Memoirs of a RAFian

[Cloak]

New chapter.
 

CHAPTER FIFTEEN:
New Boy Toys

Success!

Mercer had gotten himself a new host. It was a male, fortunately enough, and one roughly twenty Earth years old or so. It called itself "Mark Smith" and its comrades were fellow interns that called themselves "Randy Taylor" and "Zack Bryan". This human wore a black shirt, black slacks, and black loafers, and despite being the youngest of the three, he was actually the second tallest. Mercer almost burst out laughing with joy, as he didn't hear this human whining or bemoaning or raging or anything of that nature in his head. That would be the brainworm side of his new physiology. Yet, he could still access this human's memories. Every joyous memory, every fearful memory, every sad memory, every disgusting memory, every angry moment felt. They were all open to him. Merser could see all of his angry moments, his obsessive, greedy moments, his terrors and fearful moments, his courageous moments, his hopeful moments, his compassionate moments, his moments of love, his moments of humiliation . . . they were all nothing more than YouTube videos for him to click on and view at his leisure. It was his Yeerk side that allowed this.

"Mark, what's the matter with you?" Randy said, looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Nothing," Merser said, in perfect mimicry of Mark's mannerisms, disposition, and inflection. He kept it from showing on Mark's face, but Merser felt elated. He could impersonate any host he decided to take. He could take any host he wanted, and blend in as them as seemlessly as if he were a Yeerk, but without any of the drawbacks and weaknesses of such. He could be anyone that he wanted, without having to abandon the body every so often to feed, having to worry about restrain the host until he had finished feeding. He wouldn't have to leave until he wanted to. "Nothing at all."

Merser could tell that this word choice made Randy feel creeped out, but he didn't suspect. Instead, Randy was annoyed because he saw it as Mark trying to creep him out, as a joke. Brad paid no attention as he investigated the broken box, perplexed. Then he gathered up the box and the empty injector -- a makeshift syringe -- and carried them out of the room. Merser was just fighting the urge to smile as broadly and openly as the Joker. He was just filled with such elation and excitement. He was no longer bound to the limitations of a Yeerk! No other Yeerk would know this freedom! Granted, he would never be able to reproduce, but no other Yeerk would have him and that would kill him. Besides, he had no idea if the defect that prevented him from metabolizing Kadronna would have made him effectively infertile, so to speak.

"Mark, stop it." Randy demanded. "It's not funny anymore. It wasn't funny to begin with."

Using Mark's eyes and ears, Merser saw that the two were alone. He wanted to try something, and Randy would be the perfect test subject. Using Mark's arms, he forced the smaller Randy (and second-eldest of the trio) to a wall, and, before he could protest, Mark's eye rolled into the back of his head, horror movie style, and he exited part way from Mark's mouth and oral cavity. Randy, at first, thought this was an elaborate prank. But then his fear took over and he was about to scream when Merser dived in, taking Randy for his own. He immediately stifled Randy's scream as he took control and as Mark's body slumped to the floor unconscious.

"That was, indeed, easier," he smiled, having spoken in Randy's voice.

Mark was quick to regain consciousness, as Brad came in demanding to know what happened. He was the oldest of the lot, as well as the one who acted the most responsible. Merser hadn't really considered an alibi, but he quickly improvised using Randy's knowledge, memories, and thoughts (which had been suspended and silenced for the moment).

"I told you to stop with your spooky-spooky sci-fi crap," he said, Randy's voice issuing naturally from his new vocal cords. "I asked nicely, Mark. But you had to push and push and push."

"I don't remember doing --"

"The hell you don't!" Merser said, finding it easy to manufacture the false anger which looked very legitimate to those on the outside. Merser himself wasn't angry, of course, but he was very convincing. "You're always doing this, Mark. And I'm sick of it."

"I'm sure that I didn't do --'

"Stop denying it, Mark!" Merser said, smiling inwardly. He was enjoying this. "You know what you did!"

"Whoa, whoa," Brad said, hands up in a placating manner. "Let's just all calm down."

"Yes," came a slow voice, "let's calm down. And answer a few questions."

[Cloak]

Gonna try to post another chapter before I walk to work. I'm working two double shifts this weekend, so I will more than likely be too exhausted to post on the weekend. Maybe even Monday.

New chapter.
 

CHAPTER SIXTEEN:
Facade Slipping

"What? Who said that?" "Randy" said, almost letting the mask slip.

"I did," Cloak said, stepping into the light. It was not unlike when Beast was introduced to Belle in "Beauty and the Beast" animated movie. Brad and Mark reacted with shock, with "Randy's" reaction being more subdued. Merser recognized Cloak from that boy's memory. Dickie McGeezax's memory. He was a real fanboy of them, despite having many misconceptions about them. "Merser, if you're here, then you know me. Or, at least, you think you do."

Merser kept Randy's face from betraying his facade. He couldn't give up his fun so quickly. He made it contort in fear to match the other two, as this was a rather intimidating introduction to Cloak. And Cloak, being about eight feet tall, towered over the three interns. The three spoke at the same time.

"Who are you?" "Randy" said, while the other two asked, fearfully, "What are you?"

Cloak took mental note of this discrepancy, but chose not to comment on it, for the moment. It wasn't enough evidence to make any conclusions.

"My name is unpronounceable to Dwellers," Cloak said, "so just call me Cloak."

The three said nothing, but it did not seem that it occurred to them to flee. Cloak could not tell if it was from fascination or fear. The Realm Walker wasn't sure if he liked being feared, even though he used it a lot, it seemed, as an intimidation tactic. To his right, Myitt stepped into the light and, to his left, Yarin did the same. Cloak cast a sidelong, cursory glance at the Nyac.

"The short one," he said, answering Cloak's unasked question. He was clearly identifying the one that Merser had infected.

"He didn't waste time at all, did he?" Myitt said. Her tone colder than Cloak had ever heard from her. Perhaps she took Merser's actions personally? No matter. It wasn't important at this time.

"Oh! You mean me?!" Merser said, feigning surprise. "What are you going to do to me?!"

"We won't let you hurt him!" Brad declared.

"Speak for yourself," Mark said. Apparently, he took umbrage at "Randy" yelling at him earlier.

"MARK!" Brad scolded.

"We have no intention on harming you friend," Cloak said, "we're after the endoparasite in his head that has been running rampant, and causing harm to others."

"Endoparasite? I don't have any parasites!"

"There was that time in Tijuana, Randy, that --"

"Shut up, Mark! I told you that in confidence!" "Randy" said. Merser had called up the memory, as if using the YouTube search bar, and skimmed it.

"You're not fooling us, Merser," Yarin said. Cloak noticed that "Randy" flinched at the name, that went unnoticed by his fellows. This confirmed it in Cloak's eyes. "I am a telepath. And your thoughts are not shielded. The real Randy's mind has been suspended for the duration of your occupation. Just like the brief span of unconsciousness that one there, Mark Smith, had experienced when he was your first host."

Mark's eyes widened as he moved away from Randy, seeing him like a monster now.

"Mark, you traitorous piece of --" "Randy" said, uttering a human curse, "Someone with NO EVIDENCE accuses me of something and you IMMEDIATELY abandon me?!"

"I did black out for like fifteen minutes to a half hour," Mark said, looking at Randy very differently, "I'd hardly call that 'no evidence'."

"It's flimsy evidence, at best!" "Randy" said, the mask, the facade, was starting to drop and Merser hadn't even noticed. "Not you, too, Brad!!"

Now Brad went over to Mark, seeing this type of behavior out of character for Randy. The intonation, word choice, and infliction was different from what the real Randy would use. Not to mention that Randy would have never been this hostile, this aggressive about anything. Even if he was fed up.

"They're LYING, guys!!"

"Why?" Brad asked. "What possible reason would they have to lie to us?"

"Like I know?!"

"Such a stirring argument," Yarin said, dryly, "but I think I can settle this. Randy's mind has been rendered unconscious by Merser's occupation. There is, perhaps, an easier way to settle this."

"What the hell are you talking about?" "Randy" said. Merser wasn't having so much fun anymore. It wasn't fun when the mask was being forced off.

"I'll just make the real Randy awake again," Yarin said, knowing precisely that Merser would be absolutely adverse to this. "I'll simply telepathically nudge him back to consciousness."

And like that, the mask was torn off and threw aside, Merser now broke his pretend and spoke openly, "NO!! No, you will not! I went through all this trouble so I didn't have to deal with the whining, the complaining, the sobbing, and all of the other crap that these humans do when they are infested and not broken down!"

Then Merser realized that his outburst outted him, and he hastily tried to play it off. "I mean, that's what I would say if any of that was true. I mean, it's the rhetoric that makes . . . oh, forget it. Yeah, I'm a parasite and I control this human. So what? There's nothing you can do about it! I don't have to leave his body unless I want to."

[Cloak]

There. Probably shouldn't expect a chapter tomorrow or the day after. Don't hold me to that though, if I've enough energy, I might drop a chapter or two. Depends on my stamina, I guess.

New chapter.
 

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN:
Talky Talky Bits

"And I don't want to leave this body, right now." Merser said, with Randy's voice, mouth, and tongue. He was now speaking very openly about not being Randy. These RAFians had ruined his fun on that account.

"Perhaps that is true," Cloak said. "But in your outburst, you mistakenly gave us a weapon."

"What are you talking about?" he sneered, in a very not-Randy way.

"More on that later," Cloak said, ignoring what Merser had just said. "The more pressing matter is that your days are numbered."

"Is that a threat?" he growled, sounding more animal than human.

"No," Myitt said, "my god, Merser, you're so stupid."

"Your 'god'? Really, Myitt?" he said, narrowing Randy's eyes, wearing a very condescending look on his face. "Yes, Myitt, I know who you are. You're one of those Yeerks who have human pets for hosts. Yeerks who play nicey-nice with them. How pathetic."

"Lame attempt at strawmanning," Myitt replied easily. Tara actually spoke in unison, but only Yarin could "hear" her. "You're so stupid, Merser. You subjected yourself to a serum that you slapped together and you don't even know what the possible side effects are. You're so stupid and so reckless."

Merser made Randy laugh. "You've talked with that McGeezax loser, I see! The stupid human geneticist didn't know what he was talking about. He was only useful for his access to this place. He thought he knew more than he actually did, the pompous fool."

"Glass house, much?" Yarin said, rolling all six of his eyes. "I've had a look at the remnants, Merser. I can confirm that the substance was blatantly unstable. Not in that it would explode. More like that it would make you explode, as if you were touched by that 'Fist of the North Star' guy. Kenshiro, or something. You may not have very long at all."

"Preposterous," he made Randy snort.

"Don't be so hasty," Cloak said, "if you're still inside this young human's head when you genetically detonate -- and apparently that's a thing in this realm -- you could cause severe neurological damage to him. If you have any compassion within you, you need to exit him. Then, perhaps, we could save y--"

Merser raised one of Randy's hand, and turned his head to the side, "Save me from nothing. I will not go back. I will not be fully Yeerk again. I will not take over a pet body. I won't compromise."

"You must!" Myitt interjected. "For once in your miserable life, Merser, care about someone other than yourself!"

"Compassion is for the worthless and the weak," Merser said, folding Randy's arms accross his chest. "Assuming what you say is even true -- and there isn't the remotest chance that you are, my calculations were flawless -- why would I care to spare this human's life? What is he to me? He's nothing more than a chassis for me to drive, a costume for me to wear and discard when I'm done with him. And eventually the novelty will wear off, or he would come across some personal or professional problem that I'd rather not deal with. Then I'd cast him aside like the husk he is."

"I think I've found someone even more selfish than . . ." Cloak said to himself, before shaking his head, and the thought from his mind. "Merser, you cannot do that. If you have any decency within you whatsoever, you will --"

"'Decency'? Just another tool that smart beings like myself use to manipulate others." Merser said dismissively.

Cloak considered using "Expellicorpus", but that was for spectral possession mostly. If he used it on Merser and Randy, he might cause harm to Randy. Harm that the human would not appreciate. They had to find another way to evict him.

"He'll be obstinate no matter what we say," Yarin said, looking at Cloak. Then he looked at Randy (Merser could not be seen, in the physical sense), and addressed him. "I told you that I could awaken Randy from his slumbering stupor. And I know that's something that you cannot abide. So, I give you one more chance. Extricate yourself from his brain and body, and surrender yourself. Or else."

"Make me."

Yarin shut all six of his eyes.

[Cloak]

New chapter.
 

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN:
Extrication

"What are you doing?" Merser demanded, seemingly to refuse to let go of his beliefs that the RAFians couldn't help but find untenable.

"I've told you what I intend to do," Yarin said, all six of his eyes still closed.

Merser could feel -- could actually feel -- Randy's consciousness starting to rouse. Struggling to waken. Merser quickly lost his ****iness, his arrogance, his confidence in his security, his assurance that he held all the cards. He didn't want this human's native mind to waken. He didn't want to deal with this. He didn't want to hear the insufferable whining, the angry hostility, the incessant sniveling, the annoying bawling . . . he had no interest in any of it.

"Stop it!" Merser said, holding Randy's head.

"What are you doing to him?" Brad demanded.

"Waking up the real Randy," Yarin said, simply.

Brad and Mark only had a vague clue as to what that meant, but queried no further on the subject. They seemed to have contented themselves to being bystanders, witnesses to all this. Perhaps they felt that they were obligated to bear witness to this. Whatever the reason, they stayed. They didn't run away and abandon their friend and fellow intern, Randy. That was commendable, to be fair.

"You can't make me leave," Merser said, arcing Randy's fingers on his head. He was still struggling to see if he could silence Randy. "I'll . . . I'll kill him before I do."

"With what? You haven't anything near you with which to do so." Cloak pointed out, bluntly and blandly. "And I will remove anything from your proximity that you try."

"You . . . can't . . . make . . . me . . ."

"'Leave', yes, yes. You've made that abundantly clear," Myitt said, scathingly. "But Yarin's gonna make you leave of your own accord. You can't suppress the human boy forever."

Merser said nothing, as he was mulling over all of his options. He could obstinately stay in, but then the telepath over there would not let up. He could pretend that he was Randy again, that he left his body unnoticed, but then the telepath would out him again. He could leave, but he wasn't bound to leave through his ear, as he did as a Yeerk. But he could leave unnoticed by these RAFians -- he remembered them from the McGeezax boy's mind and memory. But that was giving these RAFians exactly what they wanted. But that was probably the most likely scenario to get him out of this situation.

While Merser was mulling this over, he seemingly was unaware that Randy had stopped rousing, that he had fallen back to unconsciousness. He was too focused on escaping these RAFians, and maintaining his control over Randy, that he wasn't aware that Yarin's telepathic target had shifted. He was completely unaware that he was being subtly and secretly nudged to his decision, telepathically.

Perhaps he could make a commotion and use that as a distraction to leave Randy unnoticed and disappear. To disappear and take another host -- preferably male, just so he could use the pronouns -- and not ever be bothered by the likes of these twits. He would have to lay low for a while. He wouldn't be able to stay in a host body for very long, because he wouldn't want to arouse their attention. He would have to be very careful for a long time, until he was sure the heat was off. He would have to make sure not to leave a trail this time. He should have left the lab immediately when he was inside Mark. Then he should have taken a host body when he was well away from here and unnoticed.

He pretended to have a heart attack -- despite the fact Randy was too young, too healthy, and without any history of heart problems to have something like that happen out of the blue. To happen and be even the slightest bit plausible. But, with Randy lying on the tiled floor, Merser took this as the perfect opportunity to slither out of his hidden ear, the one unseen and closest to the floor. He would abandon this host body and he would seek out another . . .

What?! What the deuce?!

Merser found himself in a circular trap! No, wait. It was spherical trap! He could not find any way out! He was trapped! Utterly, utterly trapped! No! He was so close! He would have been free! Free to take whoever he wanted, and live as anyone he wanted!! No!!

[Cloak]

New chapter.
 

CHAPTER NINETEEN:
Bearing Witness

The three RAFians and the three interns (Randy having achieved consciousness once again) watched as Merser twisted and writhed within the golden scarlet energy orb that Cloak had captured him in. They were well informed of Merser's plan, and he was not even aware of this. Merser had no idea where he was -- he was in complete sensory deprivation.

"What is that thing?"

"An abomination," Myitt said, "an abomination of his own design."

"Uh, thanks, but I was looking for something a little less vague," Randy clarified.

"He is . . was the endoparasite that inhabited your body and rendered your mind unconscious for the duration of the occupation, while he used and puppeteered your body as if he was you."

"He's not dead yet," Yarin said, noticing the frantic wriggling of the brainworm/Yeerk hybrid. "He's confused. And scared. And he's already dead."

"There isn't anything we can do for him, is there?" Mark said. Despite the thing taking him over, and very shortly thereafter abandoning him for another body, the young man was displaying more compassion than most his age would have. Then again, Mark was completely unconscious (and unaccountable, therefore) for his actions with Merser in his head, so he would be completely oblivious to anything Merser would have done. "Nothing at all?"

"No, he signed his death warrant the moment he subjected himself to that concoction," Yarin said, with grim finality. "McGeezax wasn't kidding. That concoction was dangerously unstable, and, in his rush to hybridize himself, he made his own genetic structure unstable. It's just a matter of time before it starts to deteriorate. Best case scenario, it just mutates and he lives as some hideous monstrosity, if you can call living with your own genetic code working against you 'living'."

The Nyac paused as the watched as part of Merser's serpentine posterior swelled and bulged out as if growing a tumor in time-lapse photography. It was not a pleasant thing to see. But there wasn't anything they could do. Anything that they injected him with could worsen any symptoms, or made the agony even more excruciating. And either one were far more likely than actually helping him. It was not something any of the six gathered took enjoyment in, not even Randy or Mark, who Merser treated both as just slabs of meat for him to wear like a costume, to be discarded at his discretion.

"Will it be . . . quick?" Randy asked. Cloak noticed that he seemed to be touch his head a lot. Perhaps he was still trying to come to grips with the fact that Merser had coiled itself in his head. Cloak was sure that he had no signs of permanent injury. He'd be able to feel the irregularities via vibrations in the earth. Granted, that would be guess work at best.

Now Mercer's left-hand anterior region was starting to swell up like a tumorous party balloon. The pain he must have been enduring . . . it must have been absolutely terrible to bear . . .

"There's no telling," Myitt said. "The serum he used so hastily was never tested. There's no telling if it will be a few seconds of pain. A few minutes, a few hours, a few days -- we have no data whosoever to make such a determination. This is why you should always test your samples and whatnot thoroughly, always make absolutely sure that your conclusions are absolute right. Because even if one mistake happens . . . death could happen."

Now, at least twelve percent of his body had swelled up now. It couldn't be much longer. Hopefully, for Merser's sake. If only he wasn't so impetuous and overconfident in his abilities, he wouldn't be suffering right now. Sure, he treated humans similarly to how they treat lab mice, with the same disregard to their lives. But no one deserved an end . . . an end like this.

Cloak admitted that he felt cruel. Cruel in that they weren't even trying to help him, to save him. That they were only standing here waiting for him to die, waiting for his body to explode under the stress of the swelling up like this. Thirty-six percent of his body now swelled up. Guilt stirred in Cloak's gut. They were just waiting for someone to die. Die a death of their own making, but an appallingly horrid one.

Seventy-two percent of his body was now swollen.

"It's nearly there, isn't it?" Brad said, breaking the solemn silence that had fallen over the six.

Seventy-three percent of his body was now swollen.

"Yes," Cloak said, quietly. "I believe it is close."

Seventy-four percent of his body was now swollen. Silence had fallen again. Seventy-six percent. Seventy-nine percent. Eighty-four percent. Ninety-two percent.

"Any time, now," Myitt said, just as quietly as the Realm Walker.

"Feel glad," Yarin said, holding his head. He looked as if he wanted to cry. "You can't hear his screams of pain."

Then he blew, muffled by Cloak's energy bubble. Merser was now dead. His own impetuousness and hastiness led to his demise.

"It's done," Cloak said.

[Cloak]

New chapter.
 

CHAPTER TWENTY:
The Lost Galaxy . . . Man

Cloak was dispatched to a space research center. The facility was expansive, but evacuated because of the fiend. Cloak had agreed to do this mission to get his mind off of the horrid death that Merser had to endure. No one should have to expire in such a manner. Not to mention that he also left material behind when he died. This was still off-putting to Cloak, even with all his time as a RAFian. His kind don't leave behind remains, other than their cloaks. (Which, he supposed, made it rather easier for a Realm Walker to fake their deaths.)

Anyway, he continued into the research center, beyond the room with the big screen. Presumably for space mission and whatnot, despite the fact that they never needed such things when the RAFians went into space. Though, to be fair, they went into space rather infrequently, in comparison. Anyway, Cloak continued forward, climbing up two flights of stairs. He took some sort of dropshaft down two floors, landed nimbly on his feet and continued on. He had to make his way across a floor that was apparently undergoing some routine electrical maintenance, or that's what he got from it.

He climbed up another short flight of stairs, coming to a rather empty-looking atrium. He ignored it and headed up the short stair case at roughly ten o'clock to him. Then he started to proceed forward, when some sort of bot rushed at him all FNAF-style. Cloak wasn't having any of it, and easily dodged it as it rushed to the wall opposite and vanished. Cloak was sure that wasn't the fiend, just a malfunctioning or short circuiting robot of some sort. He continued along, until he noticed moving sidewalks before him. He puzzled at the point of such a thing, before moving forward, and taking a staircase of moderate length to his immediate right downwards. Then he went up a long staircase just a hop, skip, and jump away from where he stepped off the last staircase. Then he took a dropshaft of some sort towards another two staircases, heading up. Then he ascended a slightly shorter staircase and a longer one beyond that one.

He wondered idly if this place was deliberately designed to confuse its employees from getting where they should be.

Then came to a large atrium with those blue and orange circle things. Was this facility trying to make some sort of portal technology? Oh, yeah. That wouldn't come back to bite them (and the RAFians, likely) in the butt. Questions for later, there was something a bit more pressing to concern himself with at the moment. He continued on, ascending three short staircases without breaking stride. Then he ascended two longer staircases.

Then he took two sharp, right-hand turns and entered into a short corridor which eventually turned left sharply. Once beyond that Cloak ran into a long corridor. He couldn't imagine clocking in and clocking out in a place like this. It seemed like doing so and getting to your position for work would take upwards of twenty, thirty minutes minimum. Then he rounded the corner to find another staircase to up, and another one after that. He also found himself thinking that someone should sue the architect of this place. After that staircase, there was another long staircase to his immediate right. Because, of course, there was.

Atop that last flight of stairs, he continued to the right. He eventually saw more of those portal devices, and he wasn't sure he liked the fact that they were developing those things. They could be quite dangerous, you know. But all he knew was that the fiend was in the next room, so he easily made his way there. When he entered, he saw -- unsurprisingly -- that the room was bare, except for the fiend.

The fiend black head and shoulders resembled a generic UFO, with it's orange and dark orange eyes resembling LED displays. It had no other facial features. Its torso resembled an engine turbine which was actually a black hole explosive generator. It's inhumanly thin, gold arms attached to bulky, spherical, black hands with white fingers. Below the black hole generator was a black codpiece with tubular white legs and bulky black shins with white pod-like feet. It could fold up this lower body into its upper body to form a UFO form.

When it saw Cloak, it began by hovering towards him, trying to deal some sort of contact damage to the RAFian. Cloak easily managed to dodge it, as it wasn't too fast to be unavoidable. Then it jumped into the air and fired what appeared to be some sort of black hole at Cloak. The black hole was a fair distance away, and it began to pull at Cloak, but Cloak did not move. He would not move. His Mastery over Earth allowed him to stand rooted to the spot. Fortunately, Cloak wasn't standing right beneath this black hole of sorts. Because the fiend teleported directly below it. That would have proven problematic where Cloak sit under it. Then it teleported back to the ceiling.

Then it landed arbitrarily and tried to repeat this again. These fiends were so stupid and had such a lack of creativity beyond what Demos gave them. Then again, that was more than likely deliberate on Demos's part, given Maul. Fortunately, there was liquid concrete not too far away. When the fiend tried that black hole crap again, Cloak used his Mastery over Earth to force that concrete in it, which neutralized it. Then Cloak . . .

He was quick about it. The fiend was no more.

***

Demos called it a "gyarakushisapien". He claimed that made it to calculate rocket trajectories. No one believed him.

***

Malice was snoring in her easy chair, fallen asleep watching this battle.

[Cloak]

New chapter.
 

BOOK CLXVIII:
JUMPING TO CONCLUSIONS
CHAPTER ONE:
It Bedazzled Itself

Xeno was dispatched to a diamond mine, armed with a prototype portal/black hole generator. He didn't know how it would hold up, but hoped that it would be sufficient for the task at hand. But he did feel somewhat anxious about it. He was also anxious about going into a mine where he likely would not be able to stretch his wings out to their full extent.

But he bit the bullet and went into the winding tunnel that was the diamond mine. Humans with their fascination with the sparkly rocks -- what was the point? He understood if it was used to manipulate lasers and similar uses, but to adorn yourself with them? Bah. He glided down a dropshaft, and he got the feeling that this mine hadn't been used for quite a while.

He continued onward, in a tunnel that sloped upward, whose ground was uneven. The tunnel opened up into a wide cavern, and Xeno flared his wings, just to stretch them. Then he proceeded forward for a while, dealing with the strangely hilly terrain. He could fly, but even with this wide expanse, that would be dangerous. Then he found that he had to proceed into a tunnel. He sighed, wondered why he agreed to this, and went down. The tunnel, as expected, was windy and labyrinthine. And there seemed to be spiders down here the size of cats.

Eventually, the tunnel widened into another cavern. And this cave was mostly chasm. Flying was inevitable here. He did so, trying to be ever so cautious and careful. Especially the wall on the opposite was covered with jagged spikes. He dodged it into the next room, which started rumbling upon his entrance. Xeno had to rush out as the room was caving in.

Xeno looked back, wondering idly how he would get out, before pressing on. He was in another wide room where he could easily stretch out his wings, and the only way out was a dropshaft directly in front of him. He glided down, to another large room. He flew to another tunnel opening, higher up than a human could reach. Then he spiraled down another dropshaft. He had to be getting the close to the fiend.

This dropshaft left off into a sizable tunnel. Xeno quickly proceeded forward, gliding over any chasms he came across, avoiding jagged rocks when he had to. Traversing the grievously uneven ground, Xeno started to wonder how this mine passed any OSHA inspection. Then he glided down another dropshaft. To a room full of jagged rocks. Well, that was rude.

He easily glided to the dropshaft in the floor, and proceeded onward. Then he navigated his way from the narrow tunnel into the opening of a wide cave. Then he navigated across to the next room. The next room definitely had the fiend, and Xeno was right. The adolescent-sized fiend had a large pink diamond inset in its black head, with large, pearl-like eyes that had dark orange sclera and black irises, both with a pinkish tint, and a round, fleshy lower jaw. Its neck was white, a black Green Ranger-like shield on its white torso which was inset with a pink diamond on its chest, with square-cut pink agates around its shoulders, white upper arms, black lower arms and hands with square-cut pink sapphires on the back of of its wrists. It had a white midriff, a black belt cinched with a hexagonal cut rose quartz, a white crotch and thighs, bulky black lower legs with diamond-cut pink amethysts, and pod-like feet.

When it saw Xeno, it generated an orbiting shield made of pink diamonds, rose quartzes, amethysts, jaspers, carnelians, pink agates, pink sapphires, and pink pearls, all jewels of a pink coloring. Then he ran toward Xeno with these jewel satellites surrounding him. Any time that Xeno jumped, it mimicked this, despite Xeno could flap his wings and get higher than this fiend. After a while, it just threw the individual jewels at Xeno from its shield, one by one. Then it generated another shield, to begin this tactic over again.

Alright, then. It was time to test out this new device that he, Yarin, Goom, and Aquilai worked on. He did this every time the fiend generated the jewels (with Xeno's greedier disposition thinking that these gems could be useful to fund the forum). Xeno shook his head and ended this when the fiend was currently vulnerable. The fiend was gone.

Then Xeno simply used the way that the fiend got in here to get out, which laid in the room beyond this one.

***

Demos called it a "juerusapien". He said that it was designed to work in a diamond mine where it would be in charge of cutting and polishing rocks and jewels with dexterity The others found this somewhat believable.

***

Malice's snores were very obnoxious as she slumbered still. It was starting to seem as if she wasn't releasing Maul's fiend siblings.

[Cloak]

New chapter.
 

CHAPTER TWO:
Criminal Vanishing Acts

There was a prestigious, large bank that was really the Muggle variation of Gringotts, and it stood proudly, almost daring thieves to steal from it. It's bright, clear, white marble edifice was an intimidating fortress to penetrate. Most petty thieves would never consider breaking into this behemoth of a currency and valuable depository. The bank personnel had what could be termed the "Titanic mentality", believing their security so extensive and thorough that robbing it would be a virtual impossibility.

Such hubris was dangerous. It was literally asking for some intrepid criminal to defy their lofty expectations. Many of the more ambitious criminal would see it as a challenge, and nothing -- NOTHING -- was ever foolproof. People, even people in security, can get complacent and let their guard down. Nothing was ever impenetrable. And no one could stay absolutely vigilant.

As it would happen, someone did manage to break into the bank. Particularly the offices. The perpetrator clearly didn't know their way around the place, as they bumbled around and were quickly caught on tape. It appeared that they were wearing a cloak, or a hooded trench coat of some sort. It was difficult, nigh on impossible, to make out anything else about this perpetrator. It just bore a superficial resemblance to . . .

Then it was gone. As if the subject . . . Disapparated. But there wasn't any popping sound, like which usually accompanied Disapparation. The security cameras didn't only record full-color video, it recorded high-quality audio. Only there wasn't any audio to record when the perpetrator had appeared and vanished. There was some similar to how a --

Suddenly, the security cameras picked up the suspicious individual inside the vault itself. There were boxes that stored the money, but they weren't locked. The bank personnel haven't been locking them for ages, being far too complacent about the other security systems in place to deter or catch any prospective thief. Their security systems were state of the art -- but that didn't mean that they were impenetrable. State of the art systems are useless when human error and human complacency and human hubris are not taken into account. Not to mention the tendency that humans (and other sentient species) have towards laziness and cutting corners.

The perpetrator was filling up a bag (which had a very convenient black "$" painted on two sides of it, as if this was a cartoon or something) with various valuables. He wasn't being picky, either. He was taking small denomination notes as well as the large denomination ones. He was roughly shoving them into the bag, with all the deftness of a blind man with his hands cut off.

Once the bag was full, he vanished. And it really looked like the way a Walker Walked.

***

GH was sitting at a cafe, sipping some coffee, reading a newspaper whose headline was saying something about killer animatronics and murderous mascots. Then that girl . . . he thought her name was Amber . . . came prancing up to him singing:

"Been thinkin' for a while
And there's somethin'
I gotta tell you . . ."

"Eh, I'm kinda busy." GH said, sipping his coffee, trying to brush her off. He wasn't interested in her the same way she was interested in him.

"Been thinkin' that our love
For each other has grown so very strong."

GH gagged on his coffee and dropped the mug, taken aback, "Love? Wait --"

"It's plain to see
We're building
Our worlds together."

She was much too close to him now. He felt incredibly uncomfortable. "Uh, back off for a minute."

"I'm looking at your eyes right now
And I can tell you feel the same --"

Then she roughly glomped GH, who cried out, "You're choking me!"

"We are in love!"

GH sang himself:

"I think I'm gonna run away . . ."

This obsessive woman sang:

"We are in love!"

GH ran to his thread, and shut the door. Then he held his back to the door, breathing heavily and fearfully. Then he pulled his phone out, and sung:

"Did you tap my phonelines?!"

She sang through his phone:

"We're in love!
Yes, I tapped your phonelines."

GH sang,  almost placatingly and sycophantically..

"I won't lie,
You're a very pretty lady."

This girl -- GH was about 49% sure that her name was Amber -- said, taking immense pleasure, "Thank you!"

But when she opened her eyes again, GH was gone. He was running away.

"But you're crazy, crazy, crazy . . .
You make me wanna move to Bolivia!"

She replied excitedly, "I'll go with you!"

GH sang, as the scene fast forwarded into a scene right out of Psycho.

"You know, I'm thinkin'
I should get a restrainin' order."

She replied, "Those are so hard to enforce."

Yeah, 'coz that wasn't creepy at all.

GH sang:

"Your car was parked
Outside my thread
Every night this week!"

She said, in a complete non sequitor, "Your neighbors are sweet."

GH sang, in an accusatory tone:

"You're the reason why I have
To keep my shades drawn!"

She declared, "I'll watch you through the chimney!"

GH didn't even have a chimney.

GH announced:

"I've installed an alarm system
With motion-beam detectors."

She revealed, "I have the code.

We are in love."

GH asked, as he ran to hide in a closet:

"Give me just five minutes."

GH turned on the light in the closet, to find this girl there, singing:

"We are in love.
I think that was five minutes.
We are in love."

GH burst out of the closet and what he saw caused him to feel rather downcast.

"Did you just move in with me?"

She was wearing a frilly, pink apron with an oven mitt holding a pan of cupcakes with pink icing.

"We are in love.
Yes, I just moved in with you.
We are in love"

.

GH had really had enough of this now. He roared, which seemingly shattered reality:

"NO -- WE'RE -- NOT!!!"

Then he jerked awake, which somehow didn't rouse Leatherhead. He had fallen asleep in his human suit. He loved that thing as a child loves their play suits. GH tried to calm down. Tried to slow his breathing.

That girl again. That girl who could never take a hint . . .


SOURCE SONG: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=puYJ0Ojp5cI

[Cloak]

New chapter.
 

CHAPTER THREE:
Vision and the Hunter

Cloak was in his little private mediation spot outside the forum, but nearby, should he ever be needed. He sat on the empty stump, not bothered by the insignificant, minuscule steps of various insects, which was only intent of going about their business. Cloak vaguely noticed the hopping about of a small songbird, pecking and poking at the ground with its short, blunt beak. There was a squirrel, which watched Cloak warily, fearing him to be a predator, as it chewed its way into an acorn, it's teeth scraping the acorn's hard exterior. Then there was the babbling stream to his right that flowed past him, without a single care.

This place was as lovely as it was calming. Cloak had found that this place seemingly had the power to lift whatever negative emotion he happened to be feeling. It was a place that he sojourned to whenever he needed piece and quiet, and a place to think and ponder. A place to meditate. It was a place so like one of his favorite childhood spots in the nexus, only with deliberate differences.

Cloak slowed his breathing, and focused his mind. Eventually, these peaceful sounds fell away from his ears as he meditated. He really didn't have any reason to be here, meditating. Maybe he still felt some guilt for just letting Merser die. Anyway, he focused his thoughts and . . . he got a vision of sorts. Was it a Truth Dream? Was it possible having those when you were awake?

In it he saw several things that he didn't understand. A vaguely draconic humanoid pyromorph with caprokinetic armor and split shield. A crystalline, lupine creature with thin wings. A phoenix  with two pairs of wings and a braided tail. A fae floramorph with a rose-like head. A hydromorphic yeti creature with a pinniped face. An electromorphic winged insectoid creature with a gaping, fanged maw. Two energy constructs that resembled fallen seraphs. None of these figures had well-defined forms with any real definitions. Those were just the details Cloak could just barely make out. They were also HUGE. They made Cloak look as if he was the size of a house cat.

What were these things? Why was he seeing them? What could this possibly mean?

To Cloak's frustration, these images offered no answers. No clear-cut explanations. But, were this a Truth Dream or something similar, that would be the norm. His Truth Dreams were infamous for their vagueness and nonsensical, random nature. This was so infuriating at most times. But the Realm Walker had learned to take it stride, and try to remember them. But that was easier said than done.

Then these images dissolved into three minuscule hearts wreathed in dark energy of different forms. Three were wrapped in fiery dark energy, three were wrapped icy dark energy, three were wreathed in electrical dark energy, three were airy dark energy, three were watery dark energy, three were wreathed in a spore-like mist energy, and the last six were wreathed in potent dark energy. Then the vision ended.

It wasn't an natural ending -- something . . . no, someone had disturbed him. How rude.

***

There was a hunter, who had watched the mainstream media reporting on these robberies, which was always leaning to saintifying corporations.. His name was Dick Randall, and he looked like one of those people who subsisted solely on Mountain Dew, Twinkies, and Bern Bridges's radio show. He usually polished his shotgun (a grossly modified one) as he listened to Bridges's podcasts and radio show. He swallowed everything Bridges said, despite never having any verifiable proof of his claims. Which is understandable, as Bridges tends to make up his assertions from conjecture, hearsay, and connecting disparate events with flimsy connections. Bridges was a master of mental gymnastics and working backward from his conclusion, and Dick was none the wiser. He swallowed all this bile with such gusto and passion that he was unaware of just how uninformed he truly was about the world and country.

He scowled as he listened, and watched the footage that they showed. The pundits on the television even had Bridges on to give his "expert" opinion. There was nothing "expert" about Bridges, except his use of making ridiculous rhetoric sound plausible to the stupid and naive. Bridges had called what this guy was doing -- the apparent Apparation and Disapparation (which was caught on video) -- "Jumping", and thereby, this thief "the Jumper". Naturally, Bridges assumed that the Jumper had RAFian connections, despite there being absolutely no evidence to support that claim.

"Goddamn RAFians," Dick growled. He was unmarried, and alone, so he didn't bother watching his language. Although, even if he had company, he wouldn't have censored his sailor mouth. He had the interpersonal skills of a rabid doberman, and he had no filter to anyone. This in-your-face attitude of his and his obsession with firearms and violence was very offputting to others and made him more of an outcast from society. He didn't mind, though. He preferred to be alone, and stew in his hatred and prejudices.

"Goddamn blind idiots," he growled again, when someone tried to argue Bridges's ridiculous point with facts, or lack thereof. He decided that he would need to take action, that these foolish morons were not willing to do anything about. In his mind, he would be hailed as a hero. The hero who did what needed to be done, what no one else was willling to do. He would kill this Jumper. He would exact justice, or his warped version of justice, easily and mindlessly manipulated by a corporatist narrative and agenda.

He loaded his shotgun to capacity, and put more ammunition in a pack, just in case. He was so sure that he'd be hailed as a hero, except to those blind idiots who were determined to not see the truth, or, rather, the truth as Dick saw it. And no one would be able to dissuade him from what he's decided to do. He would do what's -- in his skewed view -- was right.

And it's not like this would be the first Jumper he got.

[Cloak]

New chapter.
 

CHAPTER FOUR:
Disturbed and Displeasure

Dick shouldered his shotgun, having no qualms about using it to take a life. This had gotten him into trouble with the law before, but he always managed to wiggle out of doing serious jail time, despite his terrorist tendencies. This was mostly due to selling these Jumper cadavers and corpses to the government (the black market and Cadmus, as well). He knew that this "Jumper", as Bridges called it, was not the only one. Just one that was stupid enough to be caught on camera and steal from a bank. The other Jumpers were well aware of the danger of Dick, which they just referred to as the Hunter.

He was also quite skilled, despite his rather lowbrow and slovenly appearance, in capturing and killing these Jumpers. Its how he managed to get his small house in the out-of-the-way overgrown area. The house was paid off, but it was also quite dilapidated (he preferred to think of it as "rustic"). The government for the most part looked the other way when Dick starts crap, due to his sell of the Jumper bodies.

Jumpers were humans, but just mutated humans that are able to teleport in a way rather like Apparation, only they aren't witches or wizards. And their teleportation is markedly different in several key ways -- from the appearance to the absence of a pop from the point they vanish and the crack when they reappear. But Dick didn't consider them human, he considered them sinful freaks that needed to be exterminated, and that their corpses were nothing to revere or mourn. Their corpses were just items to be sold. He was indifferent to the fact that they may have had families -- flatscan human families. They were just less than human to him, and he treated them as nothing more or less than a fur hunter would treat pelts.

He scratched his "Duck Dynasty"-type of beard, as he marched into the forest. He was really making far too much noise to be an effective hunter, but he was certain that Jumpers were dumber than him. And, besides, he hadn't technically began to start hunting. When he crossed the threshold of the forest, it was remarkable how quickly he transitioned to being silent and he slowed his movements considerably. Every footstep was cautious and had a lot of thought and consideration put into it. He didn't want to scare his quarry off too quickly.

Granted, that he had no idea if the Jumper was in this forest for sure, but he felt such confidence that it bordered overconfidence. He had managed to slay upwards of seven or eight Jumpers, and the mainstream media never reported on any of it. It was just fortunate that all of the Jumpers that he had slain were all vagrants and outcasts from society. Dick really took too much pleasure in killing these people that he despised so much, in an almost sadistic manner.

He moved throughout the forest, looking for the favored watering hole that these Jumpers liked to visit. They never learn. They should have realized that he knew about their little hangout by now. Dick found the Jumper with ruthless and unbelievable ease. He pointed his shotgun into the face of the seated person in front of him, smiling in a rather deranged manner.

"Don't move," he hissed. "Don't move an effing muscle."

Cloak sighed. He didn't even open his eyes or show any sign of intimidation. "How rude. I'm in the middle of meditation, and you disrupt it?"

"Don't move, buddrow," he hissed, ignoring Cloak's words. "I gotcha in my sights. Move an inch and I'll blow your face --"

Cloak didn't open his eyes as his right hand shot out far faster than Dick could react. He grabbed the barrels of the shotgun and the metal in it gave way to Cloak's fingers. He crushed the ends of each barrel of the shotgun as if they were made of Play-Doh. He had sealed the open ends of the shotgun, rendering it useless.

"Bertha!" Dick gasped.

Cloak finally opened his amber eyes. He sighed, "Humans and your guns. I don't know why you cleave to such things. You do realize that their primary function is to kill things?"

"Guns don't kill people," Dick roared, raising his shotgun high, as if to use it as a club. "People kill people."

"People with guns kill people," Cloak said, catching the gun as it was swung. The metal in the gun collapsed to metal shavings and powdery ingots. "But I am not a human. I will not pretend to understand this fascination that humans seem to have with firearms. There is still plenty about the human species that I do not understand, that I cannot fathom. But I've long since accepted this fact."

"You'll pay for what you did to Bertha!"

"You named it? You do realize that it was an inanimate object, right?" Cloak said. He was trying to get a read on this human. If he was a truly merciless, malicious being or a simple misguided soul. "You do realize that it cannot return any love you show for it, right?"

"Shuddap!!" he said. Cloak thought he detected a faint trace of alcohol on this newcomer's breath. Great. That would explain a great deal.

[Cloak]

Posting tomorrow's chapter right now because I have to do a couple of double shifts again this weekend.

New chapter.
 

CHAPTER FIVE:
Is That Supposed to Be a Slur?

"Go home, human," Cloak said, "you're drunk."

"Shaddup, you stupid Jumper!!" he snarled.

"'Jumper'?" Cloak repeated. From the tone, it sounded almost like a racial slur.

"Yeah! I know that you robbed that bank!" he said, acting very proud of his conclusion. Even as he swayed slightly on the spot. Cloak found it rather laughable that this creature thought that he was intimidating. "You might as well admit it! Imma make a citizen's arrest!"

"What use would I have for human currency?" Cloak said, still trying to be rational to a drunk. That was a difficult endeavor in and of itself. "Why would I want to rob a bank? What would be the point? It would be a worthless waste of energy. I have no use for human money."

"Bull****," the tipsy drunk spat. He clearly had made his mind on this issue, and nothing would dissuade him from it. Cloak saw this and understood that trying to reason with him was a futile task, at best. "I know that you did it. Admit it!"

Cloak sighed. "I did not commit any such crime. I was here for hours, meditating. And, up until you blundered in to this place, was enjoying the serenity of this place."

"Don't lie! Tell the truth!" Dick roared. Birds actually fled a nearby bush in fear.

Cloak decided that he would need to be blunt. "There is nothing I can say, nothing I can do, that would be considered truth by you, barring a confession. Which would be a false confession because I hadn't done anything that you described."

"You can't fool me, Jumper," he said, still swaying. Cloak assumed that he would topple over any minute now, and start snoring. The Realm Walker presumed that he'd have one heck of a hangover afterwards. Cloak can't say that he would be sorry. "I know the truth!"

"You know the truth?" Cloak repeated. He didn't lose his cool, tempered his temper. "Do you? You made up your mind based on conjecture and speculation and emotions. That potent ****tail caused you to reach this unassailable conclusion."

"Come in quietly, and I'll treat you nicely," he said. His breath still held the stench of alcohol. Cloak never liked that scent. "Don't resist me."

Cloak said nothing for a bit. This dumpy man before him who looked like the only thing that he curled was a Twinkie with a graying beard grown down to his chest. This man had nothing on the kind of creatures that Cloak had faced. He didn't even hold a candle to the lesser creatures that he had battled before. There was no way by the Veil that this man would intimidate Cloak.

After a moment's consideration, Cloak stood up. Dick smiled drunkenly. He thought Cloak was complying to his demand. The Elements Master, however, obviously had no intention in complying with this human. Cloak was frankly annoyed that this drunk hunter thought he had any power over him in this scenario. He hadn't any fear of him. He's already dealt with Garrotik, Malice, Cataclysm . . . his mother . . . and this human thinks that he'd be intimidated by his drunken bluster? Please.

"Now turn around while I bind your arms," he said, staggering towards Cloak.

"I will not," Cloak said, crossing his arms. "Little human, you do not know the power with which you are trifling with."

"Turn around," he said, his voice more commanding.

Cloak didn't not.

"Turn around!" he roared.

Cloak still didn't.

"I said, turn aro--"

"Stop the farce," Cloak said. "You haven't any power over me, human. I have no obligation to obey your whims. I haven't any clue what a 'Jumper' is."

"YOU are!!" Dick insisted.

"I am not," Cloak said, keeping his cool. "I am a Realm Walker. I am a Master of the Six Elements. I am a RAFian. I am not a --"

"A RAFian?!" Dick snarled, drunkenly.

[Cloak]

Not sure if anyone is still reading this, but here:

New chapter.
 

CHAPTER SIX:
Ideology Clash

"Yes," Cloak said. He already gotten the scope of the type of person that this human was. He was clearly a Bern Bridges listener, and, thus, grossly, grossly misinformed about, well, basically everything. "I'm the only RAFian Realm Walker."

"You're monsters!"

Yep, he was definitely a Bern Bridges listener.

"And you're misinformed," Cloak said, smoothly.

"Don't give me that," Dick snarled. He seemed more lucid now. Amazing how that happened. "I know all about that prison you put your dissenters, that you kill and silence all that disagree with you, and what you do with children."

And now we were back to drunken ramblings.

Cloak scoffed, "You don't know nearly as much as you think you do. There is no prison. We don't kill and silence any dissenters. And we don't do anything that you suggest to children."

"LIar! Pretender! Snooker! Philanderer!" he said. It seemed like that he was just shouting words that he thought sounded smarter. "Monster! Deceiver! Swindler! Forger! Gaslighter!"

"Do you even know what half of those words mean?" Cloak said.

"Don't you condescend to me, RAFian!" he spat.

"You're being unreasonable," Cloak said. But, really,  that could be said for anyone in Bern Bridges's limited fanbase, which was larger than Cloak cared to admit. It was amazing how gullible some people could be. Just a nugget of plausibility and bombastic rhetoric could sway the stupid and naive -- Cloak wouldn't call fans of such a rhetoric smart or politically alert.

"I am not!" came his amazing counterargument. "You will come quietly with me and allow justice to be served!"

"What justice?" Cloak asked simply.

This simple question took him off-guard. He wasn't expecting this, but he decided to seize upon the opportunity. "You harbor illegal immigrants --"

"If you're talking about the aliens -- and that sounds like Knight rhetoric, by the way -- there is no legalization process for extraterrestrial visitors. And the non-Terran RAFians we have, including myself, work for your benefit."

"You steal our jobs from us!" he spat.

"You confuse me and the RAFians for the real villains," Cloak countered, with a sigh. It was like speaking to a child. "The real villain in that issue is the corporatist official above you who decided to make more money and ship your jobs overseas. Then they convince you that immigrants, human or otherwise, are the culprits, banking on you not realizing this. And, for the most part, they have gotten away with it."

This had also happened in the Nexus. Only the Nexus is further down the line from this, but the parallels were there. Undeniably.

"You think you're so smart, don't you?" he said, belligerently. "You actually believe that propaganda schlock?"

"Clearly," Cloak said, walking pass Dick, "arguing ideological policies with you is a futile endeavor."

Dick turned to argue, but Cloak had vanished.

"I knew that he was a Jumper!" Dick declared, unaware that Cloak had dived into the earth, and was traveling that way.

[Cloak]

New chapter.
 

CHAPTER SEVEN:
Shifty, Gaynes

The true Jumper was nervous. He was the one who stole from the bank, who had managed to elude their most stringent safeguards. He was also Pearson Alan Gaynes*, the failed League of Assassins initiate, who had obtained teleportation powers. He had been desperate for cash. He hadn't a job (which he would justify as still being underage, at nearly seventeen-years-old), nor did he had any real applicable skills to contribute to the job market. He was always full of bluster, and couldn't help but lie on all his applications. And he was never one for subtlety, as such, he made boisterously improbable things on those applications -- things that were obviously not true, and just egomanical bluster. Hence, why he tried to be a member of the League -- he imagined great prestige and renown being a famous assassin . . . despite the fact that the League was all about the exact opposite of that.

Not to mention that he wasn't very skilled at anything they tried to teach him. He failed at nearly everything and every task given to him. He had even failed to kill the Blue Prodigy. He only remembered the Blue Prodigy quaking in fear before him (yes, he colored that memory with fantasy). Then the next moment nothing but a brief blackness. This was the point that Goose had taken him over and put him to sleep. He had no memory of this occupation. To him, it was just a momentary blackout. When he finally came to his senses again, he found that he was home. Home in his rather shabby apartment, with his bare mattress on the floor, single boxy television sat upon the sparsely carpeted floor, with the single console system attached to it. He was on his own, living without any of his parents. He's never really known any parents. Not to mention that he was technically behind several months on his rent (he had pretended that he was older than he was, and the landlord was a very unscrupulous type). He needed money. He had managed to pay off some of this rent, but more remained.

It was only after Goose left him (Blue had told him to watch over Alan until the Tribunal was dealt with), that he came by the ad for volunteers for a special experiment. The monetary reward for subjecting himself to such experiments would be more than enough to pay of his rent and the rest of his mounting bills. Or so he thought.

He never considered that the experimenters would ever renege on their deal. He never considered that the ad was planted specifically to attract the desperate and the needy. He never considered that they would never let him go, and erase his existence from the books. He had walked in and essentially signed his life away, In his desperation, he allowed himself to essentially be enslaved. He never paid much attention to the insignia on the wall as he walked into the room -- a strand of DNA within a beaker within an eye within a triangle.

The people behind the scenes were looking for people with specific genes, ones that they could manipulate to give them the "supers" that they wanted for a super-powered army. The only problem these undercover Cadmus agents really had was a control one. They could give people these powers, but they couldn't control them, which would strike anyone as a problem.

Alan had gained teleportation abilities from this process. But he had managed to hide this from his Cadmus captors, which was unsurprisingly difficult. This was his only way out of this imprisonment. He waited until the time was right, before teleporting to his apartment, to find that his shady landlord had evicted him in his apartment. It couldn't have been more than a few days . . . true, he was behind on his rent and really had no right to stay. But still.

It was few days before he found Shifty, who basically took him in as a minion. Not a friend, but a minion. Alan was oblivious to this, as Shifty (his real name was Lindsey Shifty, but he preferred being referred to by his surname) allowed Alan to live in his ramshackle, dilapidated place. Alan considered it better than being homeless, even if he had to be subservient to Shifty. Like Alan, Shifty was able to teleport, but in short bursts and mostly in line of sight place.

But he worried. He had only taken a little more five grand from the bank, in large bills. Shifty wasn't easy to satisfy. Alan never managed to achieve it. Alan was always mistreated by Shifty's hand, and, yet, Alan remained. If he had any self-respect left, he would have left and found another place to live. But he had a tendency towards laziness.

"Idiot!" Shifty roared. Alan flinched very noticeably. That was Shifty's name for Alan, and he never called Alan by name. "GET IN HERE!!!"

Alan didn't hesitate. He couldn't. That would just make Shifty angrier. When he made a demand, he expected it to be obeyed. Shifty's room was the most livable area of the entire abandoned homestead. It had the most extravagant decorations and four-poster bed with sheets that looked to be similar to musty silk. Shifty sat on this bed, and he did not look pleased. To his right, he had a tablet which he used to access the internet (which, of course, he stole). He was a thin man with curly blonde hair that looked rather like a rat's nest.

"I got five grand, Shifty," Alan said, hesitantly.

Shifty considered that for a moment. His anger seemed to lessen somewhat. It was actually no way to tell for sure -- Shifty was always angry.

"Leave it by the bed," Shifty said. Alan didn't hesitate to obey. Then he backed up towards the threshold of the doorway. "You were seen, Idiot. You were caught on security tapes."

Alan flinched at the harsh tone that accompanied these words. Shifty wasn't happy, but what else was new?


* From Book 161.

[Cloak]

New chapter.
 

CHAPTER EIGHT:
Hunter Harrassment

Cloak had decided to look for another meditation spot, as the other one, despite being in a lovely, secluded spot, was now compromised. As he walked up to a sixty-year-old oak tree, a lizard scurried away and a river turtle splashed into the small river to the left that this small hill overlooked. Their were bright red flowers surrounding this tree. This looked like a wonderfully peaceful spot. It wasn't nearly as secluded as the previous one, but there was good tree cover here. And it wasn't too far from the forum. But he had his communicator on him if he was really needed for a given mission.

Then he Earthsighted something that irritated him. It was still a minor inconvenience if anything, and not at all dangerous.

"DIE!" Dick said, as he leaped out of the tall grass as if he were a Pokemon. Not missing a step, Cloak grabbed Dick's right hand, which held a Bowie knife inexpertly, and placed his hand on his chest. Then he used his own momentum against him to throw him into the the nearby river. He did this all in one swift movement.

With a sigh, Cloak left to find another place.

***

Cloak went to a shadier part of the forest, where the forest's canopy was denser. He saw a nice patch of what he assumed were geraniums, which accompanied an elm tree about twenty years old or so. He heard a creature rustling the long grass to escape, and Cloak assumed that it was a stoat or something. Maybe even a badger. He saw what appeared to be a baby alligator scrambling into a large river. Perhaps this spot wasn't the best spot, as that baby alligator probably had a parent nearby.

Then again, he easily Earthsighted another problem with this.

"DIE!!!"

He was starting to graduate from minor inconvenience to mere inconvenience. Cloak raised his hand, palm up, and a tree's roots raised up. Dick then promptly tripped over it, dropping his Bowie knife, losing it into the the river. Dick immediately started to try to fish for it, until he saw the large alligator -- at least, fifteen feet long -- which caused Dick to quickly withdraw his arm from the water. He didn't think the knife was important to lose an arm over.

When he turned around to face the person he had decided was the Jumper that had robbed that bank (despite Cloak being two, two and half feet taller than Alan). Only Cloak was no longer there.

"I will get you, Jumper."

***

Cloak went to an area that he surveyed over, but immediately dismissed as a suitable spot. It was much too far from the form, the ground too marshy (it made Earthsight difficult, but not impossible), and it was too wet for his liking. That birch tree looked as if it was about to topple over anyway. Cloak took a further step into this area, and a gecko fled into the underbrush, chased by a wild fowl, interested in having it for dinner. And Cloak watched as a hellbender salamander slip into a near pond.

"DIE!!" Dick shouted behind Cloak, wielding a knife with a narrower, shorter blade than the Bowie knife. It looked almost like a parring knife.

Cloak deftly blocked the attack with a wall of this shifty, moist earth. The knife sunk into the earth and got stuck really good in the mire that was the wall. Without missing a beat, Cloak said, "You're becoming quite a genuine nuisance, human."

"You're human, too, you --" Dick roared, ending it with a plethora of what was clearly human vulgarities. "You may be able to teleport from place to place, but I know full well of that you're just as human as I am!"

"Interesting contradiction," Cloak said, with disinterest. "You dehumanized those that you call, obviously derogatorily, 'Jumpers'. Yet, now you assert that they are as human as you are."

Dick spluttered, clearly unable to utter a coherent sentence.

"I have had enough of this," Cloak said, unseen by Dick. He tapped his foot on the ground, and jumped into the hole, thereby vanishing from Dick's point-of-view.

[Cloak]

New chapter.
 

CHAPTER NINE:
Jumper Plutomania

"Even if I have to suffer your incompetence -- you were seen on camera, you DOLT -- I will not be a part of the peasantry," Shifty snarled. Alan cowered before this man. Shifty was a few years older than Alan, and physically taller and more built than him. "I will not be worse than ordinary, I will not be poor! I will not be penniless. I will not be bankrupt! I've got to have money!"

The way he said it, you'd think that being poor was a moral failing instead the product of economic inequality and the avarice of those on top, making the rules to prevent any upward mobility. But, apparently, Shifty thought that he hadn't made his point of how rampant his plutomania was.

"Money is such a beautiful thing."

"I know, I know," Alan said, cringing like a beaten dog.

"It soars in my mind like a fanciful bird."

"I know. . . . I know," Alan said, sounding very put-upon,

"Better than that
It makes me feel like an aristocrat
That’s where it’s at
Money is such a beautiful word
Quite so, quite so, quite so
Money is such a wondrous thing
Ah, yes! Ah, yes!
I find that I use it for everything.
No less! No less!
Money equals power
If it were food, it’s a dish I’d devour
On every hour!
Money is such a beautiful thing!
Oh yes! Oh, yes! Oh, yes!
Money's my passion, it's always in fashion!
Stashin', cash, cream of the cream, that is my dream!
Money is such a glorious thing!
When I see lots of it, I want to stand up and sing!
Money's my favourite, that's why I crave it.
Money's the love of my life,
The only true love in my life.
Money, for me, is all that there is!
It is! It is!
I spend it so well, I'm the best in the biz
Money and I, we are as happy as apple and pie!
Haven't you heard?
Money is such a beautiful word.
Money they say is evil as Satan and probably worse,"

"It is," Alan said, but Shifty was lost in the thrall of his plutomanic ideals, that he did not hear or notice.

"An incalcuable and wonderful curse
It is!
A pleasure to have in my coin purse!
It is! It is!
Money is the . . . most beautiful thing."

Alan said nothing, but continued to cower before the imposing teleporter in front of him. Shifty growled, "I'M going with this time. I clearly cannot count on you not to foul it up. Some ninja!"


Source Song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KNbw1kUDp5M