Blackwell's office smelled like old coffee but in comparison to the rest of the school it actually looked pretty good. Not that Isaac was keen on showing reverence for it.
He sat slouched in the chair opposite her desk, legs stretched out just enough to be disrespectful but not classless. Umbra sat beside him, back straight, hands folded, expression ever unreadable behind his tinted glasses.
Principal Blackwell was red-faced and already mid-rant.
"—absolutely unacceptable!" she snapped, jabbing a finger at a stack of pink discipline slips on her desk. "On his first day, Mister Dax, your son has managed to disrupt school peace, incite a multi-student altercation, and drag multiple gangs into a brawl on the front steps. Do you have any idea what that looks like on my incident reports?"
In his head, Ordis made a quiet, prideful huff. "A suitable exit for you Operator."
Isaac didn't react outwardly. He just watched Blackwell with that lazy, half-lidded irreverent look that tended to annoy authority figures.
"And you," she rounded on him, "sit there like you don't care! This is not a joke, young man! The school has enough problems without a new student deciding to play vigilante brawler!"
Seeing his devil may care attitude, she turned sharply to Umbra. "Mister Dax, you need to get your son under control."
Umbra huffed very softly and reached over, tapping Isaac once on the shoulder. A "behave" gesture.
Isaac sighed theatrically and sat up a little straighter, folding his hands in his lap like a properly chastised student.
"Principal Blackwell," he said, voice calm, "I didn't start the fight. The white supremacist did."
Her mouth tightened into an even deeper frown. "According to multiple witnesses, you struck the first blow, Mister Dax. You had an opportunity to de-escalate when your father stepped out of the car, and instead you chose violence."
In his head, the Operator had to concede, "Ok, she's got me there."
She pivoted back to Umbra, seizing on that point. "And you, Mister Dax—when you saw your son being surrounded by hostile students, you backed off because he told you he 'had it'? What parent does that? You should have removed him from the situation, not stood there and watched."
Umbra, like he had been from the beginning, just stared at her with no reaction. Just quiet, heavy presence that had gotten those kids earlier to think twice about coming close.
Blackwell's irritation faltered for half a heartbeat under the weight of that stare, but she pushed through.
Isaac stepped in before she could build momentum again.
"My father trusted me to handle my aggressors." he explained calmly. "If I hide behind him like a coward every time someone looks at me funny, then the Empire Eighty-Eight and every other gang in this building will just get bolder when he isn't around."
"That is not how this works," Blackwell snapped. "We have staff. We have procedures. The adults in this building will handle gang issues. You do not take matters into your own hands."
"Handle it," he repeated. "Like you handled Taylor Hebert?"
The Operator would have thought Frost was in the room with how fast Blackwell's expression froze. The flush in her cheeks cooled, her jaw tightening as she smoothed her hands flat on the desk.
It was almost impressive.
"I'm not sure what you think you know," she said carefully, "but Miss Hebert's situation is… complicated. Unfortunate, yes, but we are doing our best. The staff cannot be everywhere at once, and Miss Hebert herself has refused to cooperate with investigations on multiple occasions."
The Operator didn't buy a word of it, he already knew the real reason.
"So the problem," he said a condescension, "is that you're broke, understaffed, and incompetent."
Blackwell's eyes flashed dangerously, her anger showing through the mask. "Excuse me?"
"Well," Isaac went on mildly, ticking points off on his fingers, "you don't have enough staff to monitor your halls. You don't have enough support to protect even a single girl who got shoved in a locker full of biological waste. And you don't have enough resources to actually handle gangs on campus, so you're yelling at a student who defended himself instead of letting them bully him into submission."
"Operator," Ordis said warningly in his head, "are you sure this is a wise course of action. She does have the power to expel you and you did say you wanted to keep a low profile."
"Well that plan kinda got shot into the Void when I got into the brawl," he thought back. "The only thing I can do now to make up for it is build leverage."
Blackwell drew herself up to her full height, jaw clenched in anger. "You are out of line, Isaac Dax."
Isaac continued to speak like she wasn't even there.
"But," he said, tilting his head toward Umbra, "that's fixable. Right, Dad?"
Umbra's head turned slightly. One eyebrow ticked up a millimeter. This was not something they'd discussed or planned.
Isaac gave him a look that translated to Trust me.
Umbra reached into his jacket, pulled out a checkbook, and flipped it open.
He wrote quickly, pen scratching harshly in the office.
Ordis oohed softly in Isaac's head as he caught a look at the number through Umbra's eyes. "That is… generous, Operator. Are you sure you wish to entrust it to—THIS BIIIII—principal?"
"Well," the Operator answered, "if she embezzles it she'll go to jail on top of losing her job when the PRT investigation rolls in. If she doesn't, she'll get some good work done around here by the time her replacement steps up. So it's a win win."
Umbra finally finished writing the check, tore it out and set it on Blackwell's desk with a sharp slap.
She jumped a little but her eyes dropped to the paper and her pupils dilated as they zoomed in at the number.
Her mouth actually fell open for half a second before she caught herself.
"Th-that's…" she began, then stopped to read it again, as if she couldn't believe her eyes.
Isaac rose from his chair, deciding now was a time to exit the stage. Umbra stood at the same time, their movements near perfectly synced from years of partnership.
"Consider it an investment," Isaac said lightly. " Get some new staff. Better security. Maybe some actual functioning computers that weren't built before I was born. So next time I'm in this office, I'd better not hear 'understaffed and underfunded' as an excuse."
Blackwell tore her eyes away from the check long enough to glare at him again.
"We're not done here, young man," she said sharply. "You were involved in a major fight on school grounds. There will be disciplinary action. Suspensions, at minimum. We still need to go over—"
What she was saying was largely ignored, the Dax family was already moving towards the exit of her office but Isaac did answer her.
"Take it as my excuse note," he said over his shoulder, giving her a cheeky little wave. "Have a nice day, Principal Blackwell. I look forward to seeing what you do with the new resources at your disposal."
He turned and walked out without waiting to be dismissed. Umbra followed, leaving Blackwell standing behind her desk with a red face, a fat check in her hand, and no good way to say no.
They stepped out into the hall outside Blackwell's office, the door clicking shut behind them.
The little waiting area was still crowded.
Sophia was there, leaning against the wall with arms folded, looking like she'd rather be anywhere else but not in a way that expressed worry. The E88 kid with the bruised face and split lip sat in one of the chairs, glowering at the floor. The bloody-nosed student from the fight picked at a dried smear on his sleeve. Isaac's two almost-friends were camped a few steps away, trying to look casual and failing.
Isaac stopped just past the doorway, Umbra beside him.
He glanced over the group once before he clapped his hands once to draw all their attention.
"Good news," he said. "We're free to go."
A beat of silence.
"Wait, what—?" the bloody-nosed kid blurted, voice cracking.
"Yeah," Isaac went on, gesturing loosely to all of them. "All of us. Meeting's done. She's letting us off with a warning. Even you, Mr. Empire."
He pointed at the E88 kid.
The boy blinked, suspicion flickering written on his face. "You serious?"
"Do I look like I'm joking?" Isaac asked with a raised eyebrow.
He had thought about leaving the kid to the consequences of his action but with the leader having gotten away or been put in the nurse, he felt there was no point in singling him out. Besides, once the gang issue was taken care off, kids like this would go back to being just that—kids. So if he was going to start climbing Winslow's little social ladder, he might as well do it with some visible goodwill. Better to be known as the guy who got people out of trouble than the guy who left them in it.
Sophia's expression after he started talking was interesting.
In the beginning, she watched him with something that looked a lot like respect—eyes judging but not hating what she saw. Then her gaze slid to the E88 kid, when she heard "even you," and her jaw tightened. The respect cooled into a faint frown after that.
It seemed mercy did not impress her or maybe she just hated that any of the E88 would get cut some slack.
The bloody-nosed kid half-rose from his chair. "Uh, I—I, um, that's… that's good, I guess. I mean, thanks, I—"
The words tripped, collided, and died. His mouth opened and closed twice more but nothing coherent came out.
Social awkwardness, then.
The office door opened behind Isaac before he could respond, so he stepped aside.
"Why are you standing?" Blackwell demanded, voice sharp as she stepped out between umbra and him. "I told you to wait to be called in, not loiter and chatter."
Bloody nose flinched like someone had thrown a rock at him and the other looked at him like he lied.
Isaac turned smoothly, keeping his face guileless as he addressed her.
"Sorry, Principal Blackwell," he said. "I was just telling them you decided to let everyone off the hook with a verbal warning and no marks on their records. Right?"
Blackwell stared at him with annoyance. Then her gaze shifted to Umbra as if asking if she really had to go along with his son's nonsense..
Umbra gave the smallest of nods.
Her shoulders loosened by a hair and she inhaled and exhaled.
"…Yes," she said finally, addressing the group. "Given the… circumstances, and assurances I have received, I am willing to let this incident go with a warning. This time."
The E88 kid's brows shot up. The bloody-nosed kid and Isaac's two almost-friends sagged with visible relief.
Sophia watched Blackwell, then Isaac, filing their interaction away in her head.
"If there is another fight," Blackwell continued, "there will be suspensions. Possibly expulsions. Am I clear?"
Murmurs of "yes, ma'am" and "yes, Principal Blackwell" rose in a disorganized chorus.
"Good." She gave Isaac one more hard look, then stepped back into her office. The door shut again.
"Thanks," the bloody-nosed kid mumbled, still not quite meeting his eyes.
"Don't mention it," Isaac said. "Literally don't."
That got the tiniest huff of nervous laughter like he thought Isaac was joking but didn't get it.
He glanced over the small cluster. "Anyone want a ride home? We've got room for a few."
The E88 kid was already shaking his head before he finished the sentence.
"Nah," he said quickly, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I'll walk."
He peeled off down the hall alone, shoulders hunched, trying to look like he didn't owe anyone anything.
The bloody-nosed kid looked like he might say yes. His mouth opened, eyes flicking from Isaac to Umbra to the polished shoes and the expensive suit.
Then embarrassment crept in. His shoulders caved a little.
"I, uh… thanks, but I'll just—walk. It's not far," he said, lifting a weak hand in a half-wave before turning away.
"See you tomorrow, maybe," he added under his breath, already retreating.
Isaac watched him go, the nervous energy and hesitation a sharp contrast to the bloody state of his knuckles and nose. That one had potential, he realized—not for Echo Zero, but definitely as a fighter.
His two almost-friends didn't hesitate.
"We could—" the taller one started.
"Yeah, a ride would—" the shorter one said at the same time.
There words fumbled over each other but the Operator got the gist,
"Sure," Isaac said easily. "Come on. Cars where we—"
"I don't think that's a good idea," Sophia cut in.
Everyone looked at her.
She'd been quiet up to now, only watching and listening. Now she pushed off the wall and stepped closer, posture still casual but voice edged.
"You two are better off walking," she told the boys. "It's, what, ten minutes? You'll live."
They froze, caught between wanting the ride and not wanting to argue with the girl who could fold them in half. Not that Isaac would let her do that.
He turned his head and looked her in the eyes with unflinching confidence.
"I don't mind dropping them off," he replied, tone light but firm. "Doesn't matter how close they live. If they want a ride, they get one. Simple as that."
Sophia's gaze sharpened at the perceived challenge and she stepped closer into his personal space to glare up at the slightly taller boy. "And like I said, they want to walk."
The two boys looked back and forth between them—no doubt trying to decide if they should heed Sophia's subtle warning or stand their ground with Isaac.
In the end, their fear won.
"Thanks, man," the taller one said, rubbing the back of his neck a little awkwardly. "But uh, we'll, uh… we'll walk today. Maybe another time. Don't wanna be a third wheel."
"Yeah," the shorter one echoed, stepping back. "We'll catch you tomorrow. Later, Isaac. Good luck!"
They both retreated down the hall, looking relieved and disappointed at the same time.
The Operator nearly signed at the cowardice on display. Just like he thought, he really needed them to have a little more spine before they could truly be called his friends.
Even after they left though, Isaac didn't look away from Sophia for a good few seconds.
He considered, briefly, telling her to take her attitude somewhere else. He didn't like how she'd cut his gesture off and tried to assert authority over him and his acquaintances. But he wanted information more than he wanted the satisfaction of telling her to kick rocks.
He wanted to know what kind of "hero" bullied a girl like Taylor all year and then jumped into a brawl to help someone she didn't know. So instead, he tipped his head toward the exit.
"Looks like it's just us," he said. "After you?"
She snorted softly, but a corner of her mouth twitched in a smirk of her own like she had just won. She started walking out the door and down the hall.
Umbra fell into step half a pace behind Isaac as he followed her out.
They made their way out toward the front of the school where a redhead and short brunette were waiting just outside near the steps. The late afternoon light catching on the redhead's carefully styled hair and shorties too-bright grin.
Isaac recognized them immediately from his earlier info gathering in math class. The other two "Queen Bitches."
"There you are," Emma said, pushing off the railing to meet them or more accurately, Sophia. "We saw the fight but lost track when the teachers started grabbing people. You okay?"
"Peachy," Sophia said while jabbing a thumb at Isaac. "The empire barely laid a hand on me thanks to him."
Emma's gaze slid to Isaac, eyes assessing but friendly. "You must be Isaac," she said. "We've heard a lot about you already."
"A lot?" he echoed mildly. There shouldn't be much more than rumors going around at this point. Most students would only know him from the brawl or the cafeteria and that wasn't much to go off. "I hope you've heard only good things."
Madison stepped forward half a pace, hands clasped behind her back, smiling up at him with a cute innocent look that reminded him of one of his younger sisters somewhat.
"Something like that," she said. "You kind of made an impression. I'm Madison, by the way. Madison Clements. And this is Emma Barnes."
"Nice to meet you," Emma added, offering him a small, confident smile. "Interesting way to end the first day."
"Could've been quieter," Isaac commented like they were talking about the weather and not a full on brawl. "But it all turned out fine if you ask me."
Madison giggled at that like it was funnier than it was.
Sophia cut across the growing small talk.
"You two can go home without me," she said. "I'm gonna talk to him for a bit."
Emma's eyes flicked between Isaac and Sophia before widening, her lips and tone shifting into something teasing. "About what exactly?"
Sophia scowled at Emma in warning but answered anyway.
"I want to see if he's like us," she said.
She held Emma's gaze on the last word.
Isaac caught the way "us" landed between them like a shared secret.
Was Emma a parahuman or did "us" mean something else entirely?
Either way, whatever "us" meant, it did not seem to include Madison. Sophia didn't even glance her way when she said it and Madison didn't give any indication she knew there was even an implication in the word.
Emma, on the other hand, understood immediately. Her posture shifted, just a hair more relaxed, like a piece of a puzzle had snapped into place.
"Got it," Emma said seriously. "I'll see you tomorrow, then."
She turned to Isaac, smiling again. "It was nice meeting you, Isaac. See you tomorrow."
"Sure," he said as she stepped off towards the bus stop.
Madison lingered instead of following Emma immediately.
"Bye, Isaac," she said while blushing a little. "We should totally hang out more at school. Maybe lunch sometime?"
"We'll see how schedules line up," he answered, tone pleasant but giving her nothing solid to cling to.
She tried not to show the tiny flinch at the brush-off. "Right. See you."
Madison caught up to Emma and the two headed off down the sidewalk together, Emma already talking low and fast, Madison glancing back once before focusing on keeping up.
Isaac watched them go for a moment before turning to Sophia
Sophia jerked her chin toward the curb. "That's yours right?" she asked, looking at the car.
Umbra was already there, standing by the passenger side.
"Yeah, come on. I don't want to keep my dad waiting."
He walked ahead and, because Umbra would have done it if he didn't, he opened the rear door for her.
She scoffed. "You don't have to do that."
"I know," he replied with a smirk. "Force of habit."
There was a pause, like she was considering refusing just on principle. Then she slid into the back seat without further comment.
"Thanks," she muttered, almost too quiet to catch.
He closed the door lightly, walked around the other side, and got in next to her. Umbra got in the driver's seat again, hand light on the wheel as he started it up.
"Where to?" Isaac asked, buckling his seatbelt.
"Downtown," Sophia said. She didn't buckle her own. "Drop me near the Boardwalk."
He didn't need to think long about what was there for a Ward like her, PRT ENE.
"Sure," he said, like it meant nothing more than malls and food stalls.
Umbra pulled away from the curb, merging smoothly into the sluggish Brockton Bay traffic.
For a while, the only sounds were the hum of the engine and the road as Sophia just stared out her window.
Halfway to the first lights, she spoke.
"Why doesn't he talk?" she asked, nodding toward the front.
Isaac glanced at Umbra's profile, then back at her.
"A disease took his voice years ago," he said the truth casually. There was no need to lie after all.
Sophia went still for a second.
"Oh," she said and that was all.
She didn't apologize or say sorry to hear that. She just turned her head back to the glass, watching the city slide past.
The silence settled back in.
Isaac let it sit, staring at the back of Umbra's seat as he thought about how to begin questioning her.
After more time letting the silence stretch a bit longer, he broke it with a simple question.
"So," he said, tone light, "why'd you jump in?"
Sophia didn't look away from the window. "What, you wanted to get dogpiled?" she shot back.
"No, I appreciate the help, I'm just curious."
She huffed at that for some reason but didn't say anything.
"So…?" he prompted again.
Sophia shrugged, eyes still on the passing street. "Eighty-Eight assholes think they own the place because their gang is the biggest. We don't need that crap at Winslow."
It was the kind of answer she could've given anyone. Clean. Civic-minded, even. But it didn't feel like her so he just waited instead of responding.
"And," she added after a moment, "I don't like watching four-on-one unless the one deserves it."
There it was, a hint of her real mindset under the surface, but it still wasn't completely her. After all, Sophia had teamed up with two other girls to bully Taylor.
"Hmmm, that so?" Isaac asked, voice mild. "Excuse me if I'm being rude but you don't come off as the defender of the weak type. So what made you think I deserved the help?"
Sophia finally turned her head, finally meeting his eyes.
"You weren't acting like prey." She said simply.
"Prey," Isaac repeated despite grasping her meaning already. "So that's how it is huh? Everyone's a predator or prey?"
"Yeah," she said with a bit of excitement, like she found a kindred soul in him. "Some people are at the top. Some aren't. The ones at the top survive. The rest get eaten."
"So I guess that means I'm a predator like you?" he asked.
She frowned slightly, still sizing him up. "Haven't decided yet," she said. "You fight like a predator. But then you went and pulled strings to let that skinhead walk. That's not something a real predator does."
"Really?" he asked contemplatively with a smirk. "Then maybe I'm a prey animal with good reflexes?"
She scoffed. "Why'd you do that anyways? You think he's gonna thank you? Because he's not. You embarrassed him in front of everyone, then saved his ass from suspension. That kind of guy? He'll hate you more for it."
The Operator considered that. She could be right, he was a racist gangster after all. But she could also be wrong. He was still young. With time and experience, he could change his perspective and mature for the better.
Regardless of which path that kid would take, Isaac needed to correct a misunderstanding Sofia had of him.
"You know, despite what you think, I'm not exactly big on mercy," he explained while looking at the roof of the car. "Or second chances. Especially when I don't know someone's story."
A flicker of something passed over his face. Flashes of memory showing the various enemies he fell with gun and blade and the very few he spared that ended up becoming allies or remaining enemies. He pushed it down to focus.
"But," he went on, "someone important to me was. If there's a chance her way works better here than it did where I'm from… I can afford to test it."
Sophia watched him talk, curiosity apparent on her features but she didn't say anything.
"Besides," he added, "It's like you said, the dudes embarrassed. If something's gonna make him change his ways, it'll be that. Not a blemish on his attendance record."
She snorted in derision.
"That's too much benefit of the doubt for someone who'd put a boot in your ribs if you tripped," she said. "I don't know who you're trying to follow in the footsteps of but that kind of mercy gets you hurt around here or worse."
"Maybe," he responded nonchalantly. "Or maybe it buys you something later. A hesitation. An early warning. Or nothing at all and I'm exactly where I started. I can live with that."
"So that's it?" she asked, frustration bleeding into her tone. "Make a point, then play nice and hope for the best? That's your big philosophy?"
He smiled slightly at her. "Would it help if I said I'm just… very complicated? Like an omnivore?"
She stared at him, unamused and confused.
"Little bit of grass," he went on, "little bit of meat. Help the herd when it's useful, take a bite out of anything that gets too close."
Her snarled expression said clearly she was not in the mood for jokes.
"You making fun of me?" she asked, voice going cold.
"No," he answered, letting the joke fall away. "I'm trying to say the world isn't as simple as 'predator or prey.'"
"It is," she shot back immediately. "You can see it all around you. Especially in Brockton."
She gestured at the city outside. "Merchants. ABB. Eighty-Eight. People who fight, people who get walked on. That's it. Everything else is a lie people tell themselves so they don't have to admit they're food."
He leaned his head back against the seat, studying her before dropping the bomb.
"And Taylor?" he asked quietly. "She's food?"
Sophia froze for a heartbeat that told him she hadn't expected him to know. Then she forced herself to relax, gaze hardening.
"She lets herself be," Sophia said without remorse. "She could hit back. She doesn't. She just… takes it. Hides. Cries. That's not on us. That's on her."
Isaac didn't bother arguing with that directly. There was no point when someone was as remorseless and honorless as Sophia.
"That so? See, the thing about your model," he said instead, "is that it pretends being strong is a permanent state."
She frowned in confusion at the non sequitur. "What?"
"Even lions get old," he said a bit hypocritically. Warframes didn't and neither did he. "Sick. Tired. Or just unlucky. And sometimes," he added, "Even prey animals can bring one down if there's enough of them. Or if the lion is arrogant enough to keep pretending the prey can't be dangerous."
She looked at him like he'd told a bad joke, but he was speaking from experience. A single Grineer marine would never beat even a newly awakened Tenno—but a thousand of them? Then the odds got interesting.
"Sounds like prey talk," she said dismissively and Isaac nearly rolled his eyes at her ignorance.
"Listen, predator and prey is a nice story," he continued. "Makes it easy to decide who deserves what from a certain viewpoint. But the world's messier than that. For example, did you know parahumans get their powers from something called a trigger event?"
Her glare sharpened, jaw tight, but she didn't answer. So he kept going despite knowing he was touching a sensitive topic.
"Barring second-gen capes like Glory Girl, trigger events happen when someone hits the lowest point of their life," Isaac continued. "In other words, when they're at their weakest. By your predator-prey worldview, that makes them prey—too weak to stop what was happening to them until the universe or whatever the source of powers is, bailed them out."
He watched her carefully as he asked the next question.
"Do people like that really deserve to be called predators? Do they deserve the same label as people who put in the work to never be victims in the first place?"
She was glaring hard now, not even trying to hide her hostility but Isaac remained smiling and inquisitive like he was completely oblivious to her wrath. Even so, she didn't lash out and instead calmed herself to ponder his words.
"Deserve's a useless word," she said after some time thinking. "The world doesn't care who 'earned' what. You get power, or you don't. You use it, or you don't. That's it."
She looked back out the window.
"Some of those Parahumans?" she went on. "They get powers and still act like prey. They hide, cry about how it's not fair and let people walk all over them and blame everyone else when it doesn't magically fix their life. I don't care how they got their powers or how strong they are with them. If they live like prey, they are prey."
"And the ones who don't?" Isaac asked despite being able to predict the answer.
"Those are predators," she said simply. "Doesn't matter where they started. They stand up. They hit back. They take what they want and don't apologize for it. You don't get a medal because you 'trained harder' to get there first. You either are or you're not."
"Sounds a little like villain talk," he pointed out.
She just shrugged as if to say that's just the way it is.
Isaac glanced out the window and realized they'd pulled up near the Boardwalk. This conversation was over.
For now.
Umbra eased the car to a stop at the curb.
"Well," Isaac said, sounding disappointed that their talk had to end,, "this was… honestly more fun than I expected."
Sophia huffed a little. "You've got a weird idea of fun."
"Occupational hazard," he half joked. "See you at school, Sophia."
She opened the door without returning the goodbye before pausing with one foot out.
"I still haven't decided what you are," she said, glancing back at him. "But if you're prey, you're the weirdest-looking prey I've ever seen."
He smiled faintly. "Is that a compliment?"
She rolled her eyes, muttered something under her breath and stepped out, shutting the door with a solid thunk.
Umbra pulled away once she'd cleared the sidewalk, the Boardwalk sliding past behind them as Brockton Bay swallowed her back up.
__________________________________________________
Cough, cough… side eye
Did you guys know you can support me? Right now there aren't a ton of benefits, but if you want to help an author out, those perks can grow fast down the line.
For now, I'm planning to start posting some unreleased fics on my (currently empty) Ko-fi and Patreon very soon. One of them is Overlord: Kill the Justice League(literally no relation to the Suicide Squad game—I wrote this before the game was even announced), where an OC/SI gets put into Ainz's body by a ROB and ordered to take out the League in the most entertaining way possible.
I'm also going to do some short non-canon "what if" chapters for Earth-Bet Protocol, with the Operator just messing around instead of taking things seriously. These bonus chapters will have chaotic continuity and may include spoilers for the main canon, so read at your own risk when they drop.
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