“You’re right.” I smirked. “It was agreatnap.”
Dillon gave me the finger and Whisper chuffed as if fully enjoying himself.
Frank frowned, studying Rook as if his eyes had become microscopes. Shuffling higher in his chair, he slipped into the interrogation I’d known was coming. “So two days you’ve been here but not really here...if you know what I mean. Two days where your bodies didn’t break. Two days where you stabilised each other. The fact that you haven’t died yet is incredible but...you’re actually looking marginally better. Tell me. How are you both feeling?”
I answered for both of us. “The constant pain has faded and we’re no longer utterly exhausted but...” I flashed Rook a look, unsure if she wanted me to share or not.
She just nodded.
I continued, “That was the fourth time we’ve fallen into the dreamscape and each time its healing capabilities are less.”
“Less how?” Frank demanded.
Rook took over. “To give you context, when we first triggered the ascension, our powers were unbearably strong. We had no idea how to wield them, and it was actually Dil who taught me that they were probably emotionally based.”
“You’re welcome.” Dillon smirked as Whisper prowled around the room, sniffing stuff.
“Up until the night in the mountains, that power felt...friendly. It answered us, even if we didn’t fully understand how to call it. It gave us what we wanted and felt happy to do it, but now...” She sighed, struggling to put it into words.
“Now it feels like our enemy,” I said. “It completely abandoned us after the mountain almost as if we’d proven ourselves unworthy. We couldn’t access it at all—and believe me, we tried. It only returned when we tripped into the dreamscape...almost as ifwe’d tapped into the very place where it originated. It allowed us to use it again but at a much greater cost.”
“What cost?” Frank asked warily.
“Pain? Decay? Death?” I shrugged. “Take your pick. Each time we wake with power, it obeys us for a little while before recoiling with agonising backlash.”
I shivered as I sank into the furnace where the flames existed.
Utterly empty one second, it surged with red hot fury the next. It put me on constant edge because I couldn’t predict if the fire was trying to keep me alive or kill me.
“Same for me,” Rook said. “The ice feels like it’swaitingfor something. It’s angry and impatient and refuses to answer any of my requests...almost as if I don’t matter anymore.”
Frank rubbed a hand over his exhausted face. “That’s a lot of information and I guess...I guess it makes sense.”
“What makes sense?” Rook asked, leaning forward in interest.
“Well...the Requiem gene was never about granting magical powers but about creating something better than human. I suppose whatever evolution is happening inside you has decided it can do better.”
“Dobetter?” I growled.
“But what about what you told me?” Dillon cut in, planting his boots on the ground and clasping his hands between his spread legs. “You said the reason a particular frequency can override the Requiem change is because everything vibrates, right? That’s how the collars and Rook’s necklace worked. So...wouldn’t it make sense to keep trying to find the frequency that fixes them?”
Frank nodded slowly. “You’re right that frequency is the language of reality. At the quantum level, nothing is truly solid. Everything—atoms, cells, thoughts, even souls—are just energy vibrating at different rates. That’s why we thought we’d cracked immortality because the Requiem gene isn’t supposed to just rewrite DNA but to change it to a frequency where death can’t affect it.”
“And once again, this is well over my pay grade,” Dillon muttered.
“However...” Frank continued. “If the powers are becoming sentient and no longer just existing on a frequency plane, then...it’s resenting the symbiotic relationship with you.” His voice trailed off, worry pinching his eyes. “After all, the butterfly doesn’t care if the caterpillar has to die.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dillon grouched. “I sweartalking to you makes my head hurt.”
Frank rubbed his temples, looking ten years older than before. “Think of your powers like parasites. They’ve lived inside you ever since you were born—feeding off you, growing stronger right alongside you. For a long time, they’ve had a good deal. They had a healthy, young host they could use. But now...that power knows you’re dying.”
He looked between us, eyes heavy with guilt. “Parasites will feed until there is nothing left. It might be keeping you alive by allowing you to slip into the source, but ultimately, it’s breaking you down and trying to wring out every last drop of energy before your body fails completely. Which is actually...positive news.”
“Positive?” Rook blinked. “How the hell is that positive?”
“Because parasites can be killed.” Frank shot to his feet, eyes sharpening with hope. “Worms, mites, tapeworms, malaria—we’ve eradicated countless parasitic infections throughout history. We have treatments designed specifically to target and destroy them without necessarily destroying the host. If your powers have truly become parasitic, then we finally have a clear target. Something concrete we can fight.”
He gestured between us, warming to his idea. “Once we kill it, hopefully the remainder of the Requiem gene will go dormant. Or better yet, it could cease to exist completely. None of the other test subjects lasted long enough to see a separation of person and power. It might be doing you a favour by turning on you because if we can isolate it and figure out a way to remove it...you could return to just being human.”
