June 7, 2045 - 12:55 PM

Margo watched the bloodied ball of gauze drop into the trash can on her way out of the SafeSpace. Nurse Louise patted her on the shoulder as she trailed behind her, adding, "Have a good day, Margo. And if you feel any other pains or concussive symptoms, you can always find me around here. Hopefully, I won't be tending to someone else."

"Right," Margo said, and the two of them went their separate ways.

Dryness returned to her throat as she caught sight of her unfamiliar coworkers' perturbed glances. Singular eyebrows raised. Unbroken staring. All angled toward the nearest exit, only a quick jolt away from sprinting out the door. Some even lowered their hands to their Fatemakers, grazing their weapons with their fingertips. Margo turned away, knowing their eyes remained glued to her but fraying away the slightest bit of embarrassment by having them out of her line of sight.

At the far end of the hall, by a vending machine, Holden and Carl sat on a bench.

"Margo!" Ellie declared through her ThoughtControl piece. "Please tell me the nurse isn't giving you a hard time anymore."

"No, she's not," Margo hissed, fingertip nudging her piece into her ear. "You'll be lucky if I still have my job by the end of today."

"Are you really blaming me for losing your job?"

"You told me to beat the shit out of Andrade! And I did!" Margo studied her bruised knuckles. "Alright, correction: I just punched her in the face, but it was still your fault!"

Ellie laughed. "I was just offering input, sweetie. You didn't have to go ahead and take a swing at her face if you didn't want to."

"Well, I did!"

"And what? You still really think it's my fault? A voice screaming into your ear, catching you off-guard? Don't blame me, Margo. Blame your fucked-up reflexes."

Margo took a deep breath, frustration building like smoke. "Just," she hissed, "tell me where you went."

"Well," Ellie said, "once the hall cleared up, I went to grab a sparkling water from the vending machine. Now I'm using the bathroom."

Margo studied the hall. "Which bathroom?" she asked.

"You really want this start off this reunion while I'm on the toilet?"

Margo winced. "Damn it, no," she replied, laughing purely out of discomfort. "Just...let me know when you're out. A colleague needs me."

"Oh, you mean that Carl guy? Yeah, I ran into him by the vending machine. Quiet guy. Kinda creepy, too."

"That probably wasn't...nevermind. I'll explain when you're out."

Margo felt Ellie's presence vanish, and she marched down the hall, her steps smacking loudly against the gleaming floor beneath her. Carl and Holden remained in her sights, neither of them looking or even talking to each other. Their expressions were sullen, grim, as if grieving a recent loss. Margo hoped that wasn't the case, especially considering the likelihood of such an incident in their line of work.

"Margo!" Holden exclaimed, and he leaped from his seat and charged down the hall, nearly tackling his colleague to the floor.

"Hey, Holden," Margo said, patting his head as he kept his arms wrapped around her.

"Glad you made it out alive," Holden said, releasing her. "Something's up with Uncle Carl."

"Yeah, I saw him earlier," Margo said, glancing over Holden's shoulder to see Carl gazing off into the distance. "Is it what I think it is?" she asked.

"Yeah," Holden said, voice lowering. "It's another alter."

The two Psychwatch officers rotated in place, studying Carl's body as it sat up on the bench like an automaton without a purpose. The eyes blinked, and the breaths were careful. A stranger was in control.

"Hey man, what'd you say your name was again?" Holden asked.

The alter blinked their eyes twice before glancing over at Margo, their astonishment blatant. "Oh shit," they said, "so you're the one Carl's been telling us about?"

Margo squinted her eyes, studying the alter's body language. They'd slumped into their seat without a care in the world, far too relaxed considering the day's events. His eyelids drooped as lazily as his shoulders, and his voice matched Carl's regular one aside from a slightly higher yet raspier pitch, as if impaired by sickness. Margo wondered if this alter was either intoxicated or resembled a stereotypical teenager slacker.

"Hello?" the alter said, waving his hand frantically.

"Dude, tell her your name," Holden urged. "And tell her what the other alters said."

The alter extended his hand for Margo to shake. "The name's Loki," he smirked. "Chose the name myself."

"Margo," she replied. "Why hasn't Carl told me about you?"

He shrugged. "Maybe he just kept it to himself and his family," he said.

"I'm his nephew, and he didn't tell me anything about you," Holden said. "But then again, he rarely tells me shit."

Loki turned to Holden. "Nah? What about your mother? She never tell you about us either?"

"I...don't talk to my mom that much either."

Loki nodded his head. "That's fair. Even in high school, Melanie wasn't the easiest of people to deal with. Probably the reason Andrea tried to kill us."

"What are you talking about?" Margo asked. Then something clicked. "Are you one of his dormant alters?"

A look of confusion crossed Loki's face. "Dormant?" he repeated. "Well, it's better than him calling us dead like he used to. So yeah, I guess you could call me and Andr...the other person that."

"Who's Andrea?"

Loki winced. "She's," he spoke carefully, "another dormant one. Although, 'dead' would technically...fit her description more now." He took a small breath. "I really miss her."

"What about Catalina and Vince?" Holden said. "How are they doing?"

"Fine as they can be, man. They were the ones who found me, actually. I helped them find Carl, too. Whatever happened to him caused him to have a horrible dissociative episode."

Damn you, Mason, Margo thought, clenching her fists.

"You alright, miss?" Loki asked.

"How did they find you?" she grumbled.

"Well, I was stuck in a bedroom for a really long time."

Margo and Holden glanced at each other, concerned. "What bedroom?" Margo asked.

"Not a real one, you two," he chuckled. "A made-up one. Part of Carl's inner world. We didn't have too much experience working on one, so most of it included recreations of places from our memories. Not exactly the most pleasant ones, though, so to spice things up, I recreated Carl's first girlfriend's bedroom."

"That sounds kinda fucked up," Holden said.

"How?" Loki laughed.

"Well, I mean, I'm guessing there's a reason you chose some girl's bedroom. How old are you?"

"I'm seventeen."

"No fucking way."

"Yes fucking way! Alters can be all kinds of ages. Don't you know anything about dissociative identity disorder?"

"Both of you, knock it off," Margo snapped. "Loki, stick to the point."

"Sorry, do you have any fucking idea how long it's been since I've been in the light?" Loki said, and he cleared his throat, fiddling around with his fingers. "Anyway, I've been in that replication of that bedroom for I-dunno-how-long, ever since Catalina made Andrea disappear. Zack and Michael, these other two alters who were just kids, were scared as shit, telling me Vince and Catty were coming for us next if we fuck up. So we ran."

"Andrea, Zack, and Michael," Margo repeated. "Carl's never told me about any of those alters."

"Me either," Holden said.

"Right, so anyway," Loki continued, "the door out of the bedroom doesn't actually go anywhere. When you open it up, it's just a pitch-black void, like literally nothing's there. But then, only a couple of days ago, the weirdest shit happened. The walls of the room were rumbling, and the furniture was shaking and shit, and all of a sudden, that void thing crumbled apart like a fucking cave-in or something. And then, bam! There was Catty and Vince standing right there, and I thought I was gonna die. Thought I was gonna get absorbed and disappear like they did to And—er, you-know-who."

"So what happened after they found you?" Margo said.

"They were fucking pissed at first, but they welcomed me back, anyway. Catty asked me to look after Carl again and help her fix the inner world while Vince took control in the meantime. Next thing I know, Carl's fucking fifty years old and working for Psychwatch! I was proud of him, but holy shit, I missed out on a lot."

"Wait," Margo said, leaning against the wall, "when was the last time you'd seen them?"

Loki sat back, still twiddling his fingers. "I'd say Carl was twenty-two years old, most likely? I just remember it was the day you-know-who confessed to trying to kill us all, and Catty didn't take it well. Which lead to...yeah."

"Damn," Holden gasped.

Loki turned to the young officer. "Does he not tell you these things?" he asked.

"Dude, he never even told me you ever existed! Only alters I've known about were Vince and Catalina."

"How are he and his sister doing?"

"My mom hates his guts, not gonna lie. Only times I get to see him are here at work. And even then, he prefers spending time with..." He trailed off as he glanced at Margo, tying her insides into a knot of guilt.

"Oh shit, are you his daughter or something?" Loki said.

"Practically," Holden muttered.

"Holden, I'm sorry," Margo said. "What happened to the talk we had that night?"

"It happened." Holden paused, shoulders drooping and eyes aiming to the floor. "That's all I can really say about it."

"Now I'm confused," Loki said. "You guys step-siblings or something?"

"No, it's just..." Margo sighed, "Carl could admittedly be a little closer to his family."

"Really? When Carl was younger, he got along great with Melanie and Miss Becky. Is he still in touch with them, Holden?"

"With Becky, yeah," Holden said. "But not with my mom."

"Something happen between them?"

Holden remained silent, somber. A mistake had been made, he thought. He didn't know who made it first—his uncle Carl, his mother, Becky, Loki, or even himself—but it happened. It reduced his family to pieces. Brought his mind down into a gutter and split his heart in half.

"Holden?" Loki asked. "Talk to me, man."

"I've gotta go," Holden uttered quickly, and he stormed off.

"What's wrong with you?" Margo snapped at Loki.

The alter shot his hands up. "The last time I took the light was when Carl was in college, lady," he said. "It's not easy being empathetic when you've only had yourself to talk to for years and years."

"Haven't you ever thought that maybe the rest of your system needs you?"

"Carl made it to fifty without me. You know any other people suffering from DID that have made it this far? And like I said, I was scared they were gonna make me disappear."

"Well, you're still here, Loki. So the least you could do is make yourself useful."

He slumped back into his seat once more. "How the hell did you get that bruise on your face?" he said.

"Rabbit Hole," Margo groaned.

"Wait, are you missing a tooth?"

"Rabbit Hole."

"And those new bruises on your fist?"

Margo stretched her fingers out, studying the bright red spots on her knuckles. "That was actually from when I punched my coworker half an hour ago," she said.

"Was he an asshole?" Loki asked.

"She," Margo said. "And yes. Thought it was just Psychwatch being Psychwatch, but looking around, I've noticed these people haven't been doing much 'empathizing' lately. Just shooting and more shooting."

"Have you been doing that, too? Shooting instead of empathizing?"

Margo sat beside the alter.

"Wait, did that question make any sense?" Loki laughed. "Sorry if it didn't."

"No, it did," Margo said. "And no, I can safely say I really can't remember the last time I feel like I've helped someone."

"No? Not even in the Rabbit Hole?"

"Especially not in the Rabbit Hole. Half the people in there were either killed by Psychwatch or dead from the start. And I spent most of it fighting for my own life rather than actually helping anyone out. That's how..." Margo pointed to the wounds on her face.

"Oh," Loki said, taking notice. "That sucks."

"Yeah." Margo paused. "I'm honestly surprised they didn't just leave me there."

"They can't just leave their own officers to die," Loki said, but after receiving a livid glare from Margo, he added, "Or maybe they can, I dunno. I haven't been out in years."

"I don't know either," Margo sighed. "So you say you still talk to Carl, huh? How does he still feel about Psychwatch?"

"Not a damn clue. He's hard to piss off, I'll give him that, but he can still get overwhelmed. He mainly wanders around the inner world while me and Catalina are working on it. Mostly keeps to himself, though. He's been rambling about shadows lately."

Margo raised her brow. "Shadows?" she repeated.

"Yeah, something about giving into the Shadow or something like that. I think I read somewhere it had some psychological association."

Confusion continued to riddle Margo's brain. But she worked through it and recalled, "The Shadow's a Jungian archetype representing the worst parts of a person. Insecurities, weaknesses, even taboo desires. Essentially, the version of ourselves we fear the most."

"Huh." Loki paused. "Well, now that I think about it, he might have also been referring to you, too."

"Very funny," Margo muttered.

"No, I'm actually serious. Whenever he's talking about shadows and stuff, he almost always brings you up, too. Something about your Shadow coming into the light, like you're hiding a darker part of yourself or something." Loki glared at the officer. "Do you think they've diagnosed you with DID, too?"

"No, I just...I don't know. The commissioner told me I was hiding something from myself. Catty wondered the same thing. But I don't know what it could be."

"Maybe it's all that guilt?"

Margo shook her head. "Personally I think I've been making my guilt obvious. But no one around here notices it. In fact, the only one around here who I think even feels it is Carl."

Loki brought his hand up, dangling it before his face to study the blue LED light on the ring. "Yeah," he said. "Guess that's why you and him seem to be the best at your jobs."

"Best at what?" Margo crossed her arms. "Killing people and trapping the rest of the city in a system it doesn't even want to be a part of?"

"No, being relatable to people." He turned to the young doctor-cop beside him. "Looking at you, I can tell you're a nicer lady when you're not being stressed out of your mind or watching people die horribly."

Margo shrugged. "That sums up most people, Loki. It's not that unique."

"You don't think it's unique being the only caring person in a building full of corrupt cops?"

That comment sent Margo shooting back up in her seat with urgency, as if alarms would blaze and blare following the assertion of such blasphemy. Something didn't feel right about the words, she thought. Was Psychwatch merciless? Yes. Cold? Undeniably. But corrupt?

"I already told you it's not unique," she said. "And the place isn't corrupt. Just needs a bit of reforming."

Loki nodded his head. "That's a pleasant way of thinking about it. Even if it's blindly optimistic."

"I'm not being optimistic. I'm just stating the obvious." Margo sighed. "Besides, after today and what I saw down in the Rabbit Hole...no way I'll ever be optimistic ever again."

"Was it that bad?"

Margo felt her bones rattle inside of her as a wave of hellish imagery flooded her head. She refused to speak, aware her trembling voice would've betrayed how incompetent she was amongst the doctor-cops. How she'd need all the saving.

"Fuck, it must've been bad then," Loki said. "I even asked Vince, and he didn't say shit as usual. But I guess it was for the best."

"It was," Margo whispered.

"Well, uh..." Loki patted his new acquaintance on the shoulder. "Hopefully you won't have to do anything like that for a while."

"I know I will," Margo said, head growing lighter. "He's still out there."

"Who?"

"My father. My Shadow."

The masked man is not my father, she thought. What the fuck am I thinking? It's painfully obvious he's not. He told me himself he was lying. Or...maybe he wasn't?

"Wait, what?" Loki chirped, hands gripped around the edge of the seat to launch himself off. Any other weird shit that'd come out of Margo's mouth, and he'd dash off into the sunset.

"I think the man we're hunting might be my Shadow," she said. "The worst parts of me personified."

"Uh, Margo, you lost me. You want me to bring Carl out? Maybe he'll understand better."

"Yeah, sure, bring him out," Margo replied, nodding frantically.

"Alright." Loki looked forward, finally dragged out of his comfort zone.

"It's gotta be him. I mean, who or what else could possibly—"

"Margo!" called a familiar voice out of the device in her ear. "I'm finally out of the bathroom! Where are you?"

Margo leaped from the bench. "Ellie!" she said. "Don't go anywhere. I'll come to you. And you better not fucking move or do anything stupid!"

"Wait, Mar..." Loki said before dissociation rendered him silent, and Carl's body sat upright, statuesque and vacant, awaiting control.

The young doctor-cop didn't know where her legs guided her. All she knew was that the thunderous claps of her shoes against the floor, the sharpness of her breaths as she ran, and meeting Loki were all for a reason. Her sister awaited her. The revelation of her Shadow was in the making. The undoing of the Multi Man was her mission and destiny. And all the wounds, both physical and mental, would mold her coal body into a powerful diamond.

"I can hear you coming!" Ellie giggled.

"Glad to know," Margo wheezed, legs burning and lungs expanding. "Just tell me when you see me."

"Oh shit, you just passed me, honey," Ellie laughed again.

Margo's feet skid across the floor, a cacophonous screech penetrating her ears. She looked back and resumed her run. "You in one of the SafeSpaces?" she said.

"Yep! Safer than ever. Just remember to look to your right?"

"Alright, I'm going. Where are—"

"Found you!"

Margo didn't skid on her feet the final time she'd stopped. The halt was abrupt yet devoid of gravity, silent, as if time itself had paused with her. She stood before her doppelgänger, indistinct from her in every way. Slender cheekbones, pale skin, eyes glistening with a moribund spark, messy brown hair styled in a wavy bob. Yet the doppelgänger was about two inches taller, her hair was longer—softer even—and she was well-endowed. Her posture was straighter, and dark red lipstick coated her lips. Psychwatch was the one place where she was wholly out-of-place.

Yet Margo still felt more like the unwelcome outsider.

"Margo!" Ellie squealed. "It's been too damn long!"

"Yeah, it has," Margo said, trembling still present in her voice.

"But how are you doing?"

Suddenly, Margo couldn't talk, even if her life depended on it.

"Aww, someone's shy," Ellie chuckled. "Don't worry, we've got plenty of time to talk. And plenty of ground to cover! Let's start off with this Psychwatch nonsense you're so obsessed with, shall we?"