“True magical artifacts are a rarity,” the chief said. “To imbue something with permanent effect takes an expert or a fairly infinitesimal chance of perfect, natural conditions. Then there’s the additional requirement of purity required to begin the forge.”

Sao nodded politely. This was the first time he’d encountered the chief commander of Mainline-Core face-to-face and it seemed rather rude to assume he was joking. The man had a face that reminded him of an old gravestone - stiff yet worn - not a platform where one expected to find jokes, anyhow. He had a slow, dull manner but it all struck Sao as deliberate, like a glacier grinding its way across the earth, headed singlemindedly for some low point ahead.

But then, there was his desk. A column of papers at either end resembled crumbling pillars, almost like a child’s imaginary fort. And the three grainy model elephants lined along the edge of the desk as if they were traversing a cliff, having upturned the chief’s nameplate in the process. They looked handmade - whittled? - and appeared to be a little family unit, one large, one medium, one small.

And then there was the cushion. A little patchwork thing, also clearly handmade. The first thing Zu did upon sitting down was tug the cushion out of a drawer, set it on the table and lay the bell on it, softly as one would a newborn kitten. Then he stared down at his subordinates with such grim force that nobody spoke for a good minute or two.

Perhaps he had some fantastical inner mind?

“So this is some sort of artifact that can cast enchantments?” Sao asked.

“Magic wands,” Rai murmured.

“In a manner of speaking.” Zu grunted. "The effect of a single weapon tends to be specialized. But in addition to basic will to be melded with a proper handler - which can extend even to uses without magical aptitude." He folded his massive hands. "The weapon's specified effect depends on a variety of conditions: primarily the ore, and following that, a weaponsmith that guides the forge.” 

“Weaponsmiths came later,” Charmion spoke through a mouth full of gum. “The original method of obtaining one was to have an ally spontaneously transmute on death. Reinforced in the heat of war - give up your life to arm a friend with a weapon far stronger than natural wood or steel. This was when combatants were typically well-versed in both weaponry and magic.”

Sao’s eye drifted to Zu’s small silver axe. “Is that how you got…?” It hung in a bespoke silken pouch behind his desk like a baby in a carrier, another testament to the chief’s humor, or whatever he had. The eyelike carvings on the steely surface regarded them with far more interest than Zu did. Sao felt compelled to smile.

“Mine was a commission from a forge - most items of his nature, in the last two hundred years, had to be sourced from specialists. Not spontaneous.” From Zu's mouth, spontaneous sounded like profanity. “Since the inception of firearms, nearly all magical tools that you will encounter have been purpose-built. However, this Bell appears… rough. There’s no crafter’s signature, meaning it’s likely of the older variety. Forged from combatants in battle centuries ago.”

“Wait,” Rai grunted. “Were you being literal? Pure bodies and minds sacrificing themselves - so that rock is really made out an alien, like Sigma said?”

“Alien?” Zu’s brow lowering put Sao in mind of a tectonic shift. “No.”

“Okay, that means it’s a person then. A dead person.” Rai dropped into a chair, arms crossed.

Zu ignored him to gently lift and turn over the Bell on its cushion.

“Can you get them back?” Sao murmured.

“I’m sorry?”

He really did sound sorry, but his face was an unmoving furrow, so deep it was hard to believe care could be found anywhere in it. The effect was unnerving. Sao wondered how it worked for him in the field.

“The soul, if not the body that went into it,” Sao said slowly, hoping he was sounding earnest rather than condescending. “Can you get them back?”

Charmion, posted at the door to bar their way out, gnashed her teeth at him like a guard dog. “Of course not, if the mutation and forge were undone that easily, then what’s the point of it having happened at all?”

“How do you know all this?” Rai asked.

“I took part in a few smithing rituals myself.” Charmion clicked her teeth together and shifted her axe onto her other shoulder. Rai stared. With her inexplicable confidence after the ordeal (and hair loosely tousled, revealing what looked like black streaks on her scalp) Sao could not help but stare too.  “Family tradition. My own great-grandma here” - she patted her axe - “wanted nothing more than to become a heirloom, travel the world. Sealing them up right suspends them in their final state - and it can’t happen without willingness - so when you think about it, it’s a guaranteed happy afterlife.” She hefted the back of the blade onto  her palm. “Don’t look so horrified, this stuff isn’t happening on the daily.” 

Rai’s eyes only widened further.

Despite the comic show of disgust, Sao knew the same thought hung on both their minds. They should have accepted her offer to run magic tests of Bell from the start.

Charmion set her axe - her grandmother? - back against the wall. “What I wanna know, is how an undocumented weapon of that caliber got such extensive, unchecked use in the hands of a civilian.”

“He got it from an ex-military vet named Desmond A______.” Rai’s tone was hard.

“Military. If it was a heirloom, that explains part of it.” Zu rotated the bell again in its little bed. “Seventy odd years ago, the military began to seek out blessed weapon owners for recruitment. The recruitment specifics were public. But usage was poorly documented and experimental in the beginning. Complacency on behalf of the program. Stricter assessment and recording did not begin until a certain... internal incident.”

Rai threw his hands up in a swipe of blue. “And you can’t tell us what that incident entailed, because that might shame your precious lunch buddies, is that it?”

Zu didn’t answer.

“Typical.” Rai slouched back down into his chair. “I bet you and that Desmond character would have gotten along well. He was part of special ops too. On-base duties.”

Zu only had eyes for the bell.

“Torture squad, they called ‘em.”

“I realize the implication.”

“And that man retired, moved into a community known for mass-fostering, and used that fucking tool of war,” Rai jabbed a finger at the desk, finally drawing Zu’s eyes up, “on kids that he just couldn’t resist getting handsy with.”

Stiffly, Charmion pulled away from the entrance so she could nudge the office door closed.

Rai folded his arms. “That’s what happened to Sigma when he was young.”

“That is serious.” 

“Add in the fact that Sigma somehow obtained the Bells the night Desmond happened to go missing in the woods, and it sounds like a little more than just ‘serious’.” Rai scowled. “There are ‘serious’ signs of abuse in the foster kids living on Judgment street to this day.”

“We have reason to believe that there’s some manner of coverup,” Sao said. His voice wanted to recede down his throat. But better his job was lost than Rai’s, wasn’t it? “Desmond’s house had to have been searched after his disappearance, and in his basement there was fairly solid evidence of his misconduct around children. The military cooperated with police in the search for his body, but found nothing and declared it a suicide. It seems there were efforts taken to prevent anyone from delving further into the man’s activities.”

Zu turned to Charmion. “Has Sigma been found yet?”

She shook her head. “Suspicions are that he’s headed to Bell Lodge. Some officers are posted at the entrance.”

The door swung back open, cushioned by Zu’s mountainous trench coat hanging from the rack behind it. For lack of more pleasant thoughts, Sao wondered if slamming doors bothered Zu.

Raph limped in. “Send some guys to Judgment street too.” 

Charmion gave him space to sag past her and toward the seats. Sao found himself holding his breath with each lurch. Raph had lost consciousness following the magical purge of his person, and EMTs had been called. He’d woken up numb and stiff, but swearing a blue streak.

Raph flopped into one of the free chairs. “Sigma told me he was going to apologize to somebody. He and his foster parents had a spat yesterday. It makes sense… Chief, I know I should stay the hell out of it but I need to know - what the hell did that thing do to me?”

Perhaps glad to be free of Rai’s rancor for a moment, Zu shifted his attention back to the Bell. “The weapon, as suggested, and knowing the previous owner’s line of work, appears to be capable of inducing a trance. For immobilization and intelligence extraction, that was likely sufficient. Though the state you were in seemed somewhat more severe.”

“I was fucking hypnotized.” Raph scraped his forehead, as if trying to penetrate his skull for a firmer grasp of his thoughts. Sao sympathized with that. “I saw the well and the farm. And those Grey alien things, at least, that’s what I thought they were. And for some reason, when Sigma said to shoot myself after it was all over, it seemed like a great idea.” His hands dropped, and he stared at his palms.

“Full mental control is likely impossible. But to combine certain visions with suggestions can increase the effectiveness of the latter.” Zu contemplated over the Bell's rotation. “It’s not unlike hypnotherapy, though the ability to conjure illusions is an additional tool in induction.”

“That’s what he compared it to.” Rai hooked a thumb toward Sao, who wished he could dissolve into thin air like the ghost child of his memories. “Incidentally, Sao also resisted the influence of the things when he visited Bell a few years back.”

Sao smiled painfully, four pairs of eyes drilling into him. “A dinner organized by an old colleague. I think it was an attempt at recruitment. Four other members of the records department who were also invited did end up becoming residents. The organizer was Delta.”

“You were there?” Raph looked like he might leap out of his seat, but couldn’t quite muster the energy. “Fucking knew it. You look like one of them. But you’re the one who got away, so… kudos to that.” He smiled. For the first time since Sao had met him, he looked relaxed.

“If it was your first exposure, then perhaps there wasn’t enough time for the trance to take hold.” Zu scratched his chin. “As with many magics of prolonged effect, several exposures, one a long one, may be required. And there’s the matter of human will, the natural preventive measure toward invasion. The guards entranced today were taken by surprise and despite extreme initial actions, recovered quickly. But familiarity with the target would help deliver an illusion tailored to a victim’s defenses, both lowering the guard and deepening the trance in one step. That illicit visit last week,” Zu targeted Raph without looking at him. “Is likely what led you to the situation you found yourself in today.”

Raph's expression melted and he sank low in his chair.

“On the other hand,” Charmion said, “overexposure can bring the thing full circle. Too many uses, too extreme of a hit, and the victim might start to suspect something’s wrong and break free. It’s a balancing act. Even a kid might be able to overcome… of course, to use it on such vulnerable people in the first place...” Her words tapered sharply, rather than simply fading. The edge could have broken skin.

Sao shuddered. “You’re theorizing how Sigma got his hands on the Bells. He’s a victim here.”

“Even so,” Raph said. “When a victim breaks down, it can create a whole lot more of the same. He entranced all those people at Bell, hell, maybe Kiria and Delta too. He probably thought he was safe, but then he began sleeping around. Then he wound up in therapy, digging up a past he’d put behind him and now he’s losing control. That’s what I was afraid of all along. It’s what sends them into a spiral.” He scraped at his scalp. “I was under the trance at the time, so take this as you will. Sigma told me he came for me, but something I did threw him off. He took that as a rejection. Afterward he admitted more or less that he couldn’t command me to go with him, like you said. He said there was only one thing he could force people to do. I didn’t think too hard about it until now, but -” He pointed at Rai. “Smart guy. What’s one strangely specific thing Sigma’s managed to make certain people do, even when he’s far away, even hours after their last interaction? What started all this?”

The shadows under Rai’s eyes darkened. “He can command a suicide.”

Even Zu and Charmion seemed at a loss for words in the moment.

“And you know what, it’s almost justified,” Rai spat. “His trusted babysitter drew him in with his only interest, outer space - and used a fucking torture device to keep him still and quiet. Not just in the moment - the guy guilted Sigma to silence with a bunch of other ‘suggestions’ too. Stay still and think positive when a disgusting monster puts his hands on and under your skin. Be a good boy so the Bells, your only friends who chose you over everyone else, won’t leave you forever.” Rai slammed his palms against the armrests. “If I had to pinpoint where the illusion began to crack, it was probably when Sigma woke up with bloodied underwear the day he was called to go on a camping trip with his abuser, four kids waiting for him just outside the room. He hid the evidence of his shame and made sure things changed the following night. Even if it meant throwing the curtains over a few other kids.”

Sao picked up. “Sigma was led to believe he was a violent and cruel child who owed it to others to be good and compliant. A way for Desmond to control his waking conscience. His foster parents effectively confirmed that Sigma was always timid, never unruly, though his confidence improved since Desmond’s disappearance. What worries me is Sigma is, to this day, preoccupied with a command to do good. In an almost adolescent sense.” Sao folded his hands tightly over his lap. “He believes it will ‘save’ the Bells.”

Zu had barely moved. “Do you believe he was truthful with that?”

Raph raised his hand, limply. “I do. He’s on the brink of remembering everything, but if he did, I think he’d have let up on the star imagery when he used it on me.”

Sao nodded. “Sigma isn't always explicit, but he's fairly open. I think he wants to believe in the system. He admitted to us about cheating on his partner and going to therapy. He was rather forthcoming about his history and encouraged us to visit his old foster home. If he remembered everything, was aiming for retribution, I think he would have told us more. But he seems to have...” He frowned, recalling Indigo’s cries over the phone, the apparent delivery of the name via dreams. “He seems to have subconciously let his memories of Desmond spread through Bell’s residents. I think he’s still confused. Or at least, conflicted.”

“If the Greys are his mental representation of the old lecher, that’s what he showed me too.” Raph looked at his feet. “He’s delusional.”

Again, Zu ran his hand over the bell. “That is serious.” Sao found his irritation building alongside Rai’s.

“Chief, just say it like it is,” Rai growled.

Zu did not, so Charmion took over. “If it can do something as extreme as command someone to kill themselves, this... thing is probably one of the dangerous forms of a blessed weapon possible. In the hands of someone relapsing from the effect of the weapon itself, that’s a hell of a dangerous loop.”

Outside, the phone on the reception desk buzzed. Charmion went to receive it, pulling the axe along with her.

“It is serious,” Zu said again.

Rai clapped his hands over his own face. For what felt like an age, there was nothing to hear but his groaning.

“Ms. Pine is correct,” Zu lifted the Bell from its cushion. “These Bells cannot be permitted to remain in use. You say there are more of them?”

“Three, aside from this one,” Rai replied.

“They need to be shut down. That is the priority.” Setting the Bell back, he faced his subordinates with a heady glare, laced with some undefinable sadness. “The two guards Sigma manipulated relapsed violently with minimal contact. And Raph, entranced under an hour, had to be resuscitated.”

Raph said nothing.

 Zu reached over to his axe “Sigma may have been spending the last 20 years of his life in a decaying trance. Removal will be a… delicate process.” He lifted it from its silky hammock and placed it in a padded holster on his belt. To think, Rai had been right. A magic wand instead of a gun, who’d have though? Sao would have laughed had he not felt like screaming.

The door was thrown back for the second time that meeting. Charmion was wearing a scowl that put Rai’s to shame. “Sigma had a back road in and out of Bell Lodge’s grounds. He came and went. We got a call from a resident he ‘left behind’. Apparently he was acting strange, gathered as many as were willing to follow him and drove off again.”

Sao’s lungs tightened. “Were Kiria and Delta there?”

Charmion shook her head. “We aren’t sure exactly who went with him, but the witness said he took around twelve people.”

“All in one car?” Rai stood.

“He swapped Raph’s car for some kind of van he was keeping near the back of the compound.”

Raph slithered upright. His knees quaked. “Where’s he headed? Did he apologize to any of them? No - looks like his business isn’t done. Have they mobilized some guys over at Judgment Street yet?”

“You’re off the case, and any other for the foreseeable future, Raph.”  Charmion bounced the axe on her shoulder, nerves twitching. “Judgment’s district station can’t be trusted after they allowed Sigma to transfer himself, so we’re sending our own squad to the Judgment house.” She began biting at a chipped nail, staring ahead, at the Bell, as if she could menace out answers with a look. “He’s taking the interchange. We’ll get him in time. That’s if...”

“If he’s even headed there.” Rai pulled his coat over his shoulders. “The fastest road from Bell to Judgment Street is the highway. The interchange would take him too far west, he’d have to circle back. But we do know of one place in Sigma’s memories that is out west.”

The company scattered except for Zu, who seemed incapable of such lightness. He wrapped up the Bell with untold care and pulled on his colossal trench coat with all the urgency of molasses.

Rai was out the door, patting himself down for his keys. “Drive carefully,” Zu warned him.

Fat chance. Sao looked back once more before leaving. Perhaps thinking he was finally alone, Zu had a hand braced against his axe on his side, and appeared to be talking to it. Quickly but gently, like a parent would a child. The misplaced show of tenderness of his thick, tired face was terrifying.

Once again, Sao almost laughed. But he could not help but wonder what the axe - the body and soul of some pure individual who gave their life to take such a form - was taking it.

Better small talk than silence, he supposed.

Sao hurried off.