Mostly cloudy. 11mph winds blowing east. Eighty-four degrees fahrenheit. Heavy rain expected in the afternoon.

“Our time is waning,” Okta stated. The remaining members of Team Virga, Azer and Grif included, were walking purposefully together under the blue-gray sky, scarcely graced with fleeting sunshine.

“Indeed it is,” Dr. D confirmed.

“Is it really our last chance to get Delvin out of jail? Why can’t we break him out?” Grif queried.

“The mayor already knows we’re all… well, working against him. Azer, you were right to say that we’re not going for his position as mayor. That’s not what I want. He only thinks I do because he’s paranoid and I’m his only competition.”

“Sorry, I didn-”

“There’s no need to apologize,” Dr. D shot, “just acknowledge what we can do with the information we have. The mayor was already close enough to figure out Team Virga existed, anyway. You two were right to confront him. Now we’ve gotten everything we need for a pincer attack.”

“Pincer attack?” Mrs. Korca echoed. “Surely you don’t mean-”

“Yes, I do. While Okta and I attend my trial, the rest of you will go to the relic.”

“In the library?” Azer gasped. “Surely not yet?”

“Why not? I can’t make any more moves anyway. Even if I’m found not guilty for… well, whatever Orbo’s going to try me for—I still can’t do anything suspicious. All I can do now is help you all from behind the scenes.”

They were approaching the intersection that met the road with Nur’s court hall. Then, they would split ways. Whether Dr. D joined Delvin in prison or not, the rest of them would try to find the next relic. Nervousness tore at Azer’s insides. Today would end in either a resounding victory or a resounding defeat. He cursed the idea that this might be the last time he saw Dr. D as a free man.

“Are you sure Okta will help you win the case? You said he was an archaeologist, not a lawyer,” pointed Azer.

Okta turned his sullen eyes to Azer, and his face grew serious.

“With my Val, I will not lose.”

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More and more people occupied the seats in the courtroom, filling the building. Five seats stood in the front of the room, facing the podium, but only two people were sitting in them: Dr. D and Okta. Okta Sastrugi would represent Dr. D, and Mayor Orbo Lindwoter, entering the room with a hardened face, would make the case against him. Okta stood and approached the podium with the mayor, and they briefly shook hands. Okta’s eyes briefly glinted, but the mayor’s remained dull.

The last of the court members took their seats. In a normal trial, Mayor Lindwoter would act as the judge. But since the mayor was the prosecutor in this case, the trial would be judged by a panel of Zystinian government representatives acting to ensure a fair outcome.

Okta sat by Dr. D’s side again and the mayor adjusted the mic and took a sharp breath.

“Today we are gathered for the trial of Itell D. Ortum, for reasons of conspiracy and plotting against the government. Defending Ortum will be Okta Sastrugi, and arguing against Dr. Ortum will be me, Mayor Orbo Lindwoter.”

“To begin my case, I find that Itell D. Ortum, along with several other teachers and students within his school, the Battle Academy, have been found plotting against the government. Ortum, along with his co-conspirators, including the already apprehended Delvin Rawins, have trespassed in restricted areas and attempted to glean classified information. The purpose of this, of which I almost certainly believe is true, is to bring Ortum to a position of power and to result in taking mayorship from me. The accused is attempting to violate the safety and sanctity of Nur’s fledgling government.”

Silence fell over the court.

“Mr. Sastrugi, what is your defense?”

Rain began to patter on the windows on the sides of the courtroom. Okta stood from his chair, moved the microphone in front of him, and took a deep breath.

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Mrs. Korca slowly pushed open the large library doors with a creak and the cool library air rushed outside over the three. Grif silently followed them inside, briefly reveling in the less humid air, and shut the doors behind them.

“She’s probably already waiting for us,” Azer pointed. “And, guys, wait.”

Grif and Mrs. Korca stopped in their tracks.

“The librarian—Iris—she has some kind of ability. Last time we were here, Delvin and I were completely silent and invisible, and she still somehow found us. Or, at least, she found Delvin. I’m almost certain she’s another Valin, but I have no idea what her Val is.”

“Should we split up then? Would it make a difference?” Grif asked.

“I’m not sure. I think we should, at least so if she finds us, she only finds one of us. We’ll all make our way into the maintenance room since our real goal here is the relic.”

“You’re the man. I’ll take a different path there, provided I don’t get lost.”

“Then so will I,” Mrs. Korca added.

“Great,” said Azer. “Let’s find this relic.”

The three split off into the empty, labyrinthine library, Grif taking the most direct path he knew. He edged his way along the endless shelves, on constant lookout for any sign of the librarian. Every once in a while, he’d stop to scan his surroundings, taking them in before proceeding further. He walked down a blue-carpeted section of bookshelves, the carpet aged and desaturated from years of wear.

Grif was encountering very little resistance, suspiciously little. The mayor had made it clear how much he wanted the relics kept secret, so why wasn’t Grif being stopped? Surely the relic wouldn’t be left unguarded?

And then, Grif had a terrifying thought. Were Mrs. Korca and Azer the ones being stopped? Grif had easily been the fastest, so what if the others had been attacked? He turned around. What if they needed his help?

A book was lying on the ground in front of him. After a brief moment of shock, he entered a battle stance. That wasn’t there before. Someone was nearby, and it wasn’t Azer or Mrs. Korca. He’d gotten too far ahead of them.

He looked around again, trying to control his breath. His artificial heart was beating quickly. Had she really pulled a fast one on them?

And then, between the books on the shelf on his left, he saw it. An eye, amber yellow, was staring at him.

He swung at the shelf, but the eye and its owner were already gone. Moments later, he heard a voice from all around.

“You already know you shouldn’t be here,” the voice croaked. It was Iris. Grif thought, the others had to be hearing it, too.

“Turn back now. If you don’t… well, this time… the mayor has given me permission to kill. And doesn’t that make sense? You’ll be completely unable to speak of the relic if you’re dead.”

Silence followed. Her voice echoed slightly in the gargantuan library, just enough to hear a second imprint of her ghostly croak.

“Oh, how I’ve waited to hear those orders.”

Then, something rushed by Grif’s side. For a moment, he felt nothing. But, suddenly, a wave of pain in his abdomen made him gasp, and blood began to pour out of a long gash.

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

That accursed Ortum sent his goonies into my relics. Of course it’s because he wants to dig that up and overthrow me! Everyone in the town will rebel if someone finds out the truth. Not while I’m mayor! Nothing this Sastrugi clown says will make a difference.

Okta heard these thoughts in his own mind, though they were not his own. They were the mayor’s. In the brief moment Okta shook hands with the mayor, he had used his Val to temporarily gain access to Orbo’s thoughts. Even before the words were spoken, Okta could sense what the mayor was thinking next, and he would use this to counter the mayor’s points before he even could say them. It wasn’t mind reading in that sense, as he couldn’t take access to the mayor’s memories. But the thought process was Okta’s now, and in a scenario like this, getting in the mayor’s head—literally—would be a huge advantage.

Physically, Okta was the weakest of Team Virga. He knew that. His Val’s combat potential was dwarfed by everyone else’s, even by the kids. Nothing Team Virga did together was a competition, but he knew deep down he was weakest. But in a scenario like this, he was invincible. He’d show the others just how capable he could be.

“I would first like to bring up the possibility of a false accusation,” Okta declared. Almost immediately, Orbo’s face went white. And Okta’s dual mind ability told him that the mayor had just heard exactly what he didn’t want to hear.

“Mayor Lindwoter, do you have any proof of the accused having the intention of overthrowing you?”

Oh, this cheeky bastard. Of course I do! I wouldn’t be in court if I didn’t! It all started with that damned survey a decade ago!

“I would like to firstly disprove the idea that Dr. Ortum wants to take your position as mayor. Ten years ago, a survey of the members of the town said that seventy-six percent of Nur’s citizens would prefer Dr. Ortum as mayor over you, yes? I’m sure that could have been a source of paranoia for you, was it not?”

Orbo’s face went even whiter.

“But you have failed to consider the fact that briefly afterwards, the same surveyors, seniors at the Battle Academy, interviewed Dr. Ortum and asked him if he hoped to be mayor. And Dr. Ortum publicly declared, ‘I have no interest in such a thing. As a principal, I’m already busy enough.’”

Orbo seemed to be choking on his own words. “P- wha- how- how did you-”

“I’m just presenting the evidence as it is, Mayor Lindwoter,” Okta answered with perfect, cold diction.

Who is this Sastrugi bloke? Is that really what Ortum said?

Okta listened calmly to Orbo’s panicked, frantic thoughts as he prepared his next point. All he needed was Orbo to go in for the attack.

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

Grif’s blood poured onto the carpeted floor of the library, staining the worn, dullish blue shag with a grim red. He fell to his knees, mind racing. Tunnel vision began to settle in, limiting his field.

A wound. It’s deep. Really deep. I need to stop the bleeding right now.

One hand clutching the gash, he lifted the other and concentrated on it. The warm, familiar crackle of electricity rang out from his fingers. He made a fist with his free hand, save for his index finger and thumb, which were separated from each other and angled like a claw into the air. The electricity he produced arced between his index finger and thumb, hot electricity expanding the air. And as he concentrated the arc into a continuous stream of high voltage, he ripped off the section of shirt that covered his wound.

Prompting a wince of pain, he pinched the skin around the gash to raise it, and then cauterized the wound with the arcing electricity, giving the deep cut a momentary break to heal.

Grif then let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, and the panic subsided, replaced with glaring anger and confusion. The enigmatic librarian came to mind, and he couldn’t help but think:

This asshole.

Throwing aside the bloodstained portion of his shirt, he stormed towards the maintenance room, but the blood loss and his ever-worsening lightheadedness made him sway from side to side. The paralyzing fear of death the wound had inflicted was being drowned by rage and determination.

If she wanted to play that game, so be it. Grif had previously intended to leave peacefully, but now he was hellbent. He’d find the relic and step on the librarian’s unconscious body the whole way, and he’d depend on Azer and Mrs. Korca to stop him from actually killing her. Now, he was really ready for battle.

First, he’d figure out the librarian’s abilities. How did she find him so quickly? Grif wanted to make his trip to the maintenance room quick, but he had been stealthy, too. He had intentionally avoided the sights of every security camera, and he had stayed as quiet as possible. So how was he found?

And he had to figure out how the hell he'd been attacked so quickly. Something incredibly fast and sharp had rushed by him before the wound appeared; did she have some kind of projectile ability? Or, worse—was she invisible?

No, Grif told himself, she couldn’t be. Azer’s description of Delvin’s capture didn’t involve her being invisible at all—and she had every reason to be invisible then. The really troubling thing was why—and how—he and Delvin had been found, even without leaving any traces of evidence to find them.

With a dubious sense of calm, he continued on deeper into the library. He entered a short hallway, which appeared far more worn and older than the rest of the building. Was he getting closer? If the library was built on top of the relic, perhaps the oldest part would be where the relic was?

Everything in the hallway was covered in dust, hiding the original color of the walls. Grif noticed a raised portion, what looked like it used to be a sign. He wiped a thick layer of dust off the sign, revealing an arrow pointing to the maintenance room.

The dust blew into Grif’s eyes, forcing them shut. He cursed to himself as he rubbed the dust out of his eyes, temporarily blinded, before he heard a quiet footstep. He turned to the noise, still semi-blinded, without making a sound. Was it Azer or Mrs. Korca? Had they already caught up?

Red and irritated, Grif opened his eyes to see the librarian. She hadn’t seen him, as she was still walking carefully around the shelves as if he wasn’t there. Grif sprinted towards Iris, who noticed him with a surprised jolt, only for her to run away and vanish behind a corner.

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

The mayor was already losing his composure, and his attempt at an authoritative voice was showing its cracks. “But, Mr. Sastrugi, that survey was ten years ago. It’s entirely possible Ortum’s mind had changed after that point, because only briefly after that was when his goonies—sorry, his acquaintances, started to dig around in this town’s history for what is plainly politically damaging material.”

“Are you referring to Dr. Ortum’s practice of science and discovery?”

Orbo was silent again, but his thoughts told Okta everything.

Science? What a joke! That’s just a ridiculous excuse for digging up dirt on me!

“Mayor Lindwoter, I believe Dr. Ortum has evidence to show he’s been practicing science. Dr. Ortum, can you tell us what you’ve discovered thus far?”

Dr. D rose, straightened his neat clothes, and then cleared his throat.

“I’ll make it brief. I believe there’s a danger potentially threatening this town, potentially extending to all of Zysti galaxy. An interplanetary virus we call the Magna virus might threaten the safety of our planet. So, in response, my colleagues and I have been looking for evidence of its existence. Our research might also explain The Shades and why it happens. I believe that the two phenomena may be connected somehow. A major breakthrough in this research are the relics that the mayor has been hiding for many years. The only relic that we’ve managed to transcribe has given us important archaeological information, helping our cause and mapping the unique history of Manim. However, the mayor has made it clear that he does not want us pursuing this information, despite the potential consequences ignoring it may have.”

The mayor stood silent, and Okta heard the mayor’s mind race. Dr. D sat down calmly.

These… these must be excuses. He wants my power. Science can’t justify that!

“In further defense of the accused,” Okta continued before Orbo could retort, “Zystinian law protects the acts of science that Dr. Ortum has described.” Okta pulled out a worn, thick pamphlet from a coat pocket, flipped to a page, and then read:

“Section E36 of the Zystinian Laws and Guidelines for Planetary Governance, line 3, states that ‘the pursuit of discovery, when acted by a non-governmental party, even while not specifically endorsed by said government, shall not be prohibited by said government, including any governmental leaders, democratic courts, or elected individuals in power.’ In that, I believe you, Mayor Lindwoter, are violating this law. We’ve now established that Dr. Ortum is practicing science, and yet you are trying to halt it with the false, and frankly paranoid, narrative that he wants to take power from you.”

Okta was on the dot. The mayor, dazed by the unexpected defense, could hardly form a coherent counterpoint.

“Mayor Lindwoter, I now believe it’s your turn to counter,” Okta finished.

The mayor’s mouth contorted as he tried to articulate a thought, and then his face lit up as he audibly exclaimed, “Aha!” Orbo’s attempt at businesslike order was slipping further and further.

“But Mr. Sastrugi, the Zystinian Laws and Guidelines for Planetary Governance don’t apply to established planetary countries! They’re only made to govern planetary colonies without proper leadership, not government systems already established! Otherwise, every planet in the galaxy would have to obey these rules, and we both know that they don’t!”

“But is Manim not considered a colony planet?” Okta replied. “Colonists first set here only 80 years ago. The definition of a country stated at the beginning of Zystinian Laws and Guidelines for Planetary Governance clearly states that it must have existed independently for at least 100 years, and must also-”

“I know what a country is, dammit!” shouted Orbo, slamming his fists on the podium. Uncomfortable silence followed a brief echo in the room. Rain fell on the roof of the courtroom as the mayor glared between Okta and Dr. D. Neither returned the glare.

“Then,” Okta began softly, “can we agree that you are, in fact, violating Zystinian law?”

“Ye- wh- fine, but-” Orbo stuttered.

“Then,” Okta interrupted, “can we both agree that the accused, Itell D. Ortum, is innocent and was falsely accused of attempting to overthrow your position as mayor?”

“I suppose, but you can’t-”

“Then,” Okta interrupted again, danger in his voice, “can we extend this innocence to Delvin Rawins, the man whom you’ve imprisoned for helping Dr. Ortum in his scientific discovery?”

Orbo looked dangerously close to actually exploding.

“Sure!” he blurted loudly. “Fine! Have it your damn way! Trial over! Everyone, out! OUT!”

And as the mayor’s seething thoughts began to leave Okta’s mind, he followed a free man out of the court and into the storm outside.

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

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Thoughts buzzed through Grif’s mind as he witnessed the librarian disappear. Had he briefly cornered her? What he saw in her yellow eyes wasn’t a hunting glare, it was surprise. Somehow, in some way, he’d found her before she found him. Had Grif accidentally broken through her ability?

Grif thought, What was different? Why, that time, could she not find me? He rewound back to the moment before he caught Iris, and remembered: I couldn’t see. Was that it? Did him being unable to see produce a gap in Iris’ ability?

And then, it clicked. Grif recalled Azer’s account of Delvin’s capture, Azer’s confusion about being spared, and Iris’ surprise. It was sight. She could possess the eyes of others, so nobody could hide from her view. With her extensive knowledge of the library’s layout, just taking in the vision of her target told Iris exactly where they were.

But Azer? He had no eyes. To Iris, Azer was an untraceable enigma. And he could easily be the key to their victory. But first, Grif had to tell the others.

He was careful to keep his eyes closed as he ran back into the library, opening them as infrequently as he could manage. It seemed impossible to find Mrs. Korca and Azer without being able to see properly.

Grif continued to weave around rows of books, now lost. All he needed to do now was to find one of fellow Team Virga members.

He cracked his eyes to find another hallway to sprint down, and then closed them again as he ran. He ran for a while before hearing something land in front of him. He briefly opened his eyes again to see Iris standing only a few feet ahead, and a few rows behind her was—Mrs. Korca!

If Iris had been using her ability when Grif’s eyes were open, he’d have accidentally revealed Mrs. Korca’s position to Iris. When he opened his eyes again, Grif noticed that the librarian was gone.

Grif realized that Iris could likely only possess the eyes of one person at a time. So, only one of them could be tracked at once. And right now, it was almost certainly Mrs. Korca. He had to reach her before the librarian could.

Grif threw his hands forwards and concentrated electricity between them. He’d short-circuit himself to make a huge explosion and draw Iris’s attention. The librarian had to be nearby.

Electricity snapped and crackled between his palms and fingers before exploding brightly and loudly, throwing books all around and knocking the shelf in front of him clean over. In the remains of paper and wood, a surprised Mrs. Korca coughed, looking up at Grif with fear, and then relief.

“Oh, thank goodness it’s you,” Mrs. Korca managed. “What happened? What’s going on?”

“Where’s Iris? Did you see her?” Grif demanded, digging his hands through piles of books and lifting up the fallen shelf. But the librarian was already gone.

“Oh my goodness, is that blood?!” Mrs. Korca cried, concerned at Grif’s bloodstained clothing.

“Don’t worry. I’m okay. We need to find Iris. I’ve figured out how she can find us, and you’re not gonna like the solution to how we’re gonna stay hidden.”

“C- come to think of it, I did see something. There was something small and dark, I couldn’t tell exactly what.”

Grif thought back to the sudden slice in his abdomen, and remembered something small and black swooping by him.

“Maybe she can transform?” Grif confirmed.

“That would explain her frequent disappearances and her cutting attacks,” Mrs. Korca agreed.

She fumbled with something in her pockets and then pulled out a handful of silver coins, giving one to Grif.

“If she can transform, I might have a way to weed her out of hiding. We know she can only transform into something small, because anything larger than a person we surely would have noticed. Hold onto this, and tell me what her ability is while I activate mine.”

Grif held the cool coin in his bloody left hand, and felt his ears pop. The quality of the air immediately changed around him. Surprised for a moment, he took her word for it and began to explain Iris’ ability.

“She… she can possess the eyes of another person,” he started, looking around warily for a sign of Iris as he talked. Mrs. Korca remained focused on something he couldn’t see. “She can switch her vision to the vision of another person nearby, and she can use the surroundings she sees through us to conclude where we are in the library. In other words, we’re in her domain. We can only stay hidden if we can’t see.”

“In her domain, huh?” Mrs. Korca commented, finally looking back at Grif. “I don’t think so, not anymore. There’s no way she can hide now.”

“Huh? What did you do?” Grif noticed a change in the quality of the air. Everything looked dimmer and blurry, the visual effects increasing the further away he looked. It almost looked as if he was underwater.

“Pressure triggers,” Mrs. Korca announced. “That’s my ability. I can change the density of anything I’d like, and do so through objects I designate as the trigger. I just made all of the air in the library twenty times denser than regular atmospheric pressure.”

Grif reached a hand out into the air in front of him, and it felt like his hand had left a bubble. The furthest extremities of his hand were being compressed painfully, and he quickly retracted his hand with a wince.

“Keep yourself close,” Mrs. Korca warned. “The pressure too far away from you is dangerously high. The coin I gave you is a trigger. As long as you’re touching it, the area around you will be kept under normal atmospheric pressure. Remember the secret doorway to get to the Team Virga lab? That’s my doing. My power changes the density of the wall to be so thin you can just walk through it.”

“Dangerously high? But, Mrs. Korca, what about Azer? Aren’t we hurting him as well? He doesn’t have a coin!”

“Azer has thick skin. Literally. I’m sure he’s handling the pressure increase far better than we are; if anything, he’s probably just confused at the moment. For now, we wait. If Iris has transformed into some small creature, she won’t be able to last long in this high pressure. She’ll have to transform back, and when she does, we’ll find her. Only I can undo the pressure. She has to come to us.”

The two waited, standing by the fallen bookshelf and tattered, leather-bound papers. The thick atmosphere inside of the library continued to warp light and sound, the pattering rain on the roof of the library coming to their ears muffled and distant. Then another sound joined the distorted sound of rain.

“This… is… nothing…” the warbled voice of Iris said from all around. “In this form… I am only stronger. Faster.”

Then, blindingly fast, something zipped between Grif and Mrs. Korca. And, an instant later, deep gashes were visible on their arms, blood leaking out.

“It’s happening again! But she’s even faster now! How?!” Grif exclaimed.

“Grif-”

The whoosh happened again by Grif’s face, and a deep gash appeared from his cheek up to his left eye. He shouted in pain and grasped his wounded face with his free hand, Mrs. Korca attempting to help him.

“She’s faster! How can she be faster?!” Grif repeated, gasping through the pain.

“Grif, if she’s faster now, that can only mean one thing,” Mrs. Korca said as calmly as she could manage. “The animal Iris can transform into… is a bird. A bird of prey. That means we’ve just given her more air to glide on! Grif, get up! Hurry!”

Grif put up his arms to shield his face, bracing himself. The librarian’s voice rang out again.

“It doesn’t seem fair that you don’t have to live in this air pressure. Why don’t you join me? With this pressure it’s painful to remain in my Tessian form, after all.”

The black object swooped through the air again, and Grif could faintly make out the outline of a raptor, sleek and muscular. She passed only inches in front of him.

“Tessian,” Mrs. Korca remarked. “She’s a Tessian! Valins from Tess have multiple abilities!”

“You must have something that keeps the air pressure around you normal, don’t you?” Iris droned again. “Why don’t you let me have it?”

Iris swooped at Grif again and took something from his hand. He realized too late what had happened.

“A coin…” Iris remarked. “A simple trick.”

As the air pressure crushed Grif’s body, he could faintly make out the bird holding his silver coin between its beaks before promptly swallowing it.

“No!” Mrs. Korca yelled, processing what had happened. “Grif!”

The twenty atmospheres of pressure compressed his skin, his muscles. His eyes felt like they were being pushed into his skull.

“Mrs. Korca!” Grif managed, hearing his own voice distorted by the thick air. “Undo the pressure regulation on the coin you gave me! We can’t get it back from her now! She’s protected!”

“Grif… Grif, I can’t! I can only make and modify pressure triggers on objects I touch! We can’t do anything now! Here… here, I’ll undo the air pressure! Hang on!”

“No,” Grif gasped, desperate to force the liquid-like gas into his lungs. “I realized something. Don’t undo the air pressure in the library. Don’t undo it yet… because now… I can do something I couldn’t before.”

Grif put weight on his crushed legs and began to stand.

“My electricity powers… are only effective… at close range. I can sustain 40 amps of electricity through my hands… enough to power a small house.” He stopped to gasp the thick air into his body again. “But at range… I’m useless. I can’t make much electricity at all. I can’t make arcs of electricity… without a medium. I need a conductor… to use my full power.”

He tried to ignore the agonizing pain in his ears as he reached an arm into the air and towards Iris. His eardrums felt as if they were going to burst. Iris, still a bird, approached.

“But with the air being denser… there are more ions in it to conduct my electricity.”

Voltage sparked between his fingers before erupting into the thick air in a fountain of blinding electricity. Arcs and tendrils edged their way up through the library, a voltaic threat that licked the ceiling.

But it hadn’t hit Iris.

“You missed,” she taunted before extending a talon and whizzing by Grif’s stomach. Blood spat out of the new wound, and he collapsed to the ground.

“I… wasn’t… aiming for… you,” Grif wheezed. “I was trying… to signal… him.”

Mrs. Korca yelped, running to Grif to tend to him, but he was already unconscious. The raptor that was Iris gripped its talons onto a shelf, the razor-sharp claws digging deep into the wood. She perched on it for a moment, taking in the scene. Grif was unconscious. Mrs. Korca was panicked. But who… and where… was he? Iris tried to possess the eyes of lifeforms nearby. She could possess Mrs. Korca’s glasses-covered eyes, and the eyes of the occasional insect around… but nobody else. Grif was unconscious and his eyes were closed. Who was he signaling?

From behind a shelf Iris saw a horrible sight. A boy, dark gray-skinned and lanky, was emerging.

And he had no face.

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Azer took in the sight, not with eyes but with something else inside of him, something alien. He could see Mrs. Korca leaning over Grif, who was bleeding, and a sharp-eyed raptor perched on a nearby bookshelf. He quickly understood what was happening.

“Is she changing the air pressure?” Azer asked.

“No, that was me!” Mrs. Korca cried. “She can transform into… this and… and possess the eyes of others. But–”

“You…” Iris seethed at Azer. Her face, still that of a bird, twisted into rage. Her piercing yellow eyes thinned as she glared at him. “How long have you been here?”

“Since you took Delvin,” Azer snarled in return. “And I still haven’t gotten back at you for that.”

“Azer!” Mrs. Korca cried out again. Her voice was distant and warbled through the thick atmosphere inside the library. “Grif’s hurt!”

And then, just like that, Iris stepped off of her perch and disappeared. She was already faster than any eye– or otherwise– could see. Attack was imminent.

“Should I undo the air pressure? It will take some time!”

“No, not yet,” Azer answered. “Stay with Grif and keep him under regular pressure. We can take advantage of this thick atmosphere. What exactly is your ability? Tell me down to the details.”

Mrs. Korca took a deep breath, her glasses-widened eyes glancing around for a sign of Iris. “I can turn objects into triggers that modify the density of materials around them. I can modify the pressure of the air, or I can reduce the pressure of an object to turn it into a gas and pass through it. But I can only affect pressure by setting objects as triggers, and those triggers only work through being touched by something living. I gave Grif a coin earlier, as a trigger normalizing the air pressure in a radius of him. But Iris stole it, and now the high air pressure won’t affect her.”

“Can your density triggers affect anything? Any material?” Azer asked.

“Yes, but I have to establish what is being affected, how the density is changed, and the range in which it comes into effect. I can’t do it instantly, either.”

Azer thought for a moment, trying to focus on the fleeting signs of Iris swooping around them.

“I’ve got it,” he exclaimed. “Mrs. Korca, I want you to make a pressure trigger that affects only air. Make the trigger’s range affect a large area, and make it so the density of the air is decreased as low as you can make it go. After you’ve done that, give me the trigger, but don’t touch it. I’m going to use it as a weapon. You said the triggers only happen when touching something organic?”

“Yes, only when touching something living. Dropping a trigger on the ground will do nothing.”

“Then this is going to be tricky.”

Mrs. Korca pulled a coin out of her pocket and held it between her fingers, concentrating. She then looked up at Azer.

“The moment I let this coin go, the trigger will be active. We won’t be able to touch it. Are you sure this is a good idea? The pressure difference this trigger will make could kill us if it touches us. The massive pressure decrease in the air is going to be like an explosion, and even your thick skin won’t protect you.”

“Which is exactly why I wanted it.” Azer leaned down to a fallen bookshelf and gripped a beam on its side. S.R. flowed through his arm, and he ripped the wooden beam clean off and tossed it between his hands. This would be his bat. “I’ll hit the coin at Iris and it’ll take her out. This is a gamble I’m willing to take. When I say go, toss the coin to me, alright?”

“But Azer! Iris is incredibly fast! Grif and I could hardly see her when she attacked, much less just flying around at full speed! There’s no way a little coin can hit her!”

“It’s our only chance.”

Mrs. Korca looked at him with disbelief, before hardening her expression and nodding. Azer nodded in return.

“I trust you.”

“Go!” Azer called out.

As the silver coin flipped through the air, Azer activated his S.R. His senses slowed down, and all movements around him became sluggish. His muscles felt quick and nimble, and his hands gripped the wooden beam tightly. The coin began to fall in front of him, and he trained his focus on the quickly moving image of Iris, a raptor flying through the air twenty feet directly in front of him. His muscles flexed, and he swung.

Azer hit the coin, and it jetted through the air at lightning speed. It whizzed just by Iris, disrupting a feather on her wing, before slamming into the opposite wall with a crack and embedding itself deep inside. Iris immediately used her incredible speed to swoop towards Azer and extend a talon, cutting the right side of Azer’s neck. But he hardly flinched. He ignored the warm blood pouring down his neck.

“Again!” he yelled to a mortified Mrs. Korca. “Give me another coin! I’ve got her movement down!”

“A- already on it! But I only have two left! You have to hit her!”

“I will!”

As Iris flew in circles around Mrs. Korca and Azer, Mrs. Korca set another trigger on the silver coin.

“Go!” Azer shouted.

The coin flipped through the dense air again, light reflecting off its spinning sides. Azer took his aim, S.R. pumping through his veins, and focused on the coin and the raptor. He swung the wooden beam once more.

The beam impacted the coin, damaging the wood, and then launched it through the air. Traveling impossibly fast, it hit the bird of prey directly in the chest.

The pressure trigger activated, causing a cascade of atmospheric mayhem. The expanding bubble of thin air around the coin ejected the thick atmosphere around it in a gigantic shockwave. The shockwave traveled into Iris’ small raptor body, jarring her organs and brain. As the coin left contact with her body, the bubble of expanding thin air dissipated, and the thick atmosphere collapsed back with staggering force directly into Iris. The bird coughed a spurt of blood and flew out of sight.

The shockwave rocked and shook the library, bouncing off of the shelves and walls. It sounded like a deafening explosion, but there was no fire or brimstone. Only the staggering force of a shattered atmosphere.

After the shockwave dissipated, only silence filled the library. Every security camera was now shattered, pieces of glass littering the floor. But Azer saw the distinctive shape of a bird still in the air, blood dripping down its beak.

“She’s still going!” Azer exclaimed. “Mrs. Korca, one more! Give me the last coin!”

“R- really?! A- alright, I’m doing it! Get her, Azer! Finish this!”

Azer’s body felt shaken and his skin tingled painfully. Only one more.

“Go!”

The coin flipped through the air for the last time, and Azer tracked Iris’ movement. She was slower this time. S.R. forced his muscles to flex, and he slammed the wooden beam into the coin.

But no coin was shot at Iris. It was as if it had completely disappeared. What had happened? Then Azer saw it.

The silver coin had embedded itself in Azer’s wooden beam. It was completely stuck inside a crack in the beam’s top. It was over.

Iris noticed the failed attack and swooped towards Azer, who was holding the beam uselessly. Although the coin was stuck inside of the beam’s tip, half of it was sticking out. If he could hit her with that, then…

Azer gripped the bottom of the beam with both hands and raised it over his head. He would hit Iris the moment she got within range. It was a contest of speed now.

Iris extended her talons, and Azer used his S.R. to swing the beam down with brutal force. In a fraction of a second, the beam hit Iris, and the coin impacted her head.

The explosion of pressure blew them both back, rocking their bodies and damaging their internal organs. The deafening BOOM echoed through the library, louder than ever, the pressure difference smashing the windows that kept the pouring rain outside.

Azer’s brain and body were rattled. He was close enough to the epicenter of the atmospheric explosion to take major damage, and as he tried to push himself up he struggled to form a thought. His head was spinning, but he could barely make out Iris, back to her original form, bleeding from the head and lying on the ground. For a moment, Azer could only process the pattering of rain outside the library, the moist air flowing in, the dense atmosphere of the library no longer contained. The pressure normalized, and all he could feel was the sensation of humid air on his skin.

Mrs. Korca got up first, the farthest from the explosion’s epicenter. Blood was leaking out of the side of her mouth, and she held her head with a hand as she rose. Azer found his way to his feet, but collapsed momentarily after.

Azer couldn’t process anything, until he heard Mrs. Korca softly saying:

“No… how…”

Azer saw Iris standing up straight and tall. Her mouth was closed and her lips were thin, and her golden-rimmed glasses were cracked. Blood was still falling from her head. Her piercing yellow eyes looked at Azer with rage.

“I can’t go down that easy,” Iris said matter-of-factly. “I can’t be beat. Your explosion hurt you as much as it did me.”

She began to stride towards Azer, tripping over her own feet on the way.

But in her path was Grif, who had risen, too. He glared at Iris and stood firmly in her way, unmoving. They both stood for a moment.

“I will make you know despair,” Iris declared. “Faceless boy, I will kill your friend in front of you.”

“Did you know that I’ve been struck by lightning?” Grif asked Iris. She said nothing, only moving her sharp eyes onto his.

“When I survived The Shades, I was struck by lightning. People talk about wanting to know what it would feel like to be struck by lightning, but it’s terrible. It hurts. There’s nothing fun about it.”

“What are you-”

“But I learned something after being struck,” Grif interrupted. “I learned how to make my own lightning, and all it takes is a positive charge. A conductor. Do you know what Mrs. Korca’s coins are made of?”

“You-”

“Silver,” Grif answered before Iris could speak. She was growing furious, her face growing red with rage. “It’s the most conductive metal there is.”

In an instant, Iris lunged at Grif, extending massive talons towards his throat. But, moments quicker, Grif emitted a crack of electricity in front of him. The charge arced from his hand toward a spot pinpointed between Iris’ eyes. It traveled through the library air and hit the silver coin Azer had embedded into the wall only minutes earlier. Thousands of amps and millions of volts ripped through the damp library air and straight through Iris’ head. The searing, white-hot charge passed between her eyes and blinded her. A final, deafening crack filled the air, and Iris fell limp to the ground.

Grif sighed exhaustedly.

“You should have stayed down. You won’t be able to see through anyone’s vision again for a while. Especially your own.”

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

Azer pulled open the hatch underneath the desk, and the first thing he and Grif could see was a puff of dust, followed by neverending blackness emitting from below. The two looked at each other wordlessly before Azer positioned himself, dangled his legs through the hole, and jumped down.

The sound of his sneakers hitting stone echoed through what sounded like a chamber. No light was visible except for the small rectangular glow of the trapdoor above.

“It’s not too deep,” Azer shouted back up. “You should be able to make it.”

Mrs. Korca’s magnified eyes peeked into the dark relic, occupying the opening of the hatch.

“Grif, be careful,” Mrs. Korca warned, turning to him. “I only gave you first aid. Don’t push yourself.”

“Yeah, this better not open up my wounds,” Grif griped. “Azer, I’m gonna kill you if this kills me.”

Grif’s legs could be seen covering the gap of rectangular light before disappearing again as he fell into the blackness. He landed with a wince and a similar chambery echo.

“Damn, dude! That was a lot deeper than I thought! That hurt!”

“Sorry about that. I guess I’m not that good at judging distance.”

They were silent again as the two took in the cold, silent darkness. Neither wanted to walk in either direction for fear that they wouldn’t be able to find a wall.

“I’ll contact Dr. D,” Mrs. Korca said. “You two take your time down there, and let me know if I need to throw you a ladder.”

“We will,” Azer shouted back up.

“The air smells… weird. Azer, do you smell that? Actually, can you smell that?”

The air inside of the chamber was odd, a hint of petrichor along with something almost sour. This smell lingered inside of the chamber, the air feeling wet despite the cold dryness.

“Grif,” Azer started, “do you have the energy to make some more electricity?”

“Yeah,” he answered, “on it.”

Grif moved his index finger and thumb together and sparks arced between them, growing in intensity, sound, and light until the buzzing sound of Grif’s electrical fingers illuminated the chamber.

The room was extensive and round, a perfect half-sphere. Symbols and runes lined the walls up to their height, and the top of the chamber was dotted with more than a dozen circles of varying sizes. The top of the sphere was roughly twenty feet up, the rectangular entrance slightly misplaced from the very highest point. The sphere was forty feet in diameter, wall to wall. Azer walked over to what appeared to be the beginning of writing above a deep line in the stone wall.

Azer reached out a finger and touched the stone sigils. It was deeply cold, the kind of cold that instantly chills to the bone. He again felt that unexplainable feeling of familiarity, but it vanished immediately. He rubbed the blackish dust between his fingers.

“Azer, this thing looks… old. Impossibly old. It doesn’t even look ancient. It looks like it’s straight from another world, a society we can’t even comprehend. It looks… beyond ancient.”

Azer kept this in mind as he read.

“‘This planetarium illustrates the astronomical recordings of the Hivanian society over our time on this planet. On the ceiling of this relic are a number of planets…’ So these things are planets?”

“I guess so,” Grif seconded. He stared up at the circular carvings in the stone, scanning them for details.

“I can read some of the labels on the planets… ‘Peremil…’ that one says ‘Ulbitinum…’ none of these are planets I’ve heard of. Any of those ring a bell?”

“Nope. Any way that these are just old names for current planets?”

“I don’t think so. I read a book on the planets in our area and nothing met these coordinates. There’s galactic coordinates on the sides, see?” Azer asked.

“Then what are these?”

“I’ll check, the text on the walls mentioned them. It might say something about the planets.”

Azer began reading again. “‘... planets which were in the path of the Magna virus. Telescopic observations show that every form of life on the planets were completely extinguished. Extinction is imminent, thus we are taking unexpected measures to evacuate our planet.’”

Grif stared wide-eyed at Azer, who shared his panic, heart pumping out of his chest.

“Azer,” Grif whispered, his mouth dry, “how old is that? Is there a date? How long has… has it been here? The virus? When did this happen?”

Azer mumbled as he paced around the edges of the room, looking between different symbols before he slowly turned towards Grif.

“Sixty thousand years ago.”