Get out? Get in? Um I’m not exactly sure what’s happening.

“I don’t know where Sylvi’s room is—do you?” I asked, still jogging down the hallway.

Gideon didn’t answer.

I sighed. “Of course you do.”

He cut ahead, leading us through the dim corridor lined with heavy, gilded doors until he stopped at one in particular.

I knocked. “Sylvi? You in there?”

No answer.

“Shit. Move-vate.”

Gideon stepped aside without question. I backed up a few paces, braced, and launched forward—boots slamming into the metal. The lock shrieked in protest before bending to my will, the door bursting inward.

Sylvi froze mid-change, shirt halfway over her head, hair tousled, bare shoulders catching the light.

Her muffled voice came from inside the fabric: “What the hell—?!”

“Oh—uh—” I spun around so fast I almost tripped, staring hard at the ceiling. Beside me, Gideon did the same, though he had the decency to cough and look at the wall.

“Do you two mind?” she snapped, yanking the shirt down the rest of the way.

“You could’ve just at least responded when we knocked.”

“We’ll explain, we’ll explain just finish dressing,” I said quickly, closing the room door. 

Before we could, the muffled thump of approaching footsteps echoed in the hallway. Two shadows stretched across the strip of light under her door.

“Sylvaine? Are you in there? This is room service.”

The three of us ducked behind her bed. She glanced at us, mouthing, Do I respond?

We all nodded like idiots.

“Uh… yes! Is something the matter?”

The voices outside murmured to each other, too soft to catch.

“Could you please usher yourself to the dining room as soon as possible?”

Sylvi looked at us again, mouthing, Is this a good thing?

Gideon and I shook our heads violently. NO.

She bit her lip, eyes flicking to the door again.

We started making frantic hand gestures.

“Uh—what?” she said, confused.

We both mouthed, Don’t say what!

“I’ll repeat it again,” the maid outside said patiently. “Can you come out and make your way to the dining room?”

“Yeah, one second! I’m changing!”

“Perfect,” the maid replied. Their footsteps faded.

I exhaled hard. “Wadafak do we do now?!”

“Sylvi goes first,” Gideon said, still facing the wall like it might shield him from any more awkwardness. “If they catch you, we’ll get you out.”

She shot him a glare, but finished tugging her shirt down—just enough for me to notice she’d thrown it on inside-out. I wisely kept my mouth shut.

She crept toward the door.

We gave her a thumbs-up that I’m pretty sure looked more like good luck than you’ve got this.

She sighed, cracked the door open, and slipped out.

Only seconds passed before it opened again.

“I think it’s clear,” she whispered.

We started to rise—

“Sylvaine! Looks like you’re dressed!” a voice called.

Her head snapped to the right, and she immediately pulled the door shut between us.

“Yes? Yes! I am indeed dressed,” she stammered.

“I thought it would be best if we waited for you to get ready so we can accompany you to the dining hall.”

“Uh—let’s!” she said, her tone breaking into a forced brightness.

The footsteps receded, taking Sylvi with them.

“...Fuck,” I muttered.

For a few seconds, Gideon didn’t move. Then, suddenly, he pushed off the wall and headed for the door like he had a personal vendetta against it.

“Don’t go after her!” I whisper-shouted.

He half-turned, annoyance written all over his face. “And do what? If what you say is true, then she’s going to die out there.”

I pushed myself up from the floor and let out a slow, frustrated sigh. My eyes swept over the room—unmade bed, clothes thrown everywhere, the hoodie I’d given Sylvaine hanging limp from the bedpost.

“It’s best we go after her now, while there’s only two maids with her.”

I shook my head. “There’s an opportunity for extreme escalation. And they understand our cage better than we do—they can counter us without even trying.”

That shut him up. He started pacing, back and forth, back and forth, until the carpet seemed in danger of wearing out. We threw ideas back and forth—fake arguments, diversionary noise, breaking the lights—but each fell apart before it even sounded good.

My eyes wandered back to the hoodie, its strings dangling like a smirk. Then to the lazy sway of the window curtain in the draft.

I exhaled. “I can’t believe I’m doing this again.”

“Doing what?”

Without answering, I strode over, grabbed the hoodie, and shoved it on backwards.

“Hey, isn’t that Sylvaine’s hood—?”

“Silence,” I said, already shifting my posture, voice dropping as I eased into a role I knew far too well.

The shower curtain came down with a metallic squeak, and I wound it around my neck like a scarf. Hood over my head, drawstrings pulled tight from the back to hide the rear of my skull.

That’s when it clicked for him. “You’re—You’re Exidus?!”

“The truth you seek often isn’t the truth that satisfies,” I said, voice low and edged with menace.

He instinctively raised his fists.

“Woah, woah, chillax,” I said, hands raised in mock surrender.

“The answer to your question is yes… but also no.”

I gave him the rundown—how I’d covered my face and acted like Exidus to scare him and his goons away from Sylvi.

“Wait, wait, wait,” he cut in. “What was that bang sound from the second floor?”

“I used Edward’s gear to make that sound.”

“How the hell did you jump from the second floor and land unscathed?”

“Well, I kinda went with the flow hopping off the railing. The floor was already weak—it caved in and cushioned my fall. I still wiped out, but I got up before anyone noticed.”

“The knife throw?”

“Oh, that was a complete accident. Didn’t even look.”

“And the faulty gun? The gun you made me try to kill Sylvaine with?!”

“Yeah, that was a prop gun. Totally fake.”

He put one hand on his head, the other on his hip, staring at me like I’d just confessed to eating his entire family.

I made jazz hands. “Tada!”

“You’re not the actual Exidus, but you’re acting like him so people won’t mess with you.”

“Correctamundo!” I said brightly.

“We don’t have time for games. We need to get out of here—with Sylvaine.” His voice cracked slightly on her name.

“I got this,” I said, breezing past him toward the door.

“What the hell are you going to do? Scare them to death?” he shot back.

The door gave a long, slow creak as I opened it. I turned to him, lowering my hood just enough for him to see my grin.

“Close, but not quite. I thought it was obvious—I mean, it worked on you, remember?” I teased.

He looked away.

“I’ll do what I do best.” Hood back up, drawstrings tight, I stepped into the hallway.

The door closed behind me, but I caught Gideon’s eyes one last time through the narrowing gap.

“I’ll put on a show, of course.”