"You're awake."

I hear Lakme's voice as I stir, gradually opening my eyes. The world is a blur of shapes and colors that slowly coalesce into the familiar surroundings of the kissaten. Lakme is leaning over me, her face filled with concern.

"Good...morning." I moan.

Her blurry silhouette gradually sharpens. I notice that she's holding a fire extinguisher in her hands; she gently places it down on the stone floor. When I look, the booth in which we both had been sitting is a charred mess. My head starts to spin as the realization hits me. The last thing I remember is a bright flash of light, and then everything went black.

"What... what happened?" I ask, my voice hoarse.

"I think I figured out why that building was on fire." she says, "You're a pyrokinetic."

"Pyro...kinetic?"

Lakme nods solemnly, her eyes meeting mine.

"Yes. When you passed out, your skin started glowing red hot on the ground, like a hunk of metal inside of a smelter, and suddenly, sparks started to explode out of thin air around you, setting the booth on fire. I had to act quickly to put you out before it spread."

"I'm sorry..." I say, scratching my head.

"It seemed to come from that anxiety attack...or whatever that was that happened to you when we were talking yesterday."

"Yesterday?!?"

Lakme nods, a worried look creasing her brow. "You've been out for about eighteen hours."

"What's happening to me?" I ask, my voice steadier than I feel. I look around, noticing for the first time the smoke stains on the ceiling and the water pooling on the floor from the fire extinguisher. She places her hand on my shoulder to console me, perhaps not out of compassion, but necessity.

"Let's not fret over what happened. Nobody's going to miss this place if it goes up in flames anyway. You've got a whole city to burn down if push comes to shove."

Her funny retort causes me to smile uncontrollably, but it quickly rescinds; she takes me by the hand and leads me to the next booth, sitting me down and taking me gently by both hands from across the table.

With a heavy heart, I look her in the eyes.

"I think I know where Membrane is. We're in still the small hours of the morning, but the stalkers will be gone soon."

"So...what's your plan?"

Lakme's eyes grow dull, and, while her elbow is planted onto the table with her hand pressed against the top of her head, she begins to stir her coffee with a spoon aimlessly.

"Harley's headed towards a mall that's just a little ways away from here." she answers; I nod firmly in response, with what seriousness in my eyes I can muster, "But there's a problem."

"There's always a problem..."

"It's not just any problem. What you've seen so far is nothing in comparison. Something is waiting for us there. I'm almost hesitant to go. But I can see something else happening to you if we don't find Membrane soon...something bad."

"You mean to say you don't know what this thing is?"

"Things that I'm completely unfamiliar with are a blur to me, but it's the better option of the two. I can strongly sense an omen. I don't want to see you burn up, not after I've just met you." she says, her eyes drifting slowly to the side; there was a hint of dishonesty in her voice, though I couldn't tell what she was lying about.

"Can you describe to me exactly what it is that you see?" I ask.

Lakme sighs and leans back in her seat.

"I wish I knew," she admits. "All I can see is a blur of energy surrounding a wide building, like nothing I've ever seen before. Who knows what that could be? The important thing is, we're unlikely to die. But if we don't go, you definitely will."

"Unlikely?"

I feel a chill run down my spine at her words, but she doesn't seem to be fazed by it.

"Don't tell me you don't know how precognition works. Did you flunk out of high school? Nothing in this world is absolutely certain. Even if I'm 99.9% sure I'm not going to die tomorrow, there's still that .1% creeping up on me, waiting for an opportunity for things to go perfectly wrong."

"...Just like how there's no such thing as a perfectly straight line, or a perfect circle."

"Exactly."

As the sun peeks over the mountains, Lakme opens the blinds; in the corner, the shadows from the blinds of the window were disguising a door I failed to notice until now. 

"Hey, there's a room over there." I mention to her, intent on approaching.

When I open the door, piles of folders, files and printing papers collapsed between my feet, sliding out onto the dining room floor. A sudden rush of stale air suddenly tears through the surrounding cobwebs and shoots into my face the moment I bring my head beside the door.  With the turn of a knob I become swallowed by a bed of chaos as swarms of paper surround my feet. Just as I lift my foot to kick some of them back, I'm interrupted by Lakme, who begins to laugh uncontrollably.

I sigh in return, and once her laughter subsides, Lakme walks over to me, brushing a few strands of hair out of her face.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to laugh," she says, a twinkle in her eye. "See? That was completely unexpected. No matter what happens, no matter how certain you are, there are things you can never predict."

I bend down and start flipping through the files and papers scattered on the floor. The room is dusty and the papers are old and yellowed, but I have an intuition that there's something important in here. Lakme doesn't seem to care very much, strangely enough, which gives me less confidence, but I figure it could be because she's bullshitting me about her "powers". When I find nothing valuable on the floor, I enter the room and look to the right, seeing something like a monument of scrambled documents. I'm somewhat impressed by the time it must have taken to leave this place in such a mess. I swat the tower of jumbled papers away, creating a wave of documents that crash into the ground, colliding with the table across from the door. I check the drawer desk, where I found a piece of parchment taped to a photo. It was an aged and faded Polaroid of a remote location within a forest, where there was a wooden cabin nestled between the trees, in a circular clearing. Whatever was written on the parchment was in a language that I couldn't read, but it didn't seem like the gibberish I had been seeing around town.

"Hey, come here! I found something!" I called out to Lakme. When she rushed over, I held it before her eyes and they lit up for a second.

"Do you know what language this is by any chance?"

"Oh...that looks like Russian!"

"You wouldn't be able to read Russian, would you?" I jitter, half-jokingly.

"Hmmm..." she mutters, "As a matter of fact I can." she says, swiping the photo from my grip before examining it closely.

"'Mikhail.' That's all it says." she continues, flipping it over and squinting hard at it.

"Mikhail? Do you know anyone named Mikhail?"

"No, I've never met anyone with that name."

"Have you run into any Russians?"

"I haven't. This picture is old. Very old. Like it hasn't been touched in centuries or decades. I can't get a reading on it. More than likely, whoever took this picture is dead."

"Well, whatever then. But just look at the place! It's probably not just any cabin in the woods. Someone was trying to get there. Do you think it could be some kind of safehouse?"

"If you're suggesting we take a trip to the far north, I've got some bad news for you; that's where the stalkers hide out during the daytime, in the direction of the mountains. Out of curiosity I went there by myself last week; the further north I went the weirder it looked, the less I could tell up from down, right from left. Beyond the north, Ultima Thule, nothing but death awaits you there."

"'Ultima Thule'? What's that? Are you some sort of chuuni?"

"I'm being dead serious. You must not be the bookish type. The Ancient Greeks thought those places were real, and they probably were, just like Atlantis. The northernmost places in the world have always been thought to be the most dangerous, home to uncivilized savages and nomads."

"Thanks for the history lesson, I guess."

And as I said this, I snatched the picture back from her and tucked it into my jacket.

"Something is probably there waiting for us," Lakme said, her voice suddenly stern, "We may have to go there at some point. Right now is not the best idea."

I chuckled, "What's the matter, you see something bad happening?"

She sighed deeply, her emerald eyes locking onto mine. "Whenever I see a 'bad path' most of the time, I know what's going to happen. Seeing myself disembowled, crushed, torn limb from limb, suffocating. I can feel it as if I was there. It takes some getting used to. But sometimes I don't see what happens, there's just a great void. Like something is telling me 'There's nothing good for you over there.' and when I look at that picture, that's exactly what I see."

"That sounds terrifying."

"It is, but it gives me a great advantage, perhaps better than any esper. And if at any point I know for certain I'm going to die, at least I'll be prepared."

"Right," I said, "That brings us to the question. Who else is here that I don't know about?"

She sighs once more before responding.

"This thing between me and Harley; it started as a dispute over trying to contact the others."

"Well what was the dispute about?" I ask.

"As I'm sure you noticed, we're not going to survive like this forever if we stay in small groups. We need to organize, we need some sort of plan. Something really big is coming in the not-too-distant future, and I'm not sure what it is; even Membrane has said as much, though he's only mentioned it in passing."

"But the issue is that Harley wants to be in control."

"He's a classic narcissist. Exactly the kind of person who should never be in control of anything. I'm not sure if you've noticed, but he seems like used to be a gangster at some point. Maybe he was higher up, possibly some kind of hitman. Very crafty and quick with his hands. But his attitude is a big problem. I knew that if I tried to get him to negotiate with anyone, my efforts would just fall flat. "

"You think Membrane is going to get us into contact with these people?"

"It's our best bet." she nods.

"And you think we can trust him?" I press further.

Lakme hesitates for a moment. "Not sure. We're grasping at straws here. I still understand very little about what's going on, but if it seems like he's trying to fool us, then our best option would be to do the exact opposite of what he says and go from there. We need to find out where Harley is headed. If he's going to that mall, we need to get there soon," she says, determination clear in her eyes.

I nod, "Alright then. Let's get moving."

Lakme smiles, "Glad to hear you're on board."

We gather our things and head for the door; as I look back I feel a sudden sense of familiarity, as if I've been here before. The papers strewn on the floor, the half-opened blinds, the hazy morning light filtering through – everything feels eerily reminiscent. For a split second, I'm overwhelmed by a faded memory of the kissaten, filled with ghosts. At the counter there are two ghosts, in the shape of a man and a woman, making coffee. The woman looks in my direction, and although I can't see her face, I get the feeling that she's smiling at me.

Lakme notices my lingering gaze and nudges me, "You alright?"

I shake my head, trying to shake off the uncanny feeling. "Yeah, just... déjà vu, I guess."

As we step outside I notice that the drone of the city's organs and the swoosh and humming of it's circulation are replaced by a tense silence, broken by the distant sound of sirens. Lakme and I exchange a look of unease.

"That sounds like an ambulance."

"We need to be careful," she murmurs, "Something's not right."

We move stealthily towards the street corner, sticking to the shadows below the pillars of the railway. Every so often, Lakme stops, closes her eyes, and concentrates, trying to get a sense of the impending dangers.

"Got your gun?" she asks, and I nod in return. When the faint light coming down from the clouds gleams across the silver finish as it rests in my hand, I glide my fingers across it and suddenly remember that the safety on my gun is still on, but I still haven't figured out how to turn it off. I examine the gun closely as I follow her until we reach the corner, and Lakme signals for me to stay low. Peeking out, she scans the street ahead, her eyes narrowing as they catch sight of something. Pulling back, she looks at me with a serious expression.

"Something's coming! Stay sharp!"

In the distance a car is speeding down the road, the sound of the sirens growing louder. As it comes into view, we see that it's not an ambulance, but a police car, violently swerving through the lanes as it approaches; just as it's about to pass the intersection, it loses control, skidding, hitting the curb and flipping several times before landing upside down in the middle of the road. The sound of crunching metal takes a moment to subside, and it isn't very long before the vehicle catches fire. Instinctively, I begin to cross the street, away from the wreckage but Lakme stays where she is, watching closely.

"What are you doing?" I shout, "We need to get away from here!"

She doesn't respond; I can see the faint crimson glow of the embers in the reflection of her eyes. The heat from the burning vehicle grows more intense, and the air is suffused with the smell of burnt rubber.

"Just watch. Don't make any sudden movements. Nothing is going to happen to us if you stand still."

I turn my attention towards the flames consuming the inside of the car, searching for any sign of movement. To my horror, I see a bloodied hand pressed against one of the shattered windows. Instinctively, I move forward, but before I can get too close, Lakme grabs my arm, pulling me back.

"Just watch!" she warns, her grip firm.

"The safety on my gun! How do I turn it off?" I clap back.

Lakme's gaze shifts from the flaming wreckage to my trembling hands clutching the gun. She seizes the gun from me, efficiently flicks a small lever, and then hands it back. "Safety's off now. Keep it trained towards the gas tank. Finger on the trigger."

I nod, gripping the gun tightly. My heart races as I watch the burning car, trying to spot any sign of the person trapped inside. The bloodied hand remains motionless, and the flames grow higher and more intense. As I stand frozen, a minute passes and nothing happens; I breathe a sigh of relief, and let my guard down.

Suddenly the sound of metal scraping against metal smothers the silence. Large, spider-like limbs pierce through the car's undercarriage, wrapping themselves around the suspension. I quickly turn my gun back towards the vehicle, but before I can do anything, Lakme fires her pistol; the vehicle erupts into a tremendous fireball, killing whatever is inside. She blows the barrel of her gun like a seasoned gunslinger, and tucks her pistol back into her holster.

"You need to be more careful." she scolds me as she looks back, "Did you see the direction that car was coming from? That's where we're headed."