Chapter 11: Even Scarier in Person

Of course, that bastard Springtail had to report Mirka, and by extension, myself. We're stuck waiting in my apartment, nervous silence having wedged its way between us. MBR was at minimum kind enough to send someone here, instead of Mirka going to the building alone. I love her, truly, but I'm not suicidal enough to willingly step foot on MBR's soil without a damn good reason.

A knock at the door shatters the silence, releasing the anxiety it held like a toxic gas. Mirka speeds over to the door, but hesitates as she opens it. She stands aside to let in not just an advisor, but an entire team of people. The first one inside is a Counter-Magic combat specialist who can no doubt obliterate me in seconds, identified easily by the "C-M" on his hard plastic chest armor.

Next, an MBR researcher in a lab coat despite the summer heat, though the slightly wet underarms betray his condition.

Following him, an MBR official of some kind whose eyes never leave mine from the second she sees me. I take her to be important somehow, in a grander scale than just this meeting. An administer of some kind?

Rounding out the group is Springtail, looking almost guilty as he stands in front of me. I hope he does feel guilty, honestly. I'm getting sick of people reporting me. I saved the little bastard's life, and he spits in my face.

There's not enough seating in the small room for all six of us, but the Counter-Magic soldier wasn't planning to sit anyway, and Springtail doesn't seem bothered by keeping a couch and two people between himself and I. It doesn't help with my fear, though, considering the scariest ones are always the least well armed.

The official can best be described as "shiny." Shiny silver buttons on her uncannily clean suit, shiny eyes that always look a little too wet, a shiny briefcase on her lap.

"I'm MBR Director Raines." She delivers the introduction like a command, and it's admittedly effective in making me believe I'm under her authority. "I oversee MBR activities in Michigan, and reading Springtail's report, I have a lot to take in. Let's start with our newest hunter. Meerkat, care to explain?" It's an entirely perfunctory question. It may be my own conceit, but I don't believe for a second that Mirka is the subject of this meeting. Everyone is looking at me, even if their eyes are fixed on Mirka.

"Yes, ma'am. Lena is my friend, and came with me in case the target wanted to talk to another magical beast."

Raines flicks her eyes onto me. "How about you, magical beast? Why did you go with Meerkat?"

I try to speak, and find myself in an unusual state, one I haven't been in before. I'm completely frozen in fear. My shell simply refuses to cooperate. It's all I can do to stop from pissing my pants.

"Hello? Anyone in there?" She gets up and reaches across the coffee table, lightly knocking on my head. Incredibly disrespectful and a gross invasion of personal space, but it does help to snap me out of the trance I was in.

I squeeze out what words I can, but it's impossible to make eye contact. "Yes. I... was with Meerkat."

"I know. Why?"

"For fun. And to protect her. Not that she needs me. I just... I could help. I did help. I'm..." My mouth freezes over again. I've exhausted all the words I could say.

She sits back down on the couch and clicks open the briefcase, and withdraws a piece laminated paper from within. She holds it in front of her, occasionally leering at me over the top of it. "Says here you have a wide skillset. Some kind of unique shapeshifting, item replication, a pocket dimension you use for storage. Oh, and we can't hurt you by damaging your human form."

I nod in place of words.

Mirka takes over for me, scooting over close to me and resting a hand on my knee. "That's all correct, Director. Please excuse her, she's scared of MBR. Especially the higher-ups."

Raines leans in. "I see. Any experience with them in the past?"

I stay silent, trying to relax my shell's muscles. They keep tensing irregularly, despite my efforts to steady them.

"Your fear is justified, you know. We can destroy you, lock you away, anything we want. Now, for someone so scared of MBR, you went out of your way to force yourself into our affairs. Want to explain that?"

It's the same question again, just reworded. Is she trying to catch me in a lie? I take Mirka's hand in my own, squeezing lightly.

The director watches our hands for a solid fifteen seconds, her frown growing deeper the entire time. "Good lord, another one? We're turning into Seattle... Okay, three options. First, fire Meerkat for bringing along a magical beast, and we contain Lena for fucking around with MBR. The second option is Meerkat continues, and the magical beast stays on site at our building, but not in containment, free to roam most of the facility in exchange for occasionally producing duplicates of whatever we need. Pretty cushy, all things considered." She nods her head a few times, tacitly recommending the course of action.

I'm not going to let myself be in that situation again. Even if its an upgrade, I think I'd start killing people by the end of the month.

"Third? You both ditch. We have no desire to chase you, but we don't want you doing shit like this while having any connection to us. Hunters get a lot of leeway, but this is absurd."

I can't do that, either. I've built a life here, for as short a time as it feels. I'm not ready to leave yet. I don't want to give up on my friends at the coffee shop, on Shirai and Melo, on anyone. I like it here, I realize.

What was that other thing she said? Hunters get a lot of leeway..? No. That's a terrible idea. Don't do that. Obviously don't do that. I'm insane for even considering that as a possibility.

"I... have another idea." I bite my tongue hard, trying to keep my shell from saying what I have in mind, but the words seem to come out on their own. I consider shutting off my pseudo-brain entirely to keep myself from talking. The dead don't have much to say.

Raines rolls her eyes. "This isn't-"

"Are you hiring?" God damn it. Why did I say that? It's not too late to run, right?

She carefully inspects the case report for a few minutes, looking over every word. "Springtail, it says here she succeeded in talking down a gemstone elemental, who surrendered peacefully and is going through our rehab program."

"Technically, yes," Springtail replies, but doesn't look at me. He has the same look of shame Mirka did the day she reported me. I hope it stays with him. My fear is slowly being tempered by my anger the longer I look at him.

Raines stands up. "So a magical beast is not only willing to help, despite the obvious risk to itself, but is actually capableof helping. Lena, are you actually willing to slay another magical beast, if it came down to it?"

"I... I don't plan on killing anyone. But... yeah. Yes. I am."

She lets out a long sigh and makes for the door, followed by her entire entourage. "Good enough for me. Meerkat, bring her over to HQ by the end of the day for processing."

There's a slow train of people leaving the apartment, Springtail's dark look the last thing I see as the door closes. They leave us once again alone in the room.

Mirka turns to me with unique determination. "Lena. If we're going to run, we should do it now."

Her eyes move to the couch in my apartment that she's more or less claimed as her own. She doesn't want to leave, either, and I wouldn't dare pull her away.

"Well... what's the worst that could happen?" I say, voice unsteady and laden with irony and trepidation.

Usually, people only recognize mistakes in hindsight. I have the unique privilege of making a terrible decision in foresight.

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"You know, the building is even scarier in person."

I stand just outside an intimidating, circular building made of gray metal and glass-like crystal windows, capped by a bronze metal ring and a clear crystal dome on tope. The map suggests the center of the circle is actually a garden of some kind, though I can't tell from the description if it means garden for relaxation, or garden for man-eating plants.

Either way, the iron-filled engraving over the doorway reading "MAGICAL BEAST RESEARCH HEADQUARTERS,1 MICHIGAN BRANCH" is the most threatening thing I've ever seen.

Mirka squeezes my arm. "It's not too late to ditch. We can take some time and rethink it, or just run."

With a few quick breaths to hype myself up, I nod once to Mirka, who takes the lead as we walk to the front entrance. Immediately, two guards covered from head to toe in dark body armor tilt their helmets to me. "Identification," one demands. I can see both the guards are fixated on me.

With reluctance, I offer my driver's license, which the first guard takes with a surprisingly gentleness. He takes a brief look, and shows it to the other guard, before pointing the visor of his helmet at me. "You're a sorcerer?"

Right, his visor is probably enchanted to see magic. "Yes- Wait, no. I'm not, I'm a non-human." I can feel my heart rate start to increase, and I can't seem to slow it down despite my best efforts. Something must be wrong with my shell.

The guard briefly pauses. "Shapeshifter?"

I nod silently.

"Class?"

"...uhh, I think someone said D and B? I don't really fit-"

"Wear this." He withdraws a visitor's badge attached to a red and gray lanyard from a zippered pocket on his chest, and quickly scribbles on it with a permanent market before thrusting it into my shaking hands. I look at it for a moment. The front says "SHAPESHIFTER" in bold black letters, with "VISITOR" beneath in slightly smaller lettering. Below that, in his handwriting, reads "B+C+D." That's more than a little ominous, having my entire being distilled into a mostly correct description. The back is covered in half a dozen glowing sigils, which I show to Mirka.

She looks them over, eyes hard. "Ground, Affix, Beacon, Constant, and I don't even recognize the other two. The ones I know basically say you can't fly, you can't take off the ID, you can't hide any magical energy you radiate, and you can't change your form."

I nod, and hesitantly slip the lanyard over my head. I don't feel any different, but I didn't feel very good to begin with. Out of curiosity, I try to take the lanyard off. I can't seem to convince my shell to do it, like the muscles themselves won't cooperate. Concerning, but I could always retract my shell, of course, but I have no reason to tell him that. Especially not as he waves Mirka and myself into the belly of the beast.

The lobby is... not what I expected it to be. I've always envisioned the MBR building as heavily stratified, everything non-human kept below in cramped cages, all the humans aboveground in offices and cubicles. It more closely resembles an airport than anything, with a central intake area and maps in multiple languages, including one that's made of solid stone and another that seems completely blank to me. Strange, abstract art hangs from the ceiling and walls, adding to an air of carefully aligned chaos. Of course, its still mostly humans meandering around, but there's more than just me here as far as non-humans are concerned. I try not to stare at anyone or anything, and keep my head down as Mirka directs me to the "Retrievals" section. I feel myself being watched by everyone here, even though they're not looking at me.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

My heart still hasn't slowed, and I feel it starting to take its toll on my shell. I'm sweating despite feeling cool. My muscles are trembling slightly, my pseudo-brain instinctively wanting to turn and run. Deeply unpleasant.

Mirka takes me down to a small corridor towards the interior of the circle, and knocks on the wood-paneled door of an office labelled with "Retrievals Handler #1582."

A calming voice says to come in, letting Mirka half-drag me into the small, windowless office. The man at the desk is objectively handsome, with smooth dark skin and a painfully strong jawline, coupled with eyes so dark I can barely see where the pupil starts. If I weren't about to have a heart attack, I'd probably ask him politely for some DNA.

"Hey, Terrance." Mirka shakes his hand, and takes a seat. I stand uncomfortably next to her, shifting my weight. The room is far too small for three people. It's too small for one. There are no windows, just a humming yellow light above.

"Meerkat," Terrance says, "Good to see you. Raines mentioned you had a special guest." His voice is relaxed. Too relaxed. Like he has nothing to fear. Am I trapped? Could I leave if I wanted to at this point?

Mirka takes one look at my darting, unsteady eyes, and gets up from the chair to stand by my side. "This is Lena, my potential partner. She makes things, including bodies to use."

"I got the dossier... why do you look like you're about to puke, Lena?"

"I'm fine."

Terrance leans back on his chair, a metallic squeal punctuating it. "That wasn't my question." He only sends fleeting glances to me while his attention is consumed by the sheet of paper in his hands.

Mirka sighs. "She's got a phobia of MBR."

He returns to proper posture and writes something down on a blank notepad. "Phobia means irrational. If I were a non-human, I'd say that is the most rational fear in the world." He looks back up at me, attempting a compassionate smile. "Lena, you're safe here. You won't believe me right away, but I mean it. At least in this office, and when you're with Meerkat. You're far from the only magical beast working with MBR. I'll walk you through..."

His voice is starting to fade. Something's deeply wrong, like my shell is suddenly sinking into the floor. I need to see the sky; it worked last time. I turn around to the door, trying to turn the knob, but it won't open.

My heart is going too fast. Every drop of adrenaline I have in my shell was pumped throughout my body the instant the door refused to open. Easy, this isn't a problem. I can just retract my shell, balance out the hormone levels, and send it back. I try to retract my shell, but I can't. It refuses to, caught in place like a stuck drawer.

I've never been trapped in a shell before. It's a previously unknown claustrophobia.

I've also never had a panic attack before, but it seems there's a first time for everything.

I try to extend a pair of earbuds from my void, if only to block out noise. I can't. It's like my core is coated in a hard plastic I can't break through. If I had a vomit reflex, I'm certain it would have happened by now.

My best solution would be to sever the connection I have to my shell entirely, but there's no telling if I'd be able to absorb the dead material while the lanyard is still on. It's still tempting.

I feel myself being shaken roughly, and see Mirka doing so, her handler making a phone call of some kind.

"Lena!" Mirka shouts in my face, bringing me back in touch with reality for a moment, if only faintly.

"Hey. Lanyard. Please." I barely register it as my own voice.

Mirka takes it off for me, much to her handler's disapproval. I immediately retract my shell into myself.

No sight, no sound, no adrenaline, nothing but my mind. It still races, but I'm okay, I think. I start clearing my shell of excess hormones, reverting it to its default state. Its calming, in a way, like I'm physically wiping away the stress. Mirka patiently holds me in her hands, until she taps me twice a few minutes later. I take the hint, and float back slightly to extend my shell again.

Mirka immediately hugs my shell, to which I gently return it.

Terrance doesn't look amused, but he doesn't look angry, either. "You can keep the lanyard off. I got permission from security, as long as Meerkat accompanies you. Also, you were turning the door handle the wrong way. You're not locked in here."

"Sorry. For the trouble, I mean. I... was never trapped like that before. I wasn't ready for it." The hollow space previously filled by panic is now occupied by embarrassment, as I check the time on my phone. I must have been in my core for half an hour, at least...

The handler eyes me with skepticism. "I'm not sure you're ready for fieldwork, if this is your reaction to a fairly minor setback."

"It wasn't minor." I don't want to quibble over the details, but this is an important correction.

"And what if you're in the field, and whatever you're tracking manages to do the same?"

This is a test, I realize, whether it is intended to be one or not. "...I'd probably just beat the shit out of them, but only if Meerkat can't handle it either."

Seems my foresight is 20/20.

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Somehow, by the grace of a cruel god, I leave the building four hours later with a provisional MBR hunting license registered to Lena Sendurmir. I look at it in disbelief, nearly tripping over someone on our way out. The people who took the photo had a short argument about how to handle me, since I didn't have a "default" form beyond a mostly featureless, two inch ball that seemingly doesn't reflect light and wouldn't show up well on camera. The photo they decided on is of my Lena shell, though the license has a whole paragraph of notes on the back about me being a shapeshifter.

I didn't have a second panic attack, mostly because the rest of the interview and testing was done in the very normal central garden, and thankfully without the lanyard. They were actually very accommodating of me, once they learned I had an obvious weakness.

It's really funny to me that a simple visitor's pass on a string is orders of magnitude more threatening to me than the automatic rifle they used to shoot me a dozen times to see if I was bullshitting about my shell repair speed. Mirka, however, didn't see the humor.

There were a few other boring tests like grip strength, speed of constructing a new object, that kind of thing. Hardly noteworthy, really, and very professional. Almost like an annual checkup. Seeing how the various staff treated me also calmed me down significantly. They were generally... normal, despite everything around me being not. Some made jokes. Some looked bored. Some looked scared. Some were assholes. Very few looked at me with actual malice.

They were only people, after all. The truth is softer than my own worst dreams. I'm still terrified of the organization as a whole, but maybe I don't need to panic from the sight of a badge anymore. At least, not immediately.

Mirka takes me back to the car, buzzing about my license, but she relents a bit after seeing my muted reaction. I don't sleep, but I can be mentally tired, and I am tired. I need energy, and I need time. I've never felt this exhausted before, now that I think about it.

It makes sense. A panic attack is pretty significantly draining, as it turns out. I'm looking forward to a long time of doing nothing. As it turns out, Mirka had the same idea.

The only thing of interest I did on the drive back was write a few notes in my journal.

#57: I can have panic attacks, though they may be tied to having a shell. Maybe.

#58: I hate being trapped inside a shell, even if I was going to be in it anyway. It's as though I were trapped inside a car on a hot day.

#59: I don't actually fear MBR employees, only hunters and their bosses.

It was already getting late, so after a mostly quiet meal, Mirka slinks off to bed. To her surprise, I join her under the soft sheets.

"You okay, Lena? You look... well, tired." She brushes a few hairs from my face.

"I am."

"I thought you didn't sleep."

"I don't, but I'm still exhausted. Most nights, I spend them doing something relaxing or simple, just give my brain some downtime. I think I'm just going to lay down in this bed next to you tonight, give myself some time to relax. If you don't mind, of course. I know I said you could have the bed to yourself, but tonight... I can take the couch, if you'd prefer."

Her smile in the dim light is all the answer I needed. I gently pull her close to me, and shut my shell's eyes, smiling softly as I let my mind wander. I'll start producing something once I feel better, but for now, my void is as still as the night sky.

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I stayed in bed all night, and didn't get a damn thing done. It was honestly the best night I've had in a very long time.

I know Mirka gets up around 7. It's close to 6, plenty of time for what I have in mind...

I order her breakfast on a delivery app, a bit of everything. I don't know the first thing about food in general, but I know what she likes to eat. Next step, laundry. She mentioned she hates doing laundry, and I don't even know how the machine works. I start decomposing a couple tops from her laundry pile, and create them again like the day they were manufactured. By the time they're both ready, I pick up her food at the apartment door, and get it set up on the kitchen table. What else, what else...

Shoot, I hear her waking up. Must have been the door. Oh well. This will have to do. I casually lay out the clothes I managed to clean. It would have been faster to just do the washing machine, in retrospect, if only I knew what settings to use...

Mirka stumbles out of bed, eyes barely open, but letting the smell guide her. She picks a small piece of eye gunk from near her nose, and blinks a few time. "Oh."

"I don't know what you like. I probably should have been paying attention to that," I lie. I do know, but I don't want her to think I'm being creepy.

"...huh. This is... wow."

"Anything you don't eat, I can just decompose, don't worry about that... wait, is there anything here you like?

"Yeah... I just... I didn't expect this, is all. Thank you. A lot." She sits down, still wiping sleep from her eyes, and starts looking through the various foam containers.

This was a less than ecstatic reaction. Did I mess something up? Damn it. I sit down at the table, smiling nervously. "Hey... sorry if this awkward. I didn't-"

"What? No, I'm just tired," she says, filling a plate. She does look tired, but is that really it?

I'm torn between believing her and pressing her. "Oh. Okay."

She starts eating, at least. That's good, right?

I think I was staring at her a bit too intently, because she stops chewing and looks straight back at me. She swallows, and blankly blinks a few times. "Lena, are you okay?"

"Me?"

"You're the only Lena here... Look, you had a hard day yesterday. I tried to give you some space, but I don't think it helped. I don't know why you went and got me breakfast, either. Is something going on that I'm not in the loop on?"

Oh. She's quiet because she's worried about me. That's unexpected. "No, not at all. Did I overstep your boundaries last night?"

"No... it was just a bit worrying. You've never done that before, and it was after a day of being mostly quiet."

I take a long, slow breath. "Yesterday sucked, sure, but I'm over it now that I had a good night's rest. I get over things fast. If anything, I think it helped, in a way. I learned a lot."

She nods. "And the food?"

"I just wanted to do something nice for you. I put you in a really rough spot yesterday, and even though we're a team, I wanted you to know I care about you. I guess. Don't read into it, okay?"

"Okay." She goes back to slowly eating. To keep her from studying my shell's expression, I look at my new license. There's a strange crescent moon symbol next to the word "Rating" that I don't remember being told about. A perfect way to change the subject.

"What does a moon symbol mean on this?" I show it to Mirka, who sighs through the remaining half of a blueberry muffin.

"It means you don't get paid because you're a non-human."

"The hell?"

"Yeah. There's a push to change it, but there's not much traction. You share the rank with every magical beast, even non-sapient critters like squonks."

"And what the hell is a squonk?"

"Little ugly pig thing that cries a lot. About as smart as a particularly dumb goat."

That's a little insulting. "So what? I work for free?"

"If you don't play the game. I just need to send in an expense report every month for 'required expenses' for whatever you need. For you, that means... pretty much anything. Just lie and say you needed to break it down for some reason." She takes a long stretch. "I might go back to bed... You coming?"

"Ehh... Kapil needs his delivery, and frankly my void is getting pretty crowded. Might have to do some cleaning."

She starts consolidating the leftovers into as few containers as possible. "Cleaning? Now I know something's wrong. Take it easy today, okay?"

"I will. I promise."

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It feels like I've been away from the soup kitchen for ages, but it's really only been a few days. I smile politely at a few of the regulars I know as I move to the kitchen. Kapil is currently arguing with his son Abhay about something, though they both go silent as soon as I walk in.

I look between the two, as they pretend to have not been talking. "Did I pick a bad time?"

"No," Abhay says, before turning away and leaving through the back door.

Kapil watches his son leave, before eventually sighing in frustration. "How old are you, Lena?" he asks, clearly angling towards something.

"Uhh... I dunno. Probably 25 or 30ish?"

"Then you're closer to my son in age than I am. Maybe you can help?"

I start unloading the frankly absurd amount of medications I'm producing onto the table. "Yeah, because if there's one thing we know about Lena Sendurmir, it's that she's great with people. Especially kids."

"I said maybe... honestly, I'm at the end of my rope here. I don't even know where to start with that child. He insists on doing stupid things."

"How old is he?"

"Twenty."

"Are the stupid things dangerous?"

"Somewhat. Mostly, they're wastes of time." His eyes meets mine, gauging my answer with focus.

"Sorry. I'm not really fit to answer this kind of thing. All I can think to say is to let the kid do dumb things until he learns. That's how I learned things. Then again, I've been shot probably... eight times. Oh, if you count yesterday, at least twenty."

He laughs at hearing that, finally having gotten over the weirdness that inherently comes with talking to me. It's comforting that he can find humor in the absurdity. "What the hell happened yesterday?"

I take out my MBR license and display it in my hand, which he looks at with obvious concern. "You know what I'm going to say. I'll spare you actually hearing it," Kapil says.

"Thanks for that." I put the license into my pocket, letting it sink into my void. "Long story short, it was this or fleeing the city."

He drags over a folding chair to sit in, smiling placidly in place of his previous tension. "You stayed?"

"Yeah. Against my better judgement. I've gotten pretty attached to the people I've met."

"Your sociopathic facade slips further every day, Lena."

"It's not a facade! I mean, goddamn, how is it weird that I want to retain my possessions? I'm talking about friends, of course. They all belong to me, and I'm not the type to give away what is rightfully mine."

His eyes bounce off the insulin cartridges and back onto me. He is such a bastard...

"God damn it, can't you just let me embrace my non-humanity?"

"I never said you were human, only that there are other things you can be besides 'sociopathic'. You don't have to define yourself based on being human or not, Lena. Define yourself based on yourself."

I lean back in my chair, looking to the ceiling. "Your son is lucky to have someone who can give great advice."

"If only his problems were as simple and obvious as your's."

We share a quiet laugh, enjoying the brief respite before the breakfast rush. Define myself based on myself... I like that idea.