The car comes to a stop as I gently step down on the brake pedal. I sigh in consternation as my passenger prepares to depart. What a disaster this whole outing had been. 

"So you found out nothing." Don interrogates, an accusation buried in the statement. 

"These things take time." I explain, "Madam has promised that she would keep her ear down for the information we need about the Kuats."

"Mmm." Don hums as he unbuckles the seat belt, "And you can trust Madam?"

"Look Don, you need to start integrating more with this world." I begin the age old lecture that I have been giving him over these years, "Acting through the locals is a far better way of doing things then what you are used to."

A derisive snort is all I receive from Don. He didn't say he disagreed with me, but its clear enough. 

"Why are you so concerned about them, Jas?" Don asks, honest curiosity on his face.

Therein lies the problem. I can't explain my emotional connection to this world to Don because he doesn't feel the same way I do. In fact, almost none of the operatives I have met share my opinion. The reason is simple. Don, Wu, Reina, they all awoke to their true natures when they were children. Their adult personalities from home overpowered the host, making matters very clear for them.

I on the other hand, awoke late, in medical school, after spending more than two decades living as Jasvinder Krishnan. When the woman known as Sheryl invaded my mind, Jasvinder beat her back until the two personalities came to a compromise. Jasvinder would work towards Sheryl's aims as an operative and Sheryl would allow him to live his life. When I made contact with Wu, it was clear that the then senior operative was not happy with the outcome, but allowed things to continue, hoping that Sheryl would eventually become the dominant personality. 

But I'm smart. I worked out ways to ignore Sheryl and keep her pacified with the smallest possible concessions. Sheryl's voice is faint now, I hardly hear her anymore. Still I am caught by her bonds with the other operatives. Wu expected me to keep working for management. Don, my partner, is totally unsympathetic to to Jasvinder's points of view. And if Don ever found out that Sheryl is not as in charge as he thinks she is, well ...

He would kill me. Yes, he would kill me so Sheryl can be redeployed to a new host. Don still respects me as the senior operative and as a friend, but its clear he's getting suspicious. 

"They just remind me of friends from home, Don." I say, hoping that this explanation will be enough to satisfy him. 

Don nods to himself before asking, "Have you received the blood call recently?"

"No?" I answer cautiously, not sure what Don is driving at, "We are not in a conflict zone, you know."

"Cool." Don makes a satisfied noise and disembarks from the car, "See you later, Jas."

I watch as Don walks towards the parking area near my clinic, gradually disappearing into the darkness. I never wanted to bring Don to meet Madam. It was a formula for disaster, but I could not keep him out of the loop of the investigation either. The management had made Don the Speaker, meaning that all my reports would have to go through him anyway. And if I did not keep him informed, management would start asking questions. Serious ones that I would have difficulty answering. 

My palms are slick with sweat as I start the drive home. Don should have never been made the Speaker. His promotion was a clear sign that I had displeased management somehow. They had made Don not just my partner, but my warden as well. On paper he may be my subordinate, but who knows what goes on when he's firing off a prayer to god world?

But I can't just hold my peace whenever Don starts opening his mouth about my dead name and what not, though it would certainly be less suspicious. Don's presence strengthens Sheryl. The more he talks about that abominable ideology of his, the stronger Sheryl becomes. There's some kind of sympathetic feedback going on between the two, probably because both of them are outsiders to this dimension. I need to consciously tamp down on Sheryl's presence and affirm the validity of my nature.

Otherwise I would be lost in the battle against the invader in my own head. 

Role play helps. It creates clear thought processes that fence in Sheryl and reinforce Jasvinder's existence. That's why I indulged in physical pleasure and eventually got married. And why I want to keep Madam as a friend. The more concrete Jasvinder's existence becomes, the better I can hold Sheryl at bay. 

Well, no point worrying about Don and Sheryl. Neither of them are going away anytime soon. I reach for my mobile and dial Madam's number from contacts. The least I can do is apologize for causing a scene at her place tonight. 

"Yes Jas?" Madam's cultured lilt, as always is a pleasure to hear. 

"Sorry about tonight." I start, the streets whizzing by as my car hits cruising speed, "I shouldn't have brought Don to your place. Is Sal feeling better now?"

"Its fine. I know it isn't your fault." Madam answers, "And Sal is having a get together with her friends from the club. My guess is that she will be feeling better very soon."

"Great. That's really great." I grin, "Nothing beats an after work party. I had quite a few at your place before I got together with Thomas. Some of them were really wild."

"Oh yes." Madam agrees, "This party is going to be wild. Let's just say Sal and her friends are going to let off steam at a certain someone in particular."

Wait. 

"Madam, what are you saying?" I ask, a lump in my throat. Was this why Don asked whether I sensed the blood call?

"I'm talking about a wild party Jas. Nothing more." Madam smirks over the line. 

"Call them off." I say sternly, "Call them off now!" I cut across the road and begin racing back to where I dropped Don off. 

"Don't interfere Jas." Madam scolds, "We may be friends, but Club Loveless has its prestige to uphold."

"You don't understand." I hiss in a panicked voice, "You have no idea what Don is capable of."

....

Fires burn, ravaging the village that had managed to stay hidden throughout the Fallen War. A small dirt poor thing in the middle of nowhere, its complete lack of strategic value allowed the inhabitants to live in some manner of peace despite the trying times. But now, corpses of beast men and women lie littered all over the ground, riddled with bullet holes. In the distance, I hear the thunder of guns, continuing the massacre. 

I summon my bulwark and make my way through the bloody ruins, hoping for the best, yet expecting the worse. Don had gone AWOL from the unit earlier today. He sent me a coded message, telling me to meet up with him at these coordinates. As I pass the fresh corpses, heat begins to build from within me, from my blood. Its Sheryl, she's making her presence known again. 

Discipline. Remember your training as an Auxilia. Do not yield to the temptation of using the power package. I grit my teeth and press on, ignoring the sick sensation of something crawling under my skin. 

"Help us!" a beast woman runs towards me, tears streaming from her eyes. Holding on to her are two children. A family of cats folk. Boys. Young. The thunder of guns sound again. 

And all three of them fall to the ground in bloody heaps. 

"Monster!" I shout, drawing my sword. And confronting me is a man in full bulwark armor, dual wielding a pair of smoking pistols. 

"This shit's great." the man sighs in ecstasy, "Wu was right, grinding is more enjoyable than sex. Who would have thought, huh?"

"Don?" I whisper, my worse fears coming true, "What's going on? Why are you doing this?"

"About time you got here." Don grumbles, "I managed to save a few flesh bags for you. Get to harvesting that experience man." 

Experience. That dreaded word. I need Don to snap out of that narcotic haze before things get even worse. 

"Don, I need you to listen to me." I say slowly, "Can you do that?"

"Uh, sure?" Don shrugs as he scans the area for more targets, "Oh look, one of the brats survived. You can have that one."

"Your mind is warped from the experience." I explain, "Its distorting your perspective."

"Fuck no. Experience is the best thing." Don scoffs, "My power package already leveled up before you got here. And you know what, it feels amazing. Its like strength is flooding into me with every one of these losers I kill."

"There is the Fallen to fight!" I roar, "If you want to kill, point your guns at them!"

"Don't be stupid Sheryl." Don mocks, "We all know that fighting Fallen does not provide experience. You really need to get your priorities straight."

"Dispel your bulwark Don." I command, "That's an order."

"Sure?" Don says and his bulwark disappears into the ether. His face is rosy and filled with health. Its the experience. Like he said, its already making him stronger. But his eyes are dilated and he looks at me with the deranged expression of an addict on a high. Unlike me Don is not bothering to fight the temptation to use the power package. 

I can't reach him. Don is completely gone. Only the operative remains. I can't save him. But I can still save these villagers. My sword lashes out, seeking to behead Don in one clean stroke. But Don smirks and easily dodges to the side. 

Impossible. He moved without bulwark augmentation. There's no way he can be so fast. It must be because of his power package. 

"Now, now, Sheryl." Don reassures, "I know you're confused right now. It comes with awakening late. But I'm here to help. That's why I scoped out this village for us to harvest."

Don bends over and smears some of the woman's blood on his hands, ignoring the surviving boy's sobs. I take a step back, a bad feeling building in my spine. 

"I'm here to help remind you who you really are." Don says reassuringly. 

"Get away!" I shout and slash with my sword again. But Don jukes underneath the blade and paints my bulwark's sensor node with the woman's blood. 

The scent is overwhelming, and the heat bursts from my chest. A woman's voice screams triumphantly in the depths of my heart. 

The thunder of Don's guns is all I hear, as the harvest continues. 

....

I hate Don.

I love him as my best friend.

He's a monster. 

He's the only real family I have among the flesh bags. 

He knows nothing. 

He knows everything about me. 

He is my partner. 

He is my jailer.

He only wants to help me. 

He wants to destroy me utterly. 

I have to stop this latest harvest. 

I hope he left something for me.  

The guns thunder remorselessly in the depths of the night as I drive towards the parking area near the clinic. Its happening again. Madam inadvertently gave Don the opportunity to grind experience, and he's taking it. But what would I do once I caught up with him?

A figure emerges out of the gloom, running towards my car in panic. Its Sal, the lady Don was bullying at Club Loveless. Tears streak her face and she holds out her hands, begging me to take her away with me. The guns thunder again, and Sal's right leg explodes into meaty chunks. Don strides towards me in his bulwark, carelessly twirling his dual pistols by their trigger guards. Sal twitches on the ground, sobbing, pleading for mercy.

"Saved one for you." Don says, looking on expectantly as I disembark from the car. 

My body moves on its own accord, heedless of my protests. The deployment ring on my finger blazes and a sword is flash forged on the spot, landing squarely in my waiting hand.

And with a single stroke, I pierce the flesh bag's heart. The experience pours into my body, a feeling of both exhilaration and relief. Jasvinder had fed my powers so poorly that I can barely use them anymore. But good thing Don is around. Don always looks out for me. 

"Eat well." Don smiles and extends his fist towards me. 

I complete the fist bump with my brother from another mother, the only real family I have in this world. 

"Be well."

 

End of Prologue