I waited outside the room as the guards restrained EW-54, trying to mentally prepare myself for, one, seeing him again, especially after he tried to kill multiple people over the month I was gone, and, two, using the sketches of the images I had seen against him.

The offerings we gave to the gods weren’t even effective.

They literally just threw them back at us.

Why were so many gods so rude?

The metal door opened, and the guards let me in. The door slid shut behind me, and I was alone with EW-54 in a small concrete room.

He was firmly restrained to the metal-frame bed, which was bolted to the floor and center of the right wall. The restraints bound him tightly around his chest, knees, wrists, and ankles. There was a shock collar around his neck, which I had full control over and had set to one of the lower settings. I could only hope I wouldn’t have to use it; Clementine and Elijah Hall had already used it enough.

I pulled the wooden chair over from the desk and sat. His tired blue eyes flicked to me for a second, looking me up and down before settling back on the ceiling.

“So, how has your month been?” I asked. “Mine was wonderful.”

He rolled his head to stare at me, as if to say, “What do you think?”

I lightly smiled, trying to cheer him up, “Well, you’re responsive to me, that’s more than I hoped for. I know you ignored Clem‒ Dr. Johan, and tried to kill Agent Hall, but you’re responsive to me. Mind my asking why?”

He blinked, seeming to be pondering my question.

His chapped lips parted, “You’re….”

My brows furrowed, “I’m what?”

“...Different.”

“How so?” I tilted my head.

He didn’t reply, staring blankly at the ceiling. I looked down at my tablet, skimming over Clementine’s notes. He hadn’t reacted whatsoever to her questions when he wasn’t feeling murderous, why was he reacting to me?

“You smell of fallen angels.”

My head snapped up, staring at him. He was still blankly staring, no evidence that he had spoken, but there was no mistaking his tired, raspy voice.

“Wh-what…. What do you mean?” I asked, trying to keep my voice from wavering. “H-how did you know that…. That I’m ex-Catholic?” That had to be what this was about.

His head rolled to look at me, suspicion and fascination in his eyes.

It quickly became apparent that he wasn’t going to answer, just stare at me intensely, as though he were imagining what it would be like to claw and bite me, to spill my blood and add it to his… collection.

I sighed, “I traveled to EW-7. I believe you called it the Winter Alliance? You’re fluent in that language? The… Latin-Russian mix?”

“Qui sodal etot lingua,” Ice replied. It flowed out of his mouth with a graceful precision that I had never heard, that made my heart beat a little faster. Were all the winter citizens like this?

I glanced up at him, “That’s a yes. But, during exposure testing with EW-1‒”

“Michael.”

“Michael,” I corrected myself, nodding. “‒you spoke in a different tongue, one he understood. He couldn’t read your writing, but he translated what you said to him. Does he know the… winter language?”

Ice remained quiet and unmoving.

I took a deep breath, preparing myself. I opened the file that held the sketches of what I had seen, “While at The Winter Alliance, I touched EW-7-1. The Gods’ Wall.”

His gaze snapped to me, blue eyes wide.

“I… saw some things, had visions,” I opened the image of the tiger boy. I showed it to him, “This boy. He has the same metal limbs as you. I saw him screaming, bloody in an empty white hallway. Do you know him?”

Ice’s muscles stiffened. His jaw was clenched. He frantically glanced between me and the sketch, seeming to be contemplating something.

Finally, he breathed, “Please don’t ask me about the metal.”

I frowned, “Why not?”

“B-because…,” he dug the side of his head into his shoulder, ears pinned down and limbs pulling at the restraints. “B-because th-they’ll t-try to… to sh-shut me up.” He clenched his teeth and fists in pain. He seemed to have a difficult time breathing, taking in short bursts of air.

“Okay, okay,” I pulled the tablet away. “We don’t have to talk about that. Let’s talk about the Winter Alliance, okay? Can you do that?”

Ice took a few deep breaths, eyes closed. He opened his eyes, nodding.

“Okay,” I switched to the sketch of the stained glass window. “So, about the gods. You worship them?” A thought came to mind. “Should we discuss altars and prayer mats? Do you have that sort of thing?”

Ice burst into laughter. His white fangs were clearly visible. Tears came to his eyes as he laughed.

“Oh, well, now I’m just hurt,” I said as he calmed.

“I do not worship the gods,” Ice chuckled.

“Oh, are you… an atheist?”

Ice paused, still calming from his laughing fit.

I sighed, “We attempted to leave gifts at the wall for the gods: a knife for the tiger, a silver necklace for the lion, and a woven basket for the wolf. The gifts appear to have been rejected, as they were found a few meters from the wall the next morning. Care to explain that?”

Ice’s light smile disappeared. “Imagine you are one of them. You have been worshiped by your citizens for centuries, millennia. They adore you. Then they are slaughtered due to the mistake of one man.” His eyes grew distant and pained. “For years, you are alone, honored in memory by lone orphans and widows, traditions scattered to the winds. Then some humans come along. They study your city, catalog it, patrol it, run all sorts of experiments…. Then they have the audacity to attempt to leave gifts. You are lucky the knife was not found in your throat.”

I slowly nodded, understanding his point.

I held up my tablet for him to see the sketch, “This is one of the things I saw when I touched the wall: a stained glass window depicting what appear to be human versions of the gods. At the Gods’ Wall, the gods are in their animal forms. What’s up with that? And what’s with the second wolf? There’s only one wolf at the Wall.”

Ice sighed, completely calm. He turned to face me, “I am debating whether or not to tell you the story of the gods. Pro, I like you, and you are not like the others. Con, you may use this against me, as you are pitifully attempting to do with the visions that you have been blessed with.”

I sighed, putting my tablet on my lap, “Why me?”

He raised a brow.

“Why are you speaking to me?” I questioned. “You ignore or attempt to murder everyone else that tries to communicate with you. Yet here you are, speaking to me, telling me things. No matter how vague and confusing they may be, no matter how many more questions they bring up rather than answer, you’re still talking to me. So, why? Why me? And don’t say it’s because I smell like fallen angels, whatever that’s supposed to mean. Give me an answer I’ll understand.”

Ice was quiet for a long moment. He seemed to be genuinely pondering it. “I…. I don’t know. I just… speak. Without trying to, it just flows.” He lightly chuckled. “I have to mentally smack myself, remind myself that you’re technically the enemy.”

I frowned, “I thought you liked me.”

He nodded, “I do. But you still work for them,” he eyed the lanyard around my neck, and the lab coat I wore. “And I am far from trusting a human scientist. No matter how blessed or cute he is.”