I played it up a little, nearly stumbling to the ground before I pulled myself up.

“Arthur, what the hell?” Sara shouted.

“That’s enough.” Tyler stood, furious. “Arthur, back off. You’re removed from this discussion.” Arthur swore under his breath and walked to the edge of the instance. “And you.” Tyler pointed at me. “I’ve seen someone work a room before. Don’t act like I don’t know what you’re doing.”

I held my hands up in surrender. “Maybe you have. But consider this. All I did was talk to him, and he resorted to violence. That really someone you want making life-or-death calls?”

“We may want to reconsider,” I heard Sara murmur to Tyler.

Tyler shook his head. “Arthur can be difficult, but he has his uses. And now you’ve made an enemy.”

If the Allfather of Entropy was right, I had no shortage of enemies. One more wasn’t going to make a difference.

“Look, kill the cop, don’t kill the cop, it’s your call. I genuinely don’t care if he dies. What I care about is how his death will affect the bigger picture here.” I said.

“How?” Tyler asked.

“Let's say you kill him. You do it in a way that the cleanup is easy and no one can find the body.” I said. “Here’s the problem. That shit at the hospital wasn’t sanctioned. Maybe eventually we’ll get to that point, but it was too much, too early.”

“You’re saying they were operating on their own?” Sara asked.

“The hospital wasn’t cleared properly, and they weren’t using the correct ammo for close quarters. It was shredding through walls. That, and he made a comment, before he took a shot at me, about how many friends he’d lost that day” I stared at Swat Guy grimly, remembering how terrifying that second brush with death had been. “It took me a while to put it together, but if I’m right, this guy and his squad probably had an early encounter with the wrong group of Users and went dark. Ever watch the news? It doesn’t happen often, but it happens. Especially when a cop dies.”

“You said you wanted him dead. So, why shouldn’t we kill him now?” Tyler asked, sounding a little too confident in my earlier statement. He really needed to tone that down, it was a dead giveaway.

“Pure conjecture, but my bet is someone high up the chain blew the whistle. The killings have all-but-stopped. There’s a weird alliance of cops and Users. And guys like this don’t just martyr themselves. They work themselves up to it. And they always say goodbye.” I stared down at the man on the ground. “Think about it. You’re about to do some stupid shit. You tell your squad—people capable of backing off, unlike you—that you’re going to make a stand at the open forum. Maybe they even try to talk you out of it, but you go anyway. Then you suddenly vanish and are never heard from again.”

“And the cycle continues.” Tyler sighed heavily.

“What are we supposed to do with him then?” Sara challenged. “He knows our faces.”

I hesitated, knowing they weren’t going to like my solution. “Give him to the DPD.”

Sara’s eyes nearly bugged out of her head. “He killed Logan, and you want to give him a paid vacation. Perfect solution.”

“Probably unpaid,” I commented.

Tyler considered. “No, he might be right. Cops generally protect their own—but things are different now. The Users in police ranks aren’t exactly hiding. Someone high up is trying very hard to make that work. They’re most likely already looking for him. And just as motivated as us to keep this asshole from complicating their initiative with bad optics.”

“This is stupid.” Arthur said from the corner of the room. Everyone ignored him.

“Are we done?” I asked.

I’d let them figure out the awkward logistics of handing the wannabe vigilante off to the police. I wanted to collect Ellison and Iris, and get the hell out of here. Even if Sara and Arthur weren’t convinced, Tyler was. And that was all that really mattered.

“We’re done.” Tyler nodded. “But that card I gave you?”

“Yes?” I half expected him to tell me to shred it.

Instead, his parting words surprised me. “Make sure you come by. Maybe it’s obvious, but we need people with a good head on their shoulders.”

“And now we’re recruiting him,” Arthur lamented. “Fantastic. Enlist the psycho.”

“I’ll think about it,” I said, waving behind my head and walking out of the instance.

Once I was out of view, I leaned against the hallway wall, sucking in breaths, fighting off a panic-attack. I could deal with a crisis every week. But I was losing count of how many I’d dealt with in less than four days. It was too much. And I was constantly second guessing myself, with whether involving myself in what just happened was the right move at all.

Maybe I should have used my mask. But the chance that someone saw me put it on, and how the description specifically stated there would be diminishing returns, all made that seem like the wrong move.

I also didn’t know for sure if Swat Guy’s squad friends would even care if he died. But the fastest way to radicalize a group was to kill people close to them. It wasn’t worth the risk, when everything was balancing on the edge of a knife.

I heard a cheer from outside, then another, and another. Confused, I looked out the window to the park area, not quite sure what I was seeing. From my perspective, it looked like an older woman in khaki shorts and a flowery shirt was ecstatic about a baguette. Another person was holding a whole ham, arms extended out, expression a mix of surprise and wonder.

They figured it out.

I wandered outside, a feeling of accomplishment settling over me as warm as the afternoon sun. The feeling of grimness and fear from earlier had faded. Someone had followed the instructions on one of the pamphlets Ellison handed out, regardless of the twenty-minute warning. And once they started pulling food out of midair, word of mouth did the work for us.

My phone buzzed.

Ellison wandered up to me and leaned against the wall, still pretending he didn’t know me. I looked around. Every single civilian and User in sight was distracted, most thrilled. The only ones that looked particularly unhappy were the drones at the local relief effort table.

I closed my fist, leaning it towards Ellison. He bumped it.

A series of notifications pinged.

The feeling of victory was short-lived when I reached the next message.

“Phone’s totally out of service range,” Ellison poked at the extra burner I’d lent him in confusion. “Something’s weird. Wait… do you see a timer in the menu?”

I didn’t have to search for it. As soon as I pulled the menu up it was there:

“I see it.” And from the looks of things, I wasn’t the only one. People were still elated from the sudden availability of food, but some of them had taken notice.

One step forward, two steps back. My first instinct would have been to buy new armor and go back to the dungeon, if I didn’t know how difficult the fight would be.

I stepped out into the park, taking in the confused expressions of the crowd. We had to get Iris and get out of here. I turned back to motion to Ellison and ran face-first into Nick.

Normally, with his leg and the crutch, the impact would have been enough to knock him over. But Nick stood firm. Literally stood. On his own two feet.

“Long time no see my dude.” Nick gave me an easy grin.