Logan's P.O.V.
Virgil and Roman arrived at eleven o'clock, ate quick meals, showered, then went to their beds. Patton told me that Virgil usually goes to sleep four hours after he gets in bed, so together on the living room couch, we waited out those four hours to ensure that he would not interfere in any way.

Patton gave up trying to convince me not to interrogate the imposter very quickly, so as we waited he said nothing, only fidgeted. At one point, I believe, he fell asleep sitting upright, only to wake up minutes later. I tried to read a book slowly in order to consume more of the waiting time, but I couldn't quite focus on anything other than the man sitting next to me.

At last, just a few minutes past 4 am, I stood up and told Patton it was time. As I helped him up from the couch, I took a long look at him—his appearance was pitiful. The cheerful gleam that usually shined in his eyes was gone, replaced by a look of exhaustion that was enhanced by dark bags nearly half the volume of Virgil's. He looked as though he may fall asleep if he even closed his eyes just long enough to blink. For a short moment, I wondered what had caused him to be so exhausted, but I quickly realized that there should be no question to it at all—he was not only physically but mentally and emotionally exhausted from, well, everything.

We went upstairs and prepared to depart, but as I began walking ahead of him past his room and towards Roman's, Patton grabbed my wrist and stopped me. I turned to face him and he suddenly pressed his lips to mine.

"Be careful," he whispered after he pulled away. "But I'll be there to protect you." With that, I went to Roman's room disguised as Patton and knocked on his door. To my surprise, the door opened seconds later to reveal the imposter.

"Patton?" he questioned. "What brings you here so late—or, should I say, so early?"

"Oh," I said, doing my best impression of Patton. "Sorry if I woke you up, but I really need you to help me with something in my room."

"What would this something be?"

"Lightbulb," I said hastily, not thinking through my response. "I was hoping you could help me with a lightbulb in my lamp. It died a bit ago, and I tried to replace it with a new bulb but it broke when I tried to unscrew it." In the short silence that followed I thought that I had just given the worst possible excuse, second only to outright saying that I wanted to lure him into an interrogation. But, to my great surprise, he agreed to help.

I lead him to Patton's room, hoping that the former was the only one being lured into a trap of sorts. We entered Patton's room, where I knew he was hidden underneath his bed, waiting for the right moment to change the room.

"Which lamp is it?" the imposter asked, looking between the lamps on the bedside tables on either side of the bed.

"It's this one," I replied and pointed to the lamp on the closest table. We walked towards it, and while the imposter leaned over the lamp, I leaned down slightly and gave Patton a thumbs up.

"This isn't broke—" the imposter began to say but was cut off by a snapping noise and the room suddenly becoming extremely bright. Once more, the walls became white, the door and decor disappeared, and a table with two chairs appeared in the middle of the blank room. In the corner of the room stood Patton, his arms crossed as though he was trying to embrace himself. He snapped again, and the imposter and I found ourselves in the two chairs. I changed back into my usual form, then relaxed in the chair, attempting to be casually intimidating.

"What's going on?" the imposter demanded.

"I'm interrogating you," I replied with a pleasant simplicity inspired by that of Albus Dumbledore. "I've assumed that you possess knowledge that I desire."

"I'm not telling you anything!"

"What if your master figured out just how horrible of disguise you hide behind? What if it discovered just how many people know who you really are?"

"You're bluffing, you don't even know who my master is!"

"Do we not? The last time I checked, I believe we have someone who knows, shall I say, some inside information. Would the title 'Curiosity' ring a bell to you?"

"She remembers?"

"Well of course. None of you are as skilled in memory theft as you seem to believe."

"Master didn't steal her memories—when it took her in, she had no memories to steal. But you wouldn't dare tell Master anything!"

"Want to bet?"

With that, the imposter seemed to become much less confident. Just as I had expected, he seemed much more concerned with disappointing his master than sharing inside information. Of course, sharing such information would undoubtedly disappoint his master, but then again, I was entirely relying on his stupidity to make this work.

"Now, any other pointless remarks to make before we get to the point?"

"What's the mood ring got to do with this?"

It took all I had not to reach across the table and put my fist to his face, but I managed to restrain myself. Forcing myself not to look at Patton and to only look directly into the imposter's eyes, I continued with a calm voice, "His role in this interrogation is not of your concern. Now, listen carefully to me; I have only one question for you. Answer honestly, and your master never hears about this or your poor disguise. Don't answer or lie, and, well, I'm sure you know what will happen. Understand?" He nodded.

"Where is Roman?"

I knew it was only a few seconds, but it seemed like hours, waiting for a response. For only a fraction of a second, I glanced at Patton. He seemed so afraid yet so hopeful, and on that rare occasion, I completely understood how and why he felt that way. Looking back to the imposter, however, I saw an expression that I didn't understand. Fear, perhaps, or worry. But before I had a chance to understand what his expression was, he broke the unbearably long silence.

"I refuse to say his exact location... but I will say that he is in the Imagination." I grinned, still remaining composed, turned to Patton, and nodded. He snapped his fingers again, morphing the room back to its usual appearance.

"Thank you for your cooperation," I said, extending my hand to shake the imposter's, which he hesitantly shook with a nod. "Farewell to you." With that, the door opened and he was forced out, leaving only me and Patton in his room. We both sighed with relief.

"I can't believe how well that went," Patton said.

"While I am indeed surprised, I do fully believe it," I replied. "Now, perhaps we should get some much-needed sleep."

Patton and I got ready to sleep, then got in his bed. He immediately rolled over, leaned his head against my chest, and wrapped his arms around my waist, but I took a bit longer to relax. First I had to summon my phone and text Owen, the main informative contact.

"Logey, what are you doing?" Patton asked, his voice indicating that he was already beginning to fall asleep.

"I'm telling the kids," I answered. He smiled as I finished the text and sat my phone down on the bedside table. As I cuddled up closer to Patton and began descending into sleep, a single sentence ran continuously through my thoughts, the sentence I sent to Owen: 'Roman is in the Imagination.'

A.N.
'Sup everyone, I got shoved into another trip. I was going to just skip Friday's update like usual and call it a night (or a day, since I'm writing this at like six in the afternoon) but I decided I'll just update right before I leave, whenever that is.

Oh, also, I made a new book called Tagged, Tagged, and Tagged Again because, as the title implies, I keep getting tagged and I don't want to clutter my other books with author's notes that don't pertain to the book.

Alright, that's it, you can leave now. Adiós, guys, gals, and non-binary pals.