[ Location: Hawkins National Laboratory - Lobby ]
The silence in the lobby was heavy, broken only by the flickering of a dying fluorescent light and Bob Newby's erratic, wheezing breathing.
"What..." Bob stammered, staring at the wall where the Demodog was currently functioning as modern art (painted in blue slime). "What was that? Who was that? He had pink hair. Why did he punch the monster?"
"That," I said, leaning against the reception desk to stop my knees from buckling, "was a Demogorgan in the human form. A very angry, punching Demogorgan."
I wiped the blood from my nose. My mana was critically low. My head felt like it had been stuffed with cotton wool and broken glass.
'Seriously? I survive a Transformer, a Troll, and a literal Hive Mind, and I almost get taken out because of fucking Sukuna?'
Suddenly, the security doors burst open.
Chief Hopper stormed in, assault rifle raised, looking like Rambo on a budget. Joyce was right behind him, followed by Mike, and a sedative-drugged Will on a stretcher. Dr. Owens trailed behind them, looking pale, sweaty, and useless.
They stopped.
They looked at the carnage.
The Demodog that Yuji had hit with Divergent Fist wasn't just dead. It was liquid. The other two were crumpled heaps of bone and gristle.
"Holy..." Hopper lowered his gun. He looked at me. He looked at Bob. "Did you do this?"
"I supervised," I wheezed.
"Bob!" Joyce screamed, running over to hug him. "You're alive! The power... you did it!"
Bob hugged her back, looking shell-shocked. He looked at me over Joyce's shoulder. "I... I think Vivan saved me. He... pushed me. With his mind. Do I have powers now, Joyce??"
"We'll buy you a cape later, Bob," I muttered.
Hopper turned his gaze to me. It wasn't friendly. It was the look of a man who realized he knew absolutely nothing about what was going on.
"Kid," Hopper grunted. "Start talking. Fast."
"We need to go," I said, pushing off the desk and ignoring him. "More are coming. And this place is a tomb designed by idiots."
I glared at Dr. Owens.
"Move! To the convoy!"
[ Location: Parking Lot ]
We burst out of the shattered front doors.
Steve, Dustin, Lucas, and Max were waiting by the idling BMW and the other cars. They had weapons raised—Steve with his bat, Lucas with his slingshot.
"Vivan!" Max yelled, jumping out of the car. She ran over, checking me for bite marks. "You're covered in blue slime. It's in your hair."
"It's not mine," I assured her, leaning on her slightly. "And it conditions the curls. Don't worry about it."
"Where are the dogs?" Steve asked, looking at the dark lab behind us.
"Dead," I said. "A... friend... handled it."
"A friend?" Dustin asked. "Who? The X-Men?"
"Something like that."
"Everyone in the cars!" Hopper commanded. "Byers' house! Go!"
I grabbed Steve's arm before he could get in the driver's seat.
"Steve," I said seriously. "You're driving the bus. Or the station wagon. Whatever holds the most kids."
"Why?"
"Because I'm riding with Hopper and Will. I need to keep an eye on the Spy."
"The Spy?" Max asked, shivering.
"Will," I whispered. "He's not Will right now. He's a walkie-talkie for the Mind Flayer. If he knows where we are, the army comes."
Max looked at Will, who was staring blankly at the sky from the stretcher. "That's... creepy."
"Yeah," I nodded. "Welcome to Hawkins."
[ Location: The Byers' Residence ]
We barricaded the house. Blankets over the windows. Lights dimmed.
The mood was grim.
Hopper was pacing. Joyce was holding Will's hand. Bob was sitting in the corner, trying to process the existence of telekinesis and demons while holding a bag of frozen peas to his head (from where I blasted him).
Dr. Owens (who had somehow tagged along because his ride was eaten) was checking Will's vitals.
"He's stable," Owens said, adjusting his glasses. "But the virus... it's spreading. We need to get him to a secure facility—"
"A secure facility?" I interrupted, walking in from the kitchen with a cold slice of pizza. "Like the one we just left? The one where everyone died?"
Everyone looked at me.
"Okay, kid," Hopper stepped forward, towering over me. "Talk. What the hell happened in that lobby? Bob said a 'boy in a hoodie' punched a monster into paste and then vanished."
"That was another Demogorgan" I lied effortlessly. "Foreign Species of it. On steroids. Very shy."
"You're lying," Hopper growled.
"Does it matter?" I asked, taking a bite of pizza. "We're alive."
I turned my gaze to Dr. Owens.
"And you," I pointed a crust at him. "You're supposed to be the smart one? The scientist? You run a top-secret government lab containing an interdimensional portal, and your security system is 'lock the doors'?"
Owens blinked. "We have protocols—"
"You have vents!" I shouted. "Human-sized vents! Did you hire the architect from the Death Star? Because that is a thermal exhaust port level of stupidity! 'Oh, let's build an impenetrable fortress but leave giant tunnels for the monsters to crawl through!' Genius. Absolute genius. My tax dollars at work."
Owens opened his mouth, then closed it. He looked small.
"And Bob," I turned to Bob Newby.
Bob flinched. "Ye-yes?"
"I love you, man. You're great. You solved the map. But when you reset the breakers, you stopped. You smiled. You patted yourself on the back."
Bob looked down, ashamed. "I just... I was relieved. It worked."
"You were a target," I said coldly. "This isn't a movie, Bob. The music doesn't swell when you win. The monster just eats you while you're grinning. Survival Rule is Run first, celebrate later. If I hadn't Yeeted you across the lobby, you'd be dog chow right now."
"Yeeted?" Bob asked.
"Future slang. It means I saved your life."
"He's right," Hopper grunted. "Kid's an ass, but he's right."
"So what do we do now?" Joyce asked, her voice trembling. "Will... he knows. He knows everything."
"We have to interrogate him," Mike said, stepping up. "But we have to make sure He doesn't know where we are."
"Blindfold him?" Lucas suggested.
"Not enough," I said. "I think he can feel the location. The temperature. The smell. He's connected to the Hive Mind."
"We need a place that doesn't feel like here," Dustin said. "Somewhere neutral."
"The shed," Hopper said. "We clear it out. We cover the walls. Make it unrecognizable."
"And we need to wake him up," I added. "Really wake him up."
"How?" Joyce asked.
"He likes it cold," I said, remembering the Mind Flayer's aversion to heat. "So we make it hot. We burn the virus out."
"That could kill him!" Owens protested. "His core temperature—"
"Leaving him like this will kill him," I countered. "He's a host. To save the host, you have to make the environment uninhabitable for the parasite. We cook him."
I looked at the group.
"We turn the shed into a sauna," I ordered. "Get the heaters. Get the lamps. We're going to sweat the devil out of him."
[ System Notice: Quest Generated. ][ Quest: The Interrogation. ][ Objective: Break the Mind Flayer's hold on Will Byers. ][ Reward: 200 Points. ]
I walked over to the Chat interface while they scrambled to gather supplies.
Vivan Frostwell: Yo guys.
Ryomen Sukuna: (Online) YOU.
Vivan Frostwell: Hi, Sukuna. Thanks for the save. Yuji hits like a truck. Also, nice tattoos. Very tribal.
Ryomen Sukuna: When I find a way to cross over permanently, I will peel you like an orange. I will use your spine as a toothpick.
Vivan Frostwell: Noted. Add it to the calendar.
Shikamaru Nara: Can we please stop summoning apocalyptic disaters? My heart can't take it. I just want to sleep.
Vivan Frostwell: No promises, Shika.
I closed the chat.
Hopper was carrying Will out the back door. The shed was ready.
'Time to see if Will is still in there. Which he is!'
I followed them out into the cold November night.
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