Wallis lay on her side on her bed, head propped up by one hand. The amorphous monster stood just outside the room, not because he was being polite, but because he physically couldn’t fit. Even with all his shape-shifting talent, being nearly twice the size of the room had its limits.

  "My hand feels... off," she mused, raising her right hand, sleeve rolled high. She stared at her unnaturally smooth skin, completely disregarding the Mark that was also on her arm. "My veins used to be so visible, but now they're gone. And look," she extended her limb, "it's so pale now, like I don’t have blood. Doesn’t it look colorless?"

  "I think it's rather obvious I lack the optical receptors for color perception," the monster replied, his voice as flat as ever.

  “I see,” Wallis nodded in understanding and sighed in sadness. Of course he couldn’t see colors; he was the type that didn’t even have eyes, just vague senses. Which, Wallis thought, was a very convenient excuse for not having to compliment her.

  Today was the last day of school, and the only reason she was stuck at home instead of out enjoying the day was because one of the many strict precautions meant she wasn't allowed to go anywhere unless specifically granted permission. Though the restriction was annoying, she didn't appear particularly bothered by it.

  “I understand it’s your last day of school and all,” the monster said, “but we need to get going. We’ve already wasted three weeks.”

  Wallis sat up on the bed. “Get going? Where?”

  "Somewhere important."

  "Where?" Wallis repeated.

  “We’re going to meet some people in a garden. We’ll be back before the sirens,” the monster clarified.

  She looked down at her wristwatch. “It’s six-forty. The sirens won’t go off for another four hours. What exactly are we doing for four hours?” It’s not like Wallis trusted him with every cell in her body—she trusted her mother’s words more to heed every single action he made.

  “Remember when I said I needed to assess your condition? Consider this the assessment,” the monster replied.

  “And if I don’t go?”

  “You have no choice in this matter. Be it my future and yours, we’d be in trouble if we don’t go today,” he said, utterly devoid of inflection. Wallis blinked. Trying to understand the creature was difficult; he had no face, no body language, no tells, just a static gelatinous mass of ominous intent.

  Wallis slid off her bed and headed for the open door. “I’m just going to check something... take a long bath...” Circling the unmoving blob in the hallway, she broke into a sprint, yelling, "Mo—!" before she was violently cut off. A sleek, black tentacle, moving with alarming speed, lashed out and wrapped around her neck, deliberately yanking her back into the room with a low thud. “We are leaving now,” he said.

  “Ahuhuhu, my back. You monster!” Wallis spat out, curling over to the side, her hand on her back.

  “I already told you my name,” the monster retorted.

  “What does Rono even mean?!”

  Earlier yesterday, the monster had dropped deep lore out of nowhere when Wallis was drinking water, including his name, which surprisingly sounds a bit soft.

  “What does Wallis even mean?”

  “Foreigner!”

  “Be humble from now on,” said Rono.

  Wallis slowly pushed herself up, her expression grim. Rono loomed in the doorway, his shadow stretching into the room. "Then, at least give me context. What ‘future’ are you talking about?” she asked, scooting backward until her back hit her bed, settling into a cross-legged position. Standing up was still beyond her; walking was as far as she’d gotten.

  "Gladly," he began, his voice seeming to change subtly. "We are guardians."

  Wallis leaned in intently.

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  "We guard treasures. Marvelous treasures."

  "Marvelous treasures?" she echoed, a hint of genuine curiosity in her voice.

  "Precisely," Rono confirmed, then abruptly grabbed her arm and, with surprising gentleness, hauled her back onto her feet. "Now, put on your footwear."

  “Whoa, whoa, hold on a second! I never signed up for guard duty, and I certainly can’t just become one now!” Wallis protested, shaking her head vigorously and taking a hasty step backward.

  "Yet, you are," he simply stated.

  "Pick someone else!"

  “You’re my last.”

  Wallis threw her hands up. "Right. What kind of reckless decision was that?! Who told you getting a kid as a host would suddenly make your life great?"

  “I chose you young because I haven’t chosen a kid before.”

  “Haven’t chosen a kid before? What before?” Wallis scoffed.

  “You’re my fifth host.”

  “What?”

  Rono, as casually as he had yeterday, dropped exotic information about the impossible. Nevarids—the very beings Rono was supposedly one of—were known to bond with only one host in their entire existence. They either died upon entering a human body or survived to eventually perish when their host died. There was no 'choosing,' no 'multiple hosts.' It was a one-time deal with fatal consequences.

  “What-You-… fifth?!“ she stammered. “No way that’s true.’

  “Yes, it is true. Now, are you wearing your footwear? Not? OK. We’re departing regardless,” Rono said, already dissolving into his usual trail of black particles.

  Wallis opened her mouth to object, but seeing the particles form as he declared 'leaving' was a universally bad sign. She quickly darted to the only window in her room, flung it wide open, and let out a bloodcurdling, piercing scream at the very top of her lungs. She’d only done that because Rono had explicitly warned her about attracting attention when he was around, as if their whole weird arrangement was some scandalous secret. Her quick thinking paid off—Rono’s spiritual dispatch halted, and another black tentacle lashed out at her. She was honestly ready to plummet two floors if it meant escaping that thing, but sadly, gravity was no match for Rono.

  He grabbed her by the neck again, her legs dangling a few feet above the ground. “What are you doing?! Do you comprehend the consequences of your actions?!” Rono snarled, his voice, for the first time, actually sounding laced with genuine emotion—a rare and unsettling occurrence.

  “If we were leaving, why couldn’t it be through the door?!” Wallis riposted, her voice slightly strained, the tentacle mercifully not tightening enough to choke her.

  “Because we are being watched! There are humans around this building in every corner!”

  “If they were humans, then they would’ve already detected you from their radar!”

  “I already took care of that radar!” He dropped her to the floor. “But now you’ve gone and screamed.”

  Wallis clutched her throat, a wary expression on her face.

  Footsteps echoed nearby, and someone came looking.

  "What's wrong?" asked Rosaline, having heard the scream. Her concern was present, but she seemed accustomed to the unusual sight of her daughter sitting on the floor and the large blob standing outside.

  "Nothing," Wallis mumbled, her hand still at her neck, her face neutral. "I thought I broke my neck." Rosaline sighed—Wallis did that more often than not these days. "Just be careful," she said, not questioning what her daughter had been doing moments before anymore. She gave Rono one last, unreadable glance before calmly walking away.

  After a brief, loaded silence, Wallis cleared her throat and spoke. "So, you said we had to go somewhere. How?"

  “By the way I leave,” he answered. “Are you ready to go now?”

  "Wait," Wallis called, scrambling out of the bedroom. This time, Rono surprisingly didn’t stop her. The girl returned swiftly, shoes in hand. She quickly slipped them on, shrugged into the jacket draped over her bed, and pulled the brown beanie over her head. “At least Mom is going to work,” she said with a shrug. "I'm ready," Wallis announced.

  “If you please, do not do anything until you arrive. It takes some time to get you there,” Rono instructed, the familiar black particles weaving into the air once more. And just like that, he was gone, leaving his host standing there.

  Wallis and her family never asked about Rono’s unusual characteristics, mostly because none of them wanted to know. And even if they did, what would they do with that knowledge?

  Nevarids and Companions simply didn't disappear like that, not in a whirlwind of sparks. They didn't have ethereal hazes carrying them, nor were they transported by them. They were always physically present, like humans, animals, and plants. They did not possess supernatural powers either; it was all about physical attributes.

  So, Rono was a Nevarid, without a doubt, but clearly a very, very special case. He was existing, defying all known rules. The big question, the one that truly gnawed at the back of Wallis' mind, remained: Why?