"You..." My voice cut out, muted by the System. I never got the chance to ask Terre, You can see the real System screen?

Why not? If he could see what color it was, why couldn't I talk to him about it? I mean, no one has ever seen the correct color of my screen. Not Healer Hudgens, not Uncle. So why could Terre Noble?

I tilted my head, thinking. How can I talk to him without triggering the System's mute button? "What color is my screen?" I asked slowly, taking the roundabout way. When I asked the healer that gave me my Guide, she said blue. Just like everyone else's.

"Teal," Terre said, just as perplexed as me.

"Why can you ..." I dropped the sentence before the System kicked in. Hopefully he understood: Why can you see it?

He paused then waved his free hand. A Guide screen popped up in front of him. A teal Guide screen. "You would have noticed eventually," he explained with a shrug.

The rest of the smoky magic absorbed into the energy crystal. As soon as it did, the dirty feeling in my chest lessened and Levi relaxed. The tainted energy crystal disappeared and Terre tucked his thumbs into his belt as he turned and faced me head on.

My gaze, however, was glued to the Guide screen in front of him. Oh my god, there were other people with teal screens like me! "Do you have a --" My words cut off sharply, via the System. I scowled. Seriously!? I just wanted to have a conversation with him!

But seriously, did he have a System like me? Is that why I couldn't see his level? How long has he had one? He's been a Hunter for a lot longer than me, I just didn't know how long. Oh, maybe he knew why the System came to me to begin with! A million questions flashed through my mind, snowballing on each other until I was ready to burst. The biggest question was, was the System going to let me ask them?

Terre gave a long sigh, looking even more perplexed, and leaned on his hip. "I can't tell you that." There was no room for persuasion in his even tone. He waved his hand and his screen disappeared.

My racing mind screeched to halt, all my questions washing away like a tide. "What? Why not?"

His piercing gaze locked on mine. "Because, we aren't the same." Just like the first time we met, although his expression was polite, there was an air of alienation around him.

My chest tightened painfully. For the last eight years, I lived understanding that I wasn't like everyone else. It had nothing to do with people’s desire to take advantage of my family business, that was its own deal. No, it had to do with how I was the only one in my peer group regularly visiting psychiatrists. Broken families were common nowadays, but I was the only one who watched their mother die – and couldn’t remember it. The rest of my friends laughed and played freely, showing whatever emotion they felt. They weren't bogged down with the pressure of wondering if their actions would trigger their family's trauma. They didn’t have to hide behind a smile, pretending that everything was okay when it wasn’t. No matter how I tried to fit in, there was always a wall between me and their happy lives. I loved my family, but that same wall stood between me and them.

And when I became a Hunter, a different wall stood in the way of me peacefully integrating into the society. A wall with a huge 'E' sprawled across. And as helpful as the System was, it was also something that separated me from the rest. Not just because it made me unique compared to other Hunters, what with leveling up and suddenly changing from a melee to a mage. The System literally forced me to keep silent about it all.

Now, the first time, I found someone that was more like me than anyone else. Someone who possibly had a System, and he slammed a wall down immediately?

I frowned and stepped forward. "How do you know we aren't the same?" I know that being a Hunter was a lonely career, as the Laramie fiasco so blatantly showed me. It wasn't like I expected to become attached at the hip with Terre, I just wanted to learn more about the System and what it was doing to me. Was that really too much to ask for?

Terre simply held out his hand. As he did, a thick pool of mist wrapped around it, spinning like a hurricane.

Instinctively, I flinched back.

Terre lowered his hand, as if that was all the answer he needed.

He was really going to reject me just because we didn't have the same magic? Really? Usually Hunters looked for a partner with a different skill set, so they weren’t at a total disadvantage against a certain type of monster. Anger burned in me, but I didn't have anywhere to vent it. It's not like I could force Terre to accept me. I glanced at Levi, fully understanding the hopeless chagrin he felt when Terre put him in time out.

A hurricane brewed in my chest. If I was stronger, I could make Terre tell me about the System. He shut me down now, but someday I was going to make him unable to ignore me. Patience, I told myself. I spent years waiting, standing still. I could hold my temper for a little longer, until I was on equal standing and I could make him answer my question.

My fingers curled into fist and I looked to the side, irritated at myself. There wasn't any reason to get this worked up. I could figure out the System on my own. It was mine, and the reward when I got to level fifty was mine. It didn't have anything to do with Terre. He was right, just because we both had a System, it didn't make us partners. He was Uncle's friend, not mine.

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Terre was still inspecting me, as if waiting for me to object.

I let him down by turning around and walking towards the mess of zombie parts.

"Where are you going?" he asked, trailing behind in a leisurely pace. Then again, his legs were so much longer than mine that his 'leisurely pace' still out-distanced mine. He caught up almost instantly.

I glanced at him, trying to decide how friendly I should be to him. He just totally shot me down, should I really just turn around and be pals? "I'm going to look at the zombie's armor," I explained in a tight voice.

He blinked, obviously not expecting that. "Why? There’s more sanitary loot you can find elsewhere."

He wasn't the only one grossed out. Levi dropped to the ground and slithered away, keeping his mouth so tightly shut that his tongue didn't pop out. He found a spot a fair distance away and curled up to watch me. As he did, he sent me multiple images of fresh dead monsters that were safe to eat, as well as swimming through a lake and cleansing his body. It's nice to know that after not washing for multiple days, I was finally considered dirty in his mind by playing with decaying arms.

"I'm not digging for loot." Although there were probably plenty of Hunters that would pick through zombie bodies. I dropped down beside an arm, the bone and rotting flesh sticking out of a battered gauntlet. I put my gloves and arm bracers away and pulled on some latex gloves. "As long as the armor was bought through legal means — and sometimes even if it went through the black market — there's a way to identify who owned the armor." Since he only gave me half an explanation, that's all I left him with.

Sadly, he wasn't as ignorant as I was. "You want to identify the zombies' bodies?" Now he sounded downright baffled. "Why?"

I picked up the arm. As soon as I touched it, a System screen popped up, asking if I wanted to convert the monster into item orbs. But if I did that, the armor might disappear with the corpse, which would be counterproductive. I waved away the screen and examined the grody gauntlet, looking for a way to unlatch it. "Before they were zombies, they were human."

Occasionally, true monsters zombies popped up; moving skeletons that came into being by some unholy way. Scientists believed they were just like the monsters, remnants left on Earth when the Gates — the whole reason the monsters appeared in the first place — disappeared. But most of the zombies were once human or Hunters. Some unlucky sap that was caught by an undead monster — or monster plant — and changed them into a slave. For the most part, the two kinds of zombies were very similar, but there was a glaring difference. The zombies that were once human — less a fire was involved — wore the Earth clothes they wore when they changed.

Which is why I knew these zombies had been human.

"Since they used to be human," I reasoned, pulling open the gauntlet and dumping the decaying arm out. "Which means they used to have a family."

I'd hate it if my family ever learned that I became a zombie, but I'd also want them to know that I was dead, instead of hanging on to a sliver of hope that I might turn up one day. Everyone assumed that if a person disappeared in the wilds, they were gone for good, but sometimes a person couldn't accept that. Those were usually the ones that went insane with grief. A sad ending for the loved one of an unfortunate victim. At least with the armor, the family could hold a proper funeral.

"Most Hunters don't think like that," Terre commented.

My mouth kicked on the side with a bitter smile. "Yeah, I know. But if I was like them," I motioned to the zombie bodies, "I hope someone would do me the favor of returning my armor to my family. Minus the gory details."

Terre breathed a shallow laugh. He obviously didn't think it would happen either. A teal screen popped up in front of him. He glanced at it, then turned away, lifted his hands and started tapping on the screen, obviously messaging someone back and forth.

I left Terre to his own devices, ignored all the hints Levi sent informing me that I needed a bath, and examined the gauntlet. Sure, it was a mess, but that wasn't what distracted me. I knew a lot about armor, both from lessons and visiting multiple armor conventions over the years that dad called a 'family vacation.' I’d seen a lot of different styles. Because traveling was still difficult and America was so big, each region picked up their own habits and techniques. Kinda like language accents. And it's not like weapon-smiths were fast food restaurants. Once they were established in a place, that's usually where they stayed for life. They didn't move often, especially if they got tangled up with a guild.

Over the years, I learned competitor habits, so I could usually pick out where a piece of armor was from. I had to, because Hunters often traded in their old gear to discount the new shiny ones. If I didn't know my stuff, the shop would get scammed a million times over. I couldn't even count the times a Hunter claimed his battered piece of junk was a master's work, trying to negotiate an outlandish price. So annoying.

But I didn't know this armor style. I mean, there was nothing wrong with it. It was soundly built and sturdy, though obviously not the best quality. It also lacked the armorer's signature or symbol. Weird. I went over the list of competitors in the area, mentally comparing their trademark styles to the gauntlet in my hand. And came up blank.

Confused, I looked at the man behind me. The one that wore armor from an unknown armorer, just like the one I held. "Where is your armor from?"

Terre blinked and looked up from the messages. "Pardon?"

I rocked back on my heels and motioned to his body. "Who made your armor? I don't recognize the maker. And I don't know this maker either." I waved the gross gauntlet. It was a far cry from the masterpiece of black leather and studded steel that Terre wore, but they did have something in common — I didn't know where they came from. "Maybe they come from the same place."

Terre flicked a glance at the gauntlet then laughed softly. "No, they don't. The creator of my armor has only made three sets of armor, and that's not one." Genuine humor and affection flashed across his face. "Honestly, she might get huffy just at the suggestion."

My eyes brightened. "Who is she?"

A quiet teasing gleam in his two-toned eyes. "My nanny."

I scowled at him. "That doesn't help."

He shrugged. "She's too busy to socialize, so she prefers to stay anonymous."

I hummed under my breath. "Is everyone you associate with like that?" Trying to get information on the Nobles is like trying to catch water in a net. Impossible.

He hummed under his breath, but didn't contradict me.

*****