“I thought I’d be safe from you at this hour.”

“Is it not the army you should be worried about?”

Free slammed down the trunk of his car and tugged the cigarette out of his mouth. “I think they’re steering clear of me, actually.”

It was the very tip of dawn. The city was wet from the soft autumnal rain the night before. In the silver rays of the sunrise, the buildings, the bridge and the water were gilded, even shimmering. It had been a long time since Sao had seen this part of the city at such an hour. It could surprise him at times, how much more magic some things held for him as an adult than they had in his youth.

Sao leaned on one of the car park’s pillars. He was still a little sleepy. “Was it you or Cole who mutilated the body and threw it into the flaming van? As for the crash itself, you can spare me the details. Cole’s daring, but he’s still human.”

“Again with the accusations. What is this? Am I about to be swarmed by hidden cops?”

Sao shook his head.

Free pulled a broad smile. “Well, let’s not get overly righteous, then. You seemed to totally forsake that poor gunman back at the girls’ little theater showing.”

That was enough of a confirmation. “What happened to Fin after his captors crashed?”

“He’s doing what the project intended. Frolicking free. Doing his own thing. And this time, he’s got an escape button that actually works, courtesy of the Central army.” He mimicked cocking an invisible gun, and firing into the air. Blew smoke.

“The army may find out eventually. What did-”

“Don’t ask me where he is. Freedom doesn’t call for a babysitter. For all I know, he used his magic bullets the moment we turned our backs.”

He spat the idea, like it would have made a waste of his efforts. Sao didn’t think before retorting.

“You did good, Free.”

Free shot him a smaller smile and slid his gaze toward the horizon, silent.

“I don’t know when you started believing in his cause, but you were pivotal in the end. We were lucky to have you.”

“The old man was the one who got me. Years of brain decay led him to believe I was targeting him because I wanted to play protector for his girls.” Free clicked his tongue, scattering ash. “I figured, no harm in having a little fun.”

“Fun, was it?”

“I didn’t lose anything by playing along.”

Sao wondered at that. “I’m surprised you never switched up forms or faces in the process. You were always so good at shifting, you could do it without eating. It would have made your zombie chase so much easier. Or, since I know you don’t like an easy time, given you more opportunities to toy with us.”

Free slung himself over the car door with the lank flexibility of a cat. “How do you know I didn’t?”

“Rai saw you with the face you have now, under suspicious circumstances last year. Apparently you’ve kept it on the whole time, and chose to cover your face when attacking Maya and Jasmine, rather than just throwing on a different mask. Shifting. And then you let Rai shake your hand. Surely you know about the burning effects Life Fountain aura has on shapeshifters?”

“So you figured it out.”

“With Rai, I had to become aware.”

“Not him. Use your brain. Me. Did you figure out what happened to me or not?”

The path was clear. Free just had to make it sound like it had been his intention to have Sao know all along. There was something touching about that - something human. “Life Fountain aura seals a shifter where they’re burned. But you got touched by Rai’s hands and they didn’t leave a mark – because you already got burned by someone, and badly, didn’t you? You never changed over the course of the week, because you can’t. You’re stuck like this. In at least your hands and face, you’ve lost your shapeshifting power.”

The statement rang in his ears. He was triumphant; he was fearful. 

Free lowered his cigarette. “At least the hands and face; yeah, let’s say that. But I’ve gotten to appreciate the flexibility of makeup.” Free grinned and scratched his cheek, a motion Sao knew he did himself when he was agitated. Free scraped and tore the gummy layer from his face, revealing his scar - three long, dark scrapes going from chin up to cheek. They gave the illusion of a hyperextended, fanged smile. “Thought you’d like that.”

“And the family?”

“The family already knows, no need to run off and tattle. Besides, who are you to talk?” Seeing Sao's face, Free snorted - and, to Sao's shock, let the matter slide. “Yeah. It’s taken adjustment, but I’m still me. Since I can’t switch myself up anymore, I’m more ‘me’ than I’ve ever been, if you think about it.”

He wasn't upset. He’d flipped on that dreamy lilt again; that airy, artificial tenor.

“A positive way of seeing it. But I also wanted to say…” Sao paused, and wondered if he were putting anyone in danger by going on. No, the only person in danger would be himself, and he was over that. “I believe I know the Life Fountain who did this to you.”

Free didn't respond.

“He works in the hospital. He’s extremely powerful, even Rai’s mentor acknowledges this. But looking at you now - he has the same eyes, your height exactly, and your face. The haircut’s different, but I can see it.... by sheer luck, this case allowed him to tell us a story about how he’d been decapitated before.” Sao recalled Trae’s languid smile, his utter lack of bitterness. “He said a friend took his head off. He didn’t give a name or description. But I know you’re strong enough. I kept coming back to your face. A shapeshifter with a Life Fountain’s face and who can no longer transform… it was too absurd. But what other reason could there be? Free, did you really try to take on - and take the form of - a Life Fountain?”

Free’s smile had become taut, but Sao was propelled on with self destructive giddiness.

“I suppose you couldn’t have known he’d just put his head back on. Even for a Life Fountain it’s no easy feat. He said so. And yet he called you a friend. What have you been up to all these years?”

Free’s smile gave way to a scoff. “How off-script can you go?”

Sao pulled away from the pillar and deliberated taking a step closer or fleeing. He took the step. “Before you go, if I may. The family have said that they weren’t aware you were after E34. They certainly weren’t after it themselves. I should have guessed; they already have samples, there was no need to interfere with Hazel’s little project-”

“M-hmm.”

This intonation was a warning. Sao stalled, mere steps from the car door. “You went too far to just have been having fun. You had a friend involved in E34. Another friend. You said he died.” Sao raised his voice. “He must have died with regrets. There was nothing about E34’s handling, as you described it, that would have instilled in him any pride or happiness. Was this for him? Is that why you had a change of heart, and tried to save Aquila after cutting her up? Did your friend teach you the trick of the injection?”

Any remaining glee evaporated as he kept talking. Free’s face, while unable to transform, morphed through a variety of expressions, as if leafing through a catalog, searching. Maybe that’s what the constant cycling of forms had been for during their ‘masquerades’, all the smoke and shadows served as a curtain, a makeshift cloakroom. He was always searching for the right look. What he chose, he wore with confidence, but it took him time to choose. That hard-edged smirk he so often resorted to - fearsome for others, but a safety for him, with that face he wore. Because when he slackened, when his eyes softened and looked upward to dream, he looked just like Trae. The one who took his other faces away.

And had lived to tell the tale, with a smile.

“I get it now,” Sao said. “You spoke how something needs to be sacrificed in order to make a connection. You knew what you were talking about the whole time. You must have some people you care about very much. I see how much you’re willing to give-”

“This is why you don’t have a real damn friend in the world.”

Free unwound himself from the car and strode up to Sao, so Free could look down at him from his full height. Under Free's tight sheepskin jacket peeked the pouch of knives, tucked against his muscular side. Sao desperately tried to see the goodhearted, battle-tested and changed man before him.

No. He still screamed danger. Despite his ego telling him to hold, hold, hold - Sao dropped back a few steps.

“This isn’t about me,” he said. It came out more as a vaporous wheeze.

Free flicked his cigarette down between them, the ash end bouncing off Sao’s shoe. “Then why are you so worked up?”