesper’s expression again shifted. Her jaw tightened, her frustration radiating off her in waves.

"You're not listening," she snapped, her voice sharp enough to cut glass.

I blinked. "Whoa, calm down," I said, raising my hands in mock surrender. "No need to get worked up. Just explain what you want clearly, instead of going in circles and maybe I’ll consider hearing you out."

I glanced over at the others sitting nearby, wondering if they’d noticed the sudden spike in tension. But Vesper didn’t care who was watching. The black cat on the table let out a low, rumbling purr.

I squinted at it.

Was it... judging me?

Before I could fully process that bizarre thought, Vesper took another deep breath,“I think....these people… they’re not just trying to kidnap me. I think their real goal is to use my meta nature for something.”

That got my attention.

I exhaled through my nose, my skepticism still intact, but my curiosity now officially engaged.

“Use your meta nature?” I guessed.

Vesper nodded once, her fingers absently trailing over the cat’s fur.

"I can locate people, objects, or places based on what I emotionally or physically need the most at that moment."

I frowned, leaning forward slightly, “So, you’re saying your meta nature lets you find anything you need—like a built-in GPS?”

My tone was skeptical, but the idea itself? That was… interesting.

"That’s… convenient."

Vesper gave me a flat stare. “It’s also a nightmare.”

"It works like a connection," Vesper explained, "Emotional, physical—whatever I need most, my meta nature locks onto it."

I frowned, tapping the rim of my coffee cup, turning over her words in my head, "So, these people chasing you—they want to use you to find something? Something they can’t find themselves?"

She nodded, “Though, I don’t know what they’re after.”

I let out a slow breath, leaning back in my chair. "And you think I can help you because your meta nature brought you here?"

"Yes," she said simply. "You’re the one I need to stop them."

I took a another good look at her. Then let out a dry, skeptical laugh.

"Right." I dragged the word out.

Wow, North. You’re really collecting all the strays these days, huh? First, the main character syndrome guy, now this one. What’s next? A magical dog? A talking raven? A mysterious child with forgotten royalty status? I let out a self-deprecating chuckle, shaking my head at my ever-growing list of bizarre encounters. I pondered a possible solution to get out of this unwanted situation, and after a beat, I looked back up, “Alright, but if these people are so dangerous and determined to catch you, how haven’t they succeeded yet?”

I watched her carefully. "Have they even attacked you? Because, sitting here like this, talking safely—it almost sounds like it could just be... I don’t know, a delusion."

Vesper grip on the black cat immediately tightened, its tail flicking in mild protest at the sudden pressure. “It’s not a delusion,” she said firmly, “I know what I’ve felt. There are eyes on me—always. When I’m in public, I can feel them watching. Every move, every step I take. It’s like a constant shadow.”

I studied her words, my skepticism still lingering, but something about the way she spoke—the absolute certainty in her voice—made it harder to dismiss outright.

Still, there was something off.

If her ability was as powerful as she claimed, then—

"And you’ve tried to locate them?" I asked, arching an eyebrow. "You should be able to find whoever’s doing it with your meta nature, right?"

Vesper’s lips pressed into a thin line.

“I have,” she admitted, her voice dropping to a whisper. “But whoever’s tracking me... they’re using something—some hidden meta ability to stay out of my reach. They’ve masked their presence completely. It’s like trying to see through a mirror that only shows what you want to see. But I know they’re there. Even now.”

I immediately sat straight, squinting, as I shifted my perception to scan the Likeness of my surroundings.

The café suddenly felt too quiet.

The air—too still.

My gaze flicked around the room, searching for anything out of place.

The barista behind the counter was busy making drinks, the hiss of the espresso machine breaking. A group of teenagers near the door were laughing over their phones, oblivious to anything outside their bubble. Louvel, Temple, and Placid were still at the nearby table, chatting casually and occasionally casting glances their way.

Nothing seemed unusual.

And yet...

My gaze flicked to the windows, then to the corners of the room where shadows pooled.

“You’re sure?” I asked, “Right now, you feel it?”

Vesper didn’t answer immediately. She waited as if searching for something. Then, finally, she shook her head, "Nothing since we entered the coffee shop."

I tried to piece together her explanation. Something about it bothered me. But at the same time… It aligned with what my perception was telling me. Glancing around again, I read the Likeness of our surroundings. The results were unchanged—No immediate danger. No unseen threats lurking nearby. Whatever she was dealing with, it wasn’t something that was about to pounce on us here and now.

As for Vesper herself, her Likeness didn’t reveal anything obviously threatening either. There was no ominous glow or foreboding aura that suggested her life was in immediate peril. But the future? That was always murky, and I couldn’t discern what lay ahead for her.

Still, her Likeness was fascinating in its own way.

It appeared as an ancient-looking compass, intricate and weathered, with two needles. One needle pointed in a direction I assumed was tied to her desires, something she was actively pursuing. The other, however, was aimed directly at me. That was the part that unsettled me. It seemed to suggest I was what she needed in this moment—though I couldn’t say for sure if I was interpreting it correctly. I examined the compass carefully, trying to glean more meaning from the way the two needles moved. But the more I looked, the more questions I had. Why me? Why now? Her situation wasn’t adding up

I finally let out a deep sigh—the kind that came from a mix of exhaustion and resignation.

"Let’s just say, for argument’s sake, that whatever you’re facing is real right now."

"FYI, it’s real," Vesper cut in immediately, her voice matter-of-fact.

I resisted the very strong urge to roll my eyes.

What an ungrateful brat. My patience was hanging by a thread, but being the magnanimous, vastly more experienced, and all-around mature person that I was, I pushed on.

"Alright then," I said, keeping my calm but definitely irritated, "what, exactly, makes you think I’m the person to deal with… whatever this is?"

I gestured at myself for emphasis, like her answer couldn’t possibly justify this nonsense. "Do I look like a hero to you?"

Her response—or lack thereof—was going to decide whether I walked out of this café or stayed to entertain her increasingly bizarre demands.

"I don’t know what you look like to anyone else," she said, "but to me, you’re someone who can help. Whether you believe it or not."

Then, with absolute certainty, she added—

"I believe that because my meta nature has been wrong, like, never."

I let out another sigh, rubbing the back of my neck.

"Alright," I said finally. "Let’s say I believe you. What’s the plan? Do you even have one?"

She shrugged, sinking a little in her seat as flash of embarrassment and annoyance flickered across her face. She looked like she wanted to say something but didn’t. As much as my heart was screaming at me to stand up and walk away from the table, my mind wouldn’t let me. I couldn’t figure out why, but something kept me rooted to my seat.

Another resigned sigh escaped me. It wasn’t like I didn’t have enough on my plate already.

Between the group and me, we still had the big villain gang to track down—a task that was already draining—and now this? It was exhausting. And yet, Vesper was being as stubborn as a mule, refusing to go to the City Protectors or contact any heroes. She was acting like nothing more than a reckless teenager, but maybe—just maybe—she had her reasons. My irritation flared again, and for a brief moment, I entertained the idea of calling the authorities on her behalf.

But I quickly shook my head. That would just complicate things, and something about her desperation hinted at a reason she wasn’t sharing.

With no other options left, I decided on the next best thing: calling Henry. If anyone could handle this mess—or at least give me some help—it was him. I pulled out my phone and dialed his number. He picked up after a few rings.

“Henry,” I said as soon as the line connected. “Where are you?”

“At Caleb’s house,” he replied, his voice a mix of focus and fatigue. “Gina and I are scanning and searching through the underground train stations of the city. It’s a huge task. In the last three hours, we’ve barely covered seven percent of the deep search, even with the AI and mapping tools.”

“Great,” I muttered under my breath, rubbing my temples. “I’ve got a situation over here, too.”

“Fantastic,” Henry replied dryly. “What kind of situation?”

I glanced back at Vesper, who was now focused on her cat again.

"The kind that just walked in and decided to make me its problem," I muttered. "I’ll explain when I get there. Just keep me updated on your search."

Ending the call, I shoved my phone back into my pocket and turned to Vesper, leaning forward slightly.

"Alright, Vesper," I said, tone resigned. "Are you free right now?"

She blinked, then tilted her head slightly, like she was considering the question on a cosmic level.

"Well…" she began, still idly rubbing the cat’s head. "My parents want me home by six."

I glanced at my phone. 5:00 PM.

"We’ve still got an hour," I noted, looking back at her. "What about traveling with strangers? Do your parents have any rules about that, too?"

Vesper looked mildly annoyed. "What do you want from me?"

"I have a friend who might come in handy," I explained. "He’s busy right now, so we’ll need to visit him. Are you comfortable with that?"

She stared at me for a long moment. Then, finally, she sighed. "Fine."

I stood up and stretched slightly.

"Great. Let’s go before your parents send a search party."

Vesper rolled her eyes but followed, the black cat hopping off the table to trail after her like a shadow.

Because of course it was coming too.