Neither Clang, Marbelle, or Snap knew what to say in the wake of my declaration.

  I lifted my gaze, and met Snap's eyes, then Marbelle's, and then Clang's, and I felt the internal friction within myself to put on a brave face despite the anguish gripping me.

  This same internal friction, like a wet towel being tightly wrung, forced freshly warm tears out of me.

  The others waited, and again I felt Snap's gentle hand rested on my shoulder. Rather than bring me comfort, for some reason I wanted to recoil from her touch – but this need, whether it was from a sense of guilt from looking so pathetic in front of the others, or simply because I felt utterly overstimulated and in need of being alone – was something I forced myself to ignore.

  When I finally managed to stop the tears from flowing, I raised my head to see the others concerned, and patiently waiting for me to explain what I had meant.

  "I could be wrong," I said, "But I think that Mousetrap device has the physical tissue belonging to a person with the power. Or, if not that, then it's some kind of synthetic Mouse-tissue."

  I knew, also, that I had to be careful about how I said things, because Marbelle, as far as I could tell, wasn't aware of any of our true identities.

  "We know that the Pied Piper's Return Act, and the MICE act, has been all about making sure any known MICE are taken into custody by the government," I said, "And, we have also learned about how Chellam, the real controllers behind everything, have abducted and experimented on MICE."

  "They have?" said Marbelle, seemingly in shock at hearing this.

  Marbelle looked from Snap and then to Clang, both of whom gave slow affirmative nods that what I was saying was true.

  I waited to see if Marbelle would press on this issue in order to understand how we knew MICE were being abducted and experimented on. Instead, she remained silent, ready to listen.

  I took a deep breath in through my nose, and then slowly exhaled.

  "This device wasn't made by Sweet-Face or his men," I said, "Of course I can't prove that right now, but my Intuition's telling me he was given the Mousetrap."

  "I'm sorry," said Marbelle, "But you're 'Intuition'? I'm not following."

  "It's his–" Snap began to say, before I cut her off.

  "--I can explain it," I said.

  Snap flinched, and withdrew her hand from my shoulder. And then her anime-style eyes widened and were replaced by the toonishly large orb-eyes of Miss Toontastic. The frown that had started to form on Snap's face became a smile.

  "Oopsie," Miss Toontastic squeaked, "Snap's jus' taking a break."

  "Hey Miss Toontastic," said Clang.

  "Hey Clangy," Miss Toontastic squeaked back, twiddling her clawed fingers in his direction.

  Miss Toontastic cocked her head to one side and fixed her attention on Marbelle.

  And then she squeaked, "Hi! I'm Miss Toontastic, I have'ta say I love your outfit!"

  "Thank you, darling," said Marbelle, "I made it myself."

  "Ooo, really?" Miss Toontastic squeaked, "I want to make this super special sash to go with this super nice dress I have in mind, but it's so hard findin' the time, ya know?"

  "Hey," said Clang, gruffly, "I want to hear what Slip has to say."

  "Oopsie, again!" Miss Toontastic squeaked, "I'm all ears!"

  And, as if to prove her point, Miss Toontastic's raccoonish ears, which were mostly hidden by her hair, flicked upwards.

  "Your Intuition," said Clang, trying to get us back on track.

  "It's an ability I have," I said, fixing my attention on Marbelle since she was the one who wasn't already aware of my seemingly unique ability, "It lets me process a lot of information and it just kind of pieces it all together. I'm still getting used to how it works, but it hasn't been wrong yet."

  "I think I understand," said Marbelle.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  She brought her right knee closer to her chest and wrapped her white-marble arms around the same leg.

  "The Mousetrap," said Clang, urging me to continue.

  "It's just common sense when you really think about it," I said, "Chellam wants to create weapons out of MICE, but the problem with MICE is that we have free will – they're going to have a hard time controlling any of us – especially as we get more powerful."

  "Do you know about Chellam?" said Clang.

  He was asking Marbelle this.

  Marbelle considered the question, and then, softly, she said, "Yes, I know a lot about Chellam, actually."

  She saw the startled looks on our faces, and then said, "But please, I'll explain how I know about Chellam after. Please, I want to hear what you have to say about these Mousetraps."

  I nodded, and continued, "Okay," I said, "Well, let's put it this way. When do people that make weapons ever stop at just a small scale version of it? My guess – no, not just a guess, my Intuition, is telling me that Chellam will want to create a large scale Mousetrap-device. Like a bomb, or something."

  I noticed then that neither Clang, Marbelle, or Snap asked why Chellam would want to do this.

  There's no need, I thought, we've all learned well enough that psychopaths exist in the world, and those that aren't psychopaths will go-along with the evil either out of cowardice or apathy anyway.

  "I think it's why they've made Stowchester a lawless zone," I said, "Because what would it matter to them to police Stowchester if they knew they were going to destroy it eventually anyway?"

  "But why does Sweet-Face have a Mousetrap?" Miss Toontastic squeaked, putting a clawed finger to her bottom lip in thought.

  "Because," I said, "Chellam wants to field-test their new weapon. What better way than to put the Mousetrap in the hands of criminals?"

  "I must say, this toy looks expensive," said Marbelle, holding up the Mousetrap device again, "I shouldn't think the likes of a local criminal warlord would be able to afford a prototype weapon such as this."

  A sudden metallic clanking noise came from Clang as he popped a crick in his neck.

  "Okay," he said, "What's our next move, then?"

  This was the question I didn't want to be asked. The idea of being a hero sounded great, because it felt on some level like I was giving purpose to all the pain and suffering and death that had already taken place since the evacuation. But all of the turmoil we had been through fighting Sweet-Face had been our choice to get involved in, and only because he and his men happened to cross our path on our way to my childhood home.

  I don't have the time to get involved trying to save Stowchester, I thought, I just want to see my Mum, and Dad, and brother and sister again. I'm so sick of this.

  Couldn't this all be somebody else's problem? I thought, haven't I been through enough already?

  "Slip?" said Clang.

  I had fallen into silence, feeling at a total loss for words. A huge part of me didn't want to start the process of deciding what to do. In a way, it felt as if I didn't have a choice in the matter.

  But then, did I have a choice to decide whether I would refuse to save those Pied Piper bastards and in not saving them, let them either drown or be torn limb-from-limb by the Adam-George-Amalgamation down in the Wedder Gorge facility's underground complex?

  Yes, I admitted to myself, I did have a choice.

  Do I regret saving those men? I thought, then. And the reason this seemed to be a pertinent question to ask of myself was because I needed to decide whether I had been approaching the ever-constant and ever-growing problems the right way.

  Did I regret saving those Piper bastards? I asked myself again.

  No, I thought, of course not. Because saving them was the right thing to do.

  "Slip?" said Clang again.

  "Wait, please," I said, softly, "I need to think."

  Why? I thought, concentrating hard on that question.

  Why was it important that I save those Pied Piper bastards? Those teenager-killers? Those men who wouldn't have spared me?

  Because, another part of me answered, and the thought was crisp and clean like cool water quenching a parched throat, you saved those men because you believe there is something intrinsically precious about people, no matter what bad things they have done.

  I could tell however that this belief of mine was like a lump of coal yet to be made into a diamond.

  Pressure makes diamonds, I thought, remembering back to that motivational poster I had seen back at the abandoned textile factory that had gone up in flames during the Pied Piper Task Force's ambush.

  I realised I was afraid. And the reason I was afraid was because this time, unlike back when I had made the decision to save those Pied Piper officers, or the numerous other choices I had made – like refusing Robert Hoffman's PUNCH program invitation – this time, I knew all too well that every altruistic choice meant further pain and suffering for me.

  I wondered, then, if Clang, Snap, and Marbelle would try and stop Chellam's plan to destroy Stowchester if I wasn't leading the way. Or would they become aimless, and disband? Or was I simply following them, following me?

  The answer to my questions came in the form of three simple words.

  The Archetype Project.

  Thinking of The Archetype Project was like looking up to the next rung on a ladder. All I had to do was reach for it, and I would find the purchase I was looking for.

  But there had to be an alternative. In life there was always more than one path that could be taken, no matter how inevitable things seemed. I always had a choice.

  I hadn't spoken for what seemed like several minutes by this point. And, thankfully, Clang, Marbelle, and Snap had given me the silence and room I needed to gather my thoughts.

  And it was with a heavy heart that I realised I wasn't brave like I had been. That inner fire, which I must have taken for granted, simply wasn't burning like it had before.

  And it was then I remembered being back at the Wedder Gorge facility yet again. And the memory of climbing down that insanely long and cold and wet ladder in the dark, with Sophie and Walter climbing down with me, came to mind.

  We had sung the impromptu 'climbing down the ladder' song together, hadn't we?

  And then a startling thought occurred to me.

  I'm even more afraid now than I was then…and I don't know if I can do this anymore.