A Council of Old Men Who Fear Neat Little Boxes

Rome woke up drowning.

Not in water. In sensation. Every nerve ending in his body screamed at once, like someone had plugged him directly into a live wire and cranked the voltage to maximum. The phantom weight of Amelia's heel pressed against his sternum, so vivid he could feel the sharp point dimpling his skin.

His eyes snapped open.

Not the warehouse. Not covered in purple light or standing over the corpse of a demon he'd consumed like it was a value meal. He was back in the dark room. The metal chair bit into his back. Zip ties cut into his wrists. The single bare bulb swung overhead, casting shadows that danced across walls that smelled like mildew and old concrete.

"Oh good, you're back."

Amelia's voice. Casual. Like she'd been waiting for a kettle to boil.

Rome's head whipped toward the sound. She sat perched on the edge of the metal table where she'd set up all those ritual tools, legs crossed, examining something in her hand with the kind of focus people usually reserved for their phones. The lotus pattern in her eyes had faded back to that warm gray, he could still see the faint purple glow underneath though, like embers waiting to reignite.

She wasn't looking at her phone.

She was eating takoyaki.

Of course she is.

The smell hit him a second later. Octopus and batter and that sweet sauce, completely out of place in this nightmare room. Rome's stomach lurched, caught between hunger and nausea. He couldn't tell which was stronger.

"Jake."

He tried again.

"Did I... Did he make it? Did you find him?"

Please. Please let him be okay. Let this whole thing be some psychotic break. Let Jake be at home right now, passed out on his couch, wondering why Rome wasn't answering his texts.

Amelia popped another takoyaki ball into her mouth. Chewed slowly. Swallowed.

"No."

That single syllable hit harder than any punch. Harder than the Tyrant slamming him into concrete. It didn't explode or shatter. It just sank into his chest and sat there, heavy and cold.

"The cleanup crew found what was left of your friends." She still wasn't looking at him. Just kept examining the takoyaki container like it held the secrets of the universe. "The girl with the camera and the one who led the group were husks. Drained completely. Standard Phantom feeding behavior."

She paused. Picked up another piece.

"Your friend was not so lucky."

Rome's hands clenched. The zip ties cut deeper.

"The Echo that fed on him did it slowly." Her tone didn't change. She could have been reading ingredients off a cereal box. "They prefer to savor their meals. By the time we arrived, there wasn't enough left to send home to his family."

The world tilted.

Jake. Jake who dragged him to that coffee shop because he thought ghost hunting would be fun. Jake who played stupid music in the van to make everyone laugh. Jake who'd known him for three years and never once asked about the weird shit that followed him around like a bad smell.

Gone.

Not just dead. Consumed.

Rome slumped forward as far as the zip ties would allow. His head hung low enough that his chin nearly touched his chest. He waited for tears. For screaming. For the kind of breakdown that felt appropriate when your best friend got eaten by a monster you couldn't save him from.

Nothing came.

Just a hollow, yawning emptiness that swallowed everything else. The kind of silence that lived in abandoned houses and forgotten places. His entire world had burned down, and all he felt was numb.

Amelia set the takoyaki container aside. Reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone.

She didn't dial. Didn't tap the screen. Just held it flat in her palm.

A voice emerged from the speaker. Dry. Old. The kind of sound ancient parchment would make if it could talk. Static crackled around the edges of each word.

"The situation is contained. The civilian witnesses have been dealt with. The subject, Rome Angelo... his origins are unknown. His power signature is an anomaly. The risk is unacceptable. Dispose of him, Beleth."

Oh.

So that's how this ended. Not with the monster in the warehouse. With a phone call from some faceless bureaucrat who'd decided he was too inconvenient to live.

Rome's internal monologue, which had been mercifully silent during the whole 'processing my best friend's death' thing, suddenly woke up with an opinion.

Well this is just fantastic. Survived getting crushed by a demon tank. Survived having my brain hijacked by some hungry purple parasite. Gonna die because some old dude on a phone thinks I'm 'unacceptable risk.' Really nailing the whole 'main character' thing here, Rome.

Amelia rolled her eyes. The gesture was so theatrical Rome half expected her to produce a whole stage production.

"Yes, yes, I understand. 'Unknown equals threat.' The same tired song you fossils have been singing for a century." She waved her free hand like she was shooing away a particularly annoying fly.

The call cut off mid-sentence. The static died.

She looked at the phone. Made a disgusted sound. Tossed it onto the table where it clattered against the ritual supplies.

"The Higher Ups." She practically spat the title. "A council of old men who fear anything they can't control or put in a neat little box. Their official verdict is that you're a loose end that needs to be tied off."

She mimed scissors with her fingers.

"Permanently."

The emptiness in Rome's chest shifted. Made room for something else. Something in between anger and fear that tasted like copper and felt like resignation.

Of course. Of course that's what happened to people like him. People who didn't fit the right categories. Who couldn't explain where they came from or why weird shit followed them around. The system looked at you, decided you were too much trouble, and sent someone to make you disappear.

He'd been disappearing his whole life. At least this time it would be literal.

"Lucky for you..." Amelia pushed herself off the table. Her heels clicked against concrete as she approached. "I find their rules to be terribly boring."

She stopped directly in front of his chair. Close enough that he could smell her perfume underneath the takoyaki. Something floral with sharp edges.

"And besides." That predatory smile crept back across her face. "A certain someone vouched for you. Someone who saw the whole mess go down and decided you were more interesting than you were dangerous."