《Tear Anew》 Glass House

Prologue

¡®Glass House¡¯ June 1st, 2005 Undisclosed Location - Subject 18. Otnessrae Callebaut. Her body was bound to the operating table, her chest gradually rising and falling as her unconscious mind kept her vitals going. The operating theatre was alive with conversation, yet no tool was raised to the patient. They¡¯d been told to stop, without any explanation as to why. This wasn¡¯t an operation you simply¡­ halted. It was months worth of preparation, dedication, underhanded dealings and morally ambiguous discussions. The room was divided; ignore the order or obey it? It was a subtle reminder that you shouldn¡¯t demand loyalty of men who had none of it for anyone or anything but the scientific pursuit. Knowledge is a dangerous drug for any academic. ¡°Who cares what the Trifect Commission thinks? They have no right to forsake our planning.¡± One sneered, venom laced in his aggressive tone. ¡°I agree, we cannot let them bully us any longer.-How- How many bloody times have they stopped us? Five, no, eight times now?¡± This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. ¡°I believe it was actually ten.¡± There was a general murmur of agreement within the room. Then¡­ silence. Save for the single set of footsteps sauntering towards a syringe on a nearby table. ¡°Let us continue we canno-¡± A slam on the wall put a stop to any lingering dissent, the Lead Scientist glaring at his cohort. He was an imposing man who easily commanded respect, or fear. He made his lack of equal treatment no secret, his favour laid with those who performed the best. ¡°Whether you like it or not, if we turn our backs on them, we can no longer continue our work. You of all people should know this the best, Dawson.¡± ¡°Creed, are you not as desperate as we are?¡± Dr. Dawson slowed to a stop, a single hand threatening to pick up a vial, filled with a greyish liquid. ¡°We¡¯ve had 15 failed attempts, and the other two subjects did not receive exactly the expected outcome. Subject 18 is the most compatible¡­ Project. All the testing says so. This is your breakthrough, sir.¡± ¡°I am desperate, but I¡¯m not idiotic. Everything has been meticulously planned to perf-¡± ¡°Creed, you are the lead scientist. The head of this research team- you are the brains of this entire operation. You need to realise that you are miles more important than the men who order you around.¡± It was an appeal to his importance. Dr. Creed knew this all too well, yet he hated how well it worked. How much sense his worst, most underperforming employee was making. All eyes were locked on to him, eagerly waiting for a response for the room to collectively judge. ¡°I will¡­¡± Creed trailed off. ¡°I will give them 10 minutes to respond.¡± And so the room waited, unaware of an extra spectator, hearing every excruciating word. Time ticked by, minute by minute the excited electricity of the room picked up. Mumbles and whispers grew in sound until it reached the crescendo of eager conversation. Glass dragged along steel as Dawson walked up to his boss, hand outstretched. ¡°It is time, is it not?¡± Dr. Creed took the vial, latching the needle on. ¡°Time passes far too fast for us to delay.¡± He approached the subject, positioning the needle where it was set to go. Everyone approached the table, various instruments in their hand, preparing for the very worst. There was a chance of brain death, paralysis, so on and so forth. But this eclectic group of scientists would do anything to save a subject. But how did the subject feel? In her semi-conscious state, she tried to move, to fight back. There must be a reason that the Trifect Commission wanted to delay this operation despite all the resources poured into it. But her muscles would not move, her eyes would not open. All she could feel was the cool of the needle rupturing her skin, sinking into her tissues. A foreign serum pushed its way into her bloodstream, its potency enough to get that instant hit, as if a truck had slammed into her body. An instantaneous, searing pain, as if she were burning alive. And then¡­. Nothing. ¡­ A long, calm, quiet. And a single, lingering question: ¡­How much was she going to pay for turning herself into the perfect weapon? Shackles

Chapter 1

¡®Shackles¡¯ October 28th, 2020 24 Algrave Square, Pent Central Police Headquarters - Two men stood over the sleeping form of their co-worker, her body draped over the couch. ¡°How many times do you think we¡¯re going to need to do this?¡± Corben scratched his ginger goatee, looking towards his counterpart with a musing stare. ¡°As many times as it takes for us to get her off our shoulders and on to someone else¡¯s.¡± Rolling his eyes, Omar looked down at the infamous Tassen Eitri. She¡¯d probably been drinking, again. Whether it was the way she could do something like this so boldly, or just the bags beneath her eyes. She wasn¡¯t exactly one to handle her problems well, nor did she do a very good job of hiding it. By some miracle, she just barely clung on to her job. Both of them knew it was in part, due to nepotism. Though she had just enough of a knack for the job and a strangely prolific dedication to some of her cases to slip by Internal Affairs undetected. A miracle in its own right really. But that¡¯s not to say her cranky behaviour had gone unchecked by HR, or the Departments she was often shifted into. Eitri was ¡®Pent¡¯s PR Nightmare¡¯, as she was so¡­ affectionately called. And after being handed around the Pent Central Police¡¯s departments, it was Omar and Corben¡¯s turn to babysit the resident deadbeat, much to their chagrin. They¡¯d heard many a story about her lashing out, being aggressive- everything you¡¯d expect from a middle-aged office worker struggling through their whirlwind of a midlife crisis. ¡°Just stop delaying it already.¡± Corben muttered, giving Omar a firm elbow in the side, coupled with a timely eye roll. Neither were happy about this, but ultimately it was Omar¡¯s turn to do it. After much deliberation, begrudgingly, he reached out, shaking her shoulder gently. ¡°Eitri, we were given a case.¡± A drawn out groan met his plea, so he shook her again, a little more aggressively. ¡°Eitri!¡± Her name was like sandpaper on his tongue, and seemingly she was no happier about being shouted at than he was doing it. The woman¡¯s hand swatted him away, her head turning to meet Omar¡¯s glare with one of her own. ¡°What.¡± It wasn¡¯t a question, but more or less a demand. ¡°If you-,¡± Omar pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a shaky breath. He had to be calm about this, collected. The bigger person. ¡°Well, as I said, we were given a case.¡± Eitri¡¯s already sullen face dropped further. ¡°Was I not on a case already? I don¡¯t recall working with you on it.¡± ¡°No, you¡¯ve been taken off that one, welcome to our corner of Pent Central.¡± Eitri narrowed her eyes, pulling her body up from the couch with a weary stumble in her step. The brunette looked even worse now that there was a better view of her full body; her short-ish hair was a knotty mess, awkwardly tied into a low ponytail, along with the dark rings under her eyes. It all told the story of someone who had long since given up on outward appearances, along with just about everything else. ¡°What¡­ W-What department are you a part of? She mumbled out, fixing up her crooked black tie to little success. ¡°Pent Homeland Police, we¡¯re the ones that get sent around the country to solve the high profile cases.¡± ¡°The ones with the best paycheck, which means you can get away with a few more drinks than usual.¡± Corben splayed a hand, adding to his friend¡¯s description with a dramatic flare. The response was quick, an aggressive slap on the back from Omar. But Eitri? It was hard to not feel the icy glower from the fatigued drunk, the way her eyebrows knotted and her jittery hands curled into a fist. She didn¡¯t say anything, her angry expression alone spoke a thousand words by itself. ¡°You¡¯ll have to forgive this idiot, he¡¯s notoriously bad with women.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not that ba-¡± Another clap on the back. ¡°-O-Ok, maybe I¡¯m not the best! My bad! Christ.¡± The ginger eked out, defensively raising his hands in front of him. ¡°...Let¡¯s just get this over with.¡± Omar and Corben exchanged weary glances, watching as Eitri brushed past them both, uncaring of anything but the task ahead, not even the obligatory introduction. The typical placations of the human mind were seemingly not of interest to her.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. And hell, for the better. It was an unspoken agreement, neither of them were going to make any strides to familiarise themselves with a woman who did nothing but build up her walls. Why should they? It was needless energy into someone who seemed to do nothing but wallow in her own sea of problems. Omar was the first to turn on his heel, trailing after Eitri, Corben following in his wake. At the very least, she knew where they were going. The Superintendent¡¯s office. It was a 1 minute affair, Eitri keeping a good distance between herself and the duo behind her. At the very least, the small mishap from before hadn¡¯t bubbled up into anything more than quiet brooding on her part. A few sterile hallways later, they arrived. A singular wooden door, and the many portraits of former Superintendents mounted to the wall next to it. A weirdly intimidating affair, only enhanced by the strange mystique that hung around their enigmatic boss. Only five years ago he¡¯d simply come out the blue and was... Hastily given his current role. It was during the heat of the Trifect Commission¡¯s collapse and the butt end of Pent¡¯s own bloody coup. His largely unknown track record had turned him into a point of controversy. But ultimately, it was a short-lived debate. There was a method to his madness which very few others could see, but everyone had grown to respect. Robin Deskin was a terrifyingly efficient man. Omar was the first to step up to the door, giving it a short knock. ¡°We¡¯re here, Superintendent.¡± ¡°Come in!¡± He twisted the doorknob in response, letting himself in. ¡°Pleasure to see you three.¡± ¡°Good to see yah too, Deskin.¡± Corben was the first to speak, offering his boss a wave, whereas Omar offered a polite nod. The duo made their way to the two cream chairs that had been situated in front of Robin¡¯s desk. His office felt like a peek into the past, the ornate wooden cornice and baseboards, the red silk curtains. It all spoke of a history that had all but been wiped away from every other corner of the building. ¡°Tassen, there¡¯s a chair back there if you want to pull it up.¡± The duo turned back to their plus one. Somehow, she looked even more agitated than she had before, her frown pulling into a discontented sneer. Despite her show of annoyance, Eitri complied, pulling up her own chair and making herself comfortable. The icy atmosphere gave way to something more serious, Robin¡¯s good natured smile wiping away as he pulled out a file. Faded old documents were peppered in with fresher leafs, a danger sign in its own right. A quiet warning of the rabbit hole of past and present to come. ¡°Over in the North, close to the Cheshirian border, there¡¯s been a string of murders. Ultimately nothing of concern, until you look at the file.¡± He slotted a finger under the string latch of the file, pulling it open to reveal a single name in bold letters: ¡®Galbraith Moikov¡¯ Omar and Corben exchanged confused glances, leaving Eitri to pick up the file, scanning over the details. ¡°I can¡¯t say I.. know this name.¡± Eitri turned to Corben, raising a brow. ¡°Were we meant to know?¡± ¡°No, no but- Usually we see these sorts of cases in the news before they cross over our desk. That¡¯s besides the point though, what¡¯s so concerning about it? Not to sound cold or anything like that but- it¡¯s the robberies and organized crimes we handle, homicides are far from our typical foray.¡± Robin¡¯s fingers thrummed against the table, expression grim. ¡°In all honesty, it¡¯s a combination of two reasons- One, the growing unrest up there and then two, the fact they¡¯ve been haemorrhaging men and I- Well I don¡¯t think I need to explain why.¡± Everything looped back to politics, one way or another, to the excitement of no-one. Ultimately it was hard to avoid when it was such a big part of everyone¡¯s lives, everything was in recovery after the coup, everyone was talking about the changes. ¡°So we¡¯re just.. Filling in?¡± ¡°If you want to put it that way, yes.¡± ¡°I mean, we¡¯ll take it but- I don¡¯t think me or Omar can guarantee efficiency.¡± ¡°That¡¯s where she comes in.¡± The blonde jutted a finger towards Eitri, her eyes scanning the finer details of the file in her hands. She paid no mind that the conversation had shifted to her, hell, it was hard to tell if she¡¯d even noticed. ¡°Her expertise falls in homicide, believe it or not.¡± Eitri lowered the file, her eyes locking on to Robin¡¯s. ¡°I was already on a case beforehand.¡± ¡°I thought your skill set would be better off with this case,¡± ¡°And?¡± ¡°What do you mean ¡®and¡¯?¡± ¡°You¡¯re not one to take me off mid-case without a good reason, Robin.¡± The back and forth gave no room to interject. It was a weird tension that only grew with their bosses¡¯ thoughtful silence. ¡°Well¡­ I just thought you¡¯d find it interesting. You¡¯re a predictable woman after all.¡± Eitri¡¯s eyes narrowed by a modicum, but surprisingly she lacked any harsh comeback, only a semi-contented grunt coupled with a small nod. Seemingly even Eitri had a semblance of a survival instinct in front of people who could fire her. ¡°Anyways, I¡¯ll be shipping you out in five or so days, the detectives there are just organising the paperwork for your arrival. Other than that, I¡¯ll make sure to keep you updated. On that, you¡¯re free to go.¡± Eitri was quick to get up, excusing herself from the room in somewhat of a hurry. The room was left with only Robin, Corben, Omar and the case ahead of them. ¡°Did you two have any questions?¡± Corben¡¯s fingers interlaced with each other, his expression grim. Omar could only tap his foot against the floor, trying to find the right way to ask the question the two of them were stuck with. ¡°I uh, do. I do have one.¡± Why this bitch? How is she still on the force? Can she get reassigned? ¡°Me and Corben have always worked better as a duo, why not just assign an aide rather than a whole other detective?¡± It was the politest way to word it. ¡°Well, like I said, she''s experienced in homicide. You guys are not.¡± ¡°That-¡± Omar sighed, thumbing the palm of his hand as he fumbled to find the right way to get across that Eitri wasn¡¯t exactly the type of person they wanted to work with. ¡°Lemme take it from here, Omar.¡± Corben leaned forward, brows furrowed. ¡°We¡¯re not gonna work with Eitri if we¡¯re just gonna have a repeat of today. We had to wake her up from her hungover stupor on the couch- We- We have a standard to uphold, Sir. I¡¯m not doubting your decisio-¡± ¡°You are doubting it, otherwise why would you be contesting it?¡± Corben cringed, running a hand through his ruffled hair. ¡°Just- Not to toot our own horn here but we¡¯re a few leagues above her, for lack of a better way to put it. She¡¯s a homicide detective, we¡¯re¡­ well.¡± ¡°You¡¯re..?¡± ¡°We¡¯re in the most.. Prestigious department, or however you want to put it. Our work is valued, we wouldn¡¯t want to¡­ Devalue it.¡± ¡°And she won¡¯t, you have my word.¡± ¡°Politely, your word isn¡¯t quite enough.¡± ¡°What do you want out of this conversation?¡± ¡°For her to- Not work with us, preferably.¡± ¡°For her to be discharged too?¡± ¡°Ye- Wait- I-¡± ¡°Forgive me, your uhm, complaints forms. Your style of writing isn¡¯t exactly¡­ common. But, that aside, this will be her last case.¡± Robin furrowed his brows a moment, lowering his head. ¡°Well, could be.¡± Corben raised a brow. ¡°Could¡­ be?¡± The ginger erred out, leaning forward. ¡°Her complaints have been catching up to her, she¡¯s been given a final chance.¡± Well, on one hand. Great! It was about bloody time she got her comeuppance. ¡°D-Does she even know?¡± ¡°Yes. She¡¯s aware.¡± ¡°She doesn¡¯t seem¡­ awfully affected.¡± Robin pulled himself up off his chair with a hefty sigh, heading over to a filing cabinet. There was a strange tension in the way he spoke, hell, a concern most of all. ¡°Tas- No, Eitri. She just.. Isn¡¯t that sort of person.¡± The room fell silent again. ¡°...I ask you this in the interest of yourself, Robin.¡± Omar brought in a strange.. Tonal shift. Something a bit more tense, hell, even personal. He continued to speak, choosing each word incredibly carefully. ¡°What- What¡¯s the main thing¡­ holding her back?¡± The Superintendent shifted on his foot, his hands held stiffly behind his back. ¡°She just¡­¡± He paused, his grip tightening as he peered back at the two men still remaining in the room. ¡°Eitri needs to learn to accept her situation and just- move forward.¡± ¡­ Robin chuckled wryly. ¡°She¡¯s been living in the past long enough.¡± Point A

Chapter 2

¡®Point A¡¯ November 2nd, 2020 The Clove, Pent Central Airport - Eitri hated airports. Like many things, there was a bad memory tied to it. There always was, always. It was an inescapable black hole, with every new space just waiting to ruin her day even more. Everyone told her, ¡®move on.¡¯ How was she meant to? Avoiding everything that made the shitshow that was her before she came here was near impossible. Every small detail was a reminder, every television show and radio station threatened to bring them up. ¡­What a joke. ¡°Excuse me, do you need a hand?¡± An airport employee had since walked up to her, presumably from the helpdesk only a stone¡¯s throw away. ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡± It came out as a strained grumble, coupled with a scathing glare. Whether she wanted it or not, the man gave a polite nod before hurriedly retreating. Her expression was caught in a perpetual state of neutrality, only shifting to different kinds of anger. It was a product of her own failures, a mix of medication to set her own issues at bay entangled with Life¡¯s insistence on keeping her mind lingering on every failure that¡¯d led up to this very point. Her, probably, final case. Robin said she¡¯d been improving. But not fast enough it seems. How was she even meant to show she was worthy, despite everything? She wasn¡¯t about to deny she¡¯d been a horrible person throughout her time at Pent¡¯s Police Department. Her employment was only thanks to pity, and her recovery was only stipulated by how much effort she could throw into a case before her body started to deteriorate. Something needed to change- anything needed to change. But she didn¡¯t know how. Nervously, she fumbled into a jacket pocket, pulling out a small container of pills and spinning it open. A jumble of white, pills stared back at her and with a trained hand, she pulled one out, swallowing it dry. It was disgusting, but it kept her mood in check. Sighing, she closed the pill bottle, sliding it back into her pocket- And just in time too. ¡°Eitri, you¡¯re early.¡± Her eyes snapped to the voice that had addressed her. The annoyingly familiar dreaded hair, pulled into a ponytail, his sepia skin addled with moles all along the side of his face. His familiar peer, Corben, tagging along next to him, running a hand through his ginger hair- as if it¡¯d do anything to fix his mess of hair. A part of him seemed to know this too, his pale, freckled face pulling into disappointment. Seemingly he was struggling more with the early wake up than her and Omar were. ¡°I went to bed early, figured I wouldn¡¯t want to miss my first case with a flight.¡± Or miss her last case entirely. ¡°Have you flown much?¡± His question was innocent, but there wasn¡¯t much washing out the bad taste in her mouth that was her first meeting with Omar and subsequently Corben. ¡°I¡¯ve gotten around enough.¡± ¡°Fair.¡± They all fell silent. Eitri gritted her teeth. How¡­ Awkward. Talking with these two was like dragging her nails across a chalkboard. It wasn¡¯t hard to tell these two were close, she felt weirdly wedged in, it was almost natural to take a step back and simply spectate these two bantering. But painfully, there was none. It was easy to simply default, walk towards their destination. So that¡¯s what she did, hoping they¡¯d follow along. There was little comment from the other two men aside from an exchange of glances and the clatter of their bags¡¯ wheels against the ceramic tiling of the airport floors. Her hopes fulfilled, she drew herself over to the departures board, quickly scanning it for their flight. Checking in apparently hadn¡¯t even opened, and her expression could only harden. The other two men had caught up with her too, sharing the same uneasy expressions. And then the same disappointment, it seemed. ¡°U-Uhm. Coffee?¡± Corben erred, looking to Omar, and then Eitri.This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. It was a branch, an attempt to break the icy atmosphere. ¡°Sure, why not.¡± Her voice was stagnant. Devoid of much of the expected vibrance which came with agreement. Strangely unsettling, but her compatriots had since learnt that it was simply¡­ normal for her. It wasn¡¯t something that was hard to pick up on, a strange lethargy that never seemed to sway. ¡°Well, let''s uh, try to find a spot, yeah?¡± Corben continued, Omar silently nodding his agreement. ¡°I¡¯ll follow you.¡± Eitri¡¯s muted agreement was just barely audible over the general chatter of Pent Central Airport. She wasn¡¯t one to really fuss with coffee, the last thing she wanted to think of was getting hooked on another poison. Not to mention it didn¡¯t even taste nice, at this point that was the only thing going for alcohol. The two men ahead of her walked ahead aimlessly, both heads searching the perimeter eagerly for their morning fix. As per usual, she simply lagged behind, the droning sounds of airport ambience going in one ear and out the other. Caring any more about what she was hearing would result in nothing good. Small reminders of the past lay everywhere, whether it was a song blaring out through the speakers of a nearby establishment or a person who looked just a bit too much like someone she knew. Even TVs were off-limits, her eyes cast to the ground as they passed by one stationed in a rest area. It¡¯s just what she had to deal with. Her own personal hell. ¡­Her brows scrunched up, her head shaking in a futile attempt to rid herself of the thoughts. ¡°Ah, here¡¯s a good spot.¡± Corben had happily given her a reason to think of anything else, his declaration accompanied with a raised finger, pointing through the crowd to a small, open plan cafe. Adorned with wooden panelling and steel fencing separating it from the general movement of the crowd, it looked¡­ strangely sleek. ¡°Good find Corb,¡± Omar stretched a hand forwards, letting slip a yawn. ¡°Looks nicer than that chain place we passed.¡± ¡°I can¡¯t believe you actually suggested that shithole.¡± They¡¯d passed another coffee place? God, she hadn¡¯t even noticed. A small lick of dread wore away at her temporary contentment, her ears still keyed into their conversation. ¡°Can you blame me for being desperate?¡± ¡°Eyyup.¡± ¡°Fuck you Corben.¡± ¡°Ho ho, let''s get some latte in yah. Clearly the lack of caffeine is souring your mood.¡± You could almost hear the eyeroll, Omar¡¯s hefty sigh cutting through the various sounds Eitri had been tuning out of, before he sauntered forward at a picked up pace. Holding back a sigh of her own, she picked up her pace- as much as her tired body allowed. It¡¯d be a lie to say it wasn¡¯t a struggle to keep up with their chipper pace. If the bitter taste of coffee was going to keep her co-worker¡¯s senses snappy, it was the near suffocatingly rustic smell of last night¡¯s rum that kept her awake. The amount of mints she¡¯d downed in the morning was enough to make her mouth sting, the amount of deodorant being the third thing to keep her senses swirling. But hey. She was awake. That was enough of a win for her today, even if it wasn¡¯t quite the way she wanted it to be. Small steps or¡­ Something. ¡­ Who was she kidding anyways. She was keeping herself awake with the same thing she was trying to run from. It was a hollow attempt at placation, something she¡¯d never been good at. As her two companions sat down, she warily took a spot of her own, reaching out for one of the paper menus and scanning her eyes over it, as if she was going to get anything. ¡­ That chocolate pastry looks good. An annoying little thought quipped in the back of her mind. And as expected, her expression hardened, just a tad, as her mind tempted her into spending what little money she had. ¡°Presuming you¡¯re going to want your latte, as per usual.¡± ¡°I will be wanting that latte, Corben, as per usual. What about you?¡± ¡°Might grab the mochaccino.¡± ¡°Hm, branching out?¡± ¡°Macchiatos getting boring?¡± ¡°Meh, it stopped being trendy to drink.¡± Once again, she found herself spectator to the conversation of two, aggravatingly close friends, chuckling away at their dry humor. But then, unexpectedly, Omar looked over to her, green eyes inquisitively trying to gauge¡­ Something from her. ¡°Are you getting anything? Eitri paused, thought for a moment, and then- ¡°Yes.¡± ¡­ ¡°And uhm, what are you getting?¡± ¡­ Eitri looked down at the menu in her hand, then looked up. ¡°...A chocolate pastry.¡± Wordlessly, Omar pulled himself up, counting something on his fingers before nodding and walking off. ¡°Hm..? Where¡¯s he headed?¡± ¡°Getting the drinks n¡¯ your pastry?¡± Hesitantly, Eitri fished out her wallet, tugging out the final 5 dollar note she had and setting it on the table. It felt odd that they were suddenly so¡­ Accommodating. Had something happened after she left that office? Maybe- Maybe Robin said something. Who was she kidding, of course he did. That blonde know-it-all always had something to say. It was a blessing and a curse that he owed her in the way that he did. ¡°...Just pay later, don¡¯t sweat it.¡± The ginger-haired man in front of her offered a smile that didn¡¯t quite reach his eyes, his hand pushing the note back in her direction. ¡°I want to pay now.¡± ¡°Just do a payment onli-¡± ¡°Let me reiterate, I¡¯m paying,¡± Her hand near-slammed down on the note, aggressively shoving it back in Corben¡¯s direction. Eitri¡¯s expression twisted into a sneer, mouth prepped to sling an insult before- ¡­ She took a moment. Pulled out a pill from the pottle. Then, swallowed it dry. The chalky taste dragged against her throat, her body involuntarily shivering before she settled. Even if it wasn¡¯t instant, the feeling alone was humbling, calming even. A sigh, then, she continued. ¡°I don¡¯t like debts.¡± A long silence, then- ¡°...Right. Then can you handle being in it for just a little bit?¡± ¡°Not comfortably.¡± Eitri set a single finger on the note, slowly pushing it in Corben¡¯s direction. ¡°Omar doesn¡¯t have room in his wallet for notes, it¡¯ll just annoy him.¡± ¡°Does he have pockets?¡± ¡°Yea-¡± ¡°Then he can use his pockets.¡± Even if Eitri didn¡¯t always have the best read on people, it wasn¡¯t hard to tell he was struggling to¡­ Handle this. But what was Eitri meant to do? Omar went and got the food without even considering that she may want to pay for herself? The man opposite her¡­ Was clearly annoyed at this point. She thought so at least. Naturally, she met the ire with some of her own. Then, whatever ¡®conversation¡¯ they were having, fell silent. ¡­ ¡°You two playing nice?¡± Eitri wasn¡¯t sure whether to be happy Omar had returned, or scorn his belittling words. ¡°...For the most part.¡± Corben grabbed the 5 dollars, holding it up to Omar who looked¡­ Positively confused, but hesitantly took the note. So much for being annoyed; Omar looked incredibly indifferent about the whole thing. ¡°And why are you giving me 5 bucks? Did I win a bet or something?¡± ¡°Eitri doesn¡¯t want to pay online.¡± ¡°No, I just said I don¡¯t like being in debt. Not that I don¡¯t want to pay online.¡± ¡°Could you use your phone to pay me instead?¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°Why not?¡± ¡°Because I don¡¯t have my bank account linked to my phone.¡± Omar narrowed his eyes, before setting the pastry down on the table. ¡°Suit yourself then.¡± So, he sat down. And the table¡­ Fell deathly silent. The only thing just barely mitigating the silence was the multitude of conversations around them. ¡­ Eitri looked down at her pastry, her stomach churning, but her appetite, gone. ¡­ I¡¯ll finish this case quickly. It was a thought to distract herself as she reluctantly took a bite. Then I¡¯ll never have to deal with these two again. And with that resolution in mind, she leaned back. The first day of this long journey, and it already felt way too bloody long.