After catching up with some of the older staff and introducing Rylie around, Mark mid her a good evening and left to go home. He grabbed another hot dog from Don, knowing that Evelyn would have been mad at him for eating so much junk food. But a proper Chicago hot dog couldn't be beat, and he felt like he had five years to catch up on it.

He walked the couple blocks back to his apartment building thinking about Evelyn. It kept hurting, but he would have to brush it off. He used to be brash and impulsive, but partnering with Jay taught him how to be reflective. They night was warm and slightly windy, and he thought about his life for the last half decade. He had hated his boring office job, hated a house that constantly had problems. He disliked his neighbors and the people who pretended to be friendly at work. The only thing he did like was Evelyn, and that all seemed like a sham in the end. If anything, he felt like all that time was wasted.

"Maybe I owe Strategy an appreciative handshake," he murmured to himself, throwing his napkin away in a nearby bin.

Even though he didn't do much on the mission today, he still felt the rush he used to get from this job. He enjoyed training Rylie and teaching her about their place in the world. She was quick to learn, and hopefully those light-up hands would become something useful. His mind was racing with the possibilities of what it could end up being, when he remembered his own new power.

He looked around, reading people's body language and getting a feel for how they were doing. A man with a bright smile was flipping a sign around for a local burger shop, but his posture and the feeling emanating off of him reeked of regret. A homeless man sitting against the corner of a building was radiating a happiness that Mark hadn't expected/ He was more in tune with the people around him, and even detected small traces of magic from a few people. He couldn't pinpoint what patron they were under, but he knew they were amongst the bustle of the city.

He finally made it back to his building, checking the status of the front desk attendant, who exuded pride in standing there, making sure everyone coming in was clear to do so. Mark flashed his residence badge in exchange for a nod and made his way to the elevator. He managed to contain his laughter until after the doors closed. It was one thing to find pride in your work, but the feeling that guy gave off was like no other. He wouldn't be surprised to find that the Albright Family swept him up under their patronage.

He rode up to his floor, and as he stepped off, a wave of emotion hit him like a truck. He stumbled back into the elevator, only managing to stop the door from closing at the last second. He had mentally kept his shield up throughout the day but stuck his hand in his pocket for the coin, just in case. He made his way toward the apartment that the feeling of suffering was coming from and stopped.

What was he going to do? There were no screams, no sign of duress. Hey, sorry to knock, but I had a bad feeling? That would seem insane. He stood there for a moment, debating what to do next, when he finally heard a smash coming from inside. He knocked loudly at the door, and the briefest feeling of relief reached him between that pain. He focused on his other sense, hearing faint footsteps make their way to the door.

The lock unlatched and the handle turned, revealing Lane. She looked at him with shock, before slipping outside of her apartment, barely opening the door at all.

"Hey. Mark, right? What can I help you with?"

"Sorry. I heard a crash and was just making sure everything was alright," he said.

"From your apartment? Didn't you come from the other side of the elevator this morning?"

He heart leapt, "Did I? Damn, I'm still not used to this place." The like was quick, but the feeling of paranoia from her shifted to understanding.

She smiled, "I get that. I got off on the wrong floor almost every day for the first month I lived here. The family that lives in 2508 probably hates me for how often I interrupted dinner."

The two shared a laugh, then mark piped up, "That crash, though? You alright?" He remembered the feeling he had on the elevator that morning, like something was being hidden just under the surface.

"Yeah, I just managed to back into my cabinet and a few plates fell out. Speaking of which, I should go clean that up. See you later?"

He nodded, walking back toward his own apartment. She was a skilled liar, he had to admit. But something was up. Her emotions shifted erratically through the entirety of their exchange, and he could feel the smallest tinges of magic when she had opened the door.

He made his way inside, keeping the door opened just a crack. If that enormous burst of pain filled the hallways again, he was going to break in, neighborly be damned. He pulled the coin from his pocket, flipping it into the air. When it struck the ground, he molded it into a chair and took a seat. He focused on the door, waiting for any sort of feeling or sound to permeate their shared floor, but nothing strange was happening. He's have to keep an eye on Lane without seeming like a stalker.

"Five years gone, and I'm already back in the thick of it, aren't I?" He murmured to himself before turning on his television. He flipped through several channels before giving up and turning it off. He paced around, his mind racing through the events of the day, before finally realizing his problem. He was alone and bored. For the last five years, he had Evelyn. Before that, he had Lily and Jay. Even before that, Hanna was always at his side, the two of them getting into all kinds of shit and avoiding their parents.

He debated calling or texting his sister of either of his former partners, and almost smiled. Every day for five years, he debated doing the same. Reaching out and seeing how they were doing. Except now, he could do it. Sighing, he threw down his phone. Just because he could do it didn't mean he was going to. They were all glad he was back, sure, but he wasn't ready to face the crap they had all put each other through.

He showered and changed his clothes before deciding to head back into the streets of Chicago. It had been a while since he had walked around the city, never quite worried about it with his shield up. He kept practicing his new observation skills, before feeling a strong magical sense coming from down the way.

He followed it, finding himself going into an area with a bunch of strip malls that had been condemned. He honed in on the one he needed and listened.

"Now, now. No need to whimper and moan. You're going to be a tasty little treat. A dinner for kings! Isn't that what you want? To go out a hero for someone else?" The person kept rattling on, and Mark could hear a whimper behind the voice. It continued, "I am very hungry and once this fire gets nice and toasty, I'm going to carve you up. not like those other guys who just rip into flesh and call it a meal. No, no tonight I deserve to be fancy. Don't you think I deserve to be fancy? A warm meal on a warm night. It's perfect. So simmer down. You're going to fill my belly and I'll remember you forever. Or at least until my next meal."

A shiver ran down Mark's spine. There was no use denying it. A member of The Splurge was hiding out in that mall. His least favorite group, The Splurge, managed to find newer and worse ways to be gross. Some were full of disease, some could control bugs, some just bled and spread pus around, slowly becoming an oozing monstrosity. But then there were others, like this one, who were cannibals. They also tended to never shut up.

"I'm sorry this has to happen to you, I really am. Usually, I would eat humans. Humans are delicious. Maybe even one of the other monsters out there on a desperate day. but I couldn't find any, and I'm so hungry. So then I see you, so nice, so beautiful. And I think to myself, I haven't had dog before. I love gods, so I've never thought about it. But I'm so hungry. So, it's okay. It's okay. Shh. Shh."

Mark had had enough. he reached for his coin, realized he had left it as a chair in his apartment, and ran in anyway. The man standing in the vacant store was taken by surprise as Mark slammed a steel fist into his green face. The man went sprawling but hopped up quickly. He was short, hunched over with greasy black hair that was missing several patches. His boils were actively forming on his face and he stared at Mark with what could only be described as hunger.

"Oh, my. A Traitor joins us for dinner. I've never had a Traitor before. I can save Mr. Puppy for another day."

He lunged at Mark with a knife in his hand. Mark deflected it off of his steel left arm, then sent another uppercut into the man's face. Boils popped and dripped to the floor, where they sizzled. Mark had to stop himself from vomiting as he formed a war hammer into his hands. When the man got up, he swung as hard as he could, sending him flying into the wall, unconscious.

He grabbed his phone and called the agency, who sent out a collection team within minutes, taking the man into custody. By then, Mark had freed the dog, a German Shepherd with no collar or tag. The dog stuck by his side during the process and it wasn't long before Hanna had shown up to secure the scene.

"Taking on The Splurge by yourself on your first day back?" Her eyebrows were raised jokingly, but Mark could sense her concern.

He laughed, "I needed a walk. And then I sensed this guy and heard what he was doing. No time to call in back up."

She blinked, "You sensed him?"

Mark nodded, "Apparently, Traitor gave me a new power. I can sense emotions, am generally more observant, and I can even feel out magic."

She made a face, "That's big news. We're going to need to get Rylie trained fast to make good use of that." She looked at the dog, "Want me to take him to a shelter?"

Mark followed her gaze to the dog that was standing, glued to his leg, "That depends. Does my apartment allow pets?"

"They do, actually. We can take the fee out of your check."

"Works for me. I'll let the attendant know. I'm sure he'll be thrilled to tell me all of the pet rules. "

The two parted ways. Mark didn't have a leash for for the dog but it trailed closely behind him. He made it back to his building, where the attendant was definitely over excited to explain all of the rules of responsible pet ownership in the building.

"And, what is your dog's name?" the attendant asked, pen poised at the ready to take note of his answer.

Mark blinked. He hadn't thought about that. He looked at his new dog, who stared back with a lopsided grin on his face, "Guardian. His name is Guardian."