Eight years ago:

“Shut up,” Petra said, holding my knee in a vice-like grip. “And hold still.”

We were in our apartment, and I couldn’t stop staring at the blood that had escaped the paper towels and reached the carpet. I had no idea how to get blood out of the carpet.

Petra poured more isopropyl alcohol on my shin. The bleeding had pretty much resided, but the alcohol was causing rivulets to run down my shin towards the waiting towels.

Petra had already rinsed the cuts once, to get as much dirt out as much as she could, and now came the alcohol.

Tears streamed down my face, but I forced myself not to say anything.

Petra placed the bottle on the floor, and then picked up tweezers. “There’s still gravel in there.”

“No, just…give me a minute. Petra—”

My words were cut off by a gasp of pain. Petra deftly pulled out a piece of rock that had buried itself mostly under my skin.

And then the next one, and the next.

“Stop, Petra!” I was seated on a chair in the living room, and Petra was kneeling next to me, holding my right leg tight. My left leg was free.

I kicked her in the stomach.

Petra grunted, and stared at me.

There were few things in the world as terrifying as Petra’s angry stare. It was a stare that hearkened back to even earlier childhood years, before mom’s cancer took over our lives. It was a stare that spoke of spiders under our pillows and tacks under our sheets.

I froze. “Sorry,” I said, my voice small.

Petra continued her work with the tweezers. It hurt more, this time, but I didn’t make a sound.

Justin just watched, silent, from the bedroom doorway.

***

It was the next night I found the letter under my pillow. A letter written in blood.

Jarek—

You, Justin, and mom are all I have. If you’re not going to be strong enough to take care of yourself, then at least be strong enough to let me take care of you.

-Petra.

The letter wasn’t just about the scrapes. Petra was feeling the pressure of taking care of the family. There was a reason I was hesitant every time Petra would make us dinner, or pack our lunches for school.

It was because Petra wasn’t nice. My whole childhood, every kindness had been a masked insult or threat. Until mom’s cancer changed our world.

After over a decade of being terrorized by Petra, I couldn’t relax around her. So I went to college on the other side of the states, rarely visiting Petra and Justin, even after graduation. Petra never asked for money, but I still sent Justin some, each month.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

I kept that overly dramatic note, buried in my LA apartment.

***

I was hovering over the water somewhere above Atlantic Ocean. Dawnbreaker was hovering just a few yards away from me, and Abelino was a safe distance away in the Aviaton.

In one hand, Dawnbreaker held a C-rank Mind Control Potion. In the other, she held Petra’s letter.

It was as blatant of a message as Petra could communicate, without saying anything, without being here.

Did I like Petra?

No.

Did I trust Petra to watch my back?

Absolutely.

Samantha had messed with my senses before—she had basically reconstructed my vision against the Sandman, and she had edited my own status window to show the “Don’t Mind Me” skill.

So, the Mind Control Potion was probably something else—something from Petra, that Samantha didn’t want me to see.

“I won’t fight you,” I said, out loud. “But—”

That was as far as I got.

I was suddenly diving under water, and I was acutely aware that I was no longer in control of my body.

It was like in the Infinite Tower, when Samantha had control of my body.

As she swam, Samantha placed Time Dilation Wards behind us, presumably to slow Dawnbreaker’s approach.

Samantha was doing something with my aura, as well—pulsing it somehow—and I could tell that it was attracting all of the nearby monsters.

No matter how I tried, I couldn’t move any part of my own body.

Samantha? Why are you doing this? Talk to me!

There was no response.

We were descending incredibly quickly, and I could feel the pressure build in my eardrums. Streams of silver from Dawnbreaker’s unisuit darted towards us, but Samantha perfectly predicted their trajectories, and was able to dodge out of the way.

At the moment, Samantha seemed to be outpacing Dawnbreaker. But we weren’t draining our mana pool—we were draining a Water-attuned Mana Shard, which was spurting a jet out behind our unisuit’s extra arm.

I tried to predict what Samantha would do. All she had to do was lose them in the caverns below us.

Samantha’s most valuable commodity was time. Dawnbreaker and Abelino both had places to return to, cities to defend. Samantha could hide underwater for days, and forfeit the cities we had build together.

She wouldn’t risk a head-on battle with Dawnbreaker, because that would be suicide. And there would be no easy way to claim the Aviaton underwater.

So she would run.

Petra’s words rang through my mind. If you can’t take care of yourself, at least let me take care of you for you.

It was time for me to be useful.

I couldn’t control my body, but that didn’t mean I was helpless.

I’d wondered, before, about what Samantha was. Sure, she was an Artificial Intelligence. But what does that mean?

Is Samantha tethered to me somehow? Or could she jump hosts?

With my body being controlled as it was, that really seemed to speak of possession.

Bodies could be possessed—but what about souls? Did Samantha reside in my soul, or in my body?

I activated Spiritual Traveler, and my consciousness left my body.

As I left, I studied my body, which was still descending into the ocean.

My body flinched, ever so slightly, as I followed it.

Inside my body, I could see the dense mana webs that made up a soul, still residing in my body.

Maybe Artificial Intelligence wasn’t the most accurate description of Samantha.

She was an Artificial Soul.

How else could Petra have read her memories? How else could Samantha control my body when I was passed out? How else could she possess me and control me against my wishes?

Well, it just so happened I was perfectly equipped to damage souls.

And coincidentally, damaging souls would affect my body, which was currently being used by Samantha. So, if I were to use Soul Explosion, the best attribute to weaken would be Physical Defense, since that would increase the feedback from the Mana Crystals that Samantha was using.

I considered it for a moment. I was so used to Samantha always winning, always gaining the upper hand, somehow.

But I was blindsided by this, and it seemed Samantha was, too.

I propelled my spirit towards my body, and as I approached, I saw Samantha draw a sword from the Interdimensional Pouch.

Ghostbiter.

Samantha was playing for keeps.

I panicked, and immediately activated Soul Explosion.