“Why didn’t you tell me this before?” T’balt was incensed, pacing around the room.

  Ellie remained unmoving in the bed. “I didn’t… want you to think of him differently. But it seems you already did.”

  “If I had known, I would’ve... I wouldn’t have… Ugh.” He forced himself to sit, processing all that he had just heard. “I’m sorry.”

  “It's okay. The only way to help him is to understand.”

  “Did Cannon know?” He remembered how he always acted around the boy. But Ellie could hear the real question between the lines.

  “You were so caught up in your planning…”

  He felt the anger start to fill him. But he had to force himself to calm down. It felt like it was too late. Too late for this life. “I don’t know if I can worry about that right now,” he said. “I need to think about you.”

  “Please don’t. I’ll be okay,” She tried to reassure him, but the weakness in her voice told a different story.

  “Ellie, you shouldn’t speak. You need to hold on to your strength, please.”

  But she didn’t listen. “You’re not the only one who feels responsible for people. I thought there was no good in the world… then I found Arthur, and then you. This world could be doomed, but as long as we’re alive, we can make it better. As long as you’re alive, you can change things. So don’t give up.” Her voice faded, and her eyes started to close into sleep.

  “Ellie. Stay with me. Please don’t go. What am I supposed to do?”

  But as that last parting gift, he felt her hand in his. Almost as if it caught his panicking. “Bring me back down.” She had said before. And the room came to a still, not a motion in the house.

  T’balt watched her sleep, mind slowing to a calm. This was something he had seen before, but it was still destroying him. Especially when he had the power to stop it. He knew exactly what he would decide.

  But then the door to the room squeaked open, and Genya peeked inside. “Mr. T’balt…”

  Acelin held his hand no differently than one would hold a gun, holding the power of death at his fingertips.

  Ann stood there, almost accepting it. As if this is what she wanted all along, and the only acceptable reality she saw in that scattered mind.

  Acelin held firm, using his left arm to prop his right and make sure his shot rang true. It was the same thing he did the first time, clearing his head of the fog and letting the electricity take over.

  He remembered being stuck at home playing video games by himself. He skipped school because why not? There was no one to stop him. His dad wasn’t home, working at whatever new job had decided to take him on this time.

  There was no one there to make sure he went to school every day. Sometimes he would go just to get out of the house or to get food for a few days. But a lot of the time, he just stayed in his room. He never felt anyone would miss him at his middle school.

  He loved to spend his time playing Scars Guard in the battle royale mode. 50 players, one life, last one standing wins. He would stare at that screen for hours, operating under the tag “UnNrved.” After a while, the tag became associated with one of the best Scars guard players in the region.

  There were countless victories under his belt, and he had made the perfect strategy to getting to the top 5 of every game. Once there, it would come down to chance, skill, and loot.

  Oftentimes, he would wonder what would happen if the world of video games were real. If he could step inside one and make points out of slaying real monsters. Shoot real enemies. He’d wonder if he’d be as good at it in real life as he was on the controller. But it was always a stupid thought, a product of sitting by himself for too long. “There’s no way something like that would happen.”

  The house looked like a disaster. The kitchen was full of used dishes and piled-up bags of garbage. The whole place smelled like rotting milk and mildew.

  There was a family photo on the mantle by the TV. Acelin, his mom, and his dad. None of them were smiling. The glass of the frame was broken. A bullet hole-shaped crack over his mother’s face.

  A roach inched across the floor by Acelin’s legs, seemingly unafraid of the giant before it. Acelin was going to change that. He spent half an hour playing hide and seek with the thing until he finally slapped it to death with his dad's house shoe. “20 points.” He gloated to himself, proud of his kill. “Maybe the world would be more fun if it were just a game.”

  Then the front door opened and slammed loudly. It wasn’t unusual. It just meant his dad was home early. Acelin’s first instinct was to try to hide. He didn’t want him to know that he’d been skipping class. It would be another reason for his dad to be angry, and if he was home early, it likely meant he was already angry.

  He hid behind the couch, but there was something wrong. His dad was fighting with the door, struggling with something banging on the other side. “Damn it. God dammit,” he heard his father cursing. He was an aged man with a big beard and a beer belly wrapped in a disheveled collared shirt.

  The man put his back to the door. But that was when the demon stuck its hand through. It was a long, discolored limb that was covered in blue sparks of lightning. It tried to grab at his father with no good intention.

  Acelin gasped, falling to the floor. His father noticed him then, but he didn’t have time to react to him. He kicked the door and moved to shove a bookshelf in front of it, cutting off the entrance. The banging continued. He started searching drawers.

  Acelin started panicking when he didn’t find what he was looking for. “Where the hell?” He caught a glimpse of Acelin cowering on the floor. “You little shit! Didn’t I tell you not to play with my gun!?” he yelled.

  Acelin tried to stand, but his dad quickly pushed him back to the ground. “Where is it!? Tell me now!”

  Hesitantly, Acelin pointed at the cushions on the couch. His dad tossed away all the loose trash and tore apart the couch. He found the small pistol buried there. He checked the magazine and quickly started loading it with bullets.

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  Acelin wanted to ask what was going on and what that thing was trying to get in, but he was shaking too much for the words to squeak out. The cracks of loose electric currents stalked around the house. It came from underneath, and then it sounded like it was in the halls, and then the kitchen.

  Then they heard a pained, hideous gnarl from behind the wall. His father started shooting indiscriminately. The shots lit up the room with the deafening muzzle flashes. Five shots. And the gnarling seemed to stop for a moment.

  He started to inch closer as Acelin started to back away.

  Only then did the gnarl turn into a wilderbeast's scream. The wall to the kitchen shattered as if it were made of glass as the beast cannonballed through it.

  It was cloaked in black and white, hands bigger than Acelin's entire body. It wasn’t just a beast. It had strange, fleshy tentacles squirming out of its head. Its teeth were jagged, like each was made of shattered stone, and its eyes glowed with black mist. Its roar was deafening.

  Acelin covered his head as his father fired more bullets into its chest, slowing it down but not killing it. The tentacles turned to whips of lightning, tearing across the house, breaking everything in its path, including their family photo.

  One of the tentacle whips lashed his father in the chest, and he grunted at the pain. Though he still managed to fire three more shots right into the thing's head. Then the beast went down, thudding on the floor.

  It took a few minutes for the lightning to fade. His dad dropped to his knees, clutching at the bloody gash across his chest. He clawed at the stinging as if he could will it away. He cursed at the pain. “Why is this happening to me?”

  Acelin put his attention on the beast. It was dead. A whole huge beast like that broke into his house, and his father killed it. He didn’t know what he was thinking, but when he saw the thing lying there, and the coin burst from its neck, he knew he had to have it. It pulled him towards it, beckoning his touch like it was whispering to him.

  When he rose again, he realized that his wish had come true. The whole world was a video game. He was consumed by lightning, able to control it with the power of his mind and body.

  He felt it surge in him, and all of a sudden, a bolt shot right into the kitchen. It must’ve hit near the breaker box because the power immediately went out.

  “What the hell did you do, you little freak? You gonna destroy my house even more!?” His father shouted, still writhing on the ground. His breathing was heavy. “You’re just like one of those demons, aren’t you. That’s why I’ve always been cursed, huh. Why your mother was taken away from me. Because you’re a spawn of the devil himself.”

  Acelin stared at his hand, wondering why his wishes had been answered in this way. With this, things would be simple again. The world would be a freeing place, and he wouldn’t have to accept anything from anyone else anymore. Not if he didn’t want to. He pointed a finger, one hand holding the other.

  “Wait… What are you doing?... Acelin.”

  He stared down his pointed finger, which was now aimed at Ann Patrick. And time stood still. He was hesitating now. And he didn’t understand why. It was Ann’s face. The placating way she looked at him, full of pity and sorrow. It pissed him off.

  Ann had one question for him. “Why do death and abandonment mean the same thing to you?”

  “Because people who die are gone. There isn’t a difference.”

  “There are some who abandon people when standing right next to them. And there are those long lost from this world that stay with you always.”

  “It doesn’t matter…” he said.

  “You must really care for her.”

  He raised his sight to look her in the eye, suddenly filled with determination. “T’balt’s too scared to do it. So I’ll do it for him.”

  “Then do it quickly. And make sure he survives.”

  “What are you…”

  This situation wasn’t like the first. Ann had closed her eyes, symbolically offering her body to him. He wasn’t prepared for it. It would’ve been easier if she were cowering in fear. Then he would have the power, and he could exert it to his will. But she was not afraid. She was not attacking him. She wasn’t like the others. The power was hers, and she was the one whose life was about to end.

  He had to rethink himself. But it was that very thing, doubting himself, that brought about this situation in the first place. He had to wipe everything about her from his memory. He had to remember his rage. He had to turn her into just another enemy. A 100-point reward.

  Then that rage shot through his fingers, and the crack of thunder sounded. His eyes were closed, and he felt himself becoming numb.

  His hand had fallen limply to his side. The beam of lightning hit nothing but concrete. Ann was still standing, opening her eyes to realize she was not dead.

  Tears welled up in Acelin’s eyes. “I don’t understand why. Why can’t I do it? I’m a demon, right? So why can’t I…”

  Then he felt something grab his hand, clasping his fingers around it, holding it with strength and certainty. It was T’balt. “It's okay, Acelin.”

  “What?”

  T’balt pulled him into his chest, embracing him with that uncomfortable warmth. His brain told him to push away to escape before it was too late. But the rest of him had gone limp, unresponsive to his command. And T’balt squeezed him tight.

  “You’re not alone anymore,” he said.

  T’balt pushed the mask off his head and threw it to the ground. The Nrv mask bounced in a sparking puddle, abandoned. Acelin couldn’t hide his tears then, as much as he tried to turn his head.

  “I’m not a kid,” Acelin said. “Don’t say things like that.”

  “No, you’re not. Not anymore. So much has been put on you. I’m sorry I’ve been so rough on you today.”

  Acelin’s anger flared. “What is with you!? You’ve been ignoring me until today. Then you call me a… a monster, and now you’re suddenly Mr. nice guy again? Give me a break.”

  T’balt sighed. “We made a promise.”

  “I don’t remember making any promises.”

  T’balt pulled his special notebook out of his back pocket and flipped through the pages. And when he finally came to what he was looking for, he presented the book to Acelin.

  He was almost scared to receive it. It was like touching a religious artifact. The Redeemer’s notebook. It held the secrets of his knowledge and everything he knew. He was so protective of it, never letting anyone besides himself really read it.

  The page was titled “Acelin.” It was coupled with a small drawing of himself and the words “speed elemental.” There were a bunch of other scribbles around. Not all of it he could make sense of. “Nrv.” “forcefield” “Robot mask”

  He looked at the mask thrown on the ground. Then he read some more. Something was written about the hotel from before. And then something about gifting him a baseball bat. His likes and interests. Things he’d never told T’balt in this life. It made him question how much he knew about him. Then he felt ashamed. If he knew this much, then…

  But even further below, it said, “Never abandon him. You promised.”

  He didn’t know what to make of it. But reading it made his heart freeze. He closed the book and handed it back. “So what.. It's just words on a page. You don’t really know anything about me.”

  T’balt stood in front of him, analyzing his expression, and then he sighed. “Then I suppose I’ll just have to show you.” He walked up to Ann.

  “Have you decided then?” she said.

  “I have,” he said. “We should get back.”

  “Okay.”

  They walked back to the house in silence, Acelin unable to gather what was happening. He was ready to kill her. But no one acted like anything just happened. In fact, Ann still had the nerve to smile at him when their eyesight crossed. He couldn’t understand any of it. “This is so stupid,” he thought.

  They walked into the house to see Ellie’s lifeless body in the bed. She had stopped breathing, her eyes closed peacefully. But the death must’ve been anything but. Burns and trauma. It must’ve been agonizing for her all the way up until her last breath.

  It was too late.