Golden fields of wheat and corn dried under the hot summer sun flashed by my window as I leaned my head against its cool surface, relieving my oncoming headache. Sandy blonde hair irritated my nose, despite attempts to blow it away.

Mom had phoned Pudding, tasking her to drag me back home. Apparently, dinner would be ready soon, and she wouldn't take "busy, maybe some other time" as an option.

So there I was, sitting beside Apollo in Athena's half-broken down sports car. Thankfully, there wasn't enough room for all of us, so Kelpie had to stay behind. Extra thankfully, Kightlen had returned to their proper place in Kight's body -where the obnoxious spirit belonged.

My seat jolted up and down as the car wheels rolled over my family's rock driveway. A pine forest surrounded our large, old, burgundy house. A thin layer of dust and dirt shaded the windows covered by patterned white curtains. Home sweet home.

Athena pressed down on the breaks, slowing the car to a stop beside the steps that led up to our porch. She leaned over the driver's seat to say her farewell, and my sister and I thanked her and the rest of her team (excluding Kelpie) for driving us.

As I half-heartedly skipped to the door, I recited the lines in my head for explaining my injuries. Since a long sleeve grey shirt -which was painfully hot- covered my shoulder and chest, I'd try to convince her I fell and got bruised up. Things would get tricky if she saw my bandages, but it wouldn't have been the first time.

The sound of Athena's car pulling out as I swung open the front screen door alerted me of her departure. Walking in, the warm scent of baked bread and soup met my sister and me. Soup during the hottest days of summer shouldn't have been appealing, but my starving stomach begged to differ.

"Misha!" shouted my mom over the rumbling of my tummy. I dragged myself into the dining room, letting out a groan of frustration. Why didn't Pudding get called too?

Setting down a steaming bowl of what looked similar to Italian Wedding soup, my mother didn't even look in my direction before commanding, "Set the table."

Strands of ash grey hair tumbled down her cheeks, and the rest was pulled into a tight bun. Mom wore a white tank-top beneath her unbuttoned denim vest. Her sky blue eyes -the same as my own- glanced over me when I didn't immediately set into action.

"What? Did you go deaf again?" she asked, referring to when I had gotten very ill as a child to the extent of going deaf for a few weeks. Her voice was worn from getting raised at me but strong from the yelling practice that came with it.

"No," I dragged out my answer while turning towards the kitchen to retrieve dishes. "I don't have super speed."

"But if you did, you wouldn't use it," commented my mom, or as you may refer to as Mongoose. Actually, as a human, you'd refer to her human identity, Moira Fonseca.

Knowing that she had a point -considering even if I did have super speed, I'd still have to hide it from mom to keep her suspicions of me being a superhero at bay- I let it drop. Even if I could continue the argument, mom always got the last word anyway. Completely unfair for her to add her last word then say "don't you backtalk me, young lady".

Placing the glass dishes and silverware at their proper places on the table, I noticed Pudding standing in the doorway, her hands held behind her back. She sent me a look telling me something was wrong, but then mom arrived with a plater of sliced, freshly baked bread.

"Yum," I said, attempting to reach for a piece only to have my hand slapped away by mom. She wordlessly pulled out a chair and sat down. If I slapped her hand, they would never find my body. Unfair.

Noticing Pudding still standing in the doorway, Mom finally addressed her. "What are you just standing there for? Dinner's ready and on the table."

Pudding, side glancing towards me, responded, "Um, Misha and I should get washed up first. We were playing in the forest and got a little messy."

Mom eyed me over, taking note of how abnormally clean my tanned skin was. I had, after all, recently washed all that nasty black goop off. Luckily, Pudding hadn't been bathed and looked convincing enough. To mom, there was no way I'd be clean but Pudding not. So she allowed -more like made- us both to leave to go clean up.

Once in the bathroom, by the sink, Pudding finally spoke. "Ilene texted me. There's something going on."

"She texted you?" I asked in disbelief. Technically, since phones were easily hacked by skilled individuals -as Ilene proved countless times- we weren't supposed to talk S.H.H.A. through them. They were intended to be used for casual talking between friends. "There's definitely something wrong."

"I know. The last time she texted..." Pudding left her sentence hanging as we remembered that mission. It wasn't actually a mission but Echo was involved and had bribed Ilene. She traumatized me for life.

"What did she say?" I asked, genuinely curious but suspicious at the same time. I sure hope Echo's not involved this time.

Pudding looked down at her phone and read the text out loud. "The first one reads 'we need to talk about Misha', and the second one says 'I've messaged her, but she hasn't replied. Can you tell her?'"

"Now I'm scared." Ilene never started a phone conversation with me. I'd sent her countless texts, but she only replied every now and then. Something is definitely up.

Hopefully, that something doesn't involve earlier today. The voice in my head, which had been quiet for a while, reminded me of the fight I had with it earlier... while talking to Ilene.

A ding! came from Pudding's phone and her eyes widened upon reading the message. "Whoops," she whispered as she jammed her thumbs into the screen, typing something back.

Trying to peek over her shoulder, I asked, "Whoops? What do you mean whoops?"

"Nothing," muttered Pudding, sliding the phone back into her jean pocket. The brunette shoved past me before I could ask any other questions and said quietly over her shoulder, "You should check out Ilene's texts after dinner."

Following close behind her, I whispered, "As in she'll kill me if I don't or she's planning on killing me so I should really know what's happening?"

"You'll have to see to find out," responded Pudding as we reached the kitchen.

Or you could just tell me. That would be great to ease my nerves.

Although I wanted to respond, mom was sitting there with a stern look on her face, waiting for us to sit down so we could eat dinner. It would have to wait till after I finished her new baking experiment- which based on smell alone, had been a success.

"How were your adventures?" asked my mom, starting everyone's favorite game: Guess What Pudding Told Mom We Were Out Doing All Weekend.

***

Ilene leaned back in her office chair. A dull ache pounded in her head from a persistent headache caused by the combined forces of staring at computer screens, stress, and lack of sleep.

Most of the room, Misha's office, was covered in shadows. Flashing lights from the various computer screens illuminated Ilene's human face and clothing. The top halves of her sunshine yellow eyes were shaded by her same colored bangs.

She was clothed in skinny blue jeans, a white undershirt, and a lacy baby blue jacket. In the palm of her hand, she held a shiny black phone that produced a chime and lit up to show she had received a message.

Her eyes scanned the phone screen then she smiled and dropped her hand to her side. Letting out a humorless chuckle, Ilene said to the empty room, "So much for that. Too bad Misha's better at keeping secrets than she lets on."

Sighing and laying her hand over her eyes, Ilene muttered, "I sure hope those two know what's going on. Even just a hint."

As if answering her call, her phone dinged to signal an unknown number messaging her. In that case, the number was known. She just didn't bother adding it to her contacts.

Opening up her phone, Ilene first saw the message she had sent them.

Hello, Athena and Kight. This is Ilene, head Communicator of the Main S.H.H.A. Headquarters. However, a friend of Misha's may be the more appropriate title for this. I have a few questions for you, and I apologize if this takes up your time. They are about Misha. You are not obliged to answer any. Would the two of you be willing to do this?

Scrolling down, Ilene reached the message Athena sent back.

You're Misha's best friend, correct? She's talked to us about you before. Yes, we are willing to hear your questions. I believe we know what they will be about. However, I can't guarantee we have all the answers -or at least the answers you wish for.

Speaking as she typed, Ilene wrote back her message with a weight off her shoulders. She hadn't known whether they'd agree or not. "Thank you. If you know why I am asking, then you will understand when I ask, what happened today at Slider's River Camp?"

Ilene sent the message, and a few moments later, her phone dinged again. This time it came from a different number- Kight's number.

She was injured during combat. At one point, she was dropped onto the bird's back. That's when something happened to her.

Ilene read over the text, imagining the countless ways Misha could end up riding a giant monster bird. S.H.H.A. was still trying to discover the birds' origin and what they were doing in camp. However, as a Communicator far removed from the Researcher field, Ilene knew little of what information had been gathered.

Another ding notified her of Athena's add on to Kight's text.

At first, she started screaming "No!" and clawing at a certain part of the bird's back. Then, the bird randomly stopped trying to knock her off as if it no longer noticed her there. Misha kept screaming unintelligible words and digging a hole into its back.

"Didn't notice her?" Ilene asked herself, but she knew asking would just come back with blank replies. They were all in the same boat of not knowing what was going on. All she could do was make a mental note to check with Gremlin, one of the cats doing research on the bird remains.

Kight texted, Kightlen knew something was wrong from the beginning.

Now it was Ilene's chance to cut in, Kightlen?

My power, explained Kight. Although still confused, Ilene had a vague understanding of their power from Misha. She used to always rant on about how epic it was and her jealousy towards it when they were younger.

Athena, who had been typing before Kight posted, finally sent her message.

Afterward, Misha got into a fight with Kightlen. I'm not exactly sure what it was about, but you might know more than me.

She snapped "what" at them, but Kightlen told her to ask herself. Something about Misha not knowing herself. At least I think that's what happened. Then they mentioned Misha fighting with herself, and how Misha's soul was draining. They said eventually Misha wouldn't be able to heal her soul.

"Her soul is drained?" asked Ilene out loud before deciding to text it back.

Kight, who Ilene assumed had more knowledge on the topic, responded.

Most people think that the soul is your mental body as opposed to your physical body, but that's not true. Your soul is a third body connected to your physical body by the mental body. Your soul and physical body never touch.

Ilene nodded as she read and waited for the next message that she hoped would contain the actual answer to her question. Draining souls sounded important, and she wanted to know what was going on with her best friend.

Your mental body has a strong grasp on both your soul and physical body. It tells your physical body what to do and decides what messages should be sent to your soul. It has a direct connection to both.

"So if Misha's mentally unwell, she's physically and emotionally unwell also," thought Ilene out loud.

There are two sides to your mental body -or two paths, rather. Your conscious and your subconscious. Your subconscious has a stronger connection to your soul, and your conscious has a stronger connection to your physical body. That's why your conscious is more heavily affected by what you can see, touch, hear, taste, and smell.

When one is injured, the other keeps the physical body and soul connected until it heals. There are many ways to sever the connection, but I think I know what's going on with Misha.

Ilene waited in anticipation for the next text to come. It was all confusing, but she hoped she could understand Misha's problem. How else could she help?

If she's fighting with herself, then there are multiple possibilities. Kightlen, my soul, can only see her soul. So they can't see the exact problem. However, it seemed like Misha's subconscious wasn't being directly affected. That makes sense considering their conscious appeared broken into different paths.

Kight had completely lost Ilene. She spun her chair around to ask the empty room, "What makes sense? If her subconscious isn't harmed, isn't she all good? Won't her conscious eventually heal or something?" The only answer she received was another ding from her phone.

Think of two flowing rivers. One is narrow and deep, and the other is wide and shallow. Rocks barge out from the surface, making the water dodge around them in all different directions. Which one is easier to send a boat down?

"Because this is entirely on topic," groaned Ilene, laying her head back against the chair.

The narrow and deep river is the ideal conscious. No ones conscious is perfect, but that's the example of perfect. Misha's is the other one. Her mind has so many obstacles that it's split into multiple parts. None of those parts know the end destination, and they're so far removed by this point, they don't even remember how each other came about. It's nearly impossible for her to send a boat from her physical body to her soul with it like that.

Frustrated by her lack of understanding, Ilene typed, So Misha's confused? Tell me something I don't know. Like how this has to do with her soul being drained. What even is a drained soul?

However, Ilene didn't send it. Instead, she got up from her chair, and sat down beside the cat door. The cool, fresh night air calmed her thoughts for the moment, and she closed her eyes, only then noticing the light tapping of raindrops hitting the smooth, rocky path outside.

She smirked thinking of how Misha would come in the morning, cursing every puddle as she walked by and smearing her muddy paws through her office. Then, depending on her mood, she might start pestering Ilene about who knows what.

Ding.

Ilene looked down at her screen and tapped her thumb on it to keep her phone awake. Another message had arrived.

That's only a possibility, but it's a high chance that's one of the things influencing her soul's state right now. There's something else going on as well, but my mental body couldn't get whatever message Kightlen sent to my physical body. You can think of it as getting lost in translation.

"Another thing? How many problems does Misha have," Ilene chuckled, this time with a hint of humor. "I always knew there was something wrong going on in that head of hers."

Whatever it is I think has a direct effect on her soul, but without knowing more, I can't explain anything. I'm sorry.

Quickly, Ilene sent back the text,

That is okay. You lost me a ways back, but I think I understand the important parts. But, how does any of this have to do with Misha's soul draining?

Despite not understanding as much as she thought she would, Ilene was still thankful for Kight trying their best to explain. The last thing she wanted was them feeling bad for not being able to explain an even more complicated concept.

When he replied, Ilene scanned over the few paragraphs of text, hoping to find they had finally answered the question she wanted from the start. She wasn't disappointed.

That's a way of saying the soul is losing its connection with the mental body. The soul can "survive" without a mental body. But, not without the physical body. Maxima, for example, is said to no longer have a physical body. Only her soul. That's not true. Her physical body and soul have blended together. They are directly connected.

The physical body and soul must have a connection. If not, you lose your soul. That means the mental body can not find it even if your soul is right next to you. The mental body is looking in the wrong places.

The physical body doesn't last long without a soul. Typically, since your conscious has a stronger connection, it decides what happens to your body. Without your soul, you make choices that otherwise wouldn't make sense. Depending on the person, those choices can be morally wrong or personally harmful.

The term "drained" can also mean your soul is losing the signals sent by your physical body. Even a lost soul naturally doesn't lose those signals. They are what make up the soul. In most cases, souls "drain" because of a loss of connection as mentioned before. In some cases, it's because of something in the soul.

"Thank goodness I can understand some of this," said Ilene to herself. "But what happens to the soul when it's been completely drained." She texted her question to Kight.

It didn't take long for him to reply, but Ilene wished it had. Maybe that way she could have thought over how her question would certainly have an answer she didn't want to hear.

The signals sent from the physical body are what make the soul. Without them, the soul doesn't exist. It's not lost, and there's no getting it back. If Misha loses her soul, she will not exist.