Misery watched silently as the orange haired woman shifted into Hero Arbiter. Her new ensemble twisted onto her figure, the fabric seeming to flutter in an invisible tempest. Her civilian clothes sunk away into the crimson folds, and her blue eyes were obscured by the familiar mask that spun over her face.

He opened his mouth to speak, but couldn’t find the words. Should he be mad at her? Was she still mad at him? “I killed Bona Fide,” he said, finally.

“That’s—” Harbiter hesitated. “That’s good. Thank you.” She glanced again at the ranger’s body.

“But that’s not good, I’m guessing,” he said.

She inhaled deeply and walked to Misery, putting a hand on his shoulder. A burst of smoke billowed from behind her, making Misery squint in confusion, but he didn’t get to ogle for long.

They blinked onto the rooftop they had started at.

“So what now?” asked Misery.

“I’m tired,” said Harbiter. She sat down on the concrete roof edge. Tim’s golden smile was burned into her mind.

“You’re out of teleports. Where you sleepin’?”

She technically could still teleport, but she wasn’t about to tell Misery that. She needed to keep a few things from him. Just in case. “I’ll find a place.”

“We should talk,” said Misery.

“Later,” she replied.

“You know, I feel a bit bad for killing that guy you were chattin’ with, but I got my own set of grievances to air.”

“I know. Later.”

“How ‘bout this,” said Misery. “I room you tonight at the nearest hideout. Then, I go out and get a big ass, deep dish pizza, and we talk terms and conditions, deep dark secrets, and philosophies. We hash it all out over some steaming hot tomato sauce, pepperoni, and mozz. End of tonight, we’re either partners forever or we were never partners to begin with.”

She swallowed. “That sounds very intense.”

“My daddy didn’t raise a pushover. We have a problem, we talk.”

“I don’t know if I can,” said Harbiter. “Talk, that is.”

“Let’s start with the room,” said Misery.

He tugged at her jacket, and she stood.

She followed him through the city, feeling dazed. Cars and people and buildings blurred together in her vision. The world sounded muffled, like she had hidden herself under blankets during a thunderstorm.

Why did the death of the ranger bother her? It wasn’t like she had never seen death before. How had she not noticed Misery approaching with his blade? Had she been that enamored by Tim’s smile?

Washed up.

Misery led her through a dim lobby, spoke a few words to an even dimmer looking receptionist, then deposited her into what looked like a cramped hotel room. He threw her a sympathetic glance. “Be back in a few.”

The door clicked behind him.

Harbiter sat on the bed for a few moments and stared at the ceiling, then pulled out her phone and tapped on the audio file.

Gaps in the ceiling of the cave let beams of light in, giving it a cozy ambiance. The largest beam shone like a spotlight onto a carved, stone pedestal. A deep blue orb sat in the center of the beam, sparkling with the lights of a thousand stars. Tim’s eyes sparkled back. It was a gorgeous reward to crown off their hard work.

Smoke lazily rolled into the room from behind them, evidence of the monsters they had slain.

“Just one lousy spell?” asked Bona Fide. “Guess we can sell it and split the profits. I was hoping for an artifact, not a consumable.”

“Or,” said Tim, “We could…” he gulped. “Well. We make a good team, right? One of us can take the spell, and the other two can take the next two items we find. I’ll happily take the spell if you don’t want it.”

“Right,” said Bona Fide. “No thanks. We sell it.”

“I’ll take it,” said Spoofus. “I’m always happy to add to my arsenal.”

Bona Fide scowled. “We sell it.”

“Let’s see what it is, first,” said Spoofus. He stepped toward the pedestal and reached for the orb.

“You’ll die if you touch that,” said Bona Fide.

Spoofus flinched his hand away. “How do you know?” he asked. He looked at the orb fearfully, as if he fully believed that touching it would spell his doom.

Tim watched the exchange with confusion. It was just an ordinary spell orb, as far as he could tell. Maybe a bit prettier than the ones you could buy at a shop.

“You should listen to your party leader,” said Bona Fide. “Do what he says.”

“Who made you the leader?” growled Spoofus. “Did you do something to that spell? Is it a trap?”

Bona Fide grinned. “Yeah. This whole place is trapped. Take one step and you die.”

Spoofus rooted in place like a statue. Sweat dripped down his face, and his eyes widened with fear.

“I’ve been the leader this whole time,” said Bona Fide, “Don’t you remember? We said it at the beginning.”

“Right,” mumbled Spoofus. “I forgot.”

But what did he forget? No leadership had been established in the group.

Tim didn’t like whatever was happening. This exchange felt off to him. He cast ‘conceal,’ a ranger class skill. His body became translucent and seemed to smudge into its surroundings. His footsteps became quiet and sounded distant. He hid behind a boulder, warily.

“Don’t you want to die a little?” asked Bona Fide. “It kinda sucks being a jerk, doesn’t it?”

“What the fuck are you talking about, man?” asked Spoofus.

“You’re a real jerk hole,” said Bona Fide. “Jerk holes should step in traps and die.”

Spoofus took a step forward, tripping a little. “Hey!” he shouted. “There’s no traps. You’re messing with me, you smug fucker!”

Bona Fide shrugged. “You are a jerk hole, after all.”

“Whatever. We’ll sell the stupid spell. Let’s get out of here.”

“You want to take it then?”

Spoofus looked back to the spell, which shimmered daintily on its pedestal. “I ain’t touching that thing.”

“If you don’t take it you’ll die,” said Bona Fide, as if it was simply fact.

“I don’t believe you,” said Spoofus, but the mage hovered a hand over the spell indecisively. “Fucking double bind,” he said.

Tim slowly backed into the cave they had entered from. Why was he so bad at picking crews? He pressed himself against a wall, cold rocks digging into his back, and froze, listening, as the conversation grew more frantic.

“You fucker!” shouted Spoofus. “I’ve had enough of this!”

“Don’t you remember this is a no spell zone?” tried Bona Fide. There was an explosion, and Tim felt the pressure of it slam into him. Evidently Spoofus had cast a spell anyways.

“You deserve to die!” declared Bona Fide. “You’re insolent! Weak! You can’t cast spells! You can’t move! You’re a worm!” Spoofus screamed, and metal sounded against flesh. “You’re a fool! I hate you!”

Finally all that could be heard was Bona Fide panting. Then, the killer barked, “I know you’re around here somewhere Tim! Where are you hiding?”

Tim’s heart stuttered. He stuffed soft blue moss into his ears and started down the caves, away from his new crew. Bona Fide’s loud footsteps followed.

It was June, the month of the twins. Tim cast his unique skill, ‘gemini,’ and a new Tim split away from him. The dupe stepped out from his body, then looked around in a moment of confusion. Tim’s max health and stats immediately halved.

“You head out,” whispered Tim. “I’ll hide. At least one of us lives, or, luck have it, we reconvene later.”

“Good luck,” replied other Tim. “May we merge again.”

“Stay safe,” said Tim. They shared a thumbs up and a smile. Then, his copy left him, his silhouette smearing into the shadows.