Each breath came shallow as Damien struggled to breathe. Florence was laid halfway across him, arm thrown over his chest, but he wasn't heavy enough to affect Damien's breathing. That was all due to his own panic, a guilt deep seated in his stomach like he'd eaten something bad and it desperately, desperately wanted to come out.

He rolled over, feeling the bile rise in his throat as he scrambled to get out of bed. Florence stirred behind him but he didn't have a chance to get up softly, barely making it to the bathroom before he began to heave.

Damien emptied his stomach and then some, feeling the slight tremors through the floor as Florence walked into the room. His hands rubbed against his back, warm and comforting, but Damien barely felt them. He couldn't feel anything but the cold porcelain seat beneath his hands, fingers trembling against it as he tried to stop heaving, stomach empty.

He needed to get this under control.

I don't know what to do.

There was less than eight hours until midterms, and that meant in less eight hours, Vora would be free. She had her plan in place. Damien had helped her get it there. But he was wrong for that, so wrong. Vora wasn't just a misunderstood scientist trying to change the world; she wanted to change the world on the backs of everyone else. She'd hurt her own daughter, nearly ruined her life. Damien had believed her for long enough, and he couldn't anymore.

But the damage was already done.

He needed to do something.

"Hey, are you okay?" Florence asked, his voice soft as he leaned down beside him. His hands worked gentle circles against Damien's back, and Damien wanted nothing more than to shove him off. This was as much a lie as the rest of it. Him and Florence. No matter how much he cared, nothing could change that their relationship was built on a lie, and once Vora broke free, it would all come crumbling down.

"Just ate something bad," Damien managed, croaking the words out with a hoarse voice. "Sorry."

"Don't be sorry," Florence said. "Do you want me to help you down for the infirmary?"

"No." Damien shook his head before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "I can get down there myself. Get back to sleep."

"Damien…"

"I'm fine," Damien forced out, meeting Florence's eyes. "Go back to sleep."

"But—"

Damien cut him off quickly. Maybe he should just leave. Take off now before everything came to light, give himself a chance to escape.

I can't just leave.

"I'm fine," Damien said, forcing himself to his feet. He wasn't certain where he would go, but he couldn't stay here. "I'm just… going to go get some fresh air."

He twisted past Florence, escaping the bathroom and grabbing his shirt before ducking out into the corridor. This early in the morning, Florence couldn't follow without causing a scene, leaving Damien free to go wherever he pleased.

Vora had plans for him once she escaped, plans Damien was no longer interested in being a part of. He didn't want to be a hero either, he knew that too, though he didn't hate them quite as much as he had originally. That left him with the pressing question: what to do?

Leaving was easy, he'd had a go bag packed from the beginning, always ready. But he didn't have anywhere to go. No home. Even the car he had was technically Vora's, and he doubted it was safe to keep.

This was the first place he'd felt safe in, in… years, at this point. There were things he didn't want to just leave, and odds were, Vora would come after him if he did.

He groaned, running a hand across his face. Why had he ended up in this situation?

Because she offered me something I needed, Damien thought, his gut twisting. There was still a piece of him that wanted to reject the truth that Vora was a monster, to ignore everything Vivainne had said and go running back to her. She was all he'd known, the only security he'd had, but what did that really mean? She hadn't taken him into her home. She'd turned him into a tool. Given him an arm full of powers to utilize, made him steal, hack, and track people down all while remaining blameless, at least until Vivainne stepped in. She'd even forced him into the program for her own ends, putting him in direct danger.

For fuck's sake, until the program, he'd still been sleeping in that damn car.

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No, he couldn't go running back to Vora. And he couldn't let her escape either. Because if she escaped, he never would.

Setting his resolve, Damien left his apartment. Before he did, he detached his arm just to be safe, leaving it on the counter. If, after everything, Artemis or the heroes wanted the arm, he'd hand it over, but for now…

He couldn't part with it just yet.

The hallways were empty as he left his apartment, though if he had to guess, very few of the students in them were sleeping. For a brief moment, he wondered if Artemis would even be down below this early, but he could always wait for her if she wasn't.

Without fingers to twiddle with, Damien shoved his remaining hand deep into his pocket, picking at the fabric lining. It was all he could do to keep from moving about like a puppet controlled by a beginner puppeteer, energy twitching through his body.

He made it below without running into a single other soul, and the quiet emptiness of the underground campus made him wonder if it was truly abandoned. The lights were all on, however, illuminating his path to Artemis' office. Would she listen to him? He couldn't be sure, it was such a ridiculous story. He had no doubt he'd get in trouble. Would they lock him up? There had to be some sort of consequences, but…

He was willing to deal with it.

Damien had only been to Professor Artemis' office twice. Once, because he wasn't performing well enough to graduate from the program. He doubted that had changed much, despite the addition of the class that brought him to the office for a second time. A small piece of him, the sliver that had come to enjoy being in the hero training program and the work it was preparing them all for, wished he could wait to tell Artemis until after midterms. He had some information that would put their whole team ahead, and only leave them in competition with Vivainne's team for top score. But at that point, it would be too late.

Reaching the wooden door that marked Professor Artemis' office, the polished, cherry stained wood a better indicator than any signplate, Damien sucked in a deep breath. He pulled his hand from his pocket, knocking on the door, once, twice, then standing in silence.

The only sound that met him was his own shallow breathing.

I'm too early, he thought, taking half a step back. Before he could turn around, to retreat or just find somewhere to sit and wait, he wasn't sure, the door creaked open.

Artemis, dressed like she'd only just awoken, stared at him in confusion from the doorway. He stared right back, eyebrows drawing together, guilt momentarily forgotten. Her blond hair, dark roots showing through, was done into large curlers that betrayed that fact that her usually wavy hair wasn't natural. Under eye patches, like the ones Florence used, sat beneath her eyes, and unusual lack of makeup on her face. She held a steaming mug of coffee in one hand.

"Damien?"

He glanced down quickly, staring at the toes of his well worn tennis shoes. "I'm sorry to bother you so early, ma'am."

"It's all right," she said, with the same comforting confidence she normally held. She moved to the side, freeing up the doorway. "Come in. What brings you to my office so early?"

Damien shuffled inside, standing awkwardly in front of her desk as he waited for her to close the door. "I needed to speak to you about something," he began, and felt something inside him shudder. "I—"

His tongue caught in his throat, the words caught on something like a dam before they ever reached his mouth. He fought against it, as if waging war against his own body, eyes bugging as he tried to force the words to his mouth.

Vora is going to escape today. I helped her, but now I need you to help me stop her. He knew exactly what he needed to say. But he just couldn't convince the words to leave his mouth.

The red dot flickered in the corner of his vision, and panic flooded his chest. It shouldn't have been able to activate if he didn't have his arm on. It was where all the tech lied, aside from the tiny implant she'd installed.

He tried again to force the words out even as his technopathy swelled inside him. For once, instead of looking outward, he cast his sense inward, inspecting his own body. He almost never activated the power, on himself, and when he did, the prosthetic was the loudest thing on his body, louder than his phone or any watch. Without any of that on him, for the first time, he noticed something that had slipped by his perception before. Viewing it, forcing his technopathy to notice it, gave him an odd sense of double vision as the piece of tech glowed in his eye socket.

That shouldn't be there.

"Damien, are you okay?"

He jerked back, caught off guard as she tried to place a hand on his shoulder. Her gaze only grew more concerned, but he didn't have a way to voice any of this to her. Could he write it down, maybe?

I'm only keeping you from making a mistake, Damien. The way Vora typed was cold, not a misstep or pause as the words appeared across his vision. I can be a very forgiving woman.

He felt as though his heart would burst, beating so fast it had to be pushing the limit for what a heart could manage. He needed to say something. Anything. Anything to the professor he'd come to spill his deepest guilts to, and now couldn't.

"If-if I don't do well today, am I out?" he managed, the idea now the last thing on his mind, and yet the only thing he could think to excuse his behavior. There was no stopping Vora. There was only playing along, waiting for it all to happen, waiting for Vora to come after him.

How does she even know? His mind raced as he tried to figure it out. Can she see what I'm doing?

For as long as he had this implant in his eye, he wouldn't be able to say a word against Vora, or ask the heroes for help. He needed to find another way.

Artemis looked at him as though she didn't quite believe him. "It depends," she said slowly, placing her mug down. "We don't just kick people out of the program, though. Do your best, and we will figure out where to place you."

Damien nodded once, jerking his head down so hard his neck popped, and spun around. "Right. Sorry."

He hurried to the door, escaping out into the hallway as Artemis tried to continue talking behind him. Her words fell on unhearing ears as he ran away, desperately trying to plan a way to escape, or better yet, disappear.

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