Henry woke to the familiar sight of his ceiling, but his head felt like it had been split open with an axe. Pain pounded behind his eyes, and his entire body ached.
He groaned, trying to sit up.
"Don't move." Felicity's voice drifted into his ears. Calm, but with an undercurrent of steel.
Henry turned his head slowly and found her sitting in a chair beside his bed, her posture perfect, her hands folded in her lap. Her expression was carefully neutral, but her eyes were watching him with an intensity that made his skin crawl.
And in the corner of the room, standing rigid like a statue, was Emily. She stood there, pressed against the wall as if trying to phase through it. Her arms were crossed tight over her chest, her face pale. Her eyes were red-rimmed, swollen. She looked like she'd been crying, or like she was about to start screaming.
And she was trembling. Actually trembling.
"What..." Henry's voice came out as a croak. He cleared his throat and tried again. "What happened?"
"You don't remember?" Felicity asked, her tone carefully measured.
"I..." Henry tried to think back. The training. Emily challenging him to spar. Her hitting him with the ice hammer. And then... nothing. Just a black void where his memories should be. "No. I remember Emily hitting me, and then... I passed out. But I don't remember anything after that."
The sound of his voice seemed to break a dam inside Emily. She couldn't hold it in anymore.
"What happened?!" she shrieked. It wasn't her usual mocking tone; her voice was cracked, shrill, and entirely unhinged. She pushed herself off the wall, but kept her distance, pacing frantically like a trapped animal. "You nearly killed me! That's what happened!"
Henry's stomach dropped. "What? Emily, no, we were just sparring—"
"Sparring?!" Emily scoffed, her fist clenching in rage. "You were going to stab me in the throat, you psycho!"
"Emily, please calm down," Felicity began.
"NO!" Emily's voice cracked, tears streaming down her face now, her entire body shaking from adrenaline and trauma. "Don't tell me to calm down, mom. You saw what he was going to do. You saw!"
She pointed at Henry with a trembling hand, her finger jabbing accusingly.
"That thing isn't my brother! It isn't even human! It—it was going to—" Her voice broke completely. She wrapped her arms around herself tighter, as if trying to physically hold herself together. "He was going to kill me. I saw his eyes, Mom. He was actually going to kill me.... And he would've if you didn't show up when you did."
Fresh tears carved tracks down her pale cheeks. "I was going to die," Emily whispered, her voice small and broken in a way Henry had never heard before. "If you hadn't come back when you did, I would be dead right now. And you know what the worst part is? I couldn't stop it. I tried everything—every technique you taught me, every strategy—and he still dismantled me like I was nothing. Like I was a training dummy."
She laughed—a horrible, bitter sound that was more sob than laugh. "I've trained my entire life. I've fought C-Rank beasts and won. And that thing wearing my brother's face, defeated me in less than five minutes."
Emily's legs seemed to give out. She slid down the wall until she was sitting on the floor, her knees pulled up to her chest, still crying.
"So don't you DARE sit there and ask what happened like you're the victim here!" Her voice rose again, anger and trauma and fear all tangled together. "You tried to murder me! And now you're just—" She gestured helplessly at him. "You're just sitting there like everything's fine!"
"Emily, that's enough," Felicity said, her voice firm but not harsh.
"No! It's not enough!" Emily looked at her mother desperately. "Mom, you can't let that thing stay in him! You saw what it's capable of! What if it takes over again? What if next time you're not there to stop it? What if it goes after you? Or the workers. Innocent people."
"Emily." Felicity's voice cracked like a whip. "Enough. Please."
Emily's mouth snapped shut, but her eyes were still wild, still terrified.
Felicity stood, moving toward her daughter. "Oh, darling. I get it. You're in shock. But you need rest, not this conversation. So why don't you leave and let mommy handle this."
Emily protested. "But—"
"That wasn't a request." Felicity's tone left no room for argument. "Go to your room. Get some sleep. I'll come check on you in an hour."
Emily looked like she wanted to argue, but whatever she saw in her mother's expression made the words die in her throat. She scrambled to her feet, gave Henry one last look—a mix of terror, anger, and something that might have been betrayal—then fled the room.
The door slammed behind her hard enough to rattle the frame.
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Henry stared at his hands, unable to look at Felicity. His throat felt tight, his chest constricted. Guilt crashed over him in waves.
"I hurt her," he whispered. "I really hurt her."
"Yes," Felicity said simply, returning to her chair. "You did."
"I don't..." Henry's voice broke. "I didn't mean to. I swear, I would never —"
"I know," Felicity interrupted, her voice gentler now. "I know it wasn't you, Henry. I saw what happened. I know you weren't in control."
Henry's hands clenched into fists, his nails digging into his palms. "What's wrong with me?"
Felicity was quiet for a long moment, her expression thoughtful.
"The dissociative state," she said finally. "It's more critical than I anticipated. More autonomous, more... aggressive."
Henry's mind was a mess. He didn't understand what was happening. Wasn't the dissociative state supposed to be a more heroic version of him? It had saved countless lives that day when the beasts attacked. So why was it suddenly... murderous?
"I could've killed her," he murmured softly. "If you hadn't stopped me—"
"But I did." Felicity leaned forward, her gaze intense. "I stopped it. And now we know exactly how dangerous this situation is. I think the dissociative state is a defensive mechanism that protects you at all cost, and eliminates anything it sees as a threat." She sighed. "This could have been a good thing but... the state seems to have total control of your mind and body—taking over and leaving whenever it feels like. This is really bad."
Henry looked up at her, desperation clear in his eyes. "What do we do? How do I stop this from happening again?" He asked.
Felicity's expression shifted, determination settling over her features like a mask. "Tomorrow," she said, "I'm going to take matters into my own hands."
Henry's brow furrowed. "What does that mean?"
"There's a technique," Felicity said slowly, choosing her words carefully. "One I learned long ago. It allows me to enter another person's mind—to navigate their consciousness, their memories, their... fragmented identities."
Henry's breath caught. "You mean... you can go into my head?"
"Yes," Felicity nodded. "And once I'm there, I can find the source of this dissociative state and eliminate it. Permanently."
The word eliminate hung in the air like a death sentence.
"You want to... kill it?" Henry asked quietly.
"I want to remove the threat," Felicity corrected. "This isn't a person, Henry. It's a psychological construct. A defense mechanism that's become dangerous. Removing it will make you whole again. You'll have one consciousness, one identity, and complete control over your own actions."
"Is that even possible?" Henry asked. "Removing it."
"I've done it before," Felicity said. "Years ago, during the war. There were soldiers whose minds broke under the trauma—split into multiple identities, some violent, some catatonic. I helped put them back together. I can try to do the same for you."
Henry was quiet, processing this. It sounded perfect. It was exactly what he needed to stop being a danger to everyone around him.
So why did it feel so wrong?
"Okay," he said quietly. But the way he said it made it clear he wasn't fully convinced.
Felicity noticed immediately. Her expression softened slightly.
"Henry, I need you to understand something. When I enter your mind, I'll have access to everything. Your memories, your thoughts, your fears." She leaned forward, placing a gentle hand over his. "But I promise you—if you don't want me looking at your private memories, I won't. I'll go directly to the dissociative identity and nowhere else. Your privacy will be respected."
"It's not that," Henry said, his voice barely above a whisper.
Felicity tilted her head. "Then what is it?"
Henry looked down at their joined hands. "It just feels... wrong. To kill something that's part of me."
Felicity's expression shifted. She sighed. "Henry..."
"I know it's dangerous," Henry continued quickly, the words spilling out now. "I know what it did to Emily. I know it's a threat. I know all of that. But..." He looked up at her, his eyes pleading. "It also saved lives. It saved MY life. Multiple times. When I couldn't protect myself, it stepped in. It kept me alive."
He swallowed hard. "Isn't there another way? Some way to... I don't know, communicate with it? Understand it? Control it instead of destroying it?"
Felicity studied him for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then she smiled—a sad, bittersweet expression.
"You have such a good heart," she said softly, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from his forehead. "Even after everything it's done… after it nearly killed your sister, you still want to show it mercy."
"I just..." Henry struggled to articulate the feeling. "I don't want to kill something without at least trying to understand it first. It's a part of me, even if it's dangerous. Doesn't that mean something?"
Felicity's expression hardened slightly, though her voice remained gentle. "Henry, I understand your compassion. I do. But you need to understand something." Her grip on his hand tightened. "That thing didn't just take control. It tried to murder Emily. With a weapon. Aimed at her throat. If I had been even a second late, your sister would be dead."
She leaned closer, her eyes intense.
"There is no negotiating with it. No understanding it. No controlling it. It declared war the moment it tried to kill a member of this family." Her voice became firm. "It has to be removed. For your safety, for Emily's safety, for everyone's safety. There is no other option."
Henry was insistent. "But—"
"This isn't a negotiation, Henry." Felicity's tone left no room for argument. "I'm not asking for your permission. I'm telling you what's going to happen. Tomorrow, I'm going into your mind, and I'm removing this threat."
Henry wanted to argue, wanted to push back, but the absolute conviction in Felicity's eyes stopped him.
She stood, clearly ending the conversation.
"The process will be quick," she assured him, her voice softening slightly. "You'll barely feel it. I'll put you into a deep slumber, enter your consciousness, find the dissociative identity, and remove it. When you wake up, it'll be over. You'll be free—no more blackouts, no more lost time, no more fear. Just you. Whole and in control."
She walked toward the door, her posture straight, her decision made.
"Mom," Henry called out.
Felicity paused, her hand on the doorframe, but didn't turn around.
"Please... just be careful." Henry said to her.
Felicity's shoulders relaxed slightly. "I will. I promise."
And then she was gone, the door closing with a soft click that sounded far too final.
Henry lay back down, staring at the ceiling, his mind spinning. Tomorrow, Felicity would enter his mind and try to destroy the other consciousness.
The thing that had saved his life. The thing that had nearly killed his sister. The thing that was, somehow, a part of him.
Is this right? he wondered. Is this the only way?
But he was too exhausted to think anymore. His body ached, his head pounded, and the weight of everything that had happened pressed down on him like a physical force.
Henry closed his eyes and let darkness take him.
And in the shadows of his mind, the other presence stirred—fully aware now, fully conscious, having heard every word of the conversation.
And it was ready to act.