Memoirs of a RAFian

[Cloak]

New chapter.
 

CHAPTER FIFTEEN:
All Caught Up

Of course, Marco Locke noticed. He immediately made a beeline towards his tower estate. Or what was once his tower estate, and it belonged to Atreyu now. The mad thief still didn't realize his folly, either. Didn't realize he had just made himself a target. The fool.

Marco Locke wasn't overt with his arrival into his towers. He knew a way around each and every defense -- having designed every last one himself, and putting in a workaround for only someone with the powers that his talisman granted him. It was almost as if he expected someone to betray him in this manner. No one, not even Genie, noticed that there was a ****roach with a human face crawling toward the lamp, which Atreyu foolishly set down on a smaller, circular table with a glass top.

Locke saw this and smiled inwardly. Atreyu was always a fool. Those that sought materialistic wealth, those inflicted with plutomania, were always so easy to manipulate and buy, in Locke's opinion. The lamp was something to be discarded only when you used up all your wishes. But, with his talisman combined with the lamp, Locke would have infinite wishes. All that he wanted to could be within his grasp again. True, he would have to suffer the Genie backtalking him, but he could easily wish that away.

He would be able to strip people of their emotions, their wills, their minds, or their very lives if he had the inclination. He would have all the phenomenal cosmic power at his hands. Granted, he would have to use the Genie as a conduit, but that was a very small difference. The power would still fundamentally be his. Power that he will never let go of, never relinquish again.

Once he had made contact with the lamp as a ****roach, he immediately snatched it as he turned human. As Genie screamed in horror -- his most abusive, and long-term, master had reclaimed his lamp. Atreyu looked confused, perplexed and scandalized. How did Locke know where he was? He still did not realize his folly. He had allowed himself to get ****y and complacent.

"Calm down, slave," Locke said, harshly, as he combined his talisman with the top of the lamp. His voice sounded rather like Christopher Lloyd. "It's just going to be like old times."

Then he turned to his attention to Atreyu who was trying to slink away. He stepped in front of him, as the man poked his head from beneath the rug he was hiding. Locke said, "And where are you going?"

"Just outside, Master," Atreyu said, rather oily. "You and Genie have so much to catch up on, I thought you'd be wanting a few minutes alone."

Locke, in one powerful, fluid movement, picked up Atreyu by his collar and held him until he was face-to-face with him.

Atreyu concluded, rather feebly and timidly, "I know I would."

Locke gave a sidelong glance at the Genie of the Lamp, and said, "Slave, I wish you would turn this disloyal swine into something more fitting."

"Just like old times alright," Genie said, glumly, as Atreyu whimpered. Then Genie granted the wish and he turned Atreyu into a rather ugly-looking pig. With a terrified squeal, Atreyu the pig fled the room into parts unknown as Locke gave a deep laugh. Then he criticized Atreyu's garish redecorating of his office, and wished for the Genie to make this place like their old home.

"Right, casa de cuckoo." he said, sullenly. He never liked serving Mercolock. The RAFians -- they were fun. What imagination! What creativity! And none of it to harm anyone else. Well, to harm themselves in the long run, but they didn't mean to, like Mercolock does. He was a hateful, vengeful man. And now he had unlimited wishes again.

The place rocked and rolled as it began to transform into a black stone fortress with lava-colored grout. Then it began to grow horned pustules, transforming into one bizarre hellscape. The tower became a hellish form of a floating castle, with Marco Locke on its throne. He was home in his floating death machine. It was like a stylized Warworld, but on a smaller, more manageable scale. He felt elated to be back in the position that he thought that he deserved. All-powerful. He was now all-powerful. Everything and anything is at his fingertips once more. Anyone who dare to wrong him . . . well, they'd be sorry.

"Let's get going, slave," Mercolock said to Genie.

"To where?" he asked, playing for time.

"You know where," he snarled.

"I'm afraid I cannot allow you to do that," came a voice. An uninvited voice. "I've seen what you've done with the power you now wield. You wield it like a weapon and very irresponsibly. I cannot allow you to keep this kind of power and endanger everyone."

[Cloak]

New chapter.
 

CHAPTER SIXTEEN:
Determined Defiance

"Huh-uh! Baaaad move!" the Genie warned imploringly at this newcomer.

"You dare to speak to me that way?!" Mercolock roared, rising from his throne. "You threaten me?

"Yes," Cloak said, stepping into the like, his eponymous cloak mincing the air in a threatening way. It was almost like the start of a Death Battle. Cloak had no fear of such a man. Without the Genie, he wasn't powerful at all. It's only by having the lamp that he was any sort of threat, and Cloak knew Locke knew this. It would take more than Mercolock to strike fear into the heart of the Realm Walker -- he had nothing to compare to Ursa. He couldn't even lick her boots in terms of terror.

The Genie changed tack, "Please, Mercolock! He's had a lousy day -- I assume. Maybe a hot bath with a warm glass of goat's milk will --"

"SILENCE!" the mad sorcerer roared. "I wish that you would cast him out of my house. DO IT."

The Genie tried to struggle against it, but he was forced to grant the wish just the same. He grunted, "I . . . I have no choice."

"I understand," Cloak said, but he didn't sound fearful.

Powerful gusts of wind came billowing up before him, but Cloak did not move, the wind seemed to split and billow around him. It did not cast him out.

"Air? Seriously?" Cloak said, with a tone of disbelief. Cloak addressed Mercolock. "You use one of the Six Elements against me? Do you not who I am? What I can do, sorcerer?"

"Slave! What's the meaning of this?!" he demanded of the Genie.

"I . . . I can't . . . I dunno . . ." he said, but he wasn't convulsing like he did before he granted the wish. It was as if he did.

"Sorcerer, you don't know what I am, do you?" Cloak repeated. "Well, allow me to enlighten you. You cannot use wind to be rid of me. You cannot use fire, water, wood, metal, or earth to be rid of me. And you can't simply wish me gone -- my kind are, to be rather blunt, magic Teflon. Even the magicks of a genie doesn't stick to us or affect us."

"What is this madness?" he demanded. "No such thing exists unless I decide it to be so!"

"You didn't have infinite wishes until recently, and it has already gone to your head, has it?" Cloak derided. "You cannot get rid of me so easily, sorcerer. As it should be with problems. You shouldn't be able to magically ignore your problems or cast them aside as if they have little significance. You have to deal with them, not ignore them.

"Slave, I wish for you to get rid of him!!" he roared. Genie actually felt no compunction to do this, oddly enough.

"That won't work, sorcerer," Cloak said. "Magic won't work on me. I will not go away. I will remain here to remind you of the unconscionable nature of your actions. You clearly haven't a conscience of your own, so, if need be, I shall be that conscience."

"No! Begone!"

"No."

"Get lost!"

"No."

"Go away!"

"No."

"Slave, get rid of him!!"

[Cloak]

Releasing tomorrow's chapter a bit early.

New chapter.
 

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN:
Well, That Was Unexpected

"I've already told you," Cloak said, "the genie cannot fulfill that wish simply because he cannot blow me away, and elemental attacks are useless."

This was a bit of a bluff on Cloak's part, because there were ways to evict him that would make it very difficult for him to return. But Mercolocke didn't need to know that.

"I want you gone."

"We all want our problems to magically go away," Cloak said, waxing philosophic, "we all would like our consciences to magically go away at some point. But that's never a solution. The only way to deal with a problem is to address it, and find a solution from there."

"Don't psychoanalyze me, abomination," Mercolocke said, apparently thinking that was a stinging insult. It wasn't, not by a long shot.

"Sorcerer," Cloak said, seriously. "It's not too late. Redemption can come if you allow it, if you work toward it."

"'Redemption'?" Locke scoffed derisively. "I've the power now. I don't need the redeeming. I can do whatever I want!"

"You sound like a petulant child," Cloak said, stern and parental. "Only children think of doing whatever they please. Only children regard responsibility as something that burdens only others. You need to be accountable and responsible for your own actions."

"Slave, silence this annoying interloper!" he demanded. But, once again, the Genie was not forced to do so. "DO IT!!"

"I keep telling you," Cloak said, "magicks, no matter how powerful, have no effect, lasting or otherwise, on me or my kind. He can't grant such wishes due to this. Because they cannot and will not work."

"Silence!"

"No," Cloak said. "This clearly the only time in your unnecessarily lengthened lifespan that you ever had someone stand up to you with the power to back it up. And you do what all tinhorn dictators do. You cry and rage and blubber and bemoan. You cannot force me into subservience, not through magic not through any other means."

"Be silent!!" he demanded, sounding more like a tantruming toddler.

"No." Cloak said, firmly, treating him as a toddler having a tantrum. "You've been alive for millennia, Mercolock. It is really time that you grow up."

Mercolock didn't stop to realize that Cloak had used his name, revealing that Cloak had done his research into this sorcerer. Whatever let him to want to look up and read up on him wasn't clear, but chances were that it was just a name he came by when Cloak was just reading in the library. The Dwellers written languages were so different from his kind, but interesting nonetheless.

No, Mercolock looked as if he wanted to throw things at Cloak, looked as if he had forgotten entirely about the Genie or attacking Cloak indirectly. He was always a straightforward type of person, and only really got creative when it had to with malice or vengeance . . . or humiliation. Mercolock yearned to shut that smug face of this interloper. He thought he knew so much. This cloaked figure didn't know anything about him! Who was he to him?! He couldn't use the Genie to attack him. He was wider than this creature but this creature was taller than him by at least a foot.

"You need to grow up, Mercolock," Cloak repeated. "In all this millennia, it's quite amazing that you haven't grown as a person -- at least from the limited accounts that I've read. If anything, you've seen to have regressed."

"You don't know me!" he growled. "You don't know what what I've gone through to get to this point!"

"You were it on your face, and show it in the recklessness of your actions," Cloak said.

"Be silent!!!"

"No."

"Shut yer trap!!"

"No, Mercolock, I shall not be doing that."

Then the sorcerer acted without thinking, an impulsive act that he regretted immediately. He had only registered for a brief moment in his anger that his right hand had something really solid in it. He threw it at Cloak to shut him up, and only realized when it had left his reach.

He had thrown the lamp at Cloak.

[Cloak]

New chapter.
 

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN:
Tying Up These Loose Ends

But, of course, Cloak caught it.

"Why, thank you, Mercolock," Cloak said, with faux gratitude and a note of overt sarcasm, having caught the lamp in his left hand,  "But if you wanted me to have the lamp, you could have handed it over instead."

"GIVE ME THAT BACK!!" he roared making his way to that, only to find himself inside a golden-scarlet energy bubble.

"No," Cloak said, removing Mercolock's talisman from the lamp, and reducing it to powder.

"MY TALISMAN!!" he screeched. "You had no right!!"

"Do not engage me in an argument of rights," Cloak warned, his tone turning dangerous for the first time. "You have a lot more discrepancies in that regard on your name than I do on mine. Perhaps that's why you changed it."

Then he addressed the Genie, although he couldn't help but feel a little hypocritical with what he was now about to do. "Genie, I get three wishes now, do I not?"

"You hold the lamp and never made a wish," he said, as if he was unsure what Cloak was planning. "So, yes."

"Good. My first wish," Cloak said, part of him wishing how it didn't have to come down to this, "I wish for Mercolock's immortality to be revoked and for him to find and keep his conscience and compassion and become an upstanding member of society until his death."

"WHAT?! No!" he roared, though muffled by the bubble he was in. But it was too late, as the Genie (almost gleefully) granted the wish and he vanished from the room.

"My second wish," Cloak said, "I wish this fortress reverts back to its former state as a skyscraper, harmless to the populace of the city."

The Genie again granted this wish with much appreciated gusto. However, Cloak and the Genie did not go with the tower and were just inside the edge of the forest. A nice mediation spot that wasn't too far from the forum and not compromised. But Cloak didn't concern himself with that at that moment.

"Now, it's time to stop all this wishing nonsense," Cloak said, as the Genie actually got scared, "ironically, not only with my final wish, but yours, too."

"You can't kill me," he said, at once.

"I never said that I would," Cloak said. "Genie, for my final wish. I wish that the Genie of the Lamp . . . was a real boy with caring, loving parents, friends, a life -- the whole shebang, with no remnants or memories of being a genie."

"What . . . ?" the Genie asked, almost as if what he heard was too good to possibly be true.

"You heard me. You're free." Cloak said, releasing the lamp as it was the one who granted this wish this time. The Genie's cobalt blue color disappeared slowing as it became a more human-like skin tone. Then his clothing became more contemporary as he vanished in bluish-white light. Without a genie to inhabit it, the lamp began to crumble away into dust.

It was done. All his magic would fade as well, all the wishes the RAFians made, Atreyu would become a man again, all of it undone.

***

Gene Kinder was performing at his school's play. It wasn't a big part, but he didn't care. He was on stage, and acting. He loved doing it, loved losing himself in a role. He was incredibly happy and content with his life thus far. Granted, he was only eleven going on twelve, but it was a good life thus far. His parents were some of the best anyone could ask for, Jonathan and Martha Kinder were doting on him, being supportive but firm with him. Both were greengrocers, and worked hard to provide for Gene. Gene didn't have any siblings, with Gene having been their miracle child.

Gene had no memory of ever being the Genie of the Lamp. He had no remnants of the magic he possessed as a genie. He was a flat-scan human now -- a human without any powers whatsoever. He was just extremely talented at acting and comedy, although he didn't like having anything on his wrists, where the manacles were as a genie.

He would be okay, and happy.

[Cloak]

New chapter.
 

CHAPTER NINETEEN:
I've Got This

Cloak had returned to the Nexus, taking up the offer to be a member of the Realm Walker Council, only to find out that he was the only Councilor there.

"There's still a lot to go. Sure that you can handle it?" Faith had asked. She was genuinely concerned about his well-being. She always was good to him -- granted they would have disagreements, what siblings didn't?

"Uh, sure . . ." Cloak said, putting up a front. He was hiding his own feeling of insecurity and inadequacy. He sang:

"Council decision-making?
I think I'm ready to do it.
Yes, sure, I'm slightly faking,
But there can't be that much to it.
Bring it on, I'm ready 'cause I've got this,
I've got this.
Just watch!"

Then the security bird steward said, "Councilor Cloak, may I present . . . your most humble constituency?"

An equine Realm Walker sang as he jabbed and accusing finger at a rival equine Realm Walker:

"He won't let my [translation unavailable] graze
Next to his without a fight!"

Then an anteater Realm Walker barber jabbed an accusing claw at a cricket Realm Walker with a musical instrument that superficially resembled a fiddle.

"How can I cut hair
with this guy fiddling day and night?"

A murine Realm Walker sang:

"Lately half the city's
overrun by homeless kitties."

A canine Realm Walker sang:

"Stealling everything in sight!"

Cloak responded in song:

"Right.
Pasture land is public,
I decree you'll have to share.
Earplugs will do you wonders.
You'll receive an official pair!
Henceforth it is written,
We'll feed every homeless kitten
Here within the council square!
Fair?"

A cheer went around, and Cloak sang in response:

"Folks the line starts there!"

Meanwhile, Faith sang, as she watched:

"He's got a knack for reigning,
So far he's holding steady.
But folks are still complaining,
So let's not throw confetti.
Nonetheless, I guess my baby brother has got this.
He's got this.
No prob!"

"Is that the last of them?" Cloak asked the secretary bird Realm Walker.

"Well, uh, not exactly," was his reply.

The two equine farmers had returned with another complaint:

"Since we shared the pasture,
we can't tell whose [translation unavailable] are whose!"

The anteater barber was back, with a client, a Chinese crested dog Realm Walker. And one of the ugliest ones Cloak had ever seen.

"I can't hear my customers
And ruin all their dos!"

The murine Realm Walker sang:

"Now the homeless are quiet."

The canine Realm Walker sang:

"But the right-wingers are running riot
Up and down the avenues!"

A few hours later, when all the issues were summarily dealt with, Cloak sat, slumped in his chair.

"Gateburst, what a huge disaster,
And everybody knew it.
I had one job to master,
And I completely blew it.
I was so Veiled certain that I got this,
But I'm not this . . .
Who would have thought how far from getting this
I could get?

To think that he wouldn't have ever accepted this position had RAF not been shut down and his fellow RAFians dispersed . . .

Then he woke up in confusion. Was that just a dream fueled on fear, or was it a Truth Dream? It was very difficult to tell these days. Or any day really.


SOURCE SONG: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t_dowx6oKdg

[Cloak]

New chapter.
 

CHAPTER TWENTY:
Magma, May I?

Cloak wad dispatched to a geothermal plant, which was evacuated immediately after a fiend decided to make it its nest. For good reason, Cloak believed. Clearly this fiend had fire or magma-related abilities. While fire was one of the Six Elements, magma was not. Cloak couldn't control it -- although, to be fair, he had never tried, just like he had never tried to manipulate ice (which was just solid water, akin to how magma was just a more viscous variation of Earth). And naturally this facility was located near a semi-active volcano.

First thing he noticed when he had arrived on-scene, was that there were lava pits dotting the floor here and there. For a moment he thought that this was a grievous OSHA violation, until he noticed that those weren't here naturally. They were put in, presumably by the fiend, to make it feel more comfortable in the facility that it decided was to be its nest. But Cloak made it through, platforming only as a cat could -- with dignity and grace. Then he headed up a ladder above a large pit of lava -- which had obvious indications of not being there when the facility was evacuated.

He climbed the ladder, and turned to the right and went up a flight of stairs to his left. Then, once atop that flight of stairs, he turned left and proceeded forward. Until he came to an area were magma and lava fell as if they were supposed to be a water feature on an expensive homestead. Cloak considered the job security of this place with the fiend's changes in place. The employees should get hazard pay  . . or find a safer line of work. Then he came to a dropshaft, and dropped down. He really didn't like the heat in this place -- they were this close to a semi-active volcano and they didn't have a cooling system? Or was it overtaxed until it went down? Or did the fiend do something to it because he preferred it hot?

Cloak proceeded forward into a short hallway until a short flight staircase to his left, then he rounded a corner atop the flight of stairs to another dropshaft. He dropped down, and landed roughly. Where he had to confront a pyrokinetic construct of a dragon of Asian design, and Cloak's eyes flashed. The construct vanished, as if the fire itself was afraid of going against an Elemental Master. He continued onward, into the actual volcano itself. The walls were now stone instead of metal. There was metallic platforms dotted here and there, but it seemed to be a straight shot to the the nest of the fiend. He entered the room with a textured stone ceiling and a floor with a large divot in it.

The fiend had its face in its chest, and its face only consisted of two, round, human-like eyes (dark green sclera and pale purple irises), with its head/chest and long shoulders culminating into silver-tipped volcano-like structures, which had white above the fiend's eyes, which spewed fire and magma, and corresponding areas on its shoulders, with the rounded bottoms of the shoulders being black. It's short upper arms were white, with both lower arms being cannons of some sort. It's main body was green with two vents beneath each of its eyes, and a ruby in the middle of its chest beneath its eyes. It's crotch and thighs were white, and its lower legs and pontoon-like feet were green.

When it saw Cloak, it immediately started its attack pattern. This one was surprisingly simple. It just jumped and fired three fireballs in his general direction. Cloak wondered about its depth perception, as two of these fireballs were nowhere near him. But he just backhanded the one that got anywhere near him, which flew faster when he did so then it did when it came toward him.

Cloak decided to end this quickly, though he didn't use the Fire Element. He still harbored some fear over the element, despite whatever he showed outwardly to the contrary. Cloak swirled around and caused blast after blast of air to hit the fiend. The air put out the fire on its head, and the repeated blasts began to interrupt its attack pattern. It was clearly simple-minded, even for fiend standards.

It wasn't too long before it couldn't take anymore of the aerokinetic onslaught. It succumbed rather quickly, and Cloak had left without any regrets, only looking back once.

***

Demos called it "magumasapien". He claimed that he designed it to oversee safety operations and manage geothermal plants.

***

Malice was still struggling with scheme block, but she had this battle on as background noise.

[Cloak]

New chapter.
 

BOOK CLXX:
HAT'S OFF
CHAPTER ONE:
Char-A-Lot Hornets

Blaze had been dispatched to this mission, to a flower park. He had been busy sulking that his three wishes he had made with that Genie had vanished. He had gotten a powerful, unbreakable sword of the design of the Master Sword, as well as two other weapons that he didn't like nearly as much as that sword. Though the flowers were uplifting his mood rather significantly, surprisingly enough.

He folded his wings and moved forward. He had a replacement sword that he didn't find as good as the magically-obtained one that he had, but it would serve his needs for now. He looked at his environment and found it a bit eerie that it was abandoned. It was evacuated when the fiend decided to make this its nest. He moved forward until he had to scramble up a ladder onto the second floor.

Once atop of the ladder, he stepped out into a room with a ladder which the bottom part had been destroyed. He felt sorry that the employees here wouldn't be able to fly up to the part of the ladder as he was able to. Though he did appreciate how open and airy this place was and felt. This was not claustrophobic in the least. When he arrived atop the ladder, he proceeded to the right.

He looked up and saw that the ceiling was covered with staves -- obviously for flowering vines. If not for those, then there was no reason to have them all over the ceiling, other than a workplace hazard. Blaze couldn't imagine that that being legal. The area become slightly more enclosed, and then he came to a rather shaky ground. Ground that appeared to be easily breakable. It crumbled under his feet, and he suspected that this was the endeavors of the fiend. Fortunately, thanks to his wings, he could control his descent into whatever laid at the bottom of this area. Blaze wasn't even sure that he was still in the flower park proper anymore.

It was a place with platforms in a circular pattern with vines connecting them. Beneath it, were more of those plant stave things, acting like spikes. This could not be sanctioned by the government, unless these employees are getting severe hazard pay. Blaze saw a dropshaft, and fluttered over to it, diving down it. When he reached the bottom, he moved rightward, toward the outside of this area, with more of these flower staves on the ground, which he flew over without a problem. Then he dove down another dropshaft, and then up another flight of stairs. Then he immediately rounded a corner and dove down a dropshaft.

When he landed, he noticed that this floor had a lot of obvious divots, presumably for planting flowers that they have not yet done. He swooped over this segment, looking for the fiend's nest. It had to be close by. He proceed forward, before taking a left, following this corridor. He rounded a corner and up a flight of stairs, before turning right and proceeding forward. It was a straight run to the nest. Blaze could see it. A closed-off room, with honeycomb-like designs, a large divot in the ceiling, and a small hill in the center of the room.

The fiend had purple head with a black visor and a faceplate like that of a Cybertronian with a black stinger-like spike at the crest of its head, with black human-like ears. It had human-like eyes with pale purple sclera and black irises. It's chest was like a faceless Combee without antennae and pale red with s white interior, which would open up and fire bee drones. Its upper arms are white, its lower arms are red, its wrists were white, and its hands were black. It's abdomen, crotch, and thighs were white, with a white belt with a black buckle across its waist. It's lower legs were red with white bands midway down, and its pod-like feet were black.

It was when Blaze unsheathed his sword, with a wavy blade, and lit it on fire. After doing this, the fiend took notice. It immediately started an attack pattern -- because that's the only way these fiends knew how to attack. It leaped up, using some sort of jet boosters on its feet, and basically spawned three bee drones and fired them at Blaze, who slashed them all down with a singular strike from his fire sword. Then the fiend landed, and ran to the other side of the room. Blaze narrowed his eyes. It would have been smarter to try to tackle him in the air. This was a transparent strategy. It was just going to do --

Yep, he did the same thing. And Blaze did the same thing, slashing them all down in a single strike. Blaze, still airborne, then fired three fireballs with all the force of a bazooka. All three hit the fiend. And Blaze kept it up until the fiend was finished.

There. It was done. And so was he. He wanted out of this flowery paradise.

***

Demos called it a "honettosapien", and claimed that he designed it to manage a flower park and pollinate them when necessary. The other RAFians gave him strange looks when he said this, to which he responded, "What?"

***

Malice had fallen asleep, desperate for an idea. She did not like this scheme drought that she was having. If she didn't come up with something soon, her relevance might suffer.

[Cloak]

Releasing tomorrow's chapter thirteen minutes early.
 

CHAPTER TWO:
Monster and Breach

Cloak was in his thread, watching one of the many fears he had come into fruition. He was seeing the forum suffer and burn. The buildings were starting to erode during the sandstorm he created when he couldn't control his emotions, his powers. He sang to himself as he felt her approach.

It's finally come.
Come to knock down the door.
I can't hide this time,
Like I hid before.
The sandstorm is awake.
The danger is real.
My time's running out . . .
Don't feel, don't feel.
"Fear will be your enemy
And death it's consequence"
That's what she once had said to me,
And it"s starting to make sense.
All this pain, all this fear. . . .
Began because of me,
Is the thing they see
The thing I have to be?
A monster, as they write,
Has the dark in me finally come to light?
Am I a monster,
Full of rage
Nowhere to go, but on a rampage?
Or am I just a monster, in a cage?
What do I do?
No time for crying now,
I started a sandstorm.
Gotta stop it somehow.
Do I keep running?
How far do I have to go?
And would that take the sandstorm away.
Or only make it grow?
I'm making my world worse.
How long can it survive?
Is everyone in danger as long as I'm alive?
Was I a monster from the start?
How did I end up with this wounded heart?
Bringing destruction to the stage.
Caught in a war that I never meant to wage.
Do I kill the monster?
Wheeza, you knew what was best for me
If I die, will they be free?
Faith,
What if, after I'm gone,
The sand gets rougher, and the sandstorm rages on?
No, I have to stay alive to fix what I've done.
Save the realm from myself,
And bring back the sun!
If I'm a monster . . .
And it's true . . .
There's only one thing
That's left for me to do!
But before . . .
Before I fade to white . . .
I'll do all that I can
To make things right
I cannot be a monster.
I will not be a monster.
Not tonight!"

Cloak awoke with a start, and wondered again why parts of his subconscious won't allow him to let go of this part of his past. What is done is done, what is past is past. Nothing can change it, so why dwell on it? He had mastered his emotions, for the most part. He looked up from his bed, and could tell by the utter lack of activity in the forum, it was quite late at night.

***

Yarin was currently monitoring the planet's atmosphere for any inconsistencies or incursions or the like. He was doing his usual exemplary work with it, though he was grousing. He had wasted his time with that genie. He had wished all three wishes on his ship, ensuring that it was indestructible and its systems were immune to hacks or glitches or similar. He was so ecstatic that the wishes had been granted and was completely crestfallen when the magic faded away. He understood what and why Cloak did what he did, but he secretly was irritated at the Realm Walker for it. Freeing the genie reversed all his contemporary magic, and possibly some of his older ones that were still relevant.

"What the -- seriously?" he said, when he caught something in the display screens out the corner of one of his right eyes. Four lifeforms had penetrated the lower mesosphere of the planet and was falling through the stratosphere. It had already penetrated the exosphere and thermosphere. And the instruments indicated that there were in fact four lifeforms within this object. It could not get any more specific on the species or the design of the object that they were riding -- other than it seemed to be a small, metallic object. Almost shaped like a large, round hatbox, and of a similar size.

And it was falling to the ground at a remarkable rate. It was now well within the Earth's troposphere, and seemed to move of its own volition. This was definitely a ship of some sort, Yarin hurriedly checked the instruments and readouts and all relevant data about this, he would report it to the others when the urgency has passed. Yarin spat several Nyac curses as he continued to struggle to pinpoint its trajectory and prospective crash sites or landing sites.

"Stop fighting me, you --" Yarin said, frustrated. "Give me the coordinates.Give me the -- JUST GIVE ME THE COORDINATES!!"

The readings weren't so obliging, however, and seemingly was continuing to a dilatory strategy to make the Nyac reduced to violence against these computers. No coordinates came, much to the Nyac's irritation.

"Stupid archaic, pieces of --" and Yarin devolved into Nyac curses. This was taking too long! These aliens of unknown origin could be doing anything! They could be maneaters! They could be peaceful, but that would be unlikely, otherwise they would have hailed RAFian communications or that of the government. You know, do it properly. Clearly, they didn't want to be known. They could be parasites . . . this could be like the Heilins all over again.

And the RAFians would probably be scapegoated for it, like the government (to cover up their own inherent incompetence) tried to do after that particular incident..

SOURCE SONG: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b0T6N6sevm4

[Cloak]

New chapter.
 

CHAPTER THREE:
The Curse of Curiosity

The ship was indeed the size and shape of a hatbox. It was an odd design for a spacecraft whose purpose was interstellar and intrastellar travel. The lifeforms within this ship were indeed small, far smaller than that of an average-size human. It crashed into a heavily forested area, far out in what the humans would call the "boonies".

But, just as it would happen, four teenagers were driving by. They were dressed in retro clothing, as they were on their way home from a retro diner on some sort of double date. Their attire suggested something from the late thirties or early forties. There were two girls and two boys, none wearing hats, which was odd considering their outfits. One girl was blonde and wore frilly pinkish white attire while the other girl was a brunette wearing a red dress that appeared to be made of satin. The boys wore button-down, long-sleeve white shirts, black slacks. One wore black suspenders while the other wore a black vest and matching bowtie. The teenager with the bow tie was Drew Garrett, the one with the suspenders was Reggie Smythe, the one in red was Veronica Rowe, and the one in pinkish-white was Betty Grundy. Reggie was an unabashed comic book fan, and he was currently geeking out in the back of the relic of a car that Drew was currently driving. Night was beginning to fall, and all four had rather strict curfews.

"Drew!" Reggie said.

"What?" he responded.

"Pull over," Reggie said.

"For what?" he said, annoyed.

Reggie told him in a rather inelegant way that he had to . . . well, use the toilet. It was a heavily wooded area, and dark, and they didn't think anyone would see. They were devil-may-care teenagers, as well, thinking that nothing really bad could ever happen to them. That kind of misfortune was for other people, detached from them. Drew reluctantly complied, and Reggie did what he needed. They actually heard the ship's crash landing.

"Listen!" said Betty. "Did you hear that?"

"Wow!" Reggie exclaimed, as he made his way back to the car.

"Wow! Did you see that?" Drew exclaimed, almost in a campy manner.

"I think it must've been a spaceship," Reggie claimed.

"Knock it off with that comic book stuff," Veronica sighed.

"C'mon! Let's got take a look before someone else gets there," Drew said, his adventurous spirit piqued. Veronica gave him a very clear "are you effing serious?" sort of look that he evidently did not see.

It did't take them too long to reach the area of the road where the crash site was just off of. Drew proclaimed when they arrived, "I think it crashed just over that cliff. C'mon, let's go take a look!"

"What about us?" Veronica said, indicating her and Betty.

"Yeah," Betty agreed, "we're gonna miss curfew!"

"First, we gotta see the meteor!" Drew declared, as he and Reggie went running off. Veronica huffed as she sat back in her seat.

It didn't take the two boys too long to find the hatbox spaceship. They hadn't a clue what was inside. But Drew declared loudly with a human expletive when he saw it, despite it really looking like nothing more than a metal hatbox. He was clearly feeling rather excitable right this moment.

"See? I told ya it was a spaceship!" Reggie said.

"Nah," Drew said, dismissively, "It looks like a hatbox. But metal."

A shrill trilling sound came from the hatbox, and the two boys were starting to feel the beginnings of fear.

"Drew, there's something alive in there," Reggie said, with certainty.

"Yeah," Drew agreed. Then he looked around, and picked up a rock of an irregular shape.

"Hey, wait a minute, what the eff are you doing?" Reggie demanded, when he saw what Drew was doing.

"Gonna pry it open and see what's inside," Drew answered.

"What if they're aliens in there?" Reggie insisted.

"Then they'll be glad that I'm letting them out," Drew replied. He was being very foolish, truth be told.

"Yeah? What if they ain't glad? What if they're mad?" Reggie countered.

Drew pushed Reggie aside, and began to pry the lid off the extraterrestrial hatbox with the stone. The lid came off and issued a bright white light. Artificial light.

"Wow. Look at this," Drew said, with a smile.

"Hey, Drew? Let's get the heck outta here. This place gives me the creeps." Reggie tried to persuade Drew.

"Don't be such a pansy," Drew said, dismissing Reggie's warnings and keeping with his foolishness. He reached a hand out and then his mind, his memory blurred and faded to black as he saw those hypnotic eyes . . .

[Cloak]

New chapter.
 

CHAPTER FOUR:
This Is Like the Heilins All Over Again

"Did you hear a scream?" Betty asked Veronica.

"Probably just those two horsing around while we're here dying of boredom," Veronica said, with lukewarm causticity.

"We better go look for them," Betty said, leaving the car.

"Suit yourself," Veronica said, waspishly. "But don't be surprised if I'm not here when you get back."

It didn't take Betty long at all to find the boys, standing in front of the hatbox ship. Their faces looked a bit dazed but otherwise no different. Drew was now wearing a deep crimson derby -- a hard, round, felt hat with a narrow brim . . . and cartoonish eyes where the crown meets the brim, it appeared -- and Reggie was wearing a honey-colored cowboy hat -- a high-crowned, broad-brimmed hat . . . again with cartoonish eyes where the crown meets the brim.

She addressed to the two boys, without mentioning their newest headgear, "What is that thing?"

She stepped between them, and exclaimed, "It looks like a diner!"

"Why don't you take a closer look?" Drew said. Betty did not seem to realize there was a change in his voice, that it didn't sound right. Nor did she seem aware that they were no wearing hats.

She did as she was instructed, and then she felt her mind go blurry. Then fade to blackness.

***

Meanwhile, Veronica was feeling bored and miffed. She leaned over and honked the car's horn, hoping that would make her three fellows hurry up with whatever they were doing in there. She was getting tired of waiting. She waited only a few seconds before sounding the horn yet again, to no avail.

"Why did you do that?" Drew asked, in a rather creepy manner, which caused Veronica to gasp and jump in surprise.

"Oh, god," she said, placing her hand on her chest, "you almost scared me to death! Get in."

"No," Drew said. "You come with me. . . ."

He did not take her kicking and screaming, he just put a cobalt blue flat cap -- a rounded cap with a small stiff brim in front, with cartoonish eyes between the crown and the brim. She didn't fight or scream as she blinked once. Twice. Three times, before exiting the car of her own volition. They all went to the ship where Reggic and Betty, now wearing a whitish-pink wide-brimmed fedora -- a hat with a soft brim and indented crown, and cartoonish eyes were the brim and crown met.

"Welcome to the club, Madcap," Drew said, addressing Veronica. "How does your new host feel?"

"Ugh. She doesn't have much of a brain," Madcap said, but she was not speaking with Veronica's voice. But rather "her' more bass, masculine voice.

"Darby, I've looked at the ship," "Reggie" said.

"How bad is it, Tex?" Darby said.

"The fuel line was hit," Tex replied. "We'll need more . . . it's irritating that these human bodies cannot pronounce it. But the fact is, we'll need more of it."

"What are we going to do?" Andorra, the Chapeausapien riding atop Betty's head, asked.

"We'll check in town to see if we can find the necessary items," Darby said.

"What about the regents?" Andorra queried. "What if they followed us in?"

"This is a protected biosphere," Darby said. "Not to mention that they have that thing about taking involuntary hosts. And according to this human, there are plenty of hosts for us to use here. After we deal with the regents, once our numbers have propagated enough, we can come back and take this planet. But, for now, we have our priorities."

Then "he" stopped and considered for a moment.

"We should mimic these humans' voices, as well," Darby said, now in a perfect imitation of Drew's voice and vocal mannerisms. "We don't need to attract more attention to ourselves."

"Agreed," the other three said, following suit.

[Cloak]

New chapter.
 

CHAPTER FIVE:
Investigation and Potentially Exposed

The RAFians had finally got the coordinates of the crash site, much to Yarin's frustration. The Nyac swore to find a way to update and recalibrate the instruments to be as effective as they should be. Yarin would go himself, and Cloak tagged along as well. They immediately traveled to the crash site, and saw the hatbox ship.

"I know this is a spacecraft of some kind," Yarin said, narrowing all six of his eyes. "But I don't recognize the make or model."

"I think I do," Cloak said. "Some aliens from a planet called Fez."

"Fez?"

Cloak nodded, "I think the species itself is called 'Brainteasers', or 'Chapeausapiens', or 'Osakouburi'. I don't know which one is the proper name, though."

"'Chapeausapiens' should suffice," Yarin said, examining the ship. "They can't be very large -- this ship can fit in the back of a pickup truck."

"Chapeausapiens are exoparasites," Cloak said. "Their outward appearance is similar to hats of human design, only with moderately sized eyes compared to the size of the rest of their bodies. When they sit upon a being's head, they take over that being, unless they're already wearing something on their head."

"Like toupees?"

"That may be an exception, though I don't know for sure," Cloak said. "Most information on Chapeausapiens and Fez aren't very well known. At least, in that other Realm. But using a type of hair gel could make their four sucker-like feet unable to adhere to the heads of their hosts and making their hosts sneeze can break their control, at least momentarily."

"And this is their spacecraft," Yarin said. "But why come here."

"All I know, at least in that other realm," Cloak said, "is that they were having some regime political problems. Specifics unknown. Perhaps that's what is happening here. But this is pure speculation on my part."

"And here's the thing," Yarin said, "this ship appears to be empty."

"Which means that they either on foot or found some hapless humans to be their hosts," Cloak deduced.

"Considering their hat-like physiology," the Nyac said, "in addition to their own eyes on them, they shouldn't be all that hard to --"

Yarin fell silent, and Cloak knew exactly why. Yarin clearly sense the minds of these Chapeausapiens, and Cloak could Earthsight four figures. Yarin cast a cursory glance at Cloak, "Four?"

"Four," he said. "They're now running away."

"What's our next move?" the Nyac asked.

"If we go after them, we might lose them," Cloak said. Then he looked at the ship. "But they came back here for this ship. I surmise that they'll return yet again for it."

"If I have a good enough understanding of their tech, I'd say that this ship's fuel like was damaged severely," Yarin said, thoughtfully. "There is no way that they could get this thing airborne again without repairs. Assuming that I have this right, in the first place."

"What fuel do they use? Some sort of crystallic fusion or fission?" Cloak asked, in an almost clinical way. "I doubt it's fossil fuels."

"It appears to be some sort of liquid derivative of zoodeitium," Yarin said. "Some sort of in-between of zoodeitium and hacksilver. I have no name for it. But, I am sure of one thing."

"And what is that?"

"That there is nothing like it found naturally on this planet," Yarin said. "I suppose plutonium comes the closest to being viable to being used, and, as you know, that's not really a legal substance to go walking around in your pocket."

"Okay, then," Cloak said, "in any case, we should secure the ship and bring it to the forum for safekeeping."

***

"Our cover's been blown," Tex said, as the four made it back to the road where these humans' car still sat, idling. He was using his own voice, and not bothering to pretend to be his host. "Compromised!"

"They know we are here," Andorra concurred. "The tall one pointed us out and the scrawny Tetramand with too many eyes sensed us."

"All is not lost," Darby said. "We are not at a disadvantage yet."

"But we're compromised!" Madcap said, almost whiny.

"No!" Darby said, forcefully. "We are not compromised. These humans are."

"What are you suggesting?" Tex asked.

"I would think it would be obvious," Darby said. "We need to be a bit more inconspicuous."

[Cloak]

New chapter.
 

CHAPTER SIX:
Hopping Hats

"This should be better," Madcap said, smugly, with its own voice. The Chapeausapien rode atop the head of a muscular pilot with a prominent chin and sparse hair. Tex said nothing, having taken a twiggy, suburban dad, while Andorra couldn't find one as she, due to being a wide-brimmed fedora, was rather more conspicuous than the other three, with Tex being the second most conspicuous.

"Don't get too comfortable," Darby said, replying with its own voice. The Chapeausapien now was atop the head of a blonde boy with thick glasses, and was obviously the de facto leader. "We have to shuffle our hosts around to make sure that those two beings can't find us. Remember to hide your eyes as well!"

Then, almost as if to demonstrate, Darby leaped from the boy's head onto the redhead girl who was his best friend, leaving the blonde boy confused and dazed. Tex took this opportunity to take him, leaving his previous host open. Andorra took him for its host. Then Darby abandoned the redhead girl for the blond boy's blond mother, and then turned to address the other three.

"Again, don't get comfortable," Darby said, not bothering to disguise its true voice. "Hide your eyes, Madcap!"

"But I can't see then, Darby!" it protested.

"Use your hosts eyes, fool. We have to look like those husks so no one will suspect us." Darby said. It, like Tex and Andorra had their true eyes closes and were using their hosts' eyes to see. With their true eyes closed on their hat form, they looked like ordinary hats -- or "husks" as they called them.

"Why?"

"Use your brain, Madcap!" Tex said, aggressively. Like the others, it used its own true voice through the boy's mouth. "How will we ever get the ship back if we're compromised?"

"But we don't have those hosts anymore," Madcap said. He was evidently the youngest Chapeausapien of the bunch, and possessed the naivety and inexperience of such. "We should be fine."

"Madcap, seriously, darling? We stand out if they see our eyes. This isn't a cartoon or anything." she said. She pulled "cartoon" from her hosts brain. "We need to get the ship back."

"I know that," Madcap said.

"Let's not forget that the ship still needs repairs," Darby said. "It still has the one thing that can stop the regents on Fez."

"At least the containment field containing the . . . toppr (huh, at least these humans can pronounce that correctly). Anyway, the containment field containing the toppr was still active, restraining the beast."

"Even with the fuel leak?" Andorra asked.

"Separate power sources," Tex explained, tilting his juvenile host's head upward to look at Andorra. He had his true eyes closed, and was looking through this host's eyes. It left much to be desired, hence the thick glasses. "Fortunately, the secondary power source was not damaged at all."

"Couldn't we just jury-rig that to the fuel supply?" Madcap asked

"Later," Darby said, eyeing some new hosts with its hosts' eyes. "Let's have a little change."

Within moments, all four had different host bodies. Darby had taken a soccer mom, a tad thicker and shorter than its last host, while its three fellows took on her three boys, all in sports uniforms.

"This should suffice for a time," Tex said. This time he actually used its host's voice rather than its own. Tex also shut its true eyes.

"Andorra," Darby said, with a commanding tone. "Switch hosts with me. A human juvenile male wearing a 'husk' like you might cause unwanted attention. At least, according to the humans I've worn."

They hopped off the heads as soon as Darby knelt down, and quickly switched before either host regained lucidity. They quickly succumbed to Chapeausapien control.

"As we were saying," Madcap said. It realized that it was speaking with its own voice, and quickly and deftly switched to using its host's voice. "Couldn't we jury-rig the secondary power source to fuel the ship?"

"It might be possible," Tex said. "But it might not be enough to get us back to Fez. And it would risk unleashing the toppr. You know how vicious that thing is. It can tear up one of our kind within minutes."

"According the humans that I've worn, darlings," Andorra said, using its host's voice as its fellows did, "these humans do not have any supply, much less ready access to, such substances. We may have to jury-rig it."

"It's my fault for getting that stupid jalopy in the first place," Darby growled. "Quality control is a hard-learned lesson."

[Cloak]

New chapter.
 

CHAPTER SEVEN:
Ship Secured

"How is the examination coming along?" Cloak asked Aquilai, Goom, Xeno, and Yarin. They were basically deconstructing the ship without taking it apart after it was brought and secured in the forum. They didn't disassemble it to basically autopsy it because it may prove to be a necessary bargaining chip with dealing with these Chapeausapiens.

"Well, my initial assessment seems right," Yarin said, dusting off both sets of hands. "It seems that its fuel source produces some sort of crystalline lattice as a waste byproduct which doesn't have any discernible use, though its composition is like an isotope of zoodeitium. Not exactly similar, mind you, but close enough."

"Still functional?" Cloak said.

"I would say that it still needs repairs," Xeno said, "but we don't know too much about this Fez technology. In fact, I've never heard of this species before. They resemble hats, you say?"

"Except for their rather cartoonish eyes, yes." Cloak said, austerely. "They are exoparasites, able to control a host by sitting directly on their heads. Thought I suppose the terms 'neuroparasites' and 'cephaloparasites' could apply."

"And there are four of them on the loose?" Aquilai asked, sharply.

"Yes, but they'll come back for the ship," Cloak said, still wearing that austere look.

"Yeah, about that," Goom said, "we sent Underseen and Ash inside to inspect further. They turned into mice and went in -- the door's open, after all."

"What did they find out?" Cloak asked.

"Dunno," Xeno replied. "They haven't come out yet. They only went into the ship a few minutes ago."

"There may be dangers within that we're not aware of," Cloak warned. Of course, the warning came too late. "Who knows what kind of dangerous items these Chapeausapiens might have strewn about in there?"

Suddenly, two mice darted from the ship. Cloak's feline eyes noticed this movement immediately. Movement was always easier to see than color for him.

"What happened?" the Realm Walker said, at once.

"We got data from their computer," Ash said. "We couldn't read any of it, however."

"You aren't going to tell him about that hairy bear thing?!" Underseen said.

"'Hairy bear thing'?" Cloak repeated.

"It was a toupee," Ash said. "But . . . alive. And vicious."

"A . . . toupee?" Aquilai said, with a raised eyebrow. "Like a bear."

"It must seem as such to one of such a size as the Chapeausapiens," Cloak surmised. "It presumably possesses the same kind of abilities that the Chateausapiens themselves have, perhaps not to such a sophisticated degree, but that's neither here nor there. The toupee is of no threat to us."

"Well, they have it contained inside some sort of cage," Ash said.

"Doesn't mean that it's any less frightening," Underseen said moodily, almost as if he thought that Ash was minimizing his bravery.

From that description, Cloak was having flashbacks toward the Spirit-Drinker. He shook his head, as if to shake the thought away.

"No matter, if it's contained, we'll keep it that way." Cloak said. "We needn't complicate the issue unnecessarily."

[Cloak]

New chapter.
 

CHAPTER EIGHT:
Next Course of Action

"Where's the ship?" Andorra asked. It sat on the head of a camper with a red buzz cut in a uniform not unlike that of a cub scout, having abandoned her last host for this one just a hour or two before. The other three have followed suit, and taken the bodies of three other campers in cub scout-like uniforms. Even though it was in mid-September and a tad too chilly to really be camping comfortably. Also, it was speaking with its own voice instead of the campers and kept its own natural eyes open, as they were at the site where the ship was, and had no need to keep up the pretense.

"Isn't it bloody obvious?" Darby snapped. It sat upon the head of a camper with brown hair in a bowl cut. He had the most badges on the sash he wore. "Those two beings, whatever they were, took it to parts unknown!"

"What do we do now?" Madcap asked. It sat upon the head of a camper with messy black hair. This one had the least amount of badges on the sash he wore, only having one, singular badge.

"Good question," Tex concurred. It sat upon the head of a camper with the beginnings of a blonde mullet. This one had only four badges on the sash he wore, which was only more than Madcap's host. "We don't have any idea where they could have taken it."

"Not to mention these human minds aren't particularly useful for finding out anything about them," Darby said, cursing. "We'd have to hop from head to head to head to head to find something, some useful nugget that we can use."

"And there's no guarantee that that'll even work," Tex added. "If the hosts I've worn are correct, there are about six or seven BILLION of these humans on this planet."

"Surely, one would know something," Madcap interjected.

"It isn't feasible to check every. Single. One. Of them." Andorra sneered.

"We don't have that kind of time or energy," Darby growled. "Every second we waste here, those rebellious regents get stronger and stronger, and are taking over more and more of Fez! We need to deliver the toppr there to turn the tide!"

"We're at an impasse, then, Darby," Tex said.

"There has to be a way," Darby said, refusing to believe that this was the end. They fought so much for their supreme monarchy. So what if its rule was a little on the tyrannical side? The ends always justified the means! It was it's birthright to rule! It was it's right! So what if these peasants didn't like how they were treated? So what if these peasants didn't like the fact that they had to work longer hours for less pay? They should have felt lucky to even get anything to work for its greatness! So what if it skimped on healthcare and education? What did those things matter for the lesser Chapeausapiens? They didn't have any right to revolt, as far as Darby was concerned. Darby felt as if giving them the merest crumbs was sufficient and should have been considered as such by what it thought of as "peasants".

But it wasn't a monster, Darby believed. It did give the population a choice in who to vote to their version of parliament or congress. Granted, they were only candidates that it, itself, vetted and put forth. Naturally, each and every candidate were servile to this royal family and this voting for who to put into this congregation was just mockery of democracy itself. Any true dissenters were met with very . . . hostile resistance. The lethal kind.

Darby was unaware that this exact type of atmosphere has precisely the right ingredients stewing for rebellion. You can only oppress people of any species for a finite amount of time before the pushback would come, and push back HARD. Darby remained ignorant of this, and thinking that things should return to the status quo. A status quo none in the working class on Fez wanted to return to -- or at least seven to eighty percent of the populace.

Once they have the toppr as a weapon, they'll fall in line. They'll know their place. They claim that they have rights to this and that? Not if Darby and the Fez elite say as such. They only have rights that Darby and the royal line decide they should have -- they have no constitutional rights, as there is no Fez constitution. Darby's ancestors tore that ratty thing up eons ago. They didn't need a stinkin' constitution, as far as Darby and its family and the rest of the Fez elite were concerned.

"We have find a way," Darby said, stubbornly and firmly.

[Cloak]

New chapter.
 

CHAPTER NINE:
A Possible Impasse

"What do we do with this thing now?" Underseen asked. "As long as we keep that thing contained, that is. It's liable to take off someone's hand."

"Or head," Ash agreed.

"Agreed," Cloak said. "We should keep the ship, and the toupee thing inside, secured. Those Chapeausapiens will come to try to collect it, or try to."

"How can they do that, though?" Underseen said. "Code Avalon will prevent anyone without a Mark entry, unless they're known by us."

"Don't forget," Cloak said. "That person -- Ima Atreyu -- managed to get in and steal the lamp."

Underseen cast Cloak a rather dark, accusatory look at the mention of the lamp. "And you made it so that our wishes, all of them, became undone."

Cloak lost none of his poise, and spoke with dignity, "I freed a slave. Nothing less, nothing more."

"You freed a genie," Yarin said. Cloak didn't much care for the tone. "Now my ship's vulnerable to being damaged again, just like going to that place."

"It was a scratch," Cloak countered easily. "You just needed touch-up paint. There is no point in grousing over that, Yarin."

"Touch-up paint!" Yarin said, throwing up all four arms, as if Cloak suggested putting a band-aid on a leaking dam.

"You two are letting your greed blind you," Cloak said, stern now. "That genie was trapped forced to grant wishes, but not of his own accord. Especially when that warlock put his medallion on the lamp and got unlimited wishes. That was torturous for the genie. He has a life now. A life of his own and he's his own master now. Can you imagine what it must have been like for him? Being freed every millennia or so, for the sole reason of granting three wishes? Then being sucked into his portable prison? You would really condemn a being like that for countless eons more just so you can get petty materialistic gains, or things that should be earned through hard work and perseverance? You condemn me for you seeking the easy way instead of the proper way? When you gained your wishes, did they truly mean anything to you? You didn't strive for them. You didn't go on the appropriate journeys to get there. Yet you 'achieved' them just the same. Is that really not hollow to you?"

Silence met these words. Cloak hadn't a clue if anything he said landed and made an impression or not. But that was not the issue that they had to concern themselves with right now. The four Chapeausapiens were still at large and that they had to figure out how to bring them into custody before they harm any of the general populace with stolen bodies.

"We need to review the data," Yarin said, breaking the silence with a somber tone. He went over to a computer -- disconnected from the main server of the forum, in case this data has a hidden virus or something. Just as a precaution. Suddenly, a flurry of images flashed on the screen. The images showed a cyan Albanian-style hat, a blue Anthony Eden hat, an azure arakhchin, a magenta rice hat, a violet jaapi, a red aviator hat, a rose baggy green hat, a yellow baseball cap, an orange bearskin cap, a green bellboy cap, a chartreuse beret, a spring green bhaad-gaaule topi, a vermilion bicycle clip hat, an amber blangkon, a teal knit cap, a russet boonie hat, a plum boyar hat, a purple bucket hat, a slate busby hat, a citron by****et, a sage budenovka, a buff breton, a khaki Boss of the Plains hat, a golden yellow fugin, an orange peel boater hat, a scarlet black cap, a crimson bicorne, an aubergine bergere hat, an indigo beonggeoji, a turquoise beaver hat, a viridian beanie, an apple green barretina, a lime green ayam, a cerise attifet, an ultramarine aso oke, an erin ascot, a harlequin apex, a lime animal novelty hat, and more. But, before long, it stopped and had some strange writing upon it.

The Royal Family of Fez

"I can't read this language," Yarin said.

"It says 'the royal family of Fez'," Cloak said, "with 'Fez' obviously being their home planet."

"All those images were of some royal family of Chapeausapiens?" Yarin asked. "There are so many."

"It's probably a lineage thing," Cloak pointed out.

"But that brings to question why someone would have such potentially damaging data on their hard drives where anyone with decent hacking know-how can access it, assuming that they can read their language?" Ash added.

"Someone who is very, almost-psychotically proud of their heritage and lineage?" Cloak surmised. "Someone who wants everyone know that they came from a certain lineage or heritage."

"Why would anyone be this proud of it?" Underseen said, with a raised eyebrow.

"Perhaps because it has subsumed and engulfed their entire identity," Cloak suggested. "But this is just conjecture. What we should be talking about, however, is our next move, and how we can use this information to our advantage over those Chapeausapiens."