Dawn light already faded to darkness when Phil and Dylan reached their home. The pale moon sent a cool breeze. The cottage lights radiated warmth, shielding the pair from the cold.

“Can you show me the notes now?” Dylan asked as soon as they were inside. The familiar orange and yellow hues of the engulfing him.

“How about after Ann’s asleep, we wouldn’t want her worrying.” Phil chuckled, evidently relaxed.

Hurried footsteps came from upstairs as Ann trotted downstairs, her blonde hair bouncing chaotically. She held a dusting broom more like a knife than a cleaning utensil.

“You’re finally back. I heard students saying you went off again,” Ann stated with her monotone voice, like always, “You two got me real worried, what did I say about coming back home before dinner?”

“Don’t act like mom,” Dylan guffawed, “You’re a year younger than me.”

“And you’re such a gremlin,” Ann deadpanned.

“I’m taller than you!”

“Tell that to yourself.”

The argument ended with Dylan storming upstairs, faking his anger. The wooden staircase echoed Dylan’s steps and thundered beneath him.

“Where are you going?” Ann shouted after him, “Hey! Your bedroom is downstairs, don’t go to my room!”

“Geez, chill out. Just gonna talk to mum,” Dylan eyerolled even though Ann couldn’t see him.

He neared the end of the hallway. Dylan stepped in, realizing the room is in a much cleaner state than previously. His mother’s picture frame had been cleaned, the wooden alter sparkling in synch with the various candles placed. The golden craving of “Elise Nemore” shone impossibly brighter.  

He seated down in front of the alter, hesitating what to say. It had been over ten years since her death, and the family could tease and joke as if mother was still here. However, inside this room, melancholy trailed Dylan.

“Hi mom, a lot of things happened today. You wouldn’t believe it, but I guess I could go from the start ...” Dylan started to ramble on, detailing every event in his day, trying to avoid the unhappy memories.

Elise’s picture smiled kindly back to him, her brown eyes glistening as she posed with “un-lady like” behavior. She had always been a rebel. Dylan recalled Phil sharing the first time they met. Teenage Elise was escaping the horror of wearing dresses and corsets. She hid behind Phil as he distracted Elise’s parents. Phil was the ideal child, so Elise’s parents naturally believed him when he pointed towards the horse barn. The odd pair had been friends ever since.

He recalled his mother threw a fit when Phil ever avoided disclosing office work, whether it’s something as boring as the ownership of a tree. No point in avoiding the truth forever, she will know sooner or later, Dylan reasoned.

“You know Jen right? Me and Ann talk about her often, she well… she died,” Dylan’s voice grew shakier and quieter by the second. He inhaled a deep breath, his lungs shaking as water blurred the edges of his vision. He told her about the dying officer, the black blood. She would understand everything.

“You would love Jen… Guess you can get some company,” Dylan shrugged as he stood up again. He rubbed his eyes for any unwanted tears before going back down.

Dylan ate in silence as mindless conversations were thrown here and there, about the weather, about the office, and about that one time when Mr. Nelson taught the whole class about mathematics instead of math history, so the actual math teacher had a day off. Dylan figured he needed to tell Ann about Jen, the sooner the better.

“You know, Ann got another full mark on her science exam today,” Phil commented, scraping the last pieces of cabbage from his plate.                  

“What? Why am I the last one to know?” Dylan beamed with pride, and the looming storm above him disappeared for a second, “I have no idea how Ann does it!”

“Me neither, must be from some great-great-great-great grandma,” Phil stated, too genuine to sound like a tease.

“It feels more like her superpower than genetic mutation at this point,” Dylan shrugged. Phil chuckled, the creases beside his eyes darkening in a pleasant way as he rocketed back and forth slightly. Ann just shot him a deadly glare.

“That never gets old,” Phil mused as Dylan thought of all the times he called out Ann for being too smart. She might be one of those prodigies, at the thought, Dylan found he couldn’t school down his grin if he wanted to.

The evening continued with less drama. Dylan crisscrossed on his bed, leaning against the headboard. He couldn’t bother reading, anymore literature and he’ll be crowned a nerd. He squinted at the posters on the wall. A few originated from novels or historical fictions revolving around the genres of true-crime or mystery. A poster took the spotlight, its rainbow-vibrant color palette leaping out from the black and dark reds of the room. It featured his kindergarten-favorite story-book hero-slash-animal, Pig. Dylan stared into Pig’s pixelated eyes as the hero stood with bravado, pointing a sword into the sky as its cloak flapped with the wind. He loved Pig because he helped everyone, equally. No prejudice against farmers, no flattery with capital-officials. Like that would happen in the real world. Maybe because he was a pig, so he couldn’t identify humans. Everyone was a blob, every was the same.

He wanted to become an officer because all the figures which inspired him are some form of officer, Pig and Phil both.

When Dylan started kindergarten, he became obsessed with posters and anything that could be hung onto the wall. A dozen more posters were stuffed under Dylan’s bed, all of them designed and printed in Erukas, most of them given or bought from Jen. Since Jen is Erukan, only she has the connections to buy capital things from her friends. Some merchants thrived on this trade, selling Erukan toys, clocks, springs to small towns and villages at unreasonably high prices. Dranem, especially Dylan, won the lottery when Jen came.

Dylan could sense Ann in front of his door right now, the slim shadow casted between the creaks of the door gave her away.

On cue, Ann barged into the room and plopped onto Dylan’s bed, “Dear brother, I forgot to tell you something.” Dylan eyed her questioningly.

Ann continued, “Dinkins told Elsa to tell me to tell you that he said thank you for the help today.”

“I have some news also, “the words leapt out of Dylan’s mouth, like disaster which unfolds in slow-motion, “You might want to sit up a little.” Ann sat up and offered the same questioning look Dylan gave her moments ago.

Dylan inhaled shakily, the small speech coming into his mind. He’d never thought he would use on his sister. First step, prepare the victims’ family or friends by confronting that there is bad news about the victim.

“So, something happened,” Dylan thought over his words.

“Oh god, you have cancer don’t you,” Ann sat up more, “does that mean I can use your room as the library?” A grim laugh escaped Dylan at the thought that he himself might say the exact same thing in the same situation, maybe he would ask for a shooting range instead of a library.

He sighed and continued, “Not exactly, it’s about Jen.”

Ann frowned, Dylan reached his hand up to her, squeezing her shoulders. He never did that, affectionate touches between the siblings just weren’t their thing. Ann’s eyes shot up in alarm when she noticed the small gesture.

“What’s wrong,” she demanded instead of asking.

Second step, let them know that the person has died, don’t use confusing language.

“She died,” Dylan’s voice shacked as he squeaked. Normally, Ann would tease him, but she just sat on the bed unnervingly still, like a statue. The water forming in her eyes proved otherwise.

Third step, give them a moment for the information to sink in, and wait for them to ask questions instead of bombarding them with information.

Ann curled up in the bed, Dylan embraced her tightly and patted steadily. Minutes passed before Phil came in as well. His eyes darkening as he immediately understood what happened.

He sat beside them as Ann noticed his presence, she stared at Phil with bloodshot eyes before asking with an unquavering voice, “Did you catch who did this?”

“He’s dead by now,” Phil responded. Conveniently leaving out that the said he puked out black blood and died in agony.

Ann gave Dylan a look as if to say she would personally torture the murderer if he hadn’t met his end. She took a few deep breathes before heaving herself up.

“I think I’ll go to bed for tonight,” Ann heaved herself up.

Fourth and final step, offer your condolences, and be kind, supportive, and empathetic.

“Ann,” Dylan spoke, “We’ll all be here with you, just so you know.” She nodded solemnly and hobbled out of the bedroom.

Dylan’s eyes followed as she slammed the door.

“Don’t follow her. She needs some time alone,” Phil pulled Dylan back onto the bed. Sensing Dylan’s hesitation, Phil adds, “It’s how she copes, she’ll be fine. Let’s get you to bed though, it’s getting late.”

Dylan nodded automatically, not exactly comprehending Phil’s instructions. His gaze trained onto the door, expecting Ann to reappear.

“You still want to look at Jen’s notes?” Phil asked hesitantly. Dylan’s attention shifted away from the door as he watched Phil pocket out pieces of paper, handing them to Dylan.

Dylan scanned through the notes. On the first page, Erukas Labs were numbered 1 to 15, a few keywords beside each Lab. Shivers ran down Dylan’s spine as he read the scripted handwriting. Lab #1 was labeled with, “Officer Training & Filtering”, while Lab #2 said, “Pill Enhancements”.

Maps were shown on the following pages, Lab #1 and #2 in Erukas while the others all featured places Dylan don’t recognize. He flipped through, until he recognized a small map of Dranem splayed across the yellowish page, a circle was marked on the edge of the map, by the outskirts of the forest and captioned with red letters, “Erukas Lab #12”. Beside the caption, smaller letters were written, “Sample Testing”. As Dylan skimmed through, he noticed short descriptions were present every page.

“These look too real, don’t they?” Dylan shook his head with disbelief, flipping through the notes again.

“Agree, but as a senior officer, even I had never heard of Erukas Labs before,” Phil frowned, adding hesitantly, “The information has a large possibility of being fake. Maybe she-”

“Jen couldn’t have ill intentions when she wrote whatever this is,” Dylan rebutted, Jen was above conspiracies and terrorism, or whatever Phil could be suggesting.

“I’m not saying these notes are ill intentioned. Erukas certainly has ‘Officer Training’. I’m stating that there is certainly nothing like the series of Erukas Labs mentioned,” Phil stated, calm and firm.

“That’s why we need to investigate,” Dylan frowned, “maybe we can try to find the Lab, there’s a map after all.”

Phil sighed tiredly, “Let’s go tomorrow, alright?”

Dylan hummed, shoulders slouching as he laid back down in his bed.