Jason stepped into Oliver’s house in the middle of the night. He would’ve preferred to be back at his place but he had news to give, and Ash had cooked pasta. So those were two reasons he was more than willing to be here rather than go home.

Oliver let him in with a suspicious grin Jason was more than happy to ignore. Once upon a time he would’ve suspected it, maybe even grilled Oliver for its reason. Now, the little time he’d spent around Zed had taught him that not asking usually was the best option. So he walked into the house accepting Oliver’s greeting and ignoring his smirk.

Inside, the house was lit by candle lights affixed to the walls where candles rested on their stands. Each time he saw these things in people’s homes in town, it reminded him of what used to be. A time when the entire world had electricity and simple light bulbs, and televisions and video games and laptops. Jason hated the reminiscing and that was why there were no candles in his house. Since the second awakening and slip-space had placed him in a place away from home, he’d connected with light mana very easily, and he’d been happy for it.

Sometimes Jason thought his actions after the second awakening were the reason he became a light mage. He’d never liked the dark as a child and never liked it growing up. Then when the world lost its electricity, he was forced to live without light. It made nights a special bit of a horror story for him. Then he’d learnt light spellforms, connected to them and used them very generously. At night he would cast it as many times as the little orbs of translucent light would last. By the time he was Beta rank and had found this town, he could cast almost all the light magic he knew without thought, like blinking.

Jason had found the town in the middle of the night and had been more than happy to find a few houses with light in them as he’d snuck through the streets. For the first few nights, Jason had cut out a home for himself in one of the houses, sneaking out before the crack of dawn and sneaking back in at the rise of darkness. For the sake of a place to rest his head without getting caught, he’d forced himself to suffer the discomfort of the dark lest anyone see a house bright when it was not supposed to be occupied and find him. Still, Heimdall had been the one to catch him one fateful night as he snuck back in.

Even now, Jason had no idea how Heimdall had known. Whether it was a coincidence or not was a thought that still plagued him even after all these years. Jason considered it a stroke of luck that Heimdall hadn’t kicked him out; a stroke of luck that Heimdall had been willing to keep him here and officially offer him a place amongst their ranks.

Jason’s first night with candle light had been a peaceful one, he’d slept early and woken up late. He had been glad for light that did not depend on his concentration and his peace had lasted a few days before he’d begun dreaming of a past that he thought he’d finally accepted was never coming back.

It was only a matter of time before candle lights began reminding him of what he really wanted; lights from bulbs powered by electricity. So he stopped restocking his supply of candles and stopped lighting the ones he had. When Heimdall had asked him why, he’d said using his orbs of light helped build his skills. It was the truth, but it was not the reason. He didn’t want to tell Heimdall he missed electricity and video games and the old comforts of civilization so much that even things that reminded him of it hurt. And how could he? All these were things rumors claimed the VHF offered happily in the places where they were in power. To tell Heimdall such a thing was to look down on the man’s kindness in allowing him stay and give him the idea that he was more than willing to throw in with the VHF.

Heimdall had eventually taken Jason under his wings as time passed. He claimed Jason’s devotion to perfecting his magic and rising up the ranks was admirable. So he taught Jason how to use spellforms in more constructive ways, how to track down animals, how to survive better out in the desolate parts of the world. As for how to fight, he’d delegated the task to Ivan. It was so clear that most people began taking Jason as an honorary second in command, deferring to his judgement in certain situations amongst the few hunters. The fact that Ivan gave showed him a touch of favor ever since he’d saved the man’s daughter played a part in singling him out as superior.

As time went by Jason’s loyalty to the town grew and his loyalty to Heimdall soared. Before he knew it, he was already sharing in Heimdall’s devotion against the VHF despite truly knowing nothing about them. All Jason knew of them was that they retained the old world civilization and ran a government of people as an autocracy.

Sometimes Jason felt the only reason Heimdall had not disbanded his team was because he liked Ash and Oliver’s willingness to help and loved Chris deep seethed hatred for VHF. That and the simple fact that they had been chosen by Jason, placed within his command.

Jason cast his thoughts aside, pulling himself to the present, to the annoying sight of candle light and the smell of well cooked pasta and tomato stew that filled the house as Oliver walked past him with a light pat on the back.

“We’re in the living room,” Oliver said, turning into the living room.

Jason followed quietly, contemplating how calmly he should share the piece of information he had. Especially since this wasn’t his home and Chris was around. Jason had seen her specialty once and knew it was a tremulous thing, and sometimes she lacked control of it when she got angry.

Inside the living room, Oliver struggled against Chris’ disturbance as she poked him in the side and tugged at his ear, complaining about one dismay or the other he was not responsible for but was blamed for, regardless.

Chris looked up at Jason as he entered the room and raised an open hand in greeting.

“What’s up?” she greeted.

“Not much,” Jason answered with a raised hand of his own. “Where’s the food?”

“Ash’s almost done.”

Jason turned to the couch he usually took up and found Zed sprawled on it, unconscious. His feet were unsurprisingly bare and wads of tissue were stuck up his nostrils.

He turned his gaze to Oliver with a questioning look.

“What happened to him?” he asked.

Oliver shrugged. “When I came back he was already like this,” he said. “I swear I had nothing to do with it.”

The last part was directed at Chris and the girl frowned.

“I would’ve called you sexy if you had been responsible for it,” she said.

Oliver shuddered visibly at the compliment and Chris cuffed him over the back of the head.

“When a girl gives you a compliment,” she said. “You take it.”

She tried to smack his shoulder and Oliver slipped out of her reach at the last moment, chuckling awkwardly.

“To me,” he said, “a girl implies cute and ladylike.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Chris grumbled.

“Simple. Girls don’t hit me and threaten me with other forms of bodily harm.”

“Well it’s not my fault you can’t handle a little bit of violence,” Chris said. “I think you should learn to take it every once in a while. Some girls like a strong man. A man that’s willing to fight them down, put them in their place from time to time. If you can’t be properly violent how exactly are you going to please your girl in—”

“Woah! Woah!” Ash cut in with a raised voice as she sauntered into the living room from the stairs. “That’s more than enough about the birds and the bees with my brother, Chris. If he wants more lessons, take it outside.”

“Nope,” Oliver said with a boyish grin. “I’m good. Got more than enough of that from dad.”

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Jason caught Ash’s expression fall at the mention of their father before she schooled it and he had a feeling he wasn’t the only one.

“So anyone willing to tell me what happened to Zed?” he asked, throwing the question for anyone to pick up, moving the conversation.

“Oh, that,” Ash said, slipping back into the kitchen. “I get that he’s in your chair, but that’s his bed now. Pick another chair.”

Jason smiled softly as he threw himself onto a one-seater.

“That’s not what I’m asking about,” he said. “I’m more concerned about the tissue paper. Our supply of it has been very limited ever since Felix, and I’m wondering why we’re wasting it on someone who can regenerate.”

“That’s because he had a nose bleed that refused to stop,” Ash said. “I couldn’t have him staining the whole place.”

“And were you the one that gave him the nose bleed?”

“No,” Ash said, opening a pot of pasta and setting plates down on the kitchen counter.

“What of the unconscious part, because that’s not a sleeping man’s aura.”

“Found him like that, too,” she said.

Off to one side of the living room Oliver and Chris were having a quiet conversation in low voices. Oliver did a lot of boyish smiles that showed he was enjoying himself and Chris had a few scowls that made it seem as though Oliver was enjoying himself at her discomfort. At a point she reached up to pull on his cheek and he rubbed it painfully, but his smile never faded.

Jason wondered if Imani should be worried before turning his attention back to Ash.

“If you found him like this,” he said. “Any idea who put him like that?”

She shrugged. “Himself, apparently.”

“What do you mean?”

“Some kid came to find me, said Festus was looking for ‘friends of the guy with red hair’. When I got there, he was passed out on the patio floor, bleeding like a leaking tap.”

“Did Festus tell you exactly what happened?”

“Yup.” Ash maneuvered four plates into the living room, two rested along the lengths of each forearm. “He said he got the nose bleed from trying to understand a rune.”

“Odd,” Jason mused. “He got one, too, when I showed him that rune back then.”

“Yeah.”

Ash passed a plate between Chris and Oliver, halting their conversation. Chris released Oliver’s slightly torn high school football jacket from between her fingers to take their plates before Oliver could take his. Ash gave her a suspicious look before moving on to Jason.

“And his state of unconsciousness was caused by what?” Jason asked as he took his own plate from her.

“The same thing,” Ash answered.

“Wait,” Jason said, surprised. “You’re saying that according to Festus, Zed got a nose bleed and passed out because he was learning a rune?”

“Yup.”

“Which one?”

Ash plopped herself on the small space left on the couch Zed was passed out on, and spared Zed a soft look before answering.

“I have no idea,” she said. “Festus didn’t tell me.”

“Well isn’t that something,” Jason chuckled. “The old man must be ecstatic. Remember how he’s always talking about that VHF rune mage, what’s his name again…”

“Valof,” Chris said, bitterly. “It’s not really his name, though. He’s got some generic English name like Paul or Peter or something.”

“I’m sure none of us thought someone named their child Valof,” Jason said. “But thank you, Chris. So you know how he’s always talking about the guy, and how he was the first rune mage he’d ever seen so dedicated to his task that he got a nose bleed trying to discover a rune?”

“Yeah,” Oliver said, frowning as Chris took a bite from his plate. “Always thought it was stupid to get a nosebleed learning magic. I already shed enough blood fighting monsters. And people.”

“Well, Festus doesn’t see it that way,” Jason said. “I’m sure he’ll be in a good mood for the next few days if Zed can just keep on bleeding.”

“Well, I don’t know about all that,” Ash said, between bites, “but he did have one of those mad scientist smiles when I met him. You know the one that looks like they just created a plague that could cure cancer but also wipe out the human race? Yea, that one.”

“Sounds like Festus,” Chris said.

“Jason isn’t wrong, though,” Ash said. “Festus made sure I remembered to tell Zed that he was supposed to come back tomorrow for another lesson.”

“But he’s supposed to be meeting with Ivan,” Jason protested.

“You got Ivan to agree?” Oliver asked, surprised.

“I told him that,” Ash said at the same time Jason answered Oliver.

“It took a lot of convincing but he agreed,” Jason confirmed.

“Anyway,” Ash continued. “He scoffed when I told him, and said he was going to have a conversation with Ivan about it, and that if Zed wasn’t at his place by midday he’d hold me personally responsible.”

Jason sighed and rubbed his forehead. “I guess we don’t have a choice then. If he’s going to talk to Ivan, there’s no way Ivan will tell him no. Just get him to Festus tomorrow and we should all be fine.”

They slipped into silence after that and enjoyed their meal. Jason and Ash ate in silence and Oliver struggle against Chris each time she chose to take a bite out of his pasta.

“If you want more, you know there’s still some in the kitchen, right,” Oliver grumbled. “You can just go get some.”

“Then why are you complaining if you know there’s more,” Chris shot back. “If yours isn’t enough just go get more.”

Oliver got up and she grabbed his jacket then pulled him back down.

“Go get more after,” she said. “I’m not done with you.”

They spent some more time eating, savoring the taste of Ash’s cooking.

When they were done, Oliver gathered their plates and washed them at the kitchen sink. The first time Jason had experienced the cooking and dish washing dynamics between the siblings and found out Oliver could also cook, he’d thought it was a case of whoever didn’t cook washed the dishes. Apparently, he’d been wrong, because even when Oliver cooked, Oliver washed the dishes.

Apparently, washing the dishes was Oliver’s sworn duty. Jason had asked why once upon a time and Oliver’s answer had been simple, even if begrudging.

“It’s because she’s older,” he’d said. “I’m kind of supposed to do what she tells me. And she hates washing the dishes so I’m stuck with them.”

Jason was an only child, but the friends he’d had before the second awakening that had sisters usually had their sisters completely in charge of any kitchen related task. Thus, he couldn’t bring himself to claim he understood.

When Oliver was done with his lifetime designated chore and was comfortably seated beside Chris, Chris pulled them to the crux of their presence here.

“So how did it go with Heimdall?” she asked Jason.

“Good and bad,” Jason answered.

“Good first,” Oliver said quickly.

Chris turned to him. “Why are you always choosing good first?”

“Because bad first kills the excitement of the good, but good first softens the blow of the bad.”

“Oh.”

Oliver tapped a finger to the side of his head. “That’s what it sounds like to be intelligent.”

“Good it is, then,” Jason said. “The good news is we’ve found a new supplier for mana stones. He’s willing to trade three mana stones for two monster cores of equal ranks.”

“Didn’t Felix used to trade three cores per mana stone?” Ash asked.

“Yeah,” Chris said. “That fool has either been scamming us or this good news isn’t really good news.”

“Why?” Jason asked.

“Because if Felix hasn’t been scamming us, then it makes this new guy very suspicious.”

Jason thought about it for a moment and nodded, crestfallen. “Oh.”

“Way to go turning good news into bad news, Chris,” Oliver grumbled. “Now we’ve got two bad news. What’s the other one?”

Jason’s lips pressed into a thin line for this one.

“We’ve got a confirmed VHF sighting,” he said.

“Where?” Chris asked, immediately alert.

“The shed,” Jason said. “Craig came back with bruises and a mana burn last night. According to him, the VHF found the shed and took the others captive.”

“Ransom doesn’t sound like the VHF,” Chris mused.

“And Craig doesn’t seem strong enough to escape a VHF encounter,” Ash added. “He might be a category three Beta, but he’s got the skills and brain of a simple awakened. No way he fought his way to freedom.”

“Heimdall’s already pieced that together,” Jason said. “He didn’t escape. Chances are the VHF platoon let him think he escaped. Somehow they know the shed wasn’t all there was to it. I bet they wanted him to come back to us and tell us what happened.”

“You think they tracked him here?” Chris asked, her eye growing deadly, and Jason chose his next words carefully before she lost control and ruined what was left of Ash’s chair.

“No,” he said. “But if they did, we’ve got the watch on high alert.”

“High alert,” Chris scoffed. “Bruce doesn’t know the meaning of alert. He’ll be too busy looking for the next foolish girl pining over the chance to shag a hunter.”

“True. That’s why he’s not on guard duty any more. Heimdall took him from his post and set him with the others in the armory.”

“Oh. I guess everyone knows the guy is incompetent,” Chris said.

“There’s no one that doesn’t,” Ash said. “So what does Heimdall want to do about the VHF? Is he going to negotiate with them?”

“Unlikely,” Jason answered. “I think he’s going to send some of our guys to scout them out. See their strengths and what they came with. If they have a rune air craft, then he might lean towards a negotiation.”

“That’s a very big might,” Chris said.

“True,” Oliver agreed. “Considering how he talks about them, he’s more likely to go looking for a way to steal the damned thing. And if they don’t have a rune air craft?”

“Then he just might try to kill them all and take their gears,” Jason answered.

“So it’s official,” Ash sighed, leaning her head against the back rest of the couch. “We’re going to battle with them.”

“Fighting the VHF is always a better option than any other encounter with them,” Chris said with too high a level of determination.

“Yeah,” Jason said absently. “I guess we’re going to be spilling human blood.”

Ash paused, a slight frown on her face. “You guys know if we manage to take out this platoon and VHF gets wind of it, we would have just declared war on the entire VHF, right?”

“Let them bring it,” Chris scowled.

“Yeah,” Jason muttered, unsure. “Let them.”

Zed chose that moment to mumble something incomprehensive. It was total and unadulterated rubbish, and everyone turned to him.

“You guys see why I find him annoying?” Chris said. “Even unconscious he just can’t shut up.”

Oliver was quiet a while. Since they’d met Zed they hadn’t been very nice to him. And while he’d done nothing unfair to Zed, he’d been quiet through it all. To some degree, he understood the treatment Jason had been giving Zed. But he still couldn’t understand why Chris hated him so specifically.

He tried not to dwell on any of it as he thought of more pasta.