The Not-a-Doctor sat at his desk, diligently filling out paperwork. It wasn’t thrilling, but it came with the job. The other, more serious duties—the ones technically more important—didn’t interest him half as much as Alice’s life did.

  “Welcome to my humble office,” he said to the woman materializing in the center of the room. “What brings you in this time?”

  “I’m afraid we need to talk.”

  The woman perched on the edge of the desk, her eyes flicking over the growing stack of documents.“Bureaucracy really is everywhere.”

  “It is. I’ve got obligations, and I won’t lie, you’re not my only focus.”

  The man signed the last paper, stacked it neatly with the others, then reluctantly picked up the next one. He read the first few lines, sighed softly, and set it aside before finally looking up at her.

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  A dense silence followed. It was heavy, deliberate, full of unspoken tension. It was a contest of endurance. She was the first to give in.

  “The world’s gone insane,” she said at last, cutting straight to the point. No use in pleasantries today.

  “I know.”

  That made her smile, just barely.

  “Conscience is too strong. Morals are getting in my way,” she said finally. “Alice still can’t bring herself to draw energy in any way but stealing a piece at a time. You know it’s holding her back. She’s limiting me, keeping me from unlocking a form powerful enough to reach the next level.”

  “You’re the one who created that conscience.”

  The woman met his gaze, her pupils narrowing slightly. She took a slow, controlled breath, her jaw tightening as she prepared to say the one thing she shouldn’t.

  “I know. And now I’m asking you to kill her.”