The morning, we had our first interview.

I think it is safe to say that none of us was feeling really comfortable, both with the thought that we were going to be interviewed for things we didn't want to do, and both because the afternoon, we would be in a room with the president of the IFM, and Lix had to point her rifle at him.

It was really terrible, in a way, to be part of something so calculated. You couldn't really be genuine, knowing what was the next step Michaim would take.

Logar's hair had almost washed out all of the yellow hair dye, and it was re-growing the natural yellow-ish colour. I think it made him look more tough, somehow.

His hair was already exaggerated the way that it was, this yellow strawberry blond colour, but it was mousy enough to create a contrast with his prominent, angular cheekbones.

Seeing him with his natural hair colour was like the times the public had glimpsed pictures of David Bowie with his natural dirt blond hair through his eras. It was almost as if Logar's face had enough character, with its hollows and its planes, to speak for itself even without the help of his hair.

Even though I was a woman, and much different from him, physically speaking, I was always very jealous that for our Visionary it didn't take a lot of effort to look good. And he didn't even know it, which, now that I think about it, was certainly part of the charm. I was always too self-conscious.

Of course The Anti convinced me soon enough that my curly hair was a perk, and perhaps he was right. We always tried to style it in different hairstyles, and I liked how it looked. That day, we had it styled in big bouncy curls, wet style. I also had a fringe, that, I think, did nicely to compliment my face.

Perhaps that was the problem. I often felt that men could get out of bed looking like they wanted to, and if they were handsome, then it was enough, while I was encouraged to wear make-up and make an effort. That time, I said no to make-up.

Lix replied to the first question. That day, to get her mind off the things we were about to do, she was very talkative.

"Our only advantage," she declared. "Is that we're young. I can't shoot. Sveta can't read. Percie can't talk in public, and Logar... can't do pretty much anything except talk in public. But it could be worse: we could be in our fifties."

The audience laughed. I couldn't tell if they were being polite or if they were having fun. 

"I've lived with my parents when they were that age, and we honestly could never manage to do the things we do if we were older," Lix reinforced the message. "I already don't understand how we manage now. Take this for example. Before we arrived here, we went to a place to eat a slice of pizza. Sveta kept asking one of us to read the menu for her, and the waiter was really short on patience and thought we were taking the piss. Percie complained that his pizza was cold, and kept asking him to microwave it, and the waiter pretended he couldn't hear him. So, there was me asking for the allergens, Sveta making up names of pizzas because no one was helping her, and Percie all the while, going, 'It's cold. It's cold, sir. I want it microwaved.' And then," Lix smiled. "And then, at a certain moment, Logar stood up and smashed his fist on the table. 'Order now, goddamn,' he told the rest of us. 'If I wait too long to eat when my sugar gets too low, I'm going to throw up everything'."

This genuinely made the public laugh. We couldn't help but laugh too. Looking back, it might be the first and only time that we really felt like a family.

Lix' hair that day had light blue highlights, and she was wearing a purple silk jacket on the back of which she had hand-written some quote from a punk rock band that I did not know. I just assumed it had to be a punk rock band, because Percie asked her why she'd written, 'I was a teenage anarchist, the revolution was a lie.'

And Logar commented, "Against Me," appreciatively, with I thought was the name of the band, and I knew Logar listened to punk.

I think the jacket looked nice but I really, really couldn't read Lix' cursive. Even if I hadn't been illiterate, her handwriting was murder for the eyes.

The first question had been what we thought was our advantage, which was a stupid question, and Lix' reply had been honest and smart. I wondered if the rest of us, more rebellious in public speaking, would hold up with the same grace.

"So," the presenter asked. "I'd really like to ask, if this is your perk, what are your flaws, but you have already made them clear."

The audience laughed. It felt a bit like they were laughing at us.

"So," he added. "Tell me something about you we don't know."

I could have kept my mouth shut. But then I looked at The Anti. He was backstage, but with one foot out the door. He was wearing a shirt that said 'Havoc on the Telly,' which, he explained to us, was our cue.

I looked at Logar and how he didn't care how he looked. Sometimes it seemed like he did the very best to look grotesque, as if he wanted something to whine about when talking about his appearance, and then someone could reassure him and pay him a compliment.

His silk outfit was mismatched on purpose, hot pink jacket with green trousers. His choppy hair still had faded yellow hair dye on the tips. I wondered for a moment how stupid it would have looked if The Anti had told him to keep his hair curly.

"Our Visionary takes pills for everything," I decided to say, out of spite. "Even for curly hair."

Logar looked at me, like, what game are you playing? To us, it was mostly a game. But we also low-key meant it.

"Our Grenade," he sounded very bothered. "Obviously doesn't."

"You ass," I said. "I'm Mediterrean."

"My mother was a Polish Jew. Hence the hair," Logar replied, surprising me. "And how come you know where your family is from, now?"

He shouldn't have said it. Usually, I would have smacked someone who said something like that. Then, Logar raised an eyebrow. The public at home would have mistaken it for something like, 'come at me', but I knew Logar didn't like fights. If I'd been somewhere around 5'3 and 5'4 and with a thin, scarecrow physique I wouldn't have liked them either. So, from him, the raised eyebrow meant, 'look behind us. Havoc on the Telly.'

But I was too enraged to have a good come back. "You jerk," I only replied. I didn't know whether the strong words were permitted. "My family is alive. I could ask them anytime, unlike you and yours."

Logar looked like a puppy that had been beaten with a stick. But sometimes he was really naive. He always went on how words were his weapon of choice, to then expect someone who used Grenade as a nom de plum to have words that did not sting.

"I was sorry to hear about Mister Iris' father," the presenter said. "I know it happened because of your movement. Didn't it make you want to stop? Did it, perhaps, make you want to pursue the matter further?"

"Oh yes," Logar's eyes shone like a madman. "My father was only the start. But Lix and Sveta had been locked in the Dormitory by their fathers, so we won't stop at nothing until we also kill the two of them. And Percie's father of course will only be a casualty."

"Midget!" Percie called out. "Show me what you got. Let's fight like men!"

"Excuse me," Logar drawled. "I can beat you just fine with my umbrella."

Percie almost showed his fists -- I hoped we were still abiding by the rule of Havoc on the Telly -- when the presenter actually drove them apart.

"The interview went well," Lix commented that afternoon, while we were drinking mulled wine and waiting for the IMF president to show up.

"I should think so," Logar scratched his choppy hair, and his hand came out stained with yellow dye. "I did most of the arguing. It's alright, though. It's the same in real life as well."

In that moment, we were joined by The Anti. "Extraordinary!" he said. "Remarkable! Exceptional! Amazing! Astonishing! Astounding! Marvellous! Wonderful! Sensational! Stunning! Incredible! Unbelievable, dare I say... miraculous."

"Those are the synonyms of extraordinary in the Oxford dictionary," Logar pointed out. "It's creepy that you know them."

"No," I defended The Anti. "It's creepy that you know them."

I knew The Anti was a little eccentric, but to me what mattered was to hear we did well.

The Anti just smiled at Logar. "Prepare yourselves, especially you, Lix. This is your phase of the plan."

I remembered that The Anti had said that the next phase would be about me. Recalling that Percie had to drive away his parents, Logar had to cut short his time of grief and that Lix was about to point her rifle at one of the most influential men in the world in a crowded room, I couldn't help but fear what The Anti would ask of me.

But I could not let him down. It was the first time in my life someone asked something from me instead of taking without asking first.

The room started filling in with the presidents of various associations. There really was the president of UN, and UNICEF. 

The latter was a woman who walked up to us.

"Hello," she said. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Is this the question?" Logar asked.

She looked a bit confused. "I wanted to know," she picked up courage. "What you're willing to do for the children."

"Sorry, what?" Percie looked even more puzzled than her.

"The children," she echoed. "Are dying even faster than before. The US-UK alliance has never lost this number of children, unless maybe in the early times of the Victorian era. I would support your revolution, if I was sure you'd do something for the kids."

I couldn't believe my ears. I mean, we were a joke even to ourselves. There was no way the lady from UNICEF couldn't see it. Or maybe, I wondered, The Anti had really managed to turn us into something bigger than life, that gave people hope, and perhaps we weren't a joke anymore.

However, our mouths were dry and we couldn't come up with replies, because we weren't used to reply something serious instead of something witty. Especially considering we didn't have The Anti there with us, to give us advice.

"We need to talk it through with our manager," I finally managed to say, which I know the others considered a weak reply.

Logar seemed to gather courage. "We, of course, do think of the children," he specified. "We're not bad people. We don't want the children to be harmed in any way. And when I was a kid, I almost died because of the heat."

We looked at him impressed, because we didn't know.

"I almost died too," Percie decided to bare his secrets as well. "When I was five I got a terrible illness."

It made my heart ache, to realize I'd never known and he'd never told.

"And I," I said. "Almost died because of what my step-father did to me."

The others were impressed, and a little horrified. I noticed that Logar, who, other than being insufferable, also had a lot of empathy, was looking at me with new eyes. This was why I never told anyone before. I didn't want them to start coming up excuses as to why I was the thief and the pyromaniac. Of course now I know I have a disease, and that it probably comes from my childhood, but back then I just wanted to be... Sveta. I didn't want the others to know the details.

"And I," Lix grunted, mostly because we were all looking at her. "Have a case of depression that's never been cured. It's like a life-threatening illness, you know."

"So," the lady from UNICEF looked really relieved. "Your revolution is also based on making sure nothing like that happens again?"

We exchanged looks. The revolution was Toutatis'. We'd never even thought about it before. But in that moment, it seemed clear as day.

"Yes," Logar replied confidently.

I wondered if it was his 'magic powers' talking. Maybe we'd stumbled upon a good thing. Maybe it was our new start. However, now I know it was probably another kind of miracle: we all found something we agreed on.

None of us wanted any child in the world to suffer as we suffered ever again.

In that moment, the CEO from IMF entered the room.

I looked around. There were lots of photographers.

"I'm sorry, lady," Percie told the woman from UNICEF. "We're about to do something you won't like very much. You know," he winked. "Business."

She was a little stunned, maybe because of the words, or maybe because an objectively handsome young man dressed in dark green silk winking at you tends to have this effect on you. I found myself wondering what it would have been like, to share that first kiss with Percie... it wouldn't be my first anymore, but I could do it now.

But no. It was stupid. It was Perce. You don't kiss your friends and you don't kiss your brothers. And everyone else in the Power of Sight was just as kissable, which made kissing Percie even more off limits. Why fool around with the person who would hate you the most for it?

As for Logar and Lix, probably none of them even liked girls. And I didn't like them that way. There was no one I had ever liked that way so far. But... we surely could have groupies? I'd never heard The Anti saying anything against it.

"Stop looking at Percie's lips," Logar snapped at me. "Lix is about to shoot."

I blushed, but soon looked ahead, recoiling at the sight of my tiny friend with the huge rifle in her hands. She would look amazing in the pictures, like a gorgeous young child soldier during a war. However, in that moment it struck me. It couldn't be all The Anti had in mind, could it?

Lix pointed her rifle, and we soon found out there was something wrong.

Logar, who was next to me, became paler than I'd ever seen him. The colour of the white cliffs of Dover I'd seen on television.

"There's something wrong," he yelled at me. "The Anti is not here!"

My blood froze in my veins. If The Anti had been there, he could have covered for us, he could have explained...

But he wasn't.

And so the bodyguard of the IMF CEO shot from his own pistol, and the bullet hit Lix in the chest.

Lix fell in Percie's arms.

It was chaos. I didn't think the others were exactly concerned with what happened to us, but I started singling out only the voices of my friends amongst the turmoil, so I'll never really know.

Percie let Lix's body crumble near the wall, and we all knelt down next to her.

Even for inexperienced people like us, it wasn't hard to see the shot had been deadly. Her eyes were glassy, and she wasn't breathing anymore. Her body was limp.

Logar started wailing, crying harder than I've ever heard him, and he isn't exactly one of those men who are ashamed of tears.

I put my arms around him, because I was having a hard time understanding what was going on. Even with Lix' lifeless stare looking at me, Logar's ugly, terrible sobs and Percie's slow tears, I still couldn't wrap my mind around it.

Until I heard a voice, I think it belonged to the bodyguard, who said sheepishly, "... really sorry... I really thought she was going to shoot... how are we to know this was just for show either way? ....sorry .... you have to understand that this is my job."

And I realized he was talking to somebody else, probably The Anti, and I realized what he had done. It hit me in one, painful, terrible wave of horror, and I started crying and calling out Lix' name. 

I could feel Logar and Percie hugging me, and the last thing I remembered is that we were all hugging each other, and probably even hugging Lix.

I woke up during the ride home, with a tired-looking Percie driving the van and a Logar with red-rimmed eyes sat next to me.

"This is the second person that I lose," Logar said in a whiny voice. "Fuck it."

"Hey!" Percie tried to be the Diplomat. It hit me, that we didn't know anymore where our roles started and where they ended. "We're all grieving here. You don't get to lose your mind, Rita Hayworth. We have other things to do."

I was always happy when someone told Logar to shut up, but in that moment all I could think about was how ruthless Percie was being. 

"What do you mean a job to do?" I asked. I was aware that my voice sounded very unsure, like the voice of someone who hasn't used it after they cried more than they ever did in their life.

A shadow passed upon Percie's face, and I realized he didn't want to go through with it either. He simply wanted to keep us together, no matter what, because not even he had a family anymore, and us not being together would make him fall apart.

It was fine by me. Neither I nor Logar had someone we could home to.

"First, The Anti told me Lix' funeral will be tomorrow, and I believe we will have to show up," he said. "Then, he also told me we need to look for a new sniper."

"Oh, because it went so well the last time we had one!" Logar said, and spat on the floor of the van. I smacked his leg.

"And what else?" my heart skipped a beat. I knew Percie too well. I knew there was something he wasn't telling us.

He exhaled. "I'm not driving you home," he confessed. "The Anti said he found us another safe place, and that, for now, we have to live there, away from the prying eyes."

"And what kind of a place is that?" Logar asked.

"A monastery," Percie replied. "Where The Anti has assured me that their creed is our mission."

"What?" I asked.

"You don't understand," Percie turned around to look at us. His face was wet. "Those people believe in the Vision."