He’s still missing? No, I haven’t seen him. Yes, it is unlike him to just miss so much work. What else am I supposed to say? That I have somehow been turned into some kind of blood-thirsty monster ever since I got trapped in that super nova? That I had seen Avery recently, and that in a fit of hunger I completely drained him of his life? That his body now lays shriveled up and buried in the wirings at the foot of my mech where the eldritch horror that possessed it can keep it hidden?

I’m sure that would go over well.

It’s not like I want to keep Avery’s death hidden. It’s not that I haven’t been tormented by those events for the last 72 hours. But what can I do? Even if they did believe me when I tell them a sun soul named Eaden has taken up residence in my mech, nothing good could come of it. They’d disassemble it, if they survived any attacks Eaden could throw at them. And then they’d disassemble me. And since I’m not entirely sure how mortal I am right now, I’d rather not run the risk of living through that.

See, sun souls are a lot like phoenixes. Except instead of rising from the fiery ashes of their old body, they burst forth from the cold, dense expenses of their dead energies. Since I had the good fortune of being near one when it was reviving, it decided that the energy signatures of my mech’s reactor core were preferable to the cold void of what should have been their new home. 

It’s not going to be a problem.

And, oh, yes, it can apparently read my mind and communicate telepathically whenever it sees fit. That won’t prove to be a problem, I’m sure.

“We can’t hide this forever.” I don’t know why I bother speaking out loud to it. Feels more normal that way, somehow. Like I’m not living a page straight out of some horror novel.

You can’t. I can.

Cockiest piece of shit I’ve ever known. Yes, fine, Eaden can control my mech at will. Sure, of course, it can then gain access to all of the systems and programs in place at headquarters. But just because a sun soul can somehow, miraculously figure out how to instantly hack and play around with data without leaving a trace doesn’t mean we’re not going to get caught. We may live in a technology age, but that doesn’t mean human intuition and interference just goes away.

Careful.

Eaden’s warning comes too late. I would think I’d feel some kind of pain from having cut my finger off. But as I watch the detached appendage roll around on the floor, I don’t really feel anything. Which is not to say I no longer have nerves. I clearly do. I can feel a great many things. But it occurs to me that I have not experienced pain, physical pain that is, since the incident. 

What I do feel is a tingling at the base of where the finger used to be. I hold my hand up to the hanging flashlight, no blood spilling out in the beam. It’s growing back. Inch by inch, growing back out in layers, like it was sticking out in a 3-D printer. It’s a slow process, but in a few minutes, my finger is both on the ground by my feet and securely attached to my hand. 

Rose up from the base. Like a phoenix.

BANG BANG BANG

The clanking against the outside of my mech jolts me out of my stupor. “You need any help in there?” It’s one of the other mechanics. I had told them all to stay away, that with Avery missing it was best I work on the mech until we knew what was going on. Can’t exactly fault them for being helpful, no matter how much I want to.

“No,” I call back. “I’m almost done.”

In truth, I am completely done. Done with Eaden’s thoughts in my head. Done with the memories of my return and Avery’s death. Done with new and weird things happening to my body. If I could be certain that disassembly would ensure death, I’d tell everyone what happened.

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