12. Land of Dreams

Aaron parked along the North District’s bustling boardwalk, one of the most popular hangouts in the city, sprawling with shops, bars and restaurants. They could see the beach from the car, the scent of salt and waste filling the air. While the microscopic life of the ocean still provided oxygen to the planet, humans had failed miserably to respect it. Aaron had held Morgan’s hand the entire drive, only letting go to leave the vehicle. He bounced on the sidewalk with a hand outstretched, and Morgan took it with a bright smile.

Aaron briefly considered his mental state. He should’ve been weirded out. The rumors were true. He was on a date with an Ancient. The actual Morgan le Fay. He was holding hands with a witch of legend. Not just any legend, either. One of his all-time favorites. He was riding the highest of highs.

This Morgan, though—his Morgan—was so much better than the tales. He had always found the fickle enchantress to be… well, enchanting, and he may have even been tempted by a female counterpart, but he was certain no one could have entranced him the way this man had. He was overjoyed at the thought that he and he alone was being allowed this glimpse into his witch’s heart.

“A moonlit stroll along the beach then?” Morgan glanced down at the seaside.

“Uh... we can if you like,” Aaron said hesitantly, “But I had something a little more... active in mind.”

Morgan cocked his head with a smirk. “The beach over the station for that? Really? We’ll never get the sand out of our-”

Aaron quickly put a hand over Morgan’s mouth, feeling a heated giggle against his palm. “Not what I meant. But if you don’t stop teasing, I might have to change my plans.”

Morgan pouted as Aaron withdrew his hand. “Well now I’m torn. Do I keep teasing or not?”

Aaron laughed, feeling brave enough to lean in and kiss him—before chickening out at the last second and moving to his cheek.

Really? You were right there! He’s joking about sex, Jones! You have more than the fucking green light!

He turned away, trying to hide his frustration as he pulled Morgan along the sidewalk. They passed shops that were still open, despite the late hour. Very few businesses ever locked up here; some of them not wanting to lose out on customers, and others afraid of being broken into while unattended.

Aaron kept turning back to his date, fretting over his romantic blunder while they walked, and concerned that their destination might lack any appeal to someone like Morgan. “So... don’t judge me, but I’m a bit of a nerd.”

“You?” Morgan’s words dripped with sarcasm, “The law enforcing protector of the people, awarded Etna City’sMost Charming Smile of the Year six years running?”

Aaron shot him a puzzled look. “I was? Is that a real thing?” He certainly wasn’t aware of the achievement, but the papers did tend to do whatever they liked, and he very much doubted that the precinct would’ve clued him in to any publicity. They weren’t fond of any attention that might give the officers an ego. Lexi would’ve been all over the opportunity to tease him for something like that, however.

“You’re so pretty.” Morgan snickered.

Little imp.

Aaron rolled his eyes, laughing. “Anyway, smartass-”

Morgan shot him a proud smirk.

“Before I joined the force, I needed an outlet,” Aaron continued, “I used to get so angry with what little influence I had here. I wanted to help people. I wanted to make a difference, but the more I thought about it, the more depressed I would get.”

“If you’re taking me to a shooting range, I can promise you that the one in the Manor is better. And my bed is like... right there. Just saying.”

Aaron shook his head, grinning as they turned a corner. They came to a sudden stop in front of a large building that looked like a repurposed warehouse. The windows that ran from the ground to the roof were littered with so many different lights that it would blind anyone staring for too long. The bright, red sign above the door read Boardwalk Blast - Games, Food amp; Fun!

Morgan turned to him, blinking away the burn of the lights. “We’re going to play games?”

“Oh, not just any game.” Aaron opened the door for him with a wink.

The smell of musty carpet and grease overwhelmed the senses as they stepped inside. Hundreds of antique machines were spread across the bright, tacky carpeting, riddled with flashing lights and making cheery, electronic sounds. A few of them were occupied with people of all ages, tapping buttons and throwing objects at highlighted targets.

Aaron slung an arm around Morgan’s shoulders, directing him toward the back of the building. A long counter spanned the far wall with a single, very bored-looking attendant wearing a blue visor and a collared shirt. The attendant perked up immediately at the sight of Aaron, but the man’s face sank when he noticed Morgan.

Oh, luxe. Ricky’s going to be petty. This should be good.

“Uh, found someone who can keep up with you, have ya, Jones?”

Aaron looked Morgan over in consideration. “Oh, I don’t know about that.”

Morgan huffed a laugh. “I feel like I should be defending myself, but I haven’t a clue what I’m doing here.”

Ricky chuckled, speaking only to Aaron, “Throwin’ ’em into the deep end, eh?”

“I have a feeling he might be a natural talent,” Aaron said ominously as he held his hand over the reader to pay, “Oh we’ll need a headset too. No implants,” he added, tilting his head toward Morgan.

Ricky gave Morgan a condescending squint, and Aaron very casually said, “Oh, by the way, Ricky. This is Morgan. Morgan Fell.”

The man looked between the two of them, his eyes growing wider with each glance. “Oh. Um. Sorry, Mister Fell! Let me get that headset for you. Be right back!”

He dashed into the room behind the desk as Aaron and Morgan shared a silent snicker.

“You didn’t have to traumatize the poor guy,” Morgan said quietly.

“Eh.” Aaron shrugged. “He was being rude to you. Should’ve expected it. He worked up the courage to ask me out once, but I shot him down.”

“Aww,” Morgan teased, “Now I really feel bad for him. Poor Ricky.”

Aaron chuckled as Ricky trotted back to them. “I bet you do.”

Morgan shook his head with a smirk. Aaron passed him the headset Ricky had returned with—a clunky pair of goggles with speakers built into the sides—and Ricky pressed a button beneath the counter. A buzzing sound filled the air, releasing a large metal door beside them.

“Kick his ass, Morgan! Somebody needs to knock him down a peg!” Ricky cheered after them.

“Wow,” Aaron droned, “My one fan and you’ve already snaked him away.”

They stepped into a massive, open room with cement floors and corrugated steel walls. He hadn’t been here in months, though he highly doubted anyone had managed to outrank him. He had held the top scores, the best equipment, and the most renown for near a decade.

“First of all, his suggestion was appalling.” Morgan tilted his head, staring intently at Aaron’s backside. “I wouldn’t dream of harming a thing of such beauty.”

Aaron craned around to look at his own ass before shooting Morgan a coy grin. “Is there a second of all?”

“Second of all, you show me these skills of yours in whatever this is you’ve dragged me into-” Morgan slipped the headset over his eyes. “And you might just earn yourself another fan.”

Aaron smiled wide at that thought. His moody witch was going to love or hate this. Either way, he would derive some enjoyment from it. He tapped his comm several times, pulling up the list of nearby server connections, selecting one that read R-O-R.

With that tap, his implant extended its reach to both eyes—an upgrade used for gaming, personal vids, and navigation—and the room faded to black. Aaron turned to where Morgan had stood, the overlay picking up a small twinkle of light in place of his lithe figure. He reached out, selecting the glittering space with the point of a finger.

The screen read Player-BB1, along with a list of interactions.

He poked the one to join Morgan’s session, and a whimsical feminine voice spoke. “Your arrival has been expected, traveler. The road ahead is treacherous, and the hour is late.” Small shimmers of light appeared in front of his eyes. “But fear not. For every shadow cast, light must shine.”

“Cheesy,” Morgan groaned somewhere in the dark.

“Hey, come on now. You’re ruining my immersion,” Aaron chided, only partly joking. He hadn’t experienced the opening cutscene in a long while.

The shards of light danced and sparkled, emitting twinkling sounds that began to resonate. The notes swelled together, and the lights flared, transitioning into a rising image of a medieval landscape of sprawling, green hills lined with forests, a long road dotted with carriages and people on horseback, and a large town with a great, stone castle at its heart.

Aaron would never get over how realistic this world was, even though the software hadn’t been updated in the past few years. When the developer folded, the game had pretty much been left in the hands of its player base, which had allowed all manner of custom implementations—none of which had done anything but improve it in his opinion.

The notes of the title sequence hit a crescendo, and words formed from pillars of light.

“Realms of Reverie”

“Okay,” Aaron called over, scanning the terrain map, “We have to pick a starting point. Do we go easy mode, or do you want a little challenge?”

“Throw me into the deep end,” Morgan mocked.

Aaron chuckled, tapping a dark part of the southern forest, and the screen zoomed in, gliding across the landscape. It sank beneath the trees and settled into a clearing.

The sleeves of his shirt vanished under a pair of ornate, golden gauntlets. His shoes and slacks were hidden beneath matching greaves, and his chest was covered in a surcoat of black and white, embroidered with gold thread. A bright, glowing sword was sheathed at his hip, and the name Oliveron the Omnipotent bobbed above his head.

Morgan snickered across the way, looking exactly like himself, wearing a boring linen shirt and pants, still every bit as gorgeous. “I’d accuse you of compensating for something, but I felt differently while we were dancing.”

Oh, kill me. Kill me now.

Aaron groaned, “Oh my gods, I hate you.”

“Well, that’s obviously not true.”

“Name your character or that’s the closest you’re getting to my dick tonight,” Aaron snapped, entirely unsure he could make good on the threat.

Morgan cackled. “Um. How might one do that, exactly?”

“Oh, right. Sorry,” Aaron said quickly, “You say, ‘Input character ID,’ and then say the name. You can correct it if it gets the spelling wrong.”

Morgan hummed in thought. “I don’t know what to use. Help.”

Aaron chuckled. “I just combined my middle and first names.”

Morgan’s eyes flitted to the top of his head. “Your middle name is Oliver?”

“Yep.”

“Aww. Aaron Oliver Jones. I love that.”

“Thanks,” Aaron said, his face heating, “What’s yours?”

“Don’t have one.”

“Really? Neither of your personas?”

“Nope,” Morgan said, “Wasn’t really a thing back then, you just got named after your land, your family, or your profession. Or, you know, your affinity with magical beings. And I never bothered with one for my cover.”

Aaron hummed pensively. “Okay, then I’ll give you one.”

“You’re going to give me a middle name?”

“Yep,” he said, far too certain of his naming prowess, “Let’s see... Morgan... Archibald Fell.”

“Wow,“ Morgan droned, “You do hate me.”

Aaron laughed. “Okay, okay. How about... Corvus? It means ‘raven.’ You have a thing for them, right?” he asked, recalling the tales his mother had read to him hundreds of times before bed, along with an image of a dark-haired goddess bearing a large, majestic bird on her outstretched hand.

Morgan sputtered, “I- I do. Ever since I was a boy. How did you know that?”

“I know the stories, Morgan. I’ve loved them since I was a kid,” Aaron said, “Leave it to a nerd like me to fall in- for a living character from my favorite legend.”

Shit! What did you just DO? WHY? He’s going to leave. He’s out. Run from the creep that popped wood and falls head over heels faster than a bullet leaves a gun. Just go. Leave me here to die of shame.

Morgan didn’t move, but when he didn’t seem capable of forming words, Aaron asked, “Do- do you like it?”

Morgan took a breath, then said, “Input character ID. Corvusan.”

Okay. Speaking. Good. Not running. Good.

The name appeared above his head, spelled correctly on the first go, and only then did he take notice of the drab starting outfit he’d been covered with. He gripped the starting weapon, a basic, wooden training sword with a pout on his lips.

“Well, this is garbage,” he whined, inspecting his clothes, “And I think I’d prefer to be naked.”

“Later.” Aaron laughed. “We’ll get you some nicer gear as we play, but it’ll take a lot of grinding to get you anything like what I’m wearing.”

“I stand by my previous statement,” Morgan said, eyeing Aaron’s gear.

They moved together from the clearing and into the forest, Morgan following Aaron’s lead. Choosing the forest over the town outskirts meant that the opening quests would be more brutal, so Aaron wanted to make sure his little newbie would have a head start on his level and stats before undertaking those. Overgrown spiders and rodents assailed them from behind trees and bushes, and Aaron dispatched them with single blows. This was the place where he got to show off. After several kills, a fanfare played in his ear and he received a message that said, “Corvusan reached level 2!”

“But-” Morgan sputtered, “I didn’t even do anything.”

Aaron laughed. “We’re in a party. You get experience when I kill things.”

Morgan scowled. “That sounds like cheating.”

“I’ll let you kill the next one.” Aaron smiled at him.

Morgan held his sad, wooden sword out as they walked deeper into the wood. A loud rustling came from their left and a howl filled the air. A great pair of red eyes gleamed from the brush, and before Morgan could react, a shadow lunged. In a flash he managed to sidestep the wolf, narrowly avoiding its full attack. It nicked his arm, however, and his health bar dipped ever so slightly. He rounded on the beast, and it growled ferociously, hair bristling along its back.

“Want some help?” Aaron shot him a cocky smile from the sidelines, leaning against a tree.

“Oh, you are just loving having the tables turned in here, aren’t you?” Morgan grinned with a forward lunge. The wolf leapt again, and Morgan dropped into a graceful slide that carried him beneath the beast. He raised his sword upward as the wolf hurtled over him, cutting through its abdomen from its throat to its hind quarters. Morgan turned on the ground as the creature landed before popping like a balloon.

Okay, so maybe he can show off here too.

“Corvusan reach level 3!”

He turned to Aaron, confused. “Why did that only take one kill?”

Aaron beamed with a shrug, leading them onward. “You did all the work, so you got more out of it. Check your bag, see if you got any items.”

After being taught how to open his inventory, Morgan gave the command with a few flicks of his finger. Aaron scouted around, seeking out their next target as Morgan scrolled through the list of dropped items, making adorable faces of disgust at the random body parts from their fallen foes. He paused, tapped once, and a hooded, wolfskin cloak appeared around his shoulders, covering his head.

“Oh, my gods.” Aaron’s eyes bulged. “You look so cute!”

“It’s just an animal skin.” Morgan furrowed his brow, examining the pelt between his fingers.

“It’s got a hood with little ears!” Aaron gushed.

Morgan laughed, giving an unsteady twirl, allowing Aaron to fawn over him. They fought deeper into the forest, now taking turns killing enemies. Aaron explained that eventually there would be stronger foes that would require them to work together, but it would be some time before his character was strong enough to take them on.

After another hour of playtime, Morgan was level ten with leather boots, gloves, and trousers to go with his ensemble. He finally ditched the training sword for a simple iron blade after he managed to dispatch a goblin that had set up camp along a riverbank. Aaron went over the loot system with him, equipment classifications ranging from common to legendary, taking a moment to flex his hard-earned gear.

When Aaron was satisfied with Morgan’s basic equipment, they began following the main quest marker to the edge of the woods. Morgan seemed more than happy to let Aaron teach him everything he could think of as they walked, fighting enemy after enemy. Despite the glaring differences from Morgan’s days in what was probably the closest thing a fantasy game’s setting could mirror in the real world, he looked like he was genuinely enjoying himself.

A red warning message appeared in Aaron’s vision as they reached the edge of the forest. “Five minutes of playtime remaining! Please make your way to the nearest safe zone!”

He took Morgan’s hand, a sensation he could actually feel. “Did you have fun?”

“I did.” Morgan beamed, dropping his head into a small bow. “Thank you for escorting me, Ser Oliveron. I know not what a lowly knave such as myself would have done without you.”

Aaron broke into a bright smile. “I am always at your service, my fair Corvusan. If you ever have need of my sword, you have only but to ask.”

“Oh, I have a mighty need for your sword.” Morgan grinned devilishly, making Aaron blush again, both in-game and out as he stepped forward to remove the headset from Morgan’s face.

The sea air was a refreshing chill against Aaron’s skin as they stepped back onto the boardwalk. R.O.R. was no joke, having to maneuver in real time to match game mechanics, but he knew his date would be up to the task. His heart was light, pleased as punch that Morgan had shown such an interest in something he thought would make him look like a dork. Maybe he had only feigned interest for Aaron’s benefit, but the night had been a dream all the same.

They walked hand-in-hand to the ledge overlooking the ocean. Morgan shot him a smile that dazzled as he leaned forward against the metal banister, that silver stare sparkling in the moonlight. Aaron beamed right back at him, resting his hands on the rail on either side of Morgan’s body.

He gently nudged the side of Morgan’s head with his own, breathing deep to get another whiff of that blissful scent, still noting the leather on him even without his jacket. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

Morgan leaned into him, making his chest thrum with excitement. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Aaron didn’t suspect he would, but the statement filled him with delight. He pressed a kiss into Morgan’s hair, earning a soft hum in reply, and he pried himself away to trot across the boardwalk. He broke into a slight run, wanting nothing more than to return to his witch’s side, but grabbing an ice cream from the sweet, old man that ran his tiny cart of confections around the corner after the arcade was a bit of a tradition—something he and his mom used to do every chance they had.

The short, graying man wore a toothy grin at Aaron’s approach. “‘Ey! The Omnipotent, here to claim his bounty! How ya doin’ muh boy?”

Aaron smiled wide. “I’m awesome, Mister Reynolds. How’ve you been?”

“Oh, you know, livin’ the dream!” the man chortled, “One black cherry, comin’ right up!”

“Actually…” He had no idea what Morgan liked. Did he even like ice cream? Daphne said he had a huge sweet-tooth.

Daphne.

He tapped out a quick message.

lt;lt;lt; Officer Jones: “What kind of ice cream does he like?”

It’s ice cream. He won’t care.

The response was almost instant.

gt;gt;gt; Daphne Davis: “Strawberry! How’s it going?”

Aaron’s face was getting sore from smiling as he shot back.

lt;lt;lt; Officer Jones: “Incredible!”

He returned his focus to Mister Reynolds. “And a strawberry please.”

The man’s brows raised with a soft chuckle, passing him the cone of black cherry. “Was wonderin’ what had you so rosy in the cheeks! Who’s the lucky one? They good enough for a fine fella such as yourself?”

Aaron laughed. “Yeah. Yeah, he is.”

Mister Reynolds handed him the strawberry, bobbing his head. “Well, go on then, boy! This one’s on me, get back to your guy!”

He nodded, turning away with a snicker. “Thanks, Mister Reynolds!” Normally, he would have insisted on paying, ice cream being a rather expensive luxury if you wanted the good stuff, but he was far too eager to do as the man said.

A raven cawed somewhere in the distance, catching his eye as it flew off over the ocean. He turned back onto the main boardwalk, and the air escaped his lungs.

There was Morgan, standing in the breeze, enveloped in the light of the moon, the stars glittering behind him like a celestial painting. If the legends were accurate, the gods of his age had often been mere men, lifted up for their deeds and revered into immortality. His tale often depicted him as such, and right now Aaron could understand why. Morgan le Fay, Morganna, Morgant—and in one version Anna—none of their likenesses measured up.

“Strawberry…” Morgan gasped, taking the cone, “My favorite. How’d you know?”

“Maybe I just get you.” Aaron chuckled, taking a lick of his own ice cream and bumping shoulders with his date. “Or maybe I messaged Daphne.”

Morgan laughed through a mouthful. “Tha’s cheatang.”

Aaron smiled wide, leaning into him. “Courting Morgan Fell is a quest of the highest difficulty rating. No man would manage without a guide.”

Morgan chuckled, shaking his head. “Nerd.”

“A nerd you let take you out to dinner, danced with, even let him nerd you up yourself.” Aaron grinned at him. “What does that make you?”

“A sucker for a pretty smile and big, blue eyes,” Morgan said, laughing.

“I’ll take it,” Aaron said with a shrug, drinking in the adoration on the man’s face, trying not to lose it as he watched his tongue lapping up ice cream. They ate in silence for a time—a welcome, peaceful silence—as they gazed out over the water. Morgan finished off his dessert, licking those soft, pink lips and driving Aaron wild, then leaned over to rest his head on his shoulder.

“Thank you,” he whispered, “For tonight.”

“The pleasure was all mine,” Aaron said before swallowing the last of his own cone, “Hey, can I ask you something?”

Morgan rolled his eyes. “I think I can safely say at this point that I am incapable of keeping secrets from you.”

Aaron puffed a laugh through his nose. “Okay. Why… why did you stay tethered to me? Why do it in the first place?”

Morgan’s face shifted abruptly. “I… I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Aaron’s brows pinched together.

“I just…” Morgan huffed, “I knew the only way we were getting out of those tunnels together was if you had the means to defend yourself. I knew better than to think I could take all those things on and protect you at the same time. I know I can be a stubborn ass, but I know battle strategy.”

Aaron nodded. “And?”

Morgan sighed heavily. “And I stayed tethered to you… because I wanted to, alright? I thought about severing the link, but…”

“You couldn’t do it.” A cocky grin crept up the side of Aaron’s cheek, and he poked Morgan in the arm tauntingly. “You like me.”

“Shut up.” Morgan smiled, giving him a playful shove. He lifted a hand, reaching toward Aaron’s face.

Aaron’s breath caught in his chest.

Oh, gods. This is it.

Morgan gently grazed his cheek with his knuckles, sending a chill across his skin. A single thumb swept below his lip, teasing. Morgan leaned back, pressed his own thumb between his lips and pulled it away with a gentle pop, grinning. He’d wiped a spot of ice cream from Aaron’s face.

That’s almost like kissing, right? Ugh. Quit stalling and just do it yourself, you big baby!

Aaron released a heated breath. “You’re going to be the death of me, Morgan Fell.”

Morgan chuckled wickedly. “All evidence to the contrary, Officer Jones. I’ve saved that sexy ass twice now.”

“Hey, I saved you a dozen times in the forest tonight!” Aaron huffed indignantly.

Morgan nodded, lacing his fingers into Aaron’s. “That you did. My knight… in ridiculous shining armor.”

Aaron laughed. “It’s pretty ostentatious, huh?”

“That’s certainly one word for it.”

“Not that fancy back in Camelot?”

“That is not a word for what Ser Oliveron wears.” Morgan grinned, giving his hand a squeeze. “No, our armor was pretty basic. I did wear a gorgeous, silk cloak over mine, though. Purple, of course.”

“Wait-” Aaron shot him a puzzled look. “You had armor? You were a soldier?”

“I-” Morgan jerked back, startled by his own words. He reached for his head, brows pulled tight in confusion. “I… think I was. I remember… battles. So many battles. I don’t… I forgot…”

“Hey,” Aaron said gently, wrapping an arm around his back to pull him close, “It’s okay.”

Morgan shuddered, nestling into Aaron’s side. “Sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, Morgan.” Aaron smiled, kissing the side of his head. “That is so cool, though. I used to make believe I was a Knight of the Round Table. I think that’s what pulled me into Reverie when it came out. I was only fourteen, and it made me feel like I had some control… like I could make a difference, but…”

“Realms of Reverie…” Morgan whispered, “A land of dreams.”

“Yeah…” Aaron said sadly, staring off into the distance, “I guess that’s why I got so interested in you... at first. There you were, living by your own rules, actually making a fucking difference here when it’s what I’d been dreaming of all along. You gave me hope.”

Morgan pulled away, still holding his hand. “Aaron, I told you. That’s not me.”

“It-” Aaron’s brow furrowed, searching his face. He had thought the guy would be willing to let go of the act by now. He had thought maybe they’d opened up to one another enough that he could drop this uncaring, selfish disguise he wore like armor. “It is you, Morgan.”

“It’s not!” He pulled his hand away, his expression darkening. “I would love to tell you that I’m out there on the streets, being some hero. I’d love to tell you that the shit I do is selfless, righteous, and true. But everything I do, every day of my life… that’s for me.”

Why can’t you see it? What is so scary about being a decent person? Using the power you have to help others?

“Seriously?” Aaron shook his head, staring. “All those criminals you took care of, the people you avenged-”

“So what?” Morgan spat, backing away, “If I take out a few twisted fucks along the way, who cares? They had it coming! This city is trash, Aaron. I do what I have to just to stomach this cesspool I woke up to!”

Aaron balled his fists, trying to stay calm. Yes, the city could be an awful place. Yes, it was hard here, not some fairytale land from a world full of life, but it was all he had ever known. It was all he would ever know.

“And me?” he asked, terrified of the answer, “Why rescue me? What about my life helped you stomach this place?”

Morgan clenched his eyes shut, gritting his teeth with a low growl. “I saved you to get Lexi out of my face! To go back to my peace and quiet!”

No.

“Bullshit!” he yelled, cut deep by those words, “You didn’t even ask her to pay you!”

“Like she could have!” Morgan laughed a practiced, derisive laugh. Aaron felt tears building behind his eyes.

Is that all you are to him? Just one more task before he goes back to his peace and quiet?

“Why do you want to be the bad guy so much, Morgan?” Aaron rasped, staring down at the sidewalk, unable to meet the anger in those beautiful eyes, “Did you really just wake up and decide that the world was right about you? Did you need to fill that hole in your heart so badly that you grabbed on to the first thing you could find?”

The line had been crossed before he could stop himself, but the words needed to be said. He inhaled sharply as he met Morgan’s livid stare, anger rolling off the man in waves. His eyes were black as night, dark veins throbbing along the edges—some scare tactic to make Aaron back down, no doubt.

“Fuck you, Aaron,“ Morgan hissed, taking another step away, “You do not get to spend one night with me, get me to spill my secrets and assume you understand anything about me!”

He turned to leave, and Aaron leapt forward, grabbing his wrist in a desperate motion. “Change the story, Morgan!”

Morgan wheeled around, swatting his hand aside with a growl. “Change it yourself, Officer Jones. You want to fix this city so damn bad? Start by opening your fucking eyes!”

Aaron took a step back at the accusation in his voice. “What is that supposed to mean?”

The man released an exasperated laugh. “You are literally working for the people that are turning this place into a new hell, one day at a time!”

This again?

“I told you,” Aaron bellowed, “They’re not like that!”

Aaron stood his ground as Morgan moved toward him, stalking like a predator.

“You want to know why I went after the Ripper?” Morgan sneered, “You want to know how I met Peter’s mother? I found her in the street, begging your precious ECPD for help! They pushed her away! They threw her into the dirt—right where she belonged!”

“What?” Aaron breathed in disbelief. His fellow officers could be dicks, but they’d always remained professional. They always did their jobs. They were there to help… to make a difference. “No… that’s…”

“You want to know the real reason I stayed tethered to you?” Morgan went on, inching closer, and Aaron braced himself. Whatever he said next, it didn’t matter. He was trying to push him away. Trying to hurt him and make him run. It would be a painful lie, nothing more. “You think it’s because I like you? Because I care? I did it for whatever poor soul Esotech snatched up and tethered to you like a battery! To spare a defenseless witch from going without their magic in this shithole at the end of the world!”

Aaron’s face went slack. A numbness spread to his fingertips, and his throat went dry. “What? What are you talking about?”

There it was again. That laugh. A sinister laugh that didn’t belong on those lips. “You have to be fucking kidding me! You never once thought about it? Where they got the magic to power your runes?”

“E-Esotech…” Aaron fumbled, sweat beading across his skin, “They took it from the Well.”

“They took it from a WITCH!“ Morgan roared, “They coerce them! They threaten and they beat them! They take them from their families and force them to say the words of binding! Whatever it takes! If they had that kind of access to the Well, they wouldn’t need ME!”

The words were like a knife in his chest. His head swam. His stomach churned, and he feared he might vomit. Whatever he had readied himself for, it wasn’t that. He gripped the banister for balance. If Morgan was lying about anything, any part of this... He wouldn’t go that far, would he?

“No…” he gasped, “Morgan… Morgan, I didn’t know! I swear!”

The man’s eyes softened. The black voids yielded, allowing the silver its rightful place. His face filled with sorrow now—intense—broken even.

“You didn’t know…” he whispered, “You’ve been with them, what? Six years now? Were you that blinded by your duty? Your hero complex? I told you who they were, Aaron. You didn’t care.”

Morgan turned away with a single fist clenched over something. An anchor.

“Morgan, please!” Aaron called after him, “Please… talk to me! I want to make this right! I will… just… don’t go!”

Aaron blinked a single tear free, rolling down his cheek in the cold air. He was alone.