“And I don’t know what happened after that, because, you know, I was dead,” Samson said. Lee sighed and rubbed her temples.

“You don’t remember anything about the ritual?”

“Nothing useful.”

“Nothing at all?”

“It was definitely a circle,” Samson said. “I think the symbols on top had a lot of lines.”

Lee sighed again. That really wasn’t useful.

“Well I learned jack shit,” Harley said. “Hawke?”

“Nothing on my end either,” Hawke said.

“My attempts at conventional rituals also failed,” Lee said. “It would seem Ibrahim stumbled across a piece of the puzzle we all missed.”

“God knows how,” Samson grumbled. Lee ignored the passive aggressive remark and kept them on track.

“Anything that can be discovered can be rediscovered,” Lee said. “Samson, if you can get the right textbooks, I’ll prepare the rituals, and we should have this knocked out by lunch.”

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

Samson picked at a french fry from his lunch. It had gotten cold and soggy.

“Okay, try this one.”

Lee put down an energy drink and sluggishly grabbed the document. Hours of failed experimentation had left her drained of magical and physical energy. She still had the mental acuity to scan the document for errors, at least.

“Samson, this is barely a change.”

“Minor differences can have big effects.”

“In hardware and software, maybe,” Lee said. “Magic is bigger, and quite frankly, needlessly dramatic sometimes. You need to make more drastic changes.”

Samson tore up the drawing and threw the scraps on the floor before starting over. Harley watched the drift into the reject pile along with the dozens of other failed documents.

“Feel like maybe we should start working on plan B here, guys,” Harley said. Hawke and Kim had already gone to lock up Kim’s spare body parts, as a precaution, and Harley had made sure her friends in the robotics department were disassembling any potentially dangerous drones. Even with the most dangerous potential machines disarmed, a horde of phone ghosts was less than ideal, and their current plan wasn’t exactly working out.

“I can do this,” Samson insisted. Anything Ibrahim could do, he could easily do better. He was the smarter twin, after all.

“It might be wise to have a second plan,” Lee said. Their initial idea, to have the ritual ready and simply exorcise the entire island as soon as the hauntings began, was looking less and less likely by the second. “Harley, work on tracking down the source and taking some preventative measures. Vell, help me recharge for a moment and I’ll try to come up with something for you.”

Samson took a break while Harley took action, and Vell took Lee to go get some sunlight and fresh air -and, most importantly, privacy.

“Alright, so what do you want to tell me now that Samson’s not around?”

“I had an idea, and it’s an odd one,” Lee said. “I just wanted the perspective of a longtime looper...and also yes, to not have Samson around.”

Vell nodded, and Lee elaborated.

“You’re familiar with the second rule of looping, yes?”

“Without us changing events, everything will happen exactly the same as before,” Vell said. That was why they had to rely on convoluted schemes instead of making simple disruptions and letting the butterfly effect take over. “What are you thinking?’

“I’m thinking, what if we tried to force that effect? Put Ibrahim in similar circumstances as the first loop and see if he comes to the same result?”

“That’d be...interesting,” Vell said. He had to take a moment to think about it. They’d never tried to exploit the time loop in that way. Usually they were looking to do the exact opposite. “I guess it could work, but, uh, one thing.”

“Yes?”

“Ibrahim hates me,” Vell said.

“Not anymore than he hates the rest of us.”

“Right. Guess I’ll give it a shot, then. I’ll let you know how it goes.”

“I’m sure you’ll do great. Just remember, you need Goldie, a lot of textbooks, a reason to investigate cyber exorcisms, and Ibrahim.”

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

The first step on Vell’s mission was to get Goldie’s help. She was easily bribed with a large order of potato-based food, so Vell checked that off his list real fast. Next were the textbooks, which were slightly less easy, as the librarian could not be bribed with potatoes, but still fairly easy. A good reason to be studying cyber exorcisms was the first major hurdle, and it reared its head as soon as Goldie was done eating.

“Why exactly are we researching ways to get data ghosts out of computers?”

Vell wracked his brain for about ten solid seconds.

“I’m...going to play a prank on Harley.”

“By getting a ghost out of her phone?”

Vell wracked his brain for another ten seconds.

“No. I want to put a ghost in her phone, but I want to be sure I can get it out later.”

“Alright, sure,” Goldie said. Vell gave himself a mental pat on the back. That was surprisingly good improv, by his standards. “We getting Samson to handle the computer stuff?”

“Nope, Samson is too intimidated and/or attracted to Harley to defy her,” Vell said. “We have to go for the other twin.”

“The other twin,” Goldie said. She’d never actually met Ibrahim, but she’d heard the stories. “The one that hates you guys?”

“I figure he might be on board for a prank, you know,” Vell said. “Help one guy he hates to hurt another.”

“That feels like a stretch.”

“Don’t try to look for outs now,” Vell said. “You already ate the french fries, you’re in as deep as I am.”

“Damn those spuds,” Goldie said. “Fine. Let me talk to Ibrahim, though. Maybe he’ll be nicer since he doesn’t know me.”

“Sounds good. Take the lead.”

Thanks to Samson’s recap of the first loop, Vell knew Ibrahim would be crossing the quad around this time. He found an excuse to wait in place and camped out until he saw Ibrahim start to come his way. Predictably, Ibrahim tried to veer away from Vell, but Goldie chased him down. The sight of an attractive woman reverted Ibrahim’s priorities, and he immediately leaned on a wall and tried to look cool.

“Hey. What can I do for you?”

Goldie raised an eyebrow.

“I’m a lesbian.”

“Oh, okay,” Ibrahim said. He stood up straight and deactivated flirting mode. “So, you need something?”

“Yeah, you want to play a prank on Harley or what?”

Vell was keeping his distance for the sake of negotiations, but even he could tell things did not go well at first. Ibrahim seemed offended by the very idea, but he started to come around the more Goldie talked. Vell wondered if she was naturally persuasive, or if this was also part of the universe trying to reassert its prior course. Whichever of the two was happening, it led to Ibrahim agreeing to help. He reluctantly approached Vell and examined him as if meeting him for the first time.

“Anyone ever tell you you know a weirdly high number of lesbians?”

“They tend to congregate,” Vell said.

“Still. How many straight chicks do you know?”

“Well, there’s-” Vell stopped himself right away. He’d been about to say Skye, but Ibrahim would probably not take kindly to a reminder that Vell was dating one of his exes. “Leanne. You never met her, but she’s straight. I’m pretty sure Sarah’s straight too, though obviously I’ve never actually been able to ask. That’s like, one and a half.”

“Not counting my ex,” Ibrahim grunted.

“Not counting your ex,” Vell mumbled. Ibrahim had gone and brought it up himself.

“Oh, don’t get all quiet, man, I’m messing with you,” Ibrahim said. “It’s been months.”

“Uh. You sure?”

“Yeah,” Ibrahim said. “Seriously, it was like two dates. Why would I not be over it?”

“You’d be surprised how people can hold grudges around here,” Vell said. “I bought the last Dr. Pepper out of a vending machine back in first year and some guy is still mad at me about it.”

“You’re joking.”

“No I’m not, he’s right over there,” Vell said, as he pointed across the quad. “Hey Lae!”

“Fuck you, Harlan!”

“See what I mean?”

Ibrahim stared at the offended student for a few seconds. He was no stranger to holding a grudge, but that was just excessive, even by his standards.

“I’m hoping he’ll get over it before we graduate,” Vell said. “But I’m not counting on it.”

Vell led Ibrahim and Goldie to a small laboratory stacked high with textbooks and reference materials on digital ghosts. He gestured to the experimental materials and then shrugged, as he had no idea what the next step was.

“So, uh, you guys just do your thing with the digital ghosts, I guess,” Vell said. “Do you want some food or something, Ibrahim? I already got Goldie some french fries, it’s only fair.”

“Tell him to get me more french fries,” Goldie said.

“You’ve already had like a pound, woman, control yourself,” Vell said. Ibrahim was actually starting to crave french fries now.

“Important question,” Ibrahim said. “Curly or straight cut?”

“Curly, obviously,” Goldie said.

“Right answer. I’ll split some with you.”

“Jesus christ,” Vell said. “Fine, more potatoes it is.”

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

“This is your last serving for the day,” the server at the counter told Vell. “I’m not enabling an addiction.”

“It’s for a friend,” Vell insisted.

“That’s what they all say,” the server sighed.

“I’m not- nevermind,” Vell sighed. Some conversations were lost before they even began. He cut his losses and took the french fries back to the lab. He found Ibrahim right where he’d left him, but Goldie was nowhere to be seen. The question of where she was got answered when Vell heard a closet door open and felt something metallic press against his throat. Having had a knife to (and through) his throat more than once, Vell could easily tell it was just a pen pressing in to his neck.

“Hey Goldie,” Vell said. “What’re you doing?”

“Winning a bet,” Goldie said. She retracted her pen, clicked it, and turned to Ibrahim. “Told you he wouldn’t blink.”

“Man, I figured just as like, a reflex,” Ibrahim said. He withdrew a few dollar bills from his wallet and passed them off to Goldie, who immediately handed half to Vell. He took that as acceptable payment for Goldie’s pretend ambush.

“So you were just hiding in the closet, then?”

“Yeah. Don’t make any jokes about being in the closet,” said known lesbian Goldie.

“I wasn’t going to,” Vell said. He took her hiding in the closet as a good sign. It showed that time really was trying to repeat itself, even if in a convoluted way. He handed over the french fries and appraised the progress the two had made in his brief absence.

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“We’re just getting started, but I think it’s doable,” Ibrahim said, as he watched Vell scan the many documents they had assembled. “We’ll see, though.”

“I believe in you,” Vell said. Confidence was made much easier by the fact that Ibrahim had technically done it once already. “You going to be able to get this wrapped up without an actual haunted phone to practice on?”

“Hard to do things like this just in theory,” Ibrahim said. “I can get you something ninety percent certain, but that other ten percent might be killer.”

He had no idea how right he was.

“I’ll see about getting you a burner phone,” Vell said. “And a burner phone ghost. You two keep up the good work. And please don’t ambush me the next time I come back.”

“I already proved my point,” Goldie said. “But you can bring someone else around and we’ll see.”

“Try Hawke, he seems flinchy.”

“I think I’m going to refrain from jumpscaring my friends, thanks,” Vell said. “I’ll be back later. Goldie has my number if you need anything.”

Vell stepped away, and left the two to their own devices, just as they had been on the first loop. Hopefully it’d be enough to recreate their discovery in time for all hell to break loose.

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

“Alright, try this one,” Samson said. While Harley and Vell pursued alternatives, he and Lee continued to try and brute-force their own solution. So far, their trial-and-error approach had been more error than trial.

“Not going to work,” Lee said. “You haven’t properly encircled the Atusian Sigils.”

“What the fuck are you even talking about? I’ve never had to encircle anything before.”

“You didn’t have a Vyasa tri-sigil before,” Lee said. “You’d completely overwhelm the sigil network.”

Samson scanned his textbooks again, and dug through footnotes and annotations for any notes on the subject. He had to actually jump into a different textbook to see what Lee was talking about.

“Christ, really?” Samson sighed. “Do you have to do this every time you cast a spell?”

“Eh, not entirely,” Lee said. Magic was a complex art, but not usually quite this complex. “It’s the introduction of technology that really messes with things. Computers work on logic, magic works on intention. The overlap gets convoluted.”

The overlap of technology and magic was usually made easier by runes, which could be made to work on similar computer-like logic, but such a system was useless for a large scale exorcism. Vell was still running through various potential ideas in his head as a thought experiment, but nothing ever connected. He was still formulating such a failed idea when he returned to Harley and Lee’s shared dorm.

“Alright, plan C might be working,” Vell said. “Which is good, because Harley just checked in and Plan B is going nowhere. How’s Plan A going?”

“Poorly,” Samson said. “I can’t make heads or tails of this magic shit.”

“And I am hopelessly inept when it comes to computers,” Lee said.

“Well, I kind of work between those lines, sometimes,” Vell said. He had a little time to kill before he had to get back to hunting phone ghosts, so he took a seat. “Maybe I can help.”

“Perhaps. Do you have any idea how to make Gyges Sealing Ritual and a Jabirian Fluctuation apply to internal PCB’s without an overload?”

“I cannot help.”

Vell stood up and left the room without another word. Lee shook her head and got back to work.

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

“Alright, I looked around and could not find a phone ghost,” Vell said, as he got back to Ibrahim’s lab. “Which is probably a good thing, but not for your experiment.”

They were only about two hours away from having more phone ghosts than they knew what to do with, so Vell didn’t stress too much about finding one. He just hoped they’d have something prepared for when the sudden surplus arrived.

“Well that’s rough,” Ibrahim said. The lab had become slightly more organized in Vell’s absence, as Ibrahim and Goldie cleaned up their act. “There’s no real way to know if this is going to work without a test run.”

“Don’t talk like that,” Goldie said. “We’ve done the math like three times. This’ll work.”

“It works in theory,” Ibrahim said. “Lots of stuff works in theory. Like bacon wrapped asparagus.”

“Does that not work?”

“I mean, it tastes good, but the bacon usually just slides right off, and then you’ve just got greasy asparagus,” Ibrahim said. “Just make the bacon and then make the asparagus in the same pan, same end result, way less hassle wrapping the bacon around the stalks.”

“Huh. Maybe I’ll try that next time I get some turkey bacon,” Goldie said.

“Not that I don’t appreciate a good cooking lesson, but can I see what you made?”

Ibrahim handed it over, and Vell promptly realized he had no idea how to make heads or tails of anything he was seeing. He tucked the schematic in his bookbag anyway.

“I have no idea why I asked,” Vell sighed. “Guess I’ll just have to trust you guys got it right.”

“Or you could just not put a ghost in Harley’s phone,” Ibrahim said.

“I could but, uh...that wouldn’t be as funny,” Vell said.

“You people sure are st- persistent,” Ibrahim said.

“Thank you for that, but stubborn also applies,” Vell said. “Anyway, if you’re sure this’ll work, I’ll get out of your hair.”

“Hey, uh, before you go.”

“Yeah?”

“Is Samson doing alright?”

The two twins had barely interacted for the past few weeks, and on the rare occasions they did, it usually involved Samson doing a lot of swearing. Vell, on the other hand, could interact with Samson with slightly less swearing involved. He could still tell Samson was in a generally bad mood, though, and contemplated how best to communicate that with Ibrahim.

“He’s okay,” Vell said. “Still kind of in a bad mood, but not like, cripplingly. Do you want me to say something, like, tell him-”

“It’s probably better if you don’t,” Ibrahim said. “He can be a little slow to come around on this kind of thing.”

Over the past couple of years, Vell had learned that it was often better to be proactive about these sorts of things, but it was Ibrahim’s brother and his call to make. He decided to mind his own business and took his leave, noting, as he left, that Ibrahim and Goldie continued to sit and chat despite their mission being complete. Apparently they’d established a rapport. He made note of the pleasant development before heading back to the lair. They didn’t have long before the phone ghosts struck, and by the time he made it back to the lair, they were just minutes away.

“Any luck, Vell?’

“Yeah, I think we might be good to go,” Vell said. Lee nodded approvingly. Kim, Hawke, and Harley had locked down most of the campus’s dangerous machines, so they were already in a good position.

“We’ve got it taken care of,” Samson said. He slapped a scroll lying on the table triumphantly. “Took a while, but we finally got this thing figured out.”

The arcane sigil Samson was so proud of looked very similar to the one Ibrahim and Goldie had created. From what Vell knew of magic, and of computers, those alterations could drastically affect the way the spell worked.

“Uh, okay, guess we can try that,” Vell said.

“Unless of course you have something better, Vell,” Lee said. She subtly stressed her words in a way that made it very clear she had her own doubts about the ritual she and Samson had put together.

“Well, I did ask around,” Vell said. He took the folded ritual paper out of his pocket and laid it down next to the other one. “This might-”

“You went to Ibrahim?”

“Shit.”

Samson had recognized his brother’s sloppy handwriting in an instant. Goldie had handled most of the arcane transcription, but Ibrahim still did the note-taking.

“You went to fucking Ibrahim?” Samson repeated, more forcefully this time. “Behind my back?”

“He got it the first time,” Lee said sheepishly.

“It was a fluke,” Samson said. “He’s sure as shit not going to get it right twice. Without life or death pressure on him, he’d never actually do real work.”

“He seemed pretty confident,” Vell said. “And, I mean, you’re the one who said the circle worked the first time around. Did he do the same thing or not?”

Samson looked more closely at the sheet of paper. His memory wasn’t perfect, but it looked exactly the same to him.

“Goldie probably did most of the work anyway,” Samson mumbled.

“Samson, is it going to work or not?” Lee said. “We have maybe a minute-”

“Twenty six seconds, actually,” Kim corrected.

“Samson!”

“Just use mine, it’ll work better than his anyway!”

“Samson, no one is doubting your skills, but when preventing the literal apocalypse, it might be better to use proven methods,” Lee said.

“Just do it,” Samson said, handing over his own ritual to Lee.

“Do fucking something, people, my phone’s starting to jump,” Harley said. She nabbed her cellphone out of her pocket and held firmly to it as it began to thrash. Hawke’s phone followed shortly after, and soon every phone in the room was violently possessed. Kim took everyone’s phones and held them firmly in place to avoid any minor injuries, and to make sure nothing went wrong while Lee cast the spell. If she ever got to.

“Here you go,” Samson said, handing over his own magical drawing. “Cast it.”

“Samson, I don’t enjoy pulling rank,” Lee said.

“So don’t,” Samson insisted. “Cast the spell.”

“Samson.”

Vell took Ibrahim’s version of the spell off the table and held it out to Lee. Samson snatched it first.

“Really?”

“Really,” Samson said. He held out his own work towards Lee. “Use the spell that wasn’t made by an idiot.”

“Samson, give me your brother’s spell,” Lee said. “I’m only going to ask once.”

“Then I’ll only tell you no once.”

“Guys?”

“You have something to say, Kim?”

“Well yes,” Kim said. “Firstly, Samson, you’re being a jackass. Second: Look.”

Kim lifted her hands. The phones she had been holding firmly against a table stayed in place, entirely motionless. After a second of curious observation, Harley grabbed her own phone and unlocked it.

“I’m no expert, but this does not seem haunted to me,” Harley said. Everything about her phone was working perfectly, and it wasn’t trying to harm her in any way, which she considered normal. Everyone else grabbed their phones and did a quick check, finding everything to be normal. After scanning through all her most-used apps, Lee weaved through the motions of a quick spell.

“There’s a surplus of magical energy,” Lee said. “Someone else just cast a powerful spell.”

“Who?”

Vell snatched a sheet of paper out of an unsuspecting Samson’s hands, and held up the magical diagram Ibrahim had made.

“Who do you think?”

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

“Vell, how badly did you fuck up?”

The loopers had headed right back to Ibrahim’s lab to see what had happened. As they crossed the campus, they had seen dozens of students curiously examining their phones, but absolutely no one in any danger. Vell found Ibrahim and Goldie right where he’d left them, though the room had been rearranged to accommodate some spellcasting.

“Uh, pretty badly, yeah,” Vell said, unconvincingly. “Thanks for stopping my fuckup.”

Goldie and Ibrahim exchanged a quick look. Vell’s acting skills failed him yet again.

“You knew this was going to happen, huh?”

“No, it was definitely- okay, yeah, sort of,” Vell said. He could see himself digging a deeper hole and decided to quit while he was ahead. “Somebody smarter than me take over.”

Lee, being smarter than most of them, stepped forward.

“It’s a long story,” Lee began, mostly to buy herself more time to think of that long story. Thankfully, Goldie held up a hand to stop her.

“Let me stop you right there,” Goldie said. “Love you guys, big fan of all the stuff you do, not entirely sure I want to be any more involved in it than I already am.”

Goldie was a relative newbie to the looper's circle of allies, but she’d spent enough time with them to know that sometimes she was better off not asking questions. She politely excused herself and left the room, though Ibrahim showed no signs of following her. He scanned the loopers curiously and narrowed his eyes.

“Is this what you’ve been doing the whole time? You know when bad shit’s going to happen and you have to stop it?”

“It’s been pretty obvious the whole time that we’re just trying to help,” Samson said.

“Yeah, but I thought you were just fucking around and doing it like idiots,” Ibrahim protested. “You do shit like haul radioactive isotopes and fight crocodile men, I thought you were insane! You’ve actually known what you’re doing this whole time?”

“That may be a generous assessment,” Harley said. Lee elbowed her in the shoulder.

“We don’t exactly have specific, moment to moment knowledge,” Lee said. “But we have enough information to make somewhat coherent plans.”

“Well...shit. Sorry.”

“Cool, about time,” Samson said. He brushed past his twin brother and left in a huff.

“Sorry about him,” Vell said. It was an odd reversal of circumstances that Samson was now consistently being the jackass of the two.

“Can’t say I don’t deserve it,” Ibrahim shrugged.

“I can, actually,” Lee said.

The leader of the loopers set off after Samson with a determined stride. It wasn’t hard to find him, or catch up with him, as Samson sulked his way across campus.

“Samson!”

Even from behind, Lee could tell Samson was rolling his eyes as he ignored her and continued walking. That little touch of disrespect officially set Lee over the edge. She clenched her fist, and a vicelike grip of magic snatched Samson where he stood, and held him in place until Lee caught up to him. She spun him around to face her direction and poked Samson in the forehead.

“I have had enough of your attitude lately, Samson,” Lee said. “You’ve been acting like a child for weeks. Did you break your brain when you broke your nose?”

Lee stopped for a second.

“Wait, actually, did we get you checked for a concussion?” she wondered. “Sometimes I forget that injuries can have long-term consequences.”

“I’m fine, Lee, the doctors checked me out,” Samson said. “And why the hell are you the one on my case about this? You of all people should know how shit family can be.”

“I do know. And that’s...ugh. Come with me.”

She phrased it as a request, but Samson did not have much of a choice. Lee magically moved him through the air and then plopped him down on a bench before taking a seat right next to him.

“Did you know my family had a dog when I was a child?”

Samson turned and stared at her for a moment.

“Are you sure you aren’t the one with a concussion? How is that relevant?”

“It’s an anecdote that relates to a point I’m trying to make,” Lee said. “Just sit and listen for a while. My parents had an annoying, aggressive little beagle, and in spite of everything, in spite of who they were, I think that beagle was the only thing either of them ever genuinely loved.”

Including their own daughter, Lee thought to herself for a single bitter moment. But that was all in the past.

“His name was Chippy, and both my parents took excellent care of him. Never needed anyone to remind them to feed him, clip his nails, take him to the vet, anything. Even when they weren’t available to do it themselves, they made sure to have one of their employees do it for them. No matter how many times Chippy bit or barked or chewed on expensive furniture, they never lost their patience or mistreated him in any way, and when he died they both cried as hard as they could and built him a little monument in the backyard of their mansion.”

Samson was really starting to wonder where Lee was going with this “anecdote”.

“I’m not saying this to imply they were good people, on any level,” Lee said. “Only to say that there was some goodness in them, however dwarfed it was by the rest of their evil. They were capable of love, and kindness, and compassion. And I was well aware of that when I made the decision to cut them out of my life.”

The period of somber reflection ended, and Lee crossed her arms angrily and faced Samson.

“You, on the other hand, seem content to treat this matter with your brother as a simple matter of black and white, good twin and bad twin, smart one and stupid one,” Lee said. “Which is a profoundly childish mindset for someone of your age to have.”

Lee stood, adjusted her skirt, and turned on her heel to stare down at Samson.

“Human beings are complicated,” Lee said. “Your brother has bad qualities and good ones, as do you. As does everyone. Perhaps you spent too long refusing to see the bad in your brother, but now you refuse to see the good. And that’s just as foolish.”

With a final huff of disapproval, Lee stood up and walked off, leaving Samson to contemplate his own path forward. While she wanted to push him into having more patience with his brother, she knew that such a push could have the exact opposite effect. Sometimes people had to reach the right conclusions on their own. She had faith Samson would come up with the answer he needed. He wasn’t all bad.

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

In retrospect, Ibrahim wondered if Goldie’s early exit hadn’t been as much about avoiding the cleanup as anything else. He shuffled through the paperwork lying around the room, gathering what was useful and throwing away everything that wasn’t. Even he was shocked at how much junk paper there was. Getting that ritual right had required a lot of trial and error.

In spite of the overwhelming paperwork, he was still a little offended when someone walked up and snatched a sheet of paper right out of his hands. He looked up, ready with a snippy comment, and found Samson staring at the diagram. A few thoughts on what to say raced through Ibrahim’s head, but he realized they were all bad and said none of them. Samson spoke first.

“So I see you got caught up on that Jabririan-whatever thingy too,” Samson said.

“I did like eight versions of the thing and I still don’t get it,” Ibrahim said. “Do you think magic actually has all those rules, or are all those wizards just fucking with us?”

“I think they’re serious,” Samson said. “About most things, at least. I’m still not sure about the Annus Clause.”

“Yeah, that’s definitely made up.”

Supposedly there was a yearly limit on mages being able to perform a certain kind of magical ritual, but the twins shared a suspicion that it was some kind of joke about the word “Annus”. The two exchanged quick conspiratorial nods about their shared suspicions, and then fell silent.

“So. You want to compare notes?”

“Sure.”

“Cool.”