Once, in a nightmare, a mysterious voice, both feminine and masculine, asked Xander of something.

"Give up your greatest treasure."

His dreamself thought of three things.

Xander's life was composed primarily of only three people, because of how he kept to himself locked away behind a cloak.

His sister River for which he hoped for something more happy to happen to her. She was always bright ever since he took care of her. She was the best sister that he could wish for, though he wouldn't talk about it.

The friendly banter he had with River was what he thought how siblings are supposed to act, from what he'd seen before he met her. That idea of family made him happy.

Although, if it turns out that Xander was living a lie, a facade of a family, he would be miserable.

"Give up your greatest treasure."

Grant, the old man which he'd known for most of his life. Blinded a long time ago, he listened equally to everyone and tried his best to counsel and guide the people of B4.

With kind words, he discarded his weakness and still chose to be kind to everyone without regard to who they are. Xander always thought Grant knew what he was doing, but he turned a blind eye toward it.

Although, if it turns out that Xander was living a lie, a facade of safety, Xander would be miserable.

"Give up your greatest treasure."

Florian was the closest thing he had to a friend. Happy and shining, he helped Xander through his problems, and made sure he had enough money to support him and his sister. Ever friendly and optimistic, he greeted Xander with a smile and cared through little gestures.

Without Florian, though Xander was hard-pressed to admit it, he wouldn't be with the people he wanted to be around with, and that included him. So, he would visit Florian, help with the shop, get allergies, and jostle each other about the other's lifestyle.

Although, if it turns out that Xander was living a lie, a facade of tolerance, Xander would be miserable.

"Give up your greatest treasure."

He smiled as he found his answer from the depths of his soul.

He ripped out the hearts of the three people standing in front of him.

Before long, the trio had stared at his dead corpse, with their empty stares meaning nothing to Xander anymore.

He still felt like trash after the whole affair was over.

But at least he died with a smile on his face.

***

In a cold sweat, Xander shot up from bed. His palms were sweaty, and his heart was beating wildly without care, as if he had run a marathon.

He had just had a nightmare again, but he couldn't remember the contents of it. Only the glimmers of a dark figure and a strange voice was kept in his mind before slowly drifting away to wherever dreams lurked in the unconscious.

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In the back of his mind, a strange feeling arose.

Something… is wrong, so horribly out of place.

Hopefully this was the after-effects of the nightmare, but he couldn't be completely sure of that. His instincts, and even more his Specialty, knew more than his current senses.

His Specialty was Perspective, the power to be hyper aware of how people saw the world, their References. He could sense and alter the References of other people, seeing them as colors, like splotches of paint.

So, this feeling of horror may be an effect of his Jade.

He should check the time right now. If nothing else, it would calm himself.

The window outside showed that it was around midnight at this time of day, but it seemed like the lights directly above the apartment were on the fritz, turning on and off rapidly, with the rest of the lights being completely off.

The sounds of the underground had quelled significantly. Only a stray light from far beyond gave a sign that he wasn't alone in the world.

Maybe he screamed in the middle of the night and woke up his neighbors, considering how sore his throat felt for some reason. But if so, River would have woken him up, so he discarded the possibility.

He clutched his head. A massive headache racked his body and his temples were aching as blood rushed frantically, though his heart felt strangely still and at peace.

He should get a drink of water. Now. Water was calming.

Stumbling over he stepped on the cold floor beneath him and waddled over to the kitchen. Not turning on the lights, he opened up the cabinet and found the cup he was looking for and placed it under the faucet.

Quickly, his chest began to tighten before he had even turned on the faucet.

He had an onset feeling of absolute terror around him. It almost paralyzed him with how horrible it was. His heart, he thought, was absolutely still, but it turned it was beating with a fervor too intense to ignore.

He focused inside of himself and placed his hand next to his eye before trying to sense anyone else in the apartment complex. Their References should serve as a type of warning signal to see what the danger was.

He was now completely sure that something was wrong.

Suddenly, his heart sank.

Where's River?

Her familiar pieces of her Reference were gone for now. Everyone else in the complex was fine, the family of three were sleeping, but she wasn't in the apartment, and it was midnight already.

She should be there, so why wasn't she? Where was she?

But, he felt something else around the room that forced him to change his thoughts. Someone had marked the areas where he was in the ethereal color of emotions.

A sense inside of him told him what he was seeing. The mixture of green was a feeling of joy. The color of yellow was the color of tension.

And the overarching theme of red was of malice.

He flicked his head around the room but all the shadows stayed where they were, as if nothing was wrong.

Something inside of him told him not to look around, to go further, but he knew he had to. Assessing the situation came first and told how to proceed. Maybe, he could find River somewhere.

Quickly, he went over to the nearest gas lamp he had in his house, on the kitchen counter and turned it on, before taking it with him as he surveyed his surroundings once more.

Illuminated by the new light, he saw that the color of malice had receded somewhat, but was still there, the source of these colors led to one place, which meant that the origin of Reference was there.

All the colors, like paint splattering on a canvas, started from the eyehole where the door was, like a red flashlight in a dark room.

Damn it, I need to know if they know where River is.

Slowly, he grabbed a knife from the nearest drawer and brandished it. He grabbed a broom from the corner of the kitchen, broke off the head, and attached the knife to it carefully, keeping it together with some tape he found.

"Who are you!"

Xander shouted out, but no answer came from the door. The color of joy infiltrated the room though, making the malice he saw take on a green hue.

What a sadistic brute.

"Do you know where my sister is?"

The figure didn't answer once again, and Xander's breath held still.

First, it twisted a little, making a sound like keys jingling.

His heart beat faster and faster. His Specialty wasn't suited for combat.

Then, it started twisting frantically. It looked like the stranger was pushing and pulling on the doorknob powerfully.

Xander slowly backed away from the door and placed himself in the doorway to the bedroom, while keeping his eye on the door. Slowly, he began to open up the bedroom window while keeping track of the Origin of Reference.

The doorknob stopped rattling and Xander felt a cold bead of sweat drop down.

Then, someone pounded on the door.