Mika frowned; she wouldn't want to visit the heart of the slum again, at least not right now. However, the fish man's sudden appearance would definitely make Brandon reconsider about leaving her at the highlands.

Blood and chunks of silvery flesh rained down upon the road before Mika. Then the coffin-toting Brandon landed beside the mess, spreading cracks across the cratered ground.

As Brandon dropped the coffin and let its chains wrap around his upper arms, Mika approached him with a gulp. "Brandon," she began, her skin tingling at the unnaturally cool mountain breeze, "I... I th-think this m-means the highlands aren't that s-safe and we'll g-go back to the slum together now? But the mist... I d-don't like it!"

Brandon looked at her, the corner of his eye drooping in worry. After a moment of contemplative silence, he muttered, "You're coming with me."

"Wh-what?" Mika's eyes widened. Please, not again! Upon contacting the mist earlier, Mika felt like having barbed wires snake around her left arm and leg. The imaginary object pricked her, crushed her, and then the Seed alien called "Orion" told her to relax. Nothing outside her head could hear its voice, at least not until Orion hijacked her left arm.

Everyone had their own set of ropes that bound them to a state called "sane," and Mika knew the one in her was ready to snap.

Brandon wrapped his brawny arms around her and pulled her close. She knew what he meant; whatever happened, he'd deal with it, even if she would actually need a psychiatrist more than a fighter.

"What am I to you?" he suddenly asked. "More than just a fighter, I bet."

Had he just read her mind? Mika looked up to see his gentle- no, fatherly smile. It warmed her to the core, and she returned it with her childlike one.

Maybe she should start calling him "Father" instead of "Brandon" now. And yes, a father knew the best for his child.

After releasing her, Brandon walked past her and towards their motorbike, or rather, what remained of it. A lump formed in Mika's throat as she approached the wreckage; for four years it had served her and Brandon, and now it was cut up like a carrot thanks to the fish man. Tears streamed out of her eyes when she placed her hands on the sliced sidecar and remembered her rides across the slum.

Brandon patted her on the back. "I can always steal another one."

Those words might sound insensitive for others, but not for Mika. Aside from sensing the tinge of sadness in his voice, she knew Brandon's love for mementos. His trailer - his home - was eighteen years old and had undergone numerous repairs and upgrades, but he just insisted on keeping it.

"I'll only consider getting a new one when the trailer truly 'dies,'" he once told her. "It'll be a sad day, but I'll get over it at the end."

"Yeah," she muttered, sobbing, "I guess it's time to let it go and move on."

Brandon nodded and picked her up. As he ran along the desolate road to the heart of the slum, the tearful Mika couldn't help but keep staring at the wreckage until it finally vanished from her sight.

Mika could've asked Brandon to carry her all the way to the highlands since he could run as fast as a speeding motorbike for hours; his well-developed muscles could store so much oxygen that his body took a long time to start producing fatigue poisons. Unfortunately, blood was his fuel and unlike a motor vehicle, Brandon would disintegrate as soon as he ran out of blood.

It's all thanks to that Seed parasite in him! Mika clenched her fists, her brow scrunched and her teeth gritted. I'll get rid of it someday!

Brandon gradually slowed down. Ethereal whiteness crept around them, raising the hair on the back of Mika's neck. It seemed like they had just left the wreckage a few minutes ago... Or had the mist spread further? Mika looked around to find some clues, but how could she tell from the surroundings? The sky was dull gray, the air smelled like milk chocolate, and all of the surrounding buildings had two stories, one large broken window on each level, and peeling white paint.

Everything was copy-pasted.

Mika rubbed her eyes, but nothing changed. No, no, no. There was no such novelty in the slum! She shifted her gaze to Brandon, who remained poker-faced and kept walking as though the identical buildings didn't exist.

It's just an illusion!

Crushing and stabbing pain shot up from her left leg, then her left arm, and she yelped. As she tried to keep her eyes open, her vision rippled violently.

"Better close your eyes right now," a robotic voice spoke in her head. "Take a deep breath and relax. The pain won't last long. Why don't you count until sixty?"

"I'm not listening to you!" Mika closed her eyes, hoping that the headache from the rippling vision would go away soon. "You'll take over me-" Something cold and fleshy - likely Brandon's hand - cupped over her mouth, reducing her intended speech into a mere "mmf."

"Don't scream. It'll help the enemies locate us."

Mika could soon feel the quick movement to the left. A click and a thud followed.

"Open your eyes, Mika, and look around."

Although the barbed wires had left her limbs, Mika pretended not to hear anything. Nobody should trust the aliens who could potentially take over their bodies.

Brandon moved again, and a few moments later, Mika suddenly dropped down. Her heels struck a hard surface and remained still, telling her that Brandon had found a seat - probably a wooden couch.

"We're inside a house, Mika." Brandon released her mouth. "Open your eyes."

With a gulp, Mika complied and found herself lying on a wooden couch, her head resting on Brandon's lap. Her eyes widened when she saw nothing but intact, slightly ajar windows. White wisps sneaked through the opening and into the house.

When she sniffed the air, she no longer sensed the chocolatey fragrance.

"I decided to surface a bit later unlike earlier because I wanted you to witness my power. I can make a human resist the mist's hallucinogenic effects," the voice came from her left hand, which had turned glossy blue. "Do you trust me now?"

Mika looked at Brandon, who only smiled.

"Let us talk some more. Maybe you'll feel better after that," her left hand said. "Firstly, you should know that we can communicate without speaking. I can read your thoughts."

Mika nodded. Yes, I get it.

"Good. Now, let me introduce myself properly. My name is Orion. I entered your body when you got a dose of Counter-Seed, or the so-called cure for Seed infection. That drug actually consists of a domesticated Seed alien."

Brandon took a closer look at the hand. A curious "hmm" escaped from his mouth.

"I assimilated with the more aggressive Seed alien in you. Because I can't surface without some mist, you won't have any glossy blue skin whenever you're in a mist-free area." The voice chuckled. "Oh, well, I don't like the term 'alien' by the way. In Planet Methuselah, my home, you humans are the aliens."

Mika laughed softly.

"Most Methuselah folks hate me, though. I don't intend to take over a human body because I believe that mankind is salvation. Not the mist."

"You mean-"

Orion cut her off. "I'll help you slay the dragon, uncover the mystery of the mist and get into Metaslica Faculty of Science. If you study hard, I'm sure that you'll find the perfect habitat for the Methuselah folks."

Mika's jaw dropped. This was too good to be true, but Orion could just be lying to earn her trust.

"Give me a chance?" Orion pleaded. "Please?"

Mika only swallowed. Brandon quickly gave her a thumbs-up and a smile to clear her doubts.

Something buzzed and screeched outside. Mika hopped to her feet, her gaze fixated on the incoming crystalline dragonflies behind the windows. They smashed through the glasses and into the house.

When Mika drew her pistol, Orion told her, "Keep that. I'll teach you-" Brandon ran past Mika, the barrel of an assault rifle jutting out of his coffin. "Wait! Let us deal with-"

Bullets sprayed out of the assault rifle and reduced all of the dragonflies to smithereens. Holes littered the wall behind the heaps of crystalline shards.

"Oh my..." Orion murmured. "These dragonflies aren't that threatening, you know?"

Once the barrel retracted, Brandon set down his coffin and seized Mika's blue hand. Pulling it close to his scowling face, he growled, "Threatening or not, you should know the old saying: 'Better safe than sorry.'"

"Don't you want her to grow stronger?"

Better stop right there, Orion, Mika thought. He doesn't really like-

Brandon's words cut her off. "Your plan is risky."

Brandon meant something else; Mika knew it. Her mind quickly translated Brandon's unpleasant tone and sour expression as, "You don't know fathering better than I do! Don't try to steal my role as her father!"

Buzzes and screeches echoed again, and Brandon's grip loosened. Another swarm of dragonflies flew through the broken windows and towards them.

"Seems like they've located us," Orion said. "We should move out."