Deborah genuinely wasn't sure how she had made it through the day. Barely twenty-four hours had passed since yesterday's disaster, and already the entire city seemed to have succumbed to pure and utter chaos. Public relations had been answering calls from various reporters begging forninformation on the monstrous knight what destroyed the hallowed city holiday as well as the police's plans to deal with him. The two officers responsible for the festivity's security were facing probation, though Deborah highly doubted they would ever wear uniform again. Naturally, the commissioner was putting everything on hold until this, quote unquote, "unstoppable menace to society" was brought to justice. Wanting to stick her boss' head in a blender and hitting frappe was nothing new to Deborah's usual intrusive thoughts, but now she was wanting to skip the smoothie and break out the food processor for cole slaw. She had bitten her tongue so many times throughout the day that it might as well have been her lunch, and she couldn't clock out of her shift fast enough. Thankfully, with the advent of her "nephew", living in town, she had the excuse to leave and check on him, and for once she was so glad that her precinct was not only gullible but incompetent. So long as no one was drawing lines between this Midtown Knight and her alleged nephew's arrival, maybe she could keep the charade going.

  Traffic through Midtown to Uptown didn't make her feel much better. Thanks to Grummsdale's topography, the only way forward was through with little in the way of alternative routes, which meant Deborah had no choice but to drive through the ruined streets of the town. If the burning of her childhood home hadn't broken her heart before, the ruination of the streets and shops she had frequented since she was in diapers made her feel all the worse. The bookstore where she had first read the Hardy Boys was caved in, the laundry shop where her mother taught her to sing was still flooded, and there was hardly anything left of the old ice cream shop where she and her brother would laugh their troubles away. But the worst sights were those of her neighbors and friends who were sifting through the rubble to salvage what was left of their lives, and she could see the black vultures in the form of company cars circling, no doubt ready to buy the properties off of these unfortunate souls. She was halfway tempted to stop where she was and chase them off, but she instead pushed her way forward, keeping on task.

  Upon arrival at Howard's apartment, she made her way up through the fire escape, not wanting a potential passerby to get a chance peak at Jacob. Howard was waiting for her, graciously opening the window and letting her in.

  "Tough day at the office?" he asked in a partial attempt for a joke.

  Deborah was certain her face was as long as a mule's, and she felt as though she had been kicked by one, though she knew someone else was worse.

  "How is he?" she asked.

  Howard thumbed at Jacob's room and led her inside. Jacob was nowhere to be seen, but Deborah could see that the light was on in the connecting bathroom through the door.

  "He's been in there pretty much since he woke up," Howard explained. "I've peaked in on him, but he's not been in the mood to talk. Can't rightly blame him since the media's been nonstop bashing on his character with little more than the unreliable narrations of your boss and a few blurry images from faulty chest and dash cams."

  "Unsurprising indeed," Deborah sighed. "What about your...other guests?"

  Howard rolled his eyes.

  "Where do I begin? They've kept mostly to Jacob's side, the younger woman trying to get him to open up. I've made small talk with the man, Merrick I think his name is, but he's not been too keen to say much. The older woman hasn't come about since yesterday. I grew up near Edinburgh, so the fact I'm near literal ghosts does not make me feel comfortable, and if it weren't for the fact that I'm just as concerned for the boy I'd be deeply rethinking our agreement for his placement."

  "And for that we are grateful, sir."

  Howard shrieked, jumping back as Merrick materialized in a shower of sparkles.

  "Sorry about that, doctor," Merrick said sheepishly before turning his attention to Deborah. "Ah ho ho, the lovely detective returns. Au chante, mademoiselle, and might I say you look quite dashing. I'm still not acquainted with women wearing pants, but you wear them well."

  Deborah scowled at him, and she marched right through him, stepping towards the bathroom door.

  "Uh, I wouldn't recommend that!" Merrick called. "The young lad isn't really in the mood for visitors at the moment."

  Ignoring him, Deborah reached the door and tapped softly.

  "Jacob? Sweety, are you in there?"

  An expectant silence hung in the air, unbroken by any response.

  "I'm coming in, alright? Please cover up if you aren't decent."

  With deliberate care, she turned the knob and nudged the door inward. The sight inside was bleak: Jacob huddled on the floor, a tightly wound, bedraggled figure. His bloodshot eyes were vacant, locked onto the wall, portraying a profound lack of sleep. Beside him sat the intangible shape of Nina, performing the gesture of stroking his head, and she lifted her eyes as Deborah appeared.

  "Detective, good morrow," she greeted with a friendly grin. "Regrettably, Jacob's not feeling receptive to... well, anything at present. His mind is a right truly kerfuffled mess."

  "That's what I figured," Deborah murmured, a sigh escaping her lips. "Fortunately, I might have just the perfect antidote to shake him out of it."

  She reached into her knapsack, and she took out a Styrofoam box.

  "After all, I promised him pie."

  She opened the box, and a tantalizing aroma of apple, cinnamon, and fine pastry filled the bathroom. It took a few moments, but the familiar spice of the diner delicacy awakened something in Jacob. All at once, he was up and diving into the small feast, foregoing the plastic cutlery of simply shoving the very warm delicacy straight down his throat. Deborah allowed herself a brief sense of satisfaction, and Nina likewise smiled.

  "That diner holds a special place in Jacob's heart," she said. "He and Laramie spent many a meal there. Smart thinking, detective."

  "It's why they gave me the badge," Deborah chirped proudly.

  After finishing off the treat, as well as liberally licking the sticky residue from his fingers, Jacob got to a sitting position, and he seemed to finally register Deborah's presence. His expression was a visible war between confusion and outrage, to which Deborah responded with moving back a short distance so as to give him space.

  "Wanted to come in and check in on you," she said softly. "You had quite the day, yesterday."

  Jacob scowled.

  "That's putting it kind of lightly, don't you think? So I guess this is the part where you arrest me?"

  Deborah shook her head.

  "I know all about scapegoats, kid, and, while this whole magic armor and ghosts thing is definitely pushing me well out of my comfort zone, I know you were the solution rather than the problem. In truth, you're my star witness, so it's in my better interests to protect you until we figure things out."

  "No other witnesses have come in?" Nina asked.

  "Not a soul," Deborah grumbled. "I've not had the personal opportunity to ask around yet, but it's like nobody saw the Legion in town yesterday."

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  "What about you?" Jacob asked. "Weren't you there?"

  "I wanted to be," Deborah replied, "but after your vanishing act the other day I've been on holding cell cleanup. You really don't know how many drunks you have in a town until you have to clean a holding cell."

  Jacob blanched and gagged

  "Gross, but...thanks, I guess."

  Deborah shrugged before ruffling his hair.

  "Small price to pay as long as the truth comes out, sweetie."

  She turned to the door and led Jacob out, though the young man refused to enter the living room where the much larger window could expose him.

  "So now what am I supposed to do?" he asked. "I wasn't exactly a social butterfly on a good day, but now if I so much as hold out a pinky toe it's gonna get shot off! I can't even use my freak hair and flashlight eyes as a disguise."

  Howard sauntered over to the group, a thoughtful expression on his face.

  "You can't stay holed up here forever, Jacob. Much as I enjoy your company, you need more than these four walls."

  Jacob shot him a venomous glare.

  "Funny, Doc. Remind me, whose bright idea was it to send me to that festival of carnage in the first place? I wanted to stay here with the dog!"

  Bernie woofed in affirmation.

  "He does have a point, Howie," Deborah said bluntly. "Great job on watching him, by the by. Real bang up job."

  Howard rolled his eyes.

  "Yeah, yeah, whine about it in your next session, Debbie. But the bottom line is that Jacob's in a big pickle with very few options beyond mailing him to China. What exactly is the plan for the investigation?"

  "Hunt down the Midtown Knight, what else?" Deborah grumbled. "Seriously, who came up with that? The commish has made it clear: we're to hunt down the figure allegedly responsible for the incident with extreme prejudice. Any and all other cases are to be put on hold until they're in custody."

  She looked to Jacob apologetically.

  "Which unfortunately puts a strainer on my plans to find your uncle. I'll still try, but I'm only one woman."

  "Then it's fortunate you have a partner so wonderful and, dare I say, devilishly handsome!" Merrick announced, once more reappearing out of nowhere.

  Deborah cocked her head at him, her expression a perfect blend of skepticism and thinly veiled annoyance.

  "No offense, spooky," she said flatly, "but unless you've got some kind of magical uncle radar, I'm not seeing your immediate use."

  "Finally, someone speaking my language," Nina chuckled, earning a swift, wounded glare from Merrick.

  "You wound me, young lady," he declared dramatically, pressing a hand to his chest. "Surely, my dear, you realize that I am not so bidden by your laws as I am neither a citizen nor a true being of your dimension."

  "You're an illegal alien, so what?" Deborah stated sardonically, which brought a raucousing round of laughter from Nina.

  Thoroughly humiliated but no less defeated, Merrick took a long, deep, calming breath, and then he fixed Deborah with a firm look.

  "What I am saying is that I don't require your bothersome warrants or probable cause to go wherever I want. I can even become invisible and intangible if I so chose to avoid detection. While I have a limited range from the lad's Sterling Star, I can still help you search for Laramie. I've already been searching, but I know nothing of this city nor the likely places a man can be hidden from prying eyes. So, rather than disgracing me, perhaps you should welcome my assistance?"

  This brought Deborah pause, and she scrutinized the ghost man curiously.

  "What sort of range do you got? How far can you be from that sterling star thing?"

  Merrick puffed out his chest, a hint of pride in his voice.

  "My best efforts have brought me to about three hundred meters in diameter in all directions. Any further than that, and my constitution starts to wane. My kind requires the Light as you need air, so any further is equivalent to suffocation."

  Deborah stroked her chin, humming thoughtfully.

  "Not bad," she conceded. "However, the city is much larger by about...well, more than I care to calculate. In the event that Laramie isn't in the immediate area, Jacob would need to move about freely to widen your search."

  "Which brings us directly back to the core issue," Howard chimed in. "Jacob needs the ability to move about freely, so how do we go about doing that?"

  "Two words: public relations," a voice announced.

  Everyone turned to see Lance standing in the doorway, hauling a large, wheeled steamer trunk. Howard swiftly pulled the boy inside, and he checked the hallway before shutting the door.

  "Lance, good to see you as always," he said, "but now is really not a good time. You might've been followed."

  "Nobody followed me," Lance said dismissively, dragging his trunk into the center of the room. "Wouldn't need to, anyway. There's no connection between me and the Midtown Knight...until now.

  He flung open the trunk, revealing an assortment of merchandise: T-shirts, coffee mugs, stickers, bathroom towels, and even some figurines, all of which possessed Jacob's likeness in perfect detail. Each item also bore a logo bearing the Sterling Star with the word "Midknight" engraved across it. Jacob, bewildered, approached the box, and he picked up a plastic figurine of him in his armor.

  "Uh, Lance, what is this?" he asked.

  "Pretty cool, huh?" Lance chirped, a proud grin on his face. "Programing the designs into my 3D Printer from memory were a chore, but I think I got your portions right. More articulated versions will be ready in a few days, so consider that a prototype. Oh, I even have a comic book!"

  He tossed said comic at Jacob, who fumbled with it before managing to open it.

  "What the...my head isn't that big, and what the heck is up with my hands?!"

  "Ok, I used AI for the art," Lance confessed. "I'm a craftsman, not an artist. But this is just to get your name out there. Once a reputable publisher takes an interest, we'll get a professional to do you justice. Oh, I've even programmed a few flash games for an online site I found that'll really..."

  Jacob suddenly took the boy by the shoulders and lifted him up until they were face-to-face. It wasn't gratitude Lance saw, but rather utter revulsion on Jacob's face.

  "I am detecting that you are unhappy," Lance stated bluntly.

  "You're darn right, you stupid turd!" Jacob snapped. "What even is all of this?! Are you trying to get me into even more trouble?"

  "Quite the contrary," Lance replied. "I've analyzed all the media coverage of the bazaar incident, and the only ammunition they have against you, besides the literal kind, is mass hysteria and overly bloated theatrics. Fortunately, we have a powerful means of repelling such social assassinations in the form of the internet, as well as a planet wide populace that has nothing better to do than watch random stuff online. I've got it all figured out."

  He wriggled out of Jacob's grip, and he went back to the chest, this time taking out a poster. It featured a distorted, AI-generated image that only vaguely resembled Jacob and his armor.

  "COME SEE THE MYSTICAL MIDKNIGHT!" the poster proclaimed. "FROM THE ANCIENT REALM OF KING ARTHUR, WITNESS SPECTACULAR FEATS OF STRENGTH AND VALOR AT HIS BIZARRE BAZAAR DEBUT!"

  Jacob noticed that it was dated for the day of the Bazaar, as though it were handed out on the days leading up to the event.

  "More of those are strategically placed in dumpsters around town, looking like discarded flyers," Lance explained. "This makes you look less like a terrorist and more like what you are: the right person in the wrong place. Your teleportation could easily be explained away as smoke bombs and fireworks. All we gotta do is establish your presence as a performer. A video here, a blog there, maybe some collaborations with a few online personalities, and presto! You're no longer the prime suspect, just the victim of a warped system. Easy peasy, lemon squeasy."

  Initially distracted by the assortment of trinkets and doodads Lance had brought, Howard finally paused as he estimated the time it would take to do all of this planning and prepping, and his brow furrowed with concern.

  "Lance," he asked, "how much sleep did you get last night?"

  "I don't sleep, doc. You know that." Lance responded flatly.

  "Now hold on!" Jacob burst out. "Seriously, this has to be the craziest load of bull I've ever heard in my life, and my uncle once worked as a rodeo clown!"

  Deborah, however, seemed unfazed, if not outright curious.

  "Crazy, yes," she mused "and yet I'm inclined to think it will work. I know all the patrol cars blind spots, and they're conveniently located in areas where our ghost friend can search."

  Jacob balked at her, as did Howard.

  "Are you completely out of your mind?!" they cried in unison before Howard took the lead. "Deborah, this is utterly asinine! The idea is to hide the boy, not shove him under a spotlight!"

  "The best place hiding places are often in plain sight," Deborah countered. "Believe me, this isn't my first choice, but it might be our only one. I'm convinced now, more than ever, that Jacob's uncle is connected to this-necessarily as a villain, but rather as someone caught in the middle. If we find him, maybe we can figure out at the very least get a lead on what's happening. The bombings, the legion: I'm positive they're all intertwined."

  "I don't care!" Jacob snapped. "There is no way, no possible way on this planet-no, in this dimension-that I am going out there! No way! Nope! Nada! Forget it!"

  "Jacob," Nina cooed as she floated up behind him, gently massaging his shoulders, "we know you're scared, but you must believe me when I say that they only want to help."

  She looked to Lance with a smile.

  "This one especially. I cannot help but smile when I look at him. He just radiates kindness."

  He turned back to Jacob.

  "It won't be like before. This time we will actively be keeping you out of danger. What is more, this will give us a wonderful opportunity to teach you how to use the powers of your heritage. Trust me, they'll be very handy one day, and right now you can use all the help you can get."

  Jacob stood as resolute as a statue, arms crossed and a sneer on his lips in pure defiance. However, much to his chagrin, he couldn't think of anything better to do. He was trapped, not by physical bars, but by the chilling logic that this awful situation was, unbelievably, the least awful option. Staying put meant eventual discovery, followed by a siege and either wrongful incarceration or painful death. No matter how he tried to rationalize any alternative, this truly was the best option available. With a frustrated surge of energy, he shoved Lance, Deborah, and Howard out of the bedroom and slammed the door. A moment later, the most shrill, blood-curdling scream could be heard followed by a brief silence. When the door opened again, Jacob emerged, cheeks flushed from fresh slaps as a manic energy radiated from him.

  "Alright! Let's do this thing!"