(Edited with Grammarly on 8/19/2026)
Silence suffused the entire space, gaining an almost tangible weight as it bore down on their shoulders. Not even the rowdy ambient backdrop of afternoon Gotham was enough to cut through it.
Albert spent far more time and effort peeling and picking at his mask. Tearing away wrinkled skin and leaving behind his usual youthful appearance.
"Please don't leave that in my car."
Willow whispered, and it nearly sounded like a gunshot. Blasting away the somewhat awkward air between them, he glanced over at her, and even she looked a bit surprised that those words had left her mouth. Maybe it was an automatic response? Whatever the case, it wasn't like he could blame her.
These seats were leather, that nice material that still shone in passing light and made a slight creak whenever he shifted. Yeah, it was the good stuff.
"Don't worry," He replied, rummaging around in his pocket before opening a simple grocery bag and depositing the piece of false skin inside. And just to make even extra sure that he wasn't leaving behind a mess, he looped the two handles over his ears, allowing it to just dangle right before him. "I came prepared."
"Good...good…"
She nodded but again, didn't really sound all the way there. It seemed her slipped control had somewhat shaken her...okay, probably more than just 'somewhat'. Ever since he met Willow, she's always been an incredibly composed person, and the only time he could ever even remember her being snappy was when he called her unexpectedly out on what was probably her day off.
But how she just snapped back at him in the hotel room was enough for him to know to step carefully around her.
He hated that feeling, hated that even now there was some part of him to receive some level of that wrath. Logically, he knew there wasn't a chance that would happen. Knew that there had been more reasons at play than he felt qualified to point out, but that still didn't help how he felt.
"So," For once, it was he who couldn't take the awkward silence any longer. The quiet between them had become maddening, with nothing but the sound of ripping flesh and cars rumbling by filling the space. If he didn't know how rude it was to touch someone's car radio, he probably would've cranked it up to some early pop station or something. "How was Malaya doing?"
Despite her being in the front seat during their short trip to the woman's clinic, there wasn't really a good place to go about asking questions. Especially since she flinched away from him whenever she caught his reflection. And with him trying to keep Mr. Aslan in place, he felt trying to bridge the gap wouldn't do anything but make her curl further into her shell.
So besides smiling comfortingly, he sat back as still as a statue while keeping his questions to himself.
"Well, she wasn't too willing to speak to me at first." Willow shrugged, turning her gaze back to the small nondescript clinic across the way from them. Her dark eyes narrowed as if she was trying to pierce through the heavily tinted windows. "But once I explained what I..well, we were doing there, she was at least willing to hear me out...Lovecraft, it was bad. Like, really, really bad. I-I'm really not sure if she was going to be able to make it to the end of the year, kind of bad, you know? She had this familiar look to some of the girls I used to hang out with."
Albert could only nod at that, the same tight feeling in his chest constricting closer as guilt tried its best to ring his bell. Would she have been in a better state if he'd just accepted the case weeks ago? Or even if he'd just followed her into the hotel that night?
"It was a classic case of blackmail. He cornered her during one of her visits to her husband's job and told her how awful her husband was doing. Told her that the company was thinking of letting him go because he wasn't meeting needed sales and was underperforming in all ways in comparison to even the interns. And said how he would love to help...but that he needed something from her to make it worth his while."
"But you know what?" Her fingers clenched tight around the steering wheel, a slight creak echoing through the enclosed space as her jaw flexed. "That wasn't fucking enough for him. It wasn't enough that he forced another human being into sleeping with him, wasn't enough that he spent over a year degrading her and treating her like she was nothing more than a fucking toy to get his own rocks off...He used Sap of the Bodhi. Been using it from the very fucking beginning. Not on himself, the fucking worm, but used it on her! If you remember what I said, it's not an addictive drug by itself. But it makes you addicted to the sex itself. Each time, you have to keep going for more and more extreme just to chase that initial high...He got her hooked. I've seen girls rub themselves raw and bloody, seen them turn into fucking zombies trying in vain to reach that level ever again. He made it so that even if she wanted to have sex again, she'll never, ever be able to have it 'normally' or 'healthily'."
"…" He did remember her saying something like that months ago, when they were strolling through the market. And now knowing what it had done to Malaya, he could feel the small neon pink pill grow exponentially heavy in his pocket. Its once-enchanting appearance now seemed to grow barbs and fangs larger than his own arm. Like it was a lure from an impossibly massive angler. "Are there any cures? Or treatment or anything we can get for her?"
"A lot of the people I know are still in therapy now, and the facilities won't even let me or anyone anywhere near them. If there is a cure out there, I don't know about it."
"…" The pill should still be a chemical compound, probably plant-based if it was a performance enhancer. Maybe, if he asked nicely, Ivy would help? "I think I know someone who could help...But before that, can Madame Clements help in some way?"
"...I don't think so." Willow let out a breath, tapping away at the wheel to an unknown beat. "From what she told me, any ritual that can alter the body in the required way to rid of an addiction isn't magic that could be used without a hefty price. I think even temporarily suppressing it would probably border on mind control, and that would absolutely get the Enforcers so far up our ass that they could use us as sock-puppets."
"So no then, I'll see what I can do." It looked like he would need to drop by Ivy and Harley's place after all this and maybe try to get his story straight before going over there. Else Keegan might 'mysterious' disappear in the middle of the night. Shaking his head, he glanced over at her. She looked exhausted and not just in a physical sense. Like she wanted nothing more than to lock herself in a room somewhere and not come out until the end of the era. Instead of poking his nose where it didn't belong, he focused back on his work.
"...Did you speak to your, uh, police contact yet?"
That single question was enough for him to flinch away as if he'd been struck, causing him to yank hard on a piece of his own flesh instead of the mask. Wincing, he rubbed gently at his quickly reddening and tender cheek.
"No." He knew it wasn't the right answer the moment it left his lips; he'd been procrastinating on that end. Honestly, it should've been dealt with the very moment he knew what was going on. This was bigger than his own pride; if he wanted to make sure Malaya could actually put in a police report without any issues, he needed to make sure her case was dealt with by someone specialized in instances like this. Someone who could navigate the incredibly delicate dance of getting down all the needed testimonies while also making sure her mind stayed intact. "What do you think she's going to do next?"
"I don't know, really. I want to believe, with all my heart, that she'll go to the police with everything, but I've been here too many times to really guess. I just want to make sure that if- no, when she does decide to go to the police, there will be at least one person there that isn't annoyed or apathetic to it all...I know I'm being a bit pushy, but could you deal with that now?"
Reaching into his pocket, a silent dread filled him as he began to scroll down his painfully small contact list. Actually, he went over the list multiple times, passing the name more than thrice before he knew his stalling tactic wasn't really going to work.
Nor should he want it to work anyway. Again, this was bigger than him. Keegan needed to go, and Malaya deserved justice for what happened to her. And if the price to achieve all that smoothly was an uncomfortable conversation, then it was a price he should've been more than willing to pay.
If that was the case, then why was he hesitating even now?
'I'm being stupid.'
He knew their last interaction hadn't gone the best, and the fault lay in his own schemes. Despite that, he felt that being the first to reach out would be him admitting defeat. That, and it was for sure going to be awkward. He'd purposefully acted like an insecure teenager to shake her off, and now here it was coming back to haunt him.
"..."
Before long, his hesitation became even more evident if the way she side-eyed him was anything to go by.
Without a second thought, he forced his thumb forward. Pressing the button, the familiar muffled ringing could be heard. Holding the device to his ear, he listened. Heart thumping louder and louder with every ring. Some part, a larger piece, of him honestly wanted her to not pick up. For it to turn out that she'd either changed numbers or blocked him completely. For there to be no other choice but to look for alternative avenues.
But after the fourth ring, fate was not on his side.
"...Hello?"
The voice was so very familiar that it was so easy to imagine the redhead then, remember laughter that filled his ears, that no matter what her ulterior motives were for approaching him, she'd probably been the first person in either life to show actual romantic interest in him. Or at least the first to be so upfront about it. And it didn't even matter that he'd been able to pierce through her facade.
He'd probably been quiet for too long.
"Hey, Barbara... It's, uh-Albert."
"Who?" Intentional or not, that did hurt quite a bit. Like a small spike had been punctured right through his heart, leaving behind a dull ache that honestly made him want to hang up the phone right then. He could feel his face and ears heat up and was sure that if he took even a moment to look in a reflection, he'd be as red as a tomato.
The space was quite small, meaning it was pretty easy to 'accidentally' eavesdrop on a call. But at least Willow had the grace to pretend like she hadn't heard anything...Except, of course, a very minor reaction, too fast for most people to catch, and maybe she thought he couldn't see her out of the corner of his eye. Whatever the case, her wince was enough for him to want nothing more than to crawl into a hole somewhere to sleep away the shame.
Shame.
Just the word was enough to give him a bitter taste in his mouth. What did he know about shame? In comparison to that foreign echo that still sent ripples through his consciousness, this little bit of embarrassment was nothing. Less than nothing, in fact.
"Nelson. Albert Nelson. The one you took to the Soiree'."
There, now he made it nearly impossible for her to keep playing her games. Unless she was shameless enough to continue.
"Oh."
Her reply was flat, growing far colder than it previously had been. He waited for her to continue, to put some effort into this conversation to make it even the least bit less painful than it had to be. But even when he waited for a solid thirty seconds, there was still absolutely nothing. Glancing down, he still saw the call hadn't been disconnected yet, and she was really just staying that deathly silent.
"Listen," There really didn't seem to be a point in dragging this out farther than it had to be. She would help, as despite everything, Barbara was still one of the good guys here. "I need to ask you a favor."
"…" The redhead was silent, but he could almost feel the annoyance welling up on the other end, like she was just barely holding back from exploding. "You've got a lot of nerve! A favor, really, Albert?! Especially after all you said to me?! You haven't said sorry or even shown even a hint of remorse, but here you are asking me for something? No, I don't think so."
"It's not for me." Normally, he probably would've shied away from the phone before leaving a few half-hearted apologies and never bothering her again. Did he feel bad for saying all that awful stuff to her? Yeah, sometimes late at night he looked back at those moments and felt some slight twinge of regret. But...no, he was being stupid. He realized that now. Again, it was some silent, deeper part of him that still somewhat felt justified in what he did. She lied, and he lashed out 'in character' to get her and the Bat Family off his back...Despite everything, he could admit one thing. That perhaps he'd gone a bit too far. Just a bit...okay, way more than that. "Someone I know needs help."
"Then call the cops." That heat in her voice only rose, and it was so easy to imagine a scowl spreading across her lips. Despite how amped she was getting, there was no shouting or screaming. Just a quiet, simmering anger that sent a shiver down his spine. "I'm don-"
"That's why I'm calling." Albert just knew she was going to hang up if he didn't give her something. Really anything to distract her long enough from her anger. And he needed to do it fast. Taking in a deep breath, he just allowed it all to come tumbling out. "Someone I know has been through some...terrible things over the last year or so. And it really, really messed them up. I want to make sure that when they go to make their report, they can do it with someone not seven hours in on a ten-hour shift and knows how to deal with more delicate cases like this. Like a Special Victims Unit?"
"…" He didn't need to come out and say what happened; there'd been plenty of clues already there for her to piece together everything. Suddenly, muffled movement could be heard in the background before she spoke once more. Her voice was a lot quieter and far more open than it had been before. "Explain. Now. None of those little word games you like to play; you don't have to tell me everything."
And so, Albert did exactly that, besides cutting out a few details like him breaking and entering, stalking, bribing, or really anything that could possibly implicate him in any crimes. Along with keeping his readings to himself and any names involved, just in case Malaya wanted to keep her anonymity intact. During his retelling, something caught his eye. From the far end of the street, a small bright red buggy swerved in between traffic. Completely uncaring of the honks or cursing they received as it barreled forward. Before it swiveled suddenly, cutting off yet another person as it turned into the clinic parking lot
Its drive door swung open wildly, and stumbling out of the vehicle was a visibly distraught but familiar man with thinning black hair. Isaac, in a near panic, slammed the door shut before scrambling towards the entranceway. His face was deathly pale as he pushed open the clinic doors and disappeared inside.
'Oh thank god.'
"...Hello?" Barbara's voice drew him back to reality, only now realizing that he'd stopped his retelling at the sight of his client. "What happened?"
And beside him, Willow looked like she wanted to ask the same thing.
"I just saw her husband pull into the clinic...And no, he doesn't know anything."
Silence met his answer, and he took it as his silent cue to continue, wrapping up his retelling with a heavy sigh.
"And that's just about it."
"…" The redhead was silent on the other end, and it was so easy to imagine her biting her lip in thought. She most assuredly could tell he was hiding a lot but didn't really seem all too willing to press at the moment. "Okay, okay...I got it. I'll make some calls and make sure they have at least a Victim Specialist there."
"Thank you."
And he meant it, a heavy weight sliding off his chest. It was like he'd been tightly wound up like a spring, before something came along and finally released the tension slowly from its form. Not to the point where he would go shooting or lashing out, but a more relaxed release that left him feeling more exhausted than he once believed.
"I'm not doing this for you, Albert." She snapped, a sudden flash of heat overcoming her control for just a moment before it died back down to a small blue flame. "You-you...No, I'm not doing this over the phone. We will talk about this later, in person. Coffee Stains, tomorrow morning...Do not make me come looking for you."
With that, without even waiting for his reply or acceptance, the call ended suddenly. Leaving him to look down at his phone with a rather lost expression on his face. There was no bluff anywhere in that statement. She knew where he lived, knew his phone number, and probably had a pretty good idea of his routine. It made that part of him that only wanted to crash and sleep for two days straight silently weep at being pushed back once more.
"...Barbara, as in the Commissioner's kid?" Willow suddenly spoke up for the first time, a bit more pep in her as she continued with a wry grin. "You're pretty damn brave, stupid but brave."
But just as quickly as her mood rose, it was instantly undercut by a sharp and distinctly judgmental look that made him squirm in his seat.
"I don't know exactly what happened to cause her to be so pissed at you, but you owe that girl a genuine apology. No if's or buts about it. And you don't have to worry about her coming to find you; I'll make sure you get there early, even."
He didn't really know what to say just then, air freezing in his lungs as the enormity of the situation struck him. This wasn't how any of this was supposed to happen; he just wanted to make sure Malaya got the help she needed, but now he'd signed himself up for yet another uncomfortable situation.
He was doing the right thing, so why did it feel like he was being punished for it?
Just then, movement caught his attention. From those clinic doors, two figures walked out. Isaac held the door open the best he could. Despite his face looking pale and an expression of barely contained pain on full display, from this far away it was impossible to tell, but the teen just knew those black eyes were rimmed with red. He appeared wobbly on his feet, but was purposefully putting on a strong front. Acting as a pillar for the woman clinging desperately to him. Thin fingers looked as if they might punch holes clean through his shirt.
Malaya moved beside him, shuffling at his pace with her face buried deep in the crook of his neck. Her long dark brown hair covering the rest of her expression.
'No.'
Albert shook his head vigorously, the sight sending the start of his pity party right out the door. He didn't get to complain right then; he didn't get to act like sitting down across from someone was anywhere near as bad as what Malaya and Isaac are going through. And just thinking of what lay ahead of them made a bitter taste explode in his mouth, almost strong enough to make him vomit up whatever minute amount of food he'd been able to force down that morning.
Watching the married couple shuffle to their car, he couldn't help but feel something warm spread through his chest. Some part of himself, a more human part of himself, finally seemed to click into place.
***
"You two will have fifteen minutes."
The guard said, allowing the prisoner to collapse into the stick plastic chair that didn't provide even a little bit of comfort. Sneering openly, he took a few steps back away from the clear glass and stood off in the corner. His hand rested casually on the night baton at his waist, appearing more than eager for either one of them to try anything.
"Keegan."
The man appeared to be in his early fifties with a stern but kind face. His inky black hair was cut short, with smile lines etched into his weathered face. Wearing a simple black suit, tailored and finely ironed. Burning brown eyes looked across at the prisoner with a pained but resolute expression.
"Archie…" Keegan rubbed at his wrists, a scowl visible on his face as he leaned back in that oh-so-uncomfortable chair. "When are you going to get me out? It's terrible in here! The food is awful; they're making me wear this cheap ass uniform they swear is cotton, but I've broken out so many times from it that I'm starting to think it's some other cheap shit."
"…" The man didn't reply for a moment, that smiling and concerned facade fading away like a drop of ink in a watering hole. Leaving behind a blank expression that didn't hold even a hint of warmth. "I think you're confused here. You're not getting out."
"What?!" The prisoner jumped to his feet suddenly, or at least tried to, as he had no choice but to cling to the table before him to steady himself right before he busted his own head open on it. A shame, really. The sound of jingling chains accompanied his little tantrum. "Why?! Where's our lawyers?! Why the hell are we paying them if they can't get me out of something this simple? Useless fucks!"
"Your public defender is trying his best."
"…" Keegan froze at that, slowly looking up at the man with an incredulous expression. "What the hell do you mean 'Public Defender'? What about all those lawyers we've been paying over the years?"
"Oh." Archie nodded. "You mean 'my' lawyers."
"...What the hell are you talking about?! Why the hell aren't they on the job then?!"
"Simple, really. You can't afford them; all you can afford is a Public Defender."
"Even if you decided to leave me out to fucking dry, I should be able to afford someone better than that!"
"Keegan, what don't you seem to understand? You're broke. Your assets are frozen while the police rummage through everything. And the Board...well, the Board has ousted you."
"You own the fucking Board!" Keegan raged, speckles of spit landing on the glass between them. "How the hell does that happen? What kind of useless fucking man can't even keep some schmucks in line? Okay, fine. I got ousted. My assets are frozen. So what?! Can't you or Mom just hire me one of your lawyers? I don't really see the problem here!"
"...You don't even make this fun." Archie sighed, leaning while rubbing at the bridge of his nose, trying and failing to soothe the burgeoning headache blossoming to life. "I'll say it in simplest terms. No one is going to help you, Keegan. I'm not going to sink my money into your defense and your mother...well, she simply can't."
"Why the fuck not, Archie?!"
"I don't appreciate your tone, Keegan."
"Yes, yes...I'm sorry, Father." He practically spat the words out, his derision clear in his voice. "I'm sorry that I've been framed by yet another slut, and my own dad has shown himself incompetent enough to be incapable of getting me out of this simple, simple bind! Like fucking always! I'm so sorry that I'm stressed out while you sit there and tell me fucking lies! Just fucking go! I don't even know why you're here! I called Mom, not you!"
"...You're not getting it." Now, Archie sounded exasperated. Like all his energy had been sapped away just from this short conversation. "How many times do I have to tell you? Your mother isn't able to help you. None of your aunts or uncles or cousins are either. They can't. They're just as broke as you are now."
"What do you mean? What about the money Gramps left everyone?"
"Oh, you mean his estate? Yeah, they've been pulling on what he left behind for years now. Normally, it should've been enough to live off for the next couple of generations, but due to recent developments, that's been frozen as well."
"…" Keegan fell silent at that, gaze dropping low to the floor as the truth hit him all at once. Before something shifted in him and he looked back up at the old man. A completely different, softer expression was on full display. "What do the cops want, Dad? An apology? I can do that, and then what? I'll be good to leave, right?"
"You're still thinking like you have money, no, Keegan. That pitiful show would've been enough back home in your little town, but here? No. That's not how this works. No, you'll go before the judge, and they'll decide if it goes to trial...You better hope it doesn't. I heard these Gothamites can be vicious."
"But-but, Dad! I didn't do anything!"
"Really, Kouki?" Archie spoke softly, but the anger and disgust in his voice were almost tangible. "You didn't do anything wrong? No, no, Kouki. The Itou Family's golden child can never do wrong. Not even when he forced himself on a family friend, not when he coerces one of his teachers, not even when he drugs his classmates at karaoke bars, not even when he assaulted a high school girl? But no, despite everything, you've never done anything wrong, right?"
"...Bu-"
"Don't speak." He held up his wrinkled hand, forestalling the deluge of excuses and explanations they both knew was coming. "Don't even open your mouth. I'm sick of it. Sick of your lies, sick of your family, but most of all, I'm so sick of sitting back and being forced to pretend that looking at you doesn't make me want to wring your neck."
"Dad…"
"I don't know why you're calling me that now. You've never seen me as your father, have you? You don't have to say anything...you already knew, didn't you? Your mother probably made sure she told you when you were young, didn't she? You're probably wondering how I knew, especially when your mother probably assured you that there was no way I, a weak man, could ever know. Or if I did, I knew how to keep my mouth shut about it...But I knew the very moment you were born, when you came out of the womb with blonde hair; yeah, no one from my side of the family ever had blonde hair. Not a single one...But you know who did? A young guard that used to work for the Itou clan right around the time I married your mother... well, at least until he tragically passed. What was it from again? A heart attack? No, it was a gas leak."
"Before, I was willing to look the other way and be...what did you call me? Ah yes, be a good 'cuck'. I was willing to let you just be; you weren't my kid. Not my problem, and I just knew that since she cheated on me, I had no reason to really stay loyal to her either. We were all but separated for years, having never slept in the same bed since the day we found out she was pregnant. But your Grandfather didn't care, as long as we didn't ruin your family's 'name'. But when I found out what you'd been doing, how many lives you ruined for your pleasure, I was getting ready to disown you myself. Expose the fact that you weren't my child and deal with the legal battle. But it was your Grandfather who summoned me, told me you were 'just a boy' and that it was 'expected,' or that no 'real' harm had been done and that I was being too sensitive."
"I was this close to spilling it all...until he offered me a little wager." Despite himself, Keegan leaned in closer, completely enraptured by the tale. Archie only smiled darkly. "He told me this. He swore to me that you would change, that after he got you out of the country, you would grow up and act like a human for once. He made me promise that if you could come to America and toss out your old ways, I would sign over my contracts to the Itou family. They would have complete control over multiple trucking companies here in the US and open them up to such a massive revenue stream that it could've been used to patch up some of their burnt bridges...But if you failed, failed to control your darker urges, I, Archie Gould, would become the primary beneficiary of the Itou Family estate."
"You-you!"
Keegan grew deathly pale, eyes looking ready to roll up into the back of his head. And if he wasn't already sitting, the man probably would've collapsed into a boneless heap on the ground.
"Yes, Kouki. Me." Archie stood slowly, looming over the prisoner despite being quite a bit shorter in normal circumstances. "Don't get me wrong, I wanted to believe that you could change. That maybe if you had some actual real-life experience with people you grew up with, that maybe you would stop seeing the rest of the world as dolls. But it seems I was wrong to hope."
"But-but Dad! I'm your son! You can't just leave me in here!"
"Oh, that?" The old man turned, a small smile in place. Something genuine that made his smile lines deeper. "You don't need to worry about that."
"What? Really? You changed your mind?!"
Those eyes lit up with hope before he sat up a bit straighter, relief filling him as he looked up at his savior.
"Japan hasn't forgotten about you." Those words caused his blood to freeze, dread welling up from the depths of his very soul. "The US will try to keep you, but Japan wants you, really, really badly. So they're probably going to add your existing charges and extradite you...Cheer up, you're going home."
Like that, Archie turned away from the man. His small figure was only a few feet away before Keegan shot to his feet. Fists came to bang ineffectively at the protective glass. Foam spilled from his lips as he screamed and roared out.
"YOU FUCKNG BASTARD!" The guards were on him in the next moment, two coming in from either side to try and tackle him to the ground. But that rage was a thick, vicious thing that poured through his veins like molten magma. "YOU SET ME UP! YOU STOLE MY BIRTHRIGHT! GET BACK HERE! GET BACK, YOU USELESS FUCKING CUCK-"
Despite the ruckus behind him, the old man didn't even pause. Just silently nodded to the guard, who opened the door quickly before disappearing into a bright white hallway.
(A/N: Hey guys! It's been awhile since one of these, but I wanted to get my thoughts out. This arc was a bit of roller-coaster, I've been thinking about this case since Volume 1 and despite that, the beginning of this arc was rocky for me. Like I knew where it was all going to end but how I was going to get there was a bit of a different matter. So originally, I thought this was going to be a quick arc. Like four-to-five chapters max, not double. But hey, that's just how things work out sometimes. There was A LOT of content that I just didn't feel adequate enough to add. For instance, I originally had Albert in the room with Willow while she was trying to calm Malaya down, and I got about 2k words in at around 1-2AM before sleeping on it and waking up to just delete everything. The scene to me felt incredibly awkward? Or weird or maybe that's just how I felt about it. I didn't know how you would even begin to comfort someone who'd been assaulted like Malaya had and it really, really showed in that scene. Or when I had a branch where Albert did accidentally kill Keegan in that bathroom, where he broke free from the handcuffs from a rusty pipe and tackled Albert to the ground, and I did plan on Albert having a panic attack as the foreign emotions from Malaya's scarf overlapped with Keegan on top of him before he stabbed the man to death in the scuffle. It got scrapped because I felt this wasn't the right arc for his first kill. Or maybe I'm just being picky here. Whatever the case, this arc is officially over! After settling some loose ends here and there, we'll be on track to move forward! I know I say this a lot but this story be anywhere close to where it is now if it wasn't for all of you! Thank you all for reading and supporting my work! And I will see you guys next week!)