While on the bus to ‘Chez Manon’ the radio broadcasted a special announcement (or rather re-broadcasted it, since the original had come out yesterday). Apparently, the attack on my workplace was part of a series of small incidents all throughout the city which were caused by a breach in the contaminant field around the Père Lachaise Cemetery, which was the smallest, but also one of the most dangerous urban Wild Land zones.

The radio speaker seemed undecided on who to blame for this incident and switched between blaming the local council for not renovating security infrastructures and accusing a private military group of causing the breach. I arrived at my stop before they had had time to reach a verdict.

“Mademoiselle, can I see some ID?” A police officer called out just as I was running up the hill to the Cathedral behind which I worked.

I had seen a few officers patrolling the streets, but since there had been no proper barricades, I had hoped no one would bother me, and make me late for work.

“Yes, pardon me, right away.” I said.

My ESW popped out between me and the cop. They examined it for a while, then one of their eyes lit up with rune-like energy.

“Umm, excuse me, but what exactly are you doing?” I asked, with a weary tone.

I was worried about the cop being able to somehow override my ESW and make it display all the information that I had taken great care to hide. It had taken a lot of time, and more than one YouTube tutorial to figure out how to do it, and now my YouTube feed was filled with videos for toddlers and small children. And that didn’t even cover all the implications of showing up to work with all my skills on display.

“A routine check, mademoiselle. Don’t worry, I am not checking anything other than your rank and sub-class. I’m not allowed to check anything else anyway.” He replied.

I wanted to ask him why he didn’t ask for permission first, but then I caught a glimpse of his watch and realized I wouldn’t make it up that hill before opening time, no matter how fast I run.

“Then if you’ll excuse me, I am running late for work.” I excused myself.

“Wait just a second.” The officer called out.

I rolled my eyes but did as I was told. I watched as he pulled out a small block note with printed pages, no doubt filled with slips he’d hand out to civilians to excuse them from work.

“I’ll write a note to your boss.” He said, confirming my theory. “I just have a few quick questions.”

“Is it about the incident yesterday?” I asked.

He nodded.

“Yes, were you present during the attacks?”

“Yes, I was at work, at a coffee shop up there.” I gestured in the vague direction of my workplace. “Why?”

“Did you see anything strange?” He asked.

I rolled my eyes again. Really? Did that guy think he was in some sort of fancy movie? Why would I lie about something so ‘mundane’ as a monster attack?

As soon as that thought formulated in my mind, I remembered that a monster attack was the opposite of mundane. I wondered once again what was making me think these strange ideas, and why I didn’t get any of them during the attack. I could have actually helped Etienne out in that case.

“Mademoiselle?” The cop asked again.

“Umm, yes, excuse me.” I snapped back to reality. “I was thinking about it, but nothing came to mind. is there anything specific you’re looking for?”

He looked unconvinced, as he paused filling in that slip in his block note.

“Oh, I do actually have a pretty decent memory skill,” I suddenly remembered one of my only active skills. “If you give me more details, I could look into it.”

He seemed to think for a while before shaking his head.

“No, I think that won’t be necessary. Thank you for your cooperation Mademoiselle Dubois. And I apologize for making you late for work.” He handed me the filled-in slip.

The piece of paper stated that I had been ‘set aback in my daily plans’ by an ‘unplanned identity check’ and ‘questioning regarding recent events’. I thanked the cop and hurried up to work.

***

As I emerged from a narrow alleyway, which thankfully was empty of abandoned suitcases and trash bins today (it was my shortcut, on most days I took the proper road), I was greeted with a barrage of people in reflective yellow vests, moving construction material to and from ‘Chez Manon’ and the surrounding houses.

I stood back, waiting for an opening to get to my workplace. Suddenly I felt a weird tingly sensation in my eye and saw as a red, semi-transparent, ribbon appeared over the ground. Strangely enough, it avoided every single one of the workers, as if showing me a path to follow. So, I did just that.

“Laura!” I heard a male voice call out.

I turned my head, and the path readjusted itself to lead me to a tall black man who’d just gotten up from a bench a few meters from the vitrine of ‘Chez Manon’.

“Etienne!” I joyfully called back, and promptly joined him.

“I was so worried about you!” He said as he leaned in to kiss me on the cheek.

“I’m fine…” I trailed off, as the realisation that I will have to explain how I got out of there suddenly hit me.

“Alex told me you left through the back door with her, but umm …”

“I did!” I blurted out.

I didn’t know why Alexandra would make that up, but it played in my favour. I made a mental note of asking her about it next time I saw her.

“But I think I dropped my phone at some point …” I said.

“Oh, right. Here you go.” Etienne reached into his pocket and handed me my phone.

The screen was cracked, just as I had expected, but not to the point where it wasn’t usable. The camera seemed to be fine, and when I pressed the power button, all pixels on the screen lit up.

“Oh, thank you!” I joyfully said. “So, am I to assume we aren’t getting exploited by that woman today, since you’re loitering outside?” I jokingly asked.

“I was actually waiting for you…” Etienne said and looked to the side.

“Oh.” I suddenly felt bad for making him waste his time waiting for me. He could have just left my phone in the store, or kept it until Monday. “You didn’t have to.” I added, apologetically.

“No, that’s not what I wanted to say…” He trailed off again, as he rubbed his neck, in a self-soothing gesture.

“Wait, what’s that?” I grabbed his hand, and gently pulled it towards me.

“What?” He seemed not to know what I was talking about.

I rolled up his sleeve, about halfway up his forearm, and was upset to see just what I had suspected after catching a glimpse of his wrist. His arm was covered in bruises, all fist-sized, at the location of the advanced attack he had used yesterday.

“It’s nothing,” He snapped as he pulled his arm back, and rolled down the sleeve.

“Etienne …” I didn’t know what to say. Not only did he spend his morning waiting for me (although it was only ten to twenty minutes, it was still a nice gesture), but he had gotten hurt because of me yesterday.

“I need to go.” He suddenly said. “I’ll see you on work at Monday, ok? Bye.”

And just like that, he had run off.

I reached my hand in the air and opened my mouth to call out, but then decided against it. Doing all this for me was very sweet of him, and I needed to find a way to repay him.