Anne opened the door to her house, surprised to see James on the other side.

"You're back already?" She hesitated, seeing the grim expression James wore on his face. "Did something go wrong?"

"Can I come in?" Without her even replying, he walked inside, the linen bag slung over his shoulder brushing past her. "Something didn't go wrong. It just didn't go... exactly as planned. I still have the souls, though."

Anne nodded as they both stepped into the living room, sitting on opposite couches. "How many souls do you have?"

"Four."

Anne paused. "Two for each of us, then?"

James shrugged. "Sure, why not?"

He took two jars of souls out of his bag and handed them over. Anne smiled, though something about James' demeanor still troubled him. "For real, James, what happened? You aren't acting your usual self today." She laughed. "I mean, usually you would bother arguing that you should've had three out of the four souls. And then you'd press your case, until you would be left with all of them!" She waited for a reaction, disappointed when there wasn't any. "C'mon, James. What happened?"

James sighed and put the bag beside him. "Lots of things. I don't know where to start, really."

"They say that the GRAILCORP headquarters burned down." She stared at him, in mock-sternness. "That was your fault, wasn't it?"

At last, James gave a sliver of a grin. "You could only imagine."

"And then the entire thing collapsed. They say that nobody died, though, as far as they could tell."

James fell silent.

"Did somebody?"

The man began to frown again. "Owen. We had a deal not to tell anybody about this, Anne."

Anne nodded. "And I'm still keeping my promise."

James sighed. "Right. Though... where do I start? There's so much to explain..."

Anne rolled her eyes. "Just start from somewhere, James. I don't really mind, and I have other things that I need to do later in the afternoon."

James paused, and then explained what he had learned in the vault of souls, where he finally finished, "...Owen told me to spread the word. About how the souls are flawed." He pursed his lips. "I doubt he thought it through, though. I can't just announce that and think everybody'll listen, y'know? Nobody would believe me, and if anything, it would just point fingers that I had something to do with GRAILCORP headquarters burning down. Owen does have a point, though."

"Spread distrust?"

"Subtly. Hint at it now and then in conversations. Bring it up when you can, try to string together common knowledge and call the flawed souls a 'theory'. If enough people are believing it, less'll end up falling end up dying because of it." James fell silent. "Then there's another thing. We need to stop James from shipping the souls to Tashar."

Anne raised an eyebrow. "But if the building collapsed, don't you think that Schultheiss would be dead?"

James shook his head, giving a bitter smile. "I doubt it. Owen told me he has a bunker somewhere. And bunker or not, he could've easily escaped behind us too."

Anne frowned. "True. Then, regarding Tashar..." She clicked her tongue. "That's a different situation, isn't it? We can't just spread distrust about that - it'll take too long."

James stood up, slinging the bag over his shoulder. "We need to tip the officials off, then." He grinned, a relief to see. "I have plenty of phones where they can't trace it back to me, not to mention photo proof about the souls and Tashar. We just need to see how it goes from there."

Anne smiled. "Back to the old James again, I see."

*     *     *

They talked about idle matters after that, until James finally left. It was late in the afternoon by then, and a feeling of burden had began to creep into him. More than just the burden about Schultheiss.

There was another promise he had to keep, too.

It was only a stroke of luck that James had found the right hospital at first try. Owen hadn't specified where - only told him to comfort Jessica and whatnot - and he wanted to get it done and over with as quick as he could.

"How can I help you?" the receptionist asked as he walked towards her, the sliding doors closing behind them.

"I, uh..." James cursed. Owen had barely specified anything, now that he realized it. "I'm looking for Jessica Milano." That was her name, right?

The receptionist gave an odd look. "Is Owen away?"

"He... can't come at the moment." At the moment. There was an element of dark humor there that caused him to smile. But you'll both see each other in the next life, eh? "Er, I'm here on behalf of him. To comfort his daughter one last time."

The receptionist nodded, face sympathetic as she began to walk down a nearby hallway, gesturing for him to follow. "In due time, too." She paused. "Owen's daughter... doesn't have much longer to live."

James nodded, frowning. Dammit, Owen should be the one here. His daughter is not my business, it's his! And there were more important matters too, much more important than coddling a half-dead girl!

The receptionist abruptly stopped in front of a room, and he stepped inside, sighing. There was a pile of goop in front of him, lying on a cot, the only sign that it was alive the way it throbbed. As if it were breathing.

Turning to a person nearby, he asked, "This... thing... is Jessica, right?"

The person looked away from the computer and nodded, face grave. "Is Owen able to come?"

James shook his head. What, did Owen happen to befriend everybody in this bloody place? Bother him and how he can't see his daughter one last time, not me! "I'm coming on behalf of him."

The person nodded. "Tell him I'm sorry for his loss."

Ah, if only the person knew. James glanced at the pile of goop again, frowning. Can she even hear me?

He sighed, kneeling down beside the bed and staring at the thing. It seemed to shudder, and then inch closer, only the slightest. Is it looking at me?

He cleared his throat. "Uh... you'll be fine, Jessica. Everything will be alright." He tensed, wondering once again why he was here in the first place. "Uh, your mother was a great person. Your father, too." Well, to a certain degree, at least. He still owed him money. And he would make sure that those debts would be paid off somehow.

The goop began to bubble, as if it was trying to say something, and then finally fell still. James watched and waited. 

Then he finally stood up and left, frowning as he looked behind him. Not even a word from Jessica? Damn you, Owen. You're dead - stop wasting my time already!

At least he was done with that obligation. Now it was the matters of Schultheiss.

*     *     *

As soon as James left, a woman walked in, strolling over to the person beside the computer.

"It's interesting," the woman muttered. "Don't you think, Nolan? Another one, melted just like this." 

Nolan typed several last characters into the computer, then nodded as he turned to look at her. "Only, the pattern's flawed now. Unreliable, at the very least. Owen said that he never used a soul on Jessica. And previous people who've melted and have used a soul sometimes used it so long ago, that you can't really hedge your bets on it." He frowned, leaning his arm on the computer stand. "What do you think, Jo?"

Jo pursed her lips. "There are theories. I still think that souls have something to do with the melting - let's face it, there've been too many links to call it a coincidence. But we don't have any proof that the soul causes it either."

"What about the tests that you started to do on the souls? Y'know, testing their properties and seeing how they could be linked to the properties of a melted patient?"

Jo paused, thinking, and then explained, "Those are still a work in progress. But I'm sure we'll get something out of it sooner or later."

Nolan nodded. "Something, at the very least."

Jo grinned. "Trust me, there's something about the soul that's off. I don't know what others think, but I'm ninety-nine percent sure that the soul's not all it appears to be."

"Well, we'll see when the time comes, won't we?"

*     *     *

Hob sat on a hill, watching the downtown bustle below him. He'd been in this place countless times before - a small clearing in the Divide, giving the perfect view of the prosperous life below. The afternoon sun shone overhead, and birds flew over the blue sky, at last beginning to return home.

The snow had begun to clear since a while ago, and now the first sign of spring was beginning to show. He sighed. How fast did times change? Just weeks ago, it felt as if it were the heart of winter. And only several days before, snow was still heavy on the sidewalks, the frigid cold never ceasing its reign.

How fast do times change? Owen was gone, in the blink of an eye. Hob looked upwards, watching as a lone cloud drifted across the infinite blue. As if Owen would be somewhere above. All that, all in the blink of an eye. It had just been yesterday, hadn't it? Everything had been a blur, but as he looked back, he began to hate himself for not intervening. Why did Owen simply launch himself at Schultheiss? You knew you would die, Owen. I could tell from the look on your face. You knew.

But then... why did you?

Yet somewhere deep down, Hob understood too. If Owen hadn't sacrificed himself - if perhaps a fight of some sort happened instead, would it really change anything? Somebody would die, likely more than just one. And by sacrificing himself, Owen let it so that everybody else would make it out alive.

But Owen, why did you have to die?

Hob closed his eyes. There was an emptiness in him, now. A lack of meaning, perhaps, now that there was nothing else to am for. Who am I? Some part of him was hoping that he could unfold the final scene in the GRAILCORP building, then exit the stage with honor. But now he had survived, and there was nothing more for him in this world. Even James began to deliberately ignore him now, as the man had plans that he couldn't be bothered to know about.

Hob sighed.

There was nothing left for him now.

And all he could do was wait. Wait, to see how the world slowly changed, for better or for worse.

*     *     *

James arrived at Anne's house noon of the next day.

"Again?" Anne laughed. "James, I'm surprised. I expected you to be busy dealing cards at the Dice Cup around now, not visiting me." She gestured for him to walk in. "You have news then, I'm assuming?"

James nodded. "I sent the anonymous tip about Schultheiss and Tashar, and the images of the shipping records. I have no idea how seriously they'll take it, though. After all, the records aren't that hard to fake. Sorta."

Anne shrugged, walking over to the living room and sitting down on a couch. James followed.

"They have to take it seriously to some degree, though it might've been better if you waited a while. The whole GRAILCORP-burning thing is still abuzz with surprise and speculation."

James frowned. "There wasn't enough time. Besides, I burned the phone, the images, and everything else that could be linked to me. Hopefully it'll take a while until they catch on, if they ever." He gave a bitter laugh. "Imagine if they don't even bother exposing Schultheiss, but instead they decide to expose me instead."

"It's the best you can do." Anne waved it off. "What now, then?"

James fell silent. 

"Is there really anything in our control?" Anne asked. "We've done as much as we can. We'll keep spreading rumors, and hope that they catch on. We've told the officials, too. But it's really up to them how they'll deal with it, and we can only hope that the shipments to Tashar get cut." She paused. "Thinking of it, though... how much do stopping the shipments affect everything, in reality?"

"Souls can be used for much more than just bring people back to life, y'know. They can also be harnessed into energy, powering and enhancing machines, extending something's physical limits." Or something along those lines, from what Owen had told him. "Right now, Schultheiss is making sure to balance the two sides of the war, so that Tashar has enough power to counter all the other countries against them." James made a swooping gesture. "But once Schultheiss is removed from the equation, they're left to their own means, leaving them outnumbered and overpowered."

Anne nodded. "Then, hopefully the shipments get cut." She tried to smile. "But back to my old question - what else is there we can do now? What else can we do to end this war, end this plague of souls, bring Schultheiss to justice?"

James paused.

"I don't know, in truth. We just need to wait. See what card the other team places down, then see if we can top it."

He sighed. How did I find myself tangled in all of this?

It didn't matter now. He had another game to win.