"Well, people never really change for the most part," Camille said, shrugging off the comment by her friend.

"True, but that doesn't mean I can't be happy about it anyway."

Imparting those words in her mind, Camille suspected Morgan wished to move on. Therefore, with a final nod, Morgan cast a glance at the wall. Though the two said nothing, Camille could infer what it was that her friend was thinking. Having looked at the wall for herself, Camille saw that Morgan's focus was on a small but significant circle known as a clock.

Huh, damn. Surprised and yet predicting as much at the same time, Camille sighed at her discovery.

By all means, it was getting awfully late. Gone in the blink of an eye, it seemed what remained of precious time together would soon be naught but a memory. Time passed faster when in good company, that much Camille understood. So, with much reluctance, she prepared herself to say her goodbyes. Intercepted partway through her contemplation however, was a interjection by Morgan,

"Do you mind if I stay the night?" She proposed, her expression serious.

"Oh." Camille didn't expect her to ask that. But, all things considered, it didn't seem so bad an idea either. They weren't kids anymore. Morgan was a fully functional self-sustaining being, so it wasn't as if she needed to pamper her or anything. The only question, therefore, was why her friend seemed so grim about it.

"Is there something bothering you?"

An assumption motivated by the discomfort in Morgan's overall demeanour, Camille found it to be all very strange. She recalled strikingly that such stern expressions were far and between, and were bestowed upon only the most direst circumstances. Yet, what dire circumstances could have demanded of Morgan so?

"Well, there's been quite a few murders recently, so I'd rather stay on the safe side, to be honest." Morgan remarked, her voice perfectly measured.

Taking a moment to contemplate, Camille supposed the fear was natural. While the statistical likelihood of murder was extremely low, Camille also understood the innate drive and desire to live. Therefore, while logic and emotion were in active contradiction, it wasn't as if Morgan's judgement was an act of lunacy. If her friend wanted to feel safe, who was Camille to judge? After all, it wasn't as if her own grand goals were formulated from some great product of dialectics either.

Maybe because their encounter had softened her, or maybe because she was just delighted at her ability, Camille spoke with a more compassionate tone than before.

"Alrighty then, why not."

Reacting with a nod of her head and her left hand on her hip, Morgan gave a triumphant smile.

Thinking over why this was the case, Camille watched Morgan prepare to settle herself.

With only a single room to choose from, Camille decided to give it to her friend. Though opposed by much politeness and courtesy, Camille eventually persuaded Morgan.

If anything, sleeping on the sofa was proof of her strength and ability to adapt to new situations.

Though Camille wasn't really sure if that was the truth, or merely what she told herself, it mattered little in the end.

At the end of the day, she was confined to the sofa, and that was all there was to it.

That eventful evening which had come to pass, now left Camille to her lonesome. Tucked comfortably beneath a woolen blanket, Camille's mind now freed from any social obligations or dialogue, caused her to think back on their conversation from earlier.

Murders, huh? Sullen as that whole affair was, Camille was mildly amused that she was unaware that it was even a thing. Though ignorance was never something to be proud of, that didn't mean she couldn't find humour from it. To be so closed off and stuck in games that she wasn't even aware of murders of all things?

Ah, video games and their immersion...

Having largely consumed media focused on gaming and nothing else as of late, a lot of the current geopolitical affairs and their developments were lost on her. Now that she had been thrust into the real world, the fate of confronting what happened around her could no longer be avoided.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

Both a chance to stay informed and to improve herself, she set upon the task of understanding the whole thing.

On her smartphone, Camille typed in the keywords that would pertain to the murders in her city. In the time of less than a second, dozens of articles appeared. It was to be expected, of course, but it still fascinated her even so.

Camille scrolled and read through several articles.

"The Lunatic Murders, hm." That was the umbrella term used to describe this series of violent and demented crimes. Much in line with its name, it as a matter of fact, did seem to come from, well, absolute madmen.

Paying no heed to age, sex, or ethnicity, it seemed that anyone who so much as breathed was a potential victim. A warning of sensitive imagery on her screen, Camille inquired further with her eyes. Attempting to make out what must have been maimed corpses through censored pixels, she felt her interest was piqued. While the articles had spoken of unnatural causes of death, the specificity of them was left undiscussed. Therefore, with nothing better to do, Camille figured that she might as well conduct her own investigation into the matter.

Her thumb tapped against the pixelated image.

"..."

There wasn't much reaction from her. Gore and death weren't exactly the rarities they used to be, after all. In an era where war and strife were rampant, Camille felt that no one could blame her for being undisturbed.

Torn limb from limb, drained of all blood, decapitated, or even tortured... All deaths of truly grisly proportions, Camille could only sigh. Wondering what it was that motivated the individuals to such actions, her mind began to formulate theories.

Could it be demons? That outcome seemed possible. Not only were they quite common in this day and age, but such horrendous acts did seem in line for some of them. But, some things wouldn't add up if it was really demons perpetrating the crimes.

If that were the case, then the officials wouldn't describe it as a murder but rather more on the lines of a 'natural disaster.' Not only that, but it wasn't just murders that were on the rise either. Robberies, arson, and overall destruction, while being less featured on the news, were increasing too.

Camille gave a disappointed sigh.

Subconsciously, she knew that she wanted to believe that it wasn't people who committed these acts. Demons, unlike humans or whatnot, operated much more on instinct. As such, the status bestowed upon them was more similar to that of animals. Animals who could not control their drive and instinct, any actions they committed were viewed as an occurrence of nature. But humans were held to a higher standard, weren't they?

A standard of logic and intuition above all, their very existence was viewed through that of a bias. Condemned, judged, and deemed with the trait known as 'evil,' the similarities between her and her fellow men were much more prominent than some demonic entity. As such, it only served to unnerve her further, when she realized that it was possibly another human, like her committing these acts.

Sitting quietly, Camille buried her mind further in those thoughts. In the end, what even constitutes evil? If evil is defined as that which is immoral, selfish, or harms others, then is not everyone evil? Whether it be slave labor, the consumption of animals, or underpaid wages, does the average person not depend on suffering and unjust treatment of others? Does that mean that Morgan was evil too, just for living?

Maybe that last part was a bit too far.

Jeez, that's weird to think about. Camille pushed that thought as far from her head as possible. Try as she did, viewing Morgan as something that was evil or as vile as a serial killer was a stretch even for her. In her attempt to be objective, Camille envisioned Morgan in a vacuum. A vacuum as free as possible from the bias of her own morals or beliefs. A few minutes passed.

And after a while of deep scrutiny, she reached an answer.

I mean, seriously, evil Morgan? Was the conclusion she reached. There was no way she could see her friend as anything but well-intentioned. Hell, Camille didn't even suppose that she had the will to kill someone in self-defense. And so, figuring that putting Morgan under the same umbrella term that was 'evil' with serial killers was dumb as hell, Camille moved on.

In the end, Camille decided that she was overthinking it.

Why the hell am I debating this anyway? Truth be told, even she was unsure. Out of no reason other than frustration at why she was unaware, Camille then rolled her eyes. Evil or good, what difference did it make? Did those abstract concepts have such bearing on her own concept of self and being?

Camille folded up at that thought. Certain that there was something fundamentally different between her and those people, she drew a deep breath. Inhaled all the winter air she could. Then, with another action, let it all out. Camille as a result, let a smile take over her face. So simple and yet so effective, just like that, the unease in her body was gone. Whether or not there was a correlation between her abilities, personality, or nature and them could be a question for another day. Ready to stand up and spend the remainder of her night training, her right hand was about to lift her up, when she got yet another notification.

Quest: Recollect

Reward: Sleep tonight. Level up.

That's awfully convenient. It seemed that as unproductive as sleep was, that there was no escaping it. For even her new godlike abilities could not save her from the dreaded sleep leveling, for some weird, unspecified reason... Well, on the bright side, she would finally level up, and who knows? Maybe she'd even get a well-rested modifier or something. So, with a final sigh of reluctance, Camille put her phone to the side. Prepared for sleep, she then flipped the light switch off.