We made it to the back door of the Mansion. It was locked, but that meant nothing to me. I squeezed below the door gap and unlocked it from the other side. This skill has come in handy more times than others. It's a great way for people to make unknowing donations to a small god.

One time, some people didn’t take kindly to my claims and threw me into the back of a van to sell me to some pasta warehouse that uses “free labor.” Well, they made a pit stop to grab a bite to eat, and I squeezed through the gaps of the door. They were left with chains that could never hold me and an empty back seat. They also lost a food bag of loose pasta. I don't need to cook it to eat it, as it can be shoved in my slime. It tastes bland, but it's free.

I was less nervous then than here.

As we walk through the house, we take care with every step. We cling to the shadows and avoid turning on any lights. Emanuel has the house's layout memorized, so it's better not to give Crimson any advantages. However, all this is hard to do when you are bright orange. We make it to the garage door without any trouble.

Emanuel pulled me back before I could reach the door and pointed at the floor. Invisible to the unobservant eye was a thin wire. I followed Emanuel’s finger to the light above us. I extended up to a small chandelier. I stretched up there, not moving my lower body, and found that the light bulb had been replaced with a green crystal.

I could feel a massive amount of the Source inside. If we had tripped the wire, this crystal would blow up. It looks like this blast would be concussive with a hint of fire magic, meaning the ceiling would fall on us and burn me in the process. It wasn’t strong enough to bring the building down, but it was strong enough to either kill us or hurt us enough for the man to get the drop on us.

“We need to disarm this or at least step over.” I stop talking, and as my head stretches back down, I see Emanuel tinkering with the wire.

“Already on it.” Emanuel continues to tinker with the wiring in a hidden panel. “My dad taught me this when I was supposed to take over the company. Why don't you keep looking out as I disarm the trap?”

I stared, baffled at the fact of a boy his age. Still, it is a useful talent. I kept my eye out for our mysterious foe. I examine every inch in front of me. From the side table, the end of the hall is one of the many living rooms, where the pantry and kitchen are to our left and the family photos adorn the wall. A long triangular shield on the wall. There are a few scuff marks and battle scars. It must be a family heirloom, but not important enough to mount in one of the living rooms. It was then the thought hit me.

“Do you want anything?” I ask.

“We should focus on getting out, not eating, " he says, holding a piece of wire in his mouth.

“No, I mean from your house. Ancient heirloom passed down for generations, as a special item that your parents gave you that has a ton of sentimental idols, a picture?

Emanuel is quiet. I didn’t turn to face him as a gesture so that he could think on his own. I hear the soft sound of wire moving as he stands up. He hops on a side table and unscrews the crystal.

“No, I’m good.” He says, pocketing the crystal.

“We can get it before he finds us.”

“No, my family’s home was burned to the ground by Crane and Crimson while my family and those who worked in the home made sure I escaped. All that was important to me was in there. This is a vacation home. The only thing worth taking is all that I remember in this home.”

Hearing those words from a kid wounded my soul. I walked up to a small picture frame hanging on the wall, popped the picture out of the frame, and handed it to him.

“Memories aren’t as eternal as one believes. Sometimes, they got locked behind a door or misplaced in one's mind. That's why we collect things, to help us keep those memories alive. No matter how much time passes. “

Emanuel took the photo and stared, his eyes filling with tears no matter how much he tried to hold them back.

“Thank you.” He took the photo and folded and placed it in his pocket.

“Let's get to Solar Sail and get out of here,” he says, wiping his face.

Emanuel walks up to the door and turns the handle, but it doesn’t open. The door is made of metal, with thin gaps between the frame and floor. I’ve seen doors like this before. They are meant to match the esthetic of whatever room they are in, but their main purpose is high security. It has multiple reinforced deadlocks with a spell to reduce damage to the door.

I see the keyhole is a circle indent near the handle. It doesn’t use a normal key but one embedded with the Source and crafted by a spell. All the doors leading to the outside must be like this one. Yet the back door wasn’t fully locked. I had to squeeze in, but after that, all I did was turn the handle. There was no security spell or anything preventing me from slipping under. There were no traps here either; the only one was in front of this door.

That meant he knew what our goal was, but more so, he wanted us here. Right then, the hall echoed with the BANGS from the muzzle. I feel two bullets hit my back and swim inside me. I stumble forward, looking up at Emanuel’s horrified eyes. He ran to me but stopped right before touching me. His hands hovered over where the bullets were in me. I shook off the hit and kept standing.

“Thank you for being as predictable as I wanted you two to be. “ We here from the end of the hall.

I turned to see Crimson walking down the hall past the kitchen entrance. The spell was still preventing me from looking at his face. He held a pistol in one hand, and in the other, he held up the key. It had a round flat impression, like a stamp, and a symbol engraved. The same as the on the door.

“I appreciate the little game we had, false god, but this is where it ends.” Crimson taunts.

My legs visibly wobbled, and I started to lose my shape.

“Leave us alone! We just want to leave.” Emanuel shouts.

“No can do. “ Crimson addresses me once more as I begin to slouch over further. “What makes you think you are a god? Gods are powerful beings who control the very idea of destiny. They are unburdened by life, and more so, powerful above all that exists. They have power that can make the cosmos shake in fear.”

Emanuel took a step forward, but I held my melting arm up. He stared into my eyes, and I nodded my head.

“All I see is a pile of goo, gasping for life with two bullets in his back.” He steps in front of me, Looking down on me as many have before. I cough as I speak, as my form melts more.

“And I…see…a…” I whipped my head up at him as I dropped the act and returned to my regular state. “SUCKER!”

The bullets are pushed through my body as I point my index finger at him like it is a gun. He jumped back, but it was too late; the bullets fired out of my finger. The bullets lodge into the arm, holding the stamp.

“I know it’s not as strong as a regular gun, but I bet those bullets hurt!”

I made my next moves quickly. He drops the stamp, but before it can hit the ground, a hand stretches out my extended hand and grabs the key. Crimson recovered quickly as he pulled out his knife from behind him, but I was already on my next move. I fire five arms out of my chest with crystalized fits at him. He takes the brunt of all of them except the one aimed at his head. My fist is redirecting as he uses the gun to push it away, but my shop knocks are able to cut the side of his neck.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself!” Crimson shouted. His feet slid on the ground as he was pushed back. “You false god. You can only wish to be a deity while I am on the path to becoming one. No matter the cost. Be it your life or the kids.”

I see the passion burning in his eyes as he leans forward. He stares at me, reading my expression. His eyes jump to Emanuel, who stares in shock. It was clear to Crimson that, at that moment, we could see his face.