I hear something.

  Not clearly. It feels distant, like a voice trying to reach me through water.

  “Wak…”

  Where am I?

  “WAKE UP.”

  The word crashes into me. A high ringing tears through my ears as I force my eyes open. Light floods in immediately, too bright, too sudden. My vision fractures into white and motion and I turn my head instinctively.

  The ringing swells until it fills my skull. I try to lift myself, but my body doesn’t respond the way it should. It is heavy. Delayed. As if the connection between thought and muscle has been stretched thin.

  Then I find my rationale.

  Maya.

  She did something, didn’t she?

  My vision slowly sharpens. Shapes stop bleeding into each other. I see her above me, looking down with care. Her lips move again, forming words I still can’t quite hear.

  I stop for a moment.

  Then I reach inward.

  I realize power. It moves through me the way it always does, steady and obedient. I let it wash through my head first.

  The ringing fades. Pain dulls.

  Disorientation loosens its grip.

  Clarity returns all at once, clean and sharp.

  Maya notices the shift.

  “Good boy.”

  My head is resting on her lap.

  “Hey,” I reply, as if nothing unusual has happened.

  “Where are we?”

  The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  She studies me for a second before speaking. “Don’t remove the effects of the drug. Not if you want to have fun.”

  There’s no command in her tone. Just suggestion.

  She knows of my power.

  I could keep the clarity. The control. I can choose to remove the chemical from my system. Some of it has vanished as a result of my power, I let the rest remain.

  The change is immediate. The world softens again, but this time I’m prepared for it. The sharpness melts into warmth, into a heavy kind of ease that settles deep in my chest. My thoughts slow slightly, not enough to lose them, just enough to dull the edges.

  Pain doesn’t return.

  Euphoria replaces it.

  I shift, trying to sit up. As I move, something tugs at my hair. I glance upward and realize it’s caught in her fishnet stockings.

  She laughs, low and entertained. I do not.

  I grab the edge of her crop top to steady myself and pull upward. She doesn’t flinch. She watches, amused, as I drag myself higher.

  I nearly make it before the floor seems to tilt. My legs give out and I drop back down, the hallway spinning just enough to remind me I’m not fully stable.

  I look up at her. She understands that look.

  She sighs faintly, adjusts her skirt, and finally offers me her shoulder.

  “Focus, Loki.”

  Not using my name ? I see.

  “I am,” I say. “The disorientation doesn’t help.”

  “It’ll fade in a minute. The high won’t.”

  I grin.

  “Thank God.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  She guides me forward.

  The hallway is narrow, grey concrete on both sides, lit by thin strips of recessed lighting that leave most of the space in shadow. The air feels controlled, insulated from the world above.

  We take a few turns. With each step, my balance improves. The warmth remains, humming quietly under my skin.

  " No questions ? "

  " You could have killed me if you wanted to, some reason in keeping me alive ? "

  " All the reason. "

  " It is fascinating. Never thought of you to be hers. "

  She does not answer. No reaction.

  Her entirety has changed. No humor in her left, only something raw.

  We continue walking.

  Halfway through, she hands me a mask.

  An oni mask.

  It feels cool at first, then adjusts, tightening subtly against my face as if it recognizes me.

  The mask shifts uncontrollably. Red lines run across the black mask chaotically. There is no sense or direction to them.

  Does it change depending on the person wearing it ? It feels like my own skin .

  As the mask finally covers me, I twitch.

  I feel light headed.

  My pupils dilate.

  Only then do I notice my state.

  A three-piece black suit. Sleek and sharp.

  It's comfortable, so much so that I did not notice before. The material is foreign to me.

  Maya has changed too.

  Black crop top. Short skirt. Fishnet stockings. Gloves. Clean lines, sharp silhouette.

  Her mask is different from mine. Smooth. Black. Featureless.

  Empty.

  I become increasingly fidgety.

  Control feels thin.

  Soon.

  Maya catches on. She smiles, there is sinister in there. Something familiar.

  " Don't worry, you'll have your bone. "

  I just nod at her words. Too agitated to reply.

  My senses become more vivid. I can feel the ground, hear the air, taste the smell.

  The sound of our footsteps become progressively louder.

  Maya comes closer to me. Her scent makes my mind go haywire.

  We are converging.

  I am converging.