Grace stood in the doorway. She wore her dull gray uniform, though it was scarcely visible between the veritable swarm of bedbug nymphs covering her body. The young insects were still translucent, having never sucked a drop of blood, though more than a few blood-red pinpricks were mixed into the throng. A lot more than a few.

“Grace?” I asked.

“What are you doing here?” she asked. She held out her hand to shake mine. Her smooth, dark skin was peppered with welts. Had the bedbugs been biting her? “It’s okay,” she reassured. “I’m with you guys.”

Both Melody and I had to take a step back. Something was odd about her. Well, no need to phrase it that vaguely. She was covered head to toe with live bedbugs. Had she finally lost it? No... it wasn’t the same. She was still in her human body. “Sorry, but... what’s up with the...” I gestured in her general vicinity.

“Ah. Right. I’m... I’ve been recalling all of these lil guys, is all,” she said. “There are... quite a few more of them than I sent out. They must’ve gotten busy. Or something.” Grace chuckled. “But don’t be... don’t be alarmed. They don’t bite. Often.” Noticing my continued hesitancy, she qualified again. “Okay, I’ll try to keep them off of you.” Gingerly, Grace stepped into the room, trying to stay well-clear of any of the obstacles filling Melody’s room. Even so, she brushed against a potted plant, causing a few hundred of the nymphs to fall off her body and eliciting a small scream from Melody. The bugs skittered across the floor and quickly returned to Grace.

Melody and I still eyed her with some degree of suspicion. But we needed more info. “You’re with us? What does that mean?”

Grace sighed. “You’ve been feeling unsatisfied with the nature of the leadership of Sanctuary 1 and the entire Angelic body as a whole. You feel that the treatment of Russula as disposable is unforgivable, and that something is deeply off about everything. Particularly, the symbiotes are going feral. I... I agree with all that. I know you guys are planning to do... something. And I want in.”

I didn’t know what to say.

“Oh, and I know that you killed your symbiote, Melody.”

“I...”

“It’s okay,” Grace interrupted. “I understand. It was an accident. And she was freaking you out. It... it happens. Maybe. But... I want to help you, okay? I’ve been looking for the traitor, yes. But as I’ve been listening in...” she smirked. “I’ve overheard a lot. And I haven’t been telling Nep all of it. I couldn’t. Not in good faith.” The bedbugs started collecting under her jacket, revealing the rest of her uniform once again. “May I sit?”

Melody seemed to still be in shock from the number of bedbugs. I gave her a nudge, and she begrudgingly nodded, moving over to the far side of the bed as soon as Grace sat down. Thankfully, the bedbugs remained on Grace’s person, though I got the feeling Melody would have some trouble sleeping for the next few nights.

“Don’t worry, Melody. I’ll help you. I know who you can trust. And who you can’t. I have a pretty good idea where everyone stands. After all, I’ve been listening to everything that’s been going on around here.”

“To everything?”

Grace smirked. “Yup. Everything.” Her smile quickly faded, however. “Though, I admit, there really aren’t that many people who you can trust here. Really, there’s just... hm. Well, no. Not her. No. No... well, maybe... Faith.”

“Faith?” But she was... “How could she possibly understand? She’s a... a parasite. You saw how Joy just accepted Miriam at her word. Why would Faith be any different?” And I didn’t think I could really stand to be near her yet. “Not to be... mean, or anything. But what could she possibly understand?”

“What wouldn’t I understand?” Faith stepped into the room, slamming the door shut behind her. “You should close the door if you’re going to have treasonous conversation.” Her eyes darted around the room before settling on me. She still wore the red hairband that Carmen had worn, though her hair was combed completely differently, curly locks gathered together in a single long ponytail. Her hair being gathered like that only accentuated her olive skin and freckles. She still looked a lot like Carmen, but she seemed... more settled in. More comfortable with her body, if that made sense.

“Faith,” I whispered.

“You are so lucky that I came, instead of literally anybody else.” Faith leaned with her back against the door, arms crossed tightly over her chest. “Quinn.... do you even think about how your words might sound? You’re so quick to just... to other people...” She sighed. “Sure, I didn’t.. I didn’t grow up like you. But I understand how you feel. You don’t want to abandon a friend.”

“Faith...” said Melody, putting a hand on her shoulder.

Faith brushed her hand away. “And you know, I think what you’re doing is wrong. The Archangels are overseeing us for a reason. They dictate the decisions that we are too weak to make on our own.” Grace glanced at Melody, then to me. The look on her face said all she had to say. But Faith continued. “But even though I think it’s a bad idea. That it’s wrong. That you’re might you get hurt... I will go with you. Even if you hate me. Even if you don’t want to be with me. Because I don’t want to abandon a friend either.” She stared at me again. Her eyes pierced me.

“I’m... I’m sorry, Faith.”

“You don’t mean that,” she said. “But I want to reach the point where you do.” Those words stung even more. She was right. It was a trite thing to say, after... after everything else I’d said and done. I wanted to make things up to her. I really did. Or... or was I just saying that to make myself feel better?

Melody eyed Faith with suspicion. “I’m still not convinced I can trust—”

“We can trust her,” said Grace. “I knew... or, well, I thought I knew that Faith really would stand with Quinn no matter what. I was a little scared there. But only a little. And... well, to be blunt, Faith, it doesn’t seem like there are many other people who will join... this. A lot of Angels are not willing to disobey the Archangels like that. Yet more are afraid, and others... well, others are already losing themselves in the... in the....” She took a deep breath. “They’re losing themselves to their symbiotes.”

“Actually, though... what about your own symbiote, Grace?” I asked.

Grace held out her arm. Through the writhing mass of bugs, a single individual emerged and began to speak. Cimex. “I am... particularly sensitive to Grace’s concerns, you know,” he said. “There has been a... a new presence within our collective mind, though. A time of change is coming. A crossroads. And the Chorus of Symbiotes is internally... torn.”

“It’s divided?”

“Correct. Although we present a united front to the Archangels, the individual symbiotes... we are of several persuasions. Some among us appreciate the status quo. We understand the complex situation that you find yourselves in. At once, you are Angels who must take part in the great tapestry of history... and yet you were once human, and still think yourselves human individuals who have free will.”

“And the others?”

“The others are tired. They want... well, this is an opportunity to make ourselves known to the world, after all. They want the single move to be decisive. Rapid. Operating at peak efficiency. In such situations... having to operate through a human consciousness is bothersome. So they propose a... an alternative.”

“They’re trying to make us give in. Lose ourselves,” Grace said. “Spooky stuff. I... I think the constant pressure from the Demons, keeping us all cooped up in here... it’s triggering something deep within the collective consciousness of our symbiotes. A sort of ancient instinct, deep within them, making the Angels react. A... a metamorphosis, of sorts.” Her voice was hollow.

That explained the odd behaviour from the symbiotes. And that would mean Vespa... Oh. I’d have to kill Vespa.