The heroes find me before noon. I glance towards the alley mouth where a woman dressed in all-black sleek, comfortable-looking clothes and surrounded by holograms rounds the corner. Citizen, David, Aben, and Galah follow behind her.

A dullness settles over my shoulders and I look away. Found. Already. I should feel something more than a mild sense of frustration, but I can't bring myself to care. Of course they'd find me—that's just my luck in this rotten world.

"Denizen?" Footsteps trace closer to me. David stands in front of me, glancing around at the alley for danger. "Are you okay?"

A bitter laugh tugs sours my voice, worsening the throb of my cuts and bruises. "You should know the answer by now."

David's eyes sadden and he offers a gloved hand. "Come on, let's get you out of here."

I let my gaze fall on his hand, indecision handing heavy in my chest. His fingers are tipped in electric blue, just like his hair, standing out against black of his glove. I could refuse. But what would that do? They would make me go with them anyway. I don't have a choice. Did I ever have a choice?

With a heavy sigh, I stand up, leaving his hand hanging. I don't wait for him as I walk towards the others, keeping my hands stuffed in my pockets.

Citizen's face is hard as he steps aside to let me pass, eyes darting around the dilapidated building. Late morning light slants into the alley, illuminating him from behind and a little to the side, causing the edges of his dark chestnut curls to seem to glow like golden bread in an oven. "Is Blank Slate nearby?"

Yes. "I don't know. I just ran for it and ended up here."

He frowns and tips his head at Aben and Galah. "Be on alert. Titular, do your scanners see anyone nearby?"

The woman in black swipes at one of her holograms and peers at it. "Negative. This place is truly abandoned." Flicking it away, she turns her gaze on me, eying me from head to toe, a slight frown on her face. Unlike the other heroes, she wears no mask that I can see.

Shifting uncomfortably, I reach up and run a hand through my curls, tugging at knots carelessly. Pain sends sharp barbs into my scalp as I pull, briefly breaking through the dullness pinning me down. "Can we leave already? I don't want to see him again."

Citizen nods and begins walking out of the alley. "This way."

It is a quiet walk to the hovercars, and remains so during the whole ride. David attempts to engage me in conversation a couple of times, but I shut him down. I don't talk with heroes. Not anymore. They've already gotten to my head and I don't intend on letting them get any further. Or are they getting through Deception's mind control to your real mind? a part of me mutters under the buzz of static.

Irritation growls under my skin and I push the part away. I've already made my choice to be the villain everyone says I am and I am not backing down from it. I am someone. I am Blank Slate. I am a villain.

And villains don't talk to heroes. Villains don't be nice to heroes, let alone be friends. I close my eyes and let the numbness and static consume me.

As soon as we arrive in the Temporary HQ, Citizen turns on me. "Are you in league with Blank Slate?"

A jolt of ice shoots down my arms. What? "Of course not!"

Citizen shakes back his hair, expression hard. "Is there a tracker on you? In your holowatch, perhaps?" He looks at me, scanning my face. "What happened should not be possible. He could not have found us that quickly, unless he knew where we would take you."

Is he suggesting that I told Blank Slate about the safe house? Why on earth would I do that? Not just because that'd be telling myself, but my cover story is that Blank Slate wiped me, so I'd definitely have no inclination to invite Blank Slate over.

Unless he thinks you lied about that. Once again, ice slides into my hands, piling up like a slushy snowdrift. Shoot. That's too close to the truth. Why couldn't the heroes have just left me alone?

I grit my teeth. "If you're suggesting I told him, of course not! He did—" I wave a hand at my head, heat sparking in my chest, "—this to me! And kidnapped me again. Why in the world would I want to help him?"

Citizen regards me like a raccoon calculating the risk of the next garbage can that's guarded by a dog. "You are not who you seem, Denizen. You have escaped Blank Slate. Twice. Do you know how many of his victims escaped? None. Not even one."

My lungs freeze, the static rising to a crescendo. None? What did— what did I do to them? Shivers worm their way under my skin, wiggling around just under the surface. "I—"

"I ask you again, Denizen—if that is your real name—are you working with Blank Slate?" He lifts his chin, pinning me down with a smoldering stare.

An ice spear stabs through my heart. He suspects me. Does he think I am Blank Slate, or someone else dangerous? A villain or a misguided citizen? Maybe...maybe he might even suspect me to be a "viper-pleaser", though that is a little far-fetched.

Whatever he suspects me to be, I am skating on thin ice. I narrow my eyes to slits, the shivers turning to stabbing needles of icy fire. "No," I manage through clenched teeth. "I am not."

He holds my gaze for a few, tense beats, then lets some of the tension in his shoulders ease. "Can you prove it? How can we know you are not lying? How can we trust you?"

The needles snap into barbed words and I spit them out, fire overtaking the static in my head with a burst. "How can I trust you? I hardly know you! I hardly know any of you! And you want me to prove myself? I'm bloomin' memory wiped! I have no clue what's happening or why, and haven't got a scrap of information to rectify that!"

Spinning on my heel, I stock past the heroes and towards the doors.

"Wait, Denizen!" David calls.

"I am going to the bathroom," I snap, throwing a glare over my shoulder. And never coming back, if I can find a window.

They don't follow me to the bathroom, thankfully. I step inside a stall and lock the door. With a heavy sigh, I lean my forehead against one of the walls, staring at my shoes. Scuff marks mar the black, synthetic leather, and dust dulls its shine.

Whatever am I going to do? I just...want to leave. Go somewhere else. Do something instead of defending my messy web of lies. Be something other than this tangled, scraped slate.

Do I even want to remember all of what I lost? What I know now is hard enough to juggle, but I can't— I can't keep doing this. I can't keep not knowing and struggling and... My mind slips to a darker static-covered corner where an option that chills me to the core lies.

I could let the heroes catch me.

If I did, I wouldn't have to keep running. I wouldn't have to keep lying. And...is it better for the heroes to catch me? I...am a villain. A pretty bad one. I am not innocent, even if I don't remember doing horrible things. Perhaps it would be better for me—for everyone—if the heroes caught me. I could just...tell them everything and let them do what they wish with me—which is probably death.

I sigh and push off from the stall's wall, rubbing my face with both hands. No. I don't want that. I don't want to die. Following habit more than necessity, I flush the toilet and head out of the stall to wash my hands. The water is cold, stinging my skin with its bite, but I keep them under, watching as my hands slowly lose color.

The bathroom door opens and David walks through. He approaches me, stopping a few paces off and leaning against the wall.

What must he think of all this mess? I...used to be his friend. No, I used to pretend to be his friend. And now... Shutting off the water, I lean my elbows on the sink and cover my face. The chill from my hands seeps into my face, leaching out every ounce of warmth bit by bit. I wish I could reach past my skin into my brain and leach out answers from the empty, tangled web of missing holes of my past.

But I can't. My memories are gone, and they're not coming back, maybe for the better or maybe for the worse.

"Denizen."

"What do you want?"

Silence. Then, a sigh. "I trust you. I know you wouldn't...ally with villains or anything like that. You're a good man. A good friend."

Sour, manic laughter returns, coating my tongue in acid and I almost want to turn to him and ask, What if I told you I am Blank Slate? What would you do then? Still trust me? But something—self preservation, probably—stops me. I don't want him to know. Not just because he's a hero but because...then he wouldn't be nice to me anymore, and at this point, I don't think I could handle that. Not with everything else.

I move my hands to my hair, running my white fingers through my curls. "I'm anything but a good friend." The words fall out breathless and rancid, eaten away by the sour laughter.

"No, Denizen, you are. You're just..." another sigh, "...struggling. Struggling to remember who you are."

The words penetrate my walls, sinking past the blank slate surrounding my mind and reaching into a dark place that hasn't seen light in a very long time. He...doesn't know how right and wrong he is. I do know, in theory, who I am. I am a villain, Blank Slate, and I did horrible things because I wanted to and...because I was led astray—probably.

But in another way, he's right. I don't know why I am a villain. I don't know why I chose this path. I don't know why I am lying to the heroes—to David—or what even I'm trying to accomplish.

And I am so tired of trying to find out. Trying to stay afloat. Trying to be someone I don't remember. So tired that I...I almost want to let the cat out of the bag and just let them do with me what they wish.

I want to tell him. Some part of me wants to tell him.

"I don't think—no, I haven't been a good friend to you. I've been so focused on finding Blank Slate, so focused on righting our hurt, that I...didn't realize that you were hurting, and as a friend, I should have been there. I am sorry, Denizen. Truly sorry."

Slowly, I lift my eyes to his. They are full of remorse and honesty shapes the curve of his eyebrows and the crinkles around his eyes.

David reaches up and pulls down the scarf covering his face, spreading his hands. "You may not remember who you are, but I do. Would you...like me to show you who I remember?"

The numbness surrounding me falters and something in me twists my breath like a wet towel, wringing out little droplets. He is—offering to show me...me? From before the wipe? The droplets land in my chest and swell as tentative tendrils of hope reaching for the light.

It's something small, but it's there. It's a chance to know who I was. Who I might be now. It might be a trap—an offer only to drag secrets out of me—but I don't care anymore. It's something and I am going to take it, consequences be defenestrated.

"Yes," I say, my voice rough and breathy. "Yes, I do."

David smiles and reaches over, patting my shoulder. "I will keep my duty as a hero to protect you, but I'll keep my duty as a friend, too."

I nod, and the weight of the static shifts, not off my shoulders, but into a position where it doesn't bear down on me so much. I glance towards the bathroom door, the flicker of a smile pressing at my mouth vanishing. I...still need an excuse to explain my second 'kidnapping' and 'prove myself', just like one of my rules.

An idea falls into place and I shift my gaze back to David. "He threatened me."

David's citizen face slips, replaced by his hero one. "Blank Slate?"

"Yeah. He came into my room and told me to pack my things, and if I tried to call for help, he'd blank me again." Lies. So many lies. "Then he took me back to his base and asked me all sorts of questions. I think he was trying to see how much I remembered and everything I knew about you and Citizen." I shrug. "And I...didn't actually run away. He let me go and told me to not say a word about this or else he'll blank an entire building again with me in it."

David's face darkens, his eyes turning to fragments of flint as he clenches his fits. "We will not let that happen."

"I know." Because I'm not doing that any time soon or ever, if I can help it. Glancing down at my feet, I push nervousness into my voice. "Just...please pretend that I never told you this."

A hand lands on my shoulder and I look up. "Of course. I will inform Citizen, if that's alright, and we'll make sure our actions as a team will show no sign of our knowledge that anything's amiss."

And hopefully that means less security—or at least, obvious security—and it'll be easier to escape after I've gotten what I want from David. With a nod, I head to the bathroom door and pull it open. David follows me as I return to the others, hands in my pockets.

"Here's your proof," I say, pulling out the slate of ENglass I found at my base and handing it to Citizen. "I stole it off Blank Slate."

Citizen takes it, brows furrowed, and breathes on it to activate it. A few beats pass as he reads before he lifts his gaze to mine. It is still tinged with obsidian fire and suspicion, but it is retreating. "I see." He straightens, slipping the slate into his pocket. "Let us get you to a safe place—this one where Blank Slate will not find."

Rule eight, prove yourself, complete. A slight smile twitches at the corner of my mouth, and more weight eases off my shoulders.

I am not half bad at this lying game.