Chapter 78: Doppelganger
In the days that followed the Megamantis incident, the Ninth Department scrambled.
The Cloud Nine Squad had to send the old man Hermes struck to an ambulance, but it was a hollow gesture. He was already dead on arrival.
Rigor mortis had set in before the sirens could be heard. His body had hit the pavement with such quiet finality that even the bystanders hadn’t realized until Somner barked for a stretcher.
The fire Hermes conjured to trap the anti-Threat protesters was finally put out. Not before the smoke had stolen air from throats and left a few unconscious, their lungs charred by magic ash.
Some were carried out with blistered skin, others left gasping, pale, vomit-stained. The scent of burnt acrylic and scorched flags lingered like trauma in the streets.
Somner had used Sirentone, amplifying his voice into everyone’s spine.
"Remain calm. Assistance is coming. Step away from danger."
Each word laced with resonant command. Civilians obeyed. Hero medics arrived within minutes. They moved like bees over the wounded.
Vera didn’t need to be told twice. When Somner nodded, she mounted her death unicorn and charged. Its silver hooves cracked the ground and its horn glowed dark violet. One strike to the Megamantis’ skull ended its endless shrieking.
A quick mercy. No glamour. No drama. Just execution.
Clean-up was brutal.
And costly.
Buildings melted. Streets cracked. Magical residue bled from the air like low fog. The hero association sent containment units. The media, as expected, devoured the story.
Headlines competed with louder fonts: "Threat Agent Causes Chaos!""Golden Apple Guild Member Slays Protester!""Megamantis Rampage: Who Is to Blame?"
The internet didn’t need facts. It needed blood. And it had enough to work with.
Somner, as the director of the Ninth Department and commander of the Cloud Nine Squad, took the frontlines of damage control.
He called press conferences with a face like it had been chiseled out of stone.
"The death of Mr. Jorren Vell is a tragic accident," he stated before the flashing cameras. "He had brandished a firearm. Our employee, Hermes, acted in self-defense."
A half-truth. And therefore harder to disprove.
Behind closed doors, Somner moved with greater precision. His voice slid into calls, into witness minds, into the heads of politicians and backroom influencers. He found all the protesters that might think of suing him and his department. He reminded them, with careful intensity, that their actions could be seen as endangering a minor. Threat or not.
There were enough legal consequences to keep them quiet.
Dante Quasar, meanwhile, handled the matter of the child.
"I’ll take care of him," he assured Hermes, the infant floating beside him in a sleeping spell. "I’ll locate his family and compensate them."
Hermes looked at the boy’s tiny hands, curled like budding petals. The same hands that had been clenched in fear not long ago.
"And his age?"
"I will reach out to chronomancers," Dante replied. "Someone out there can undo what you did. If not completely, then enough. But it will take time."
Hermes had nodded. Distant. Tired.
Dante gave a kindly smile. "Go home, Hermes. Rest. Take a break."
A break. Again.
Hermes remembered the last one. Two months. Back then, he’d barely healed from his own disintegration. He managed to work four months before the next crisis clawed at his throat.
He said nothing. He just nodded again.
***
Home was strange.
Not because anything had changed. But because he had.
Aphrodite was already there, curled on the couch like a painter’s model, thin fingers running over a philosophy book he was reading.
Xolotl barked once and pounced, tail wagging. The three Grrberus puppies followed, yipping like synchronized echoes. One of them bit Hermes’ shoelace and refused to let go.
"Hey," Hermes said weakly, crouching to pet them all at once.
"Something is amiss, my Lord." One of the Grrberus puppies said.
Another sniffed the air. "I sense the presence of another..."
The last one whimpered, its tale between its legs. "My lord, what is it? It frightens me so..."
Soon enough, someone stepped through the doorway behind Hermes.
The doppelganger.
Same face. Same body. But not the same.
It didn’t speak. Just stood there, head tilting as it scanned the living room. It moved like a reflection trying to become real.
Hermes coughed awkwardly. "So uh. Yeah. This is... well, he’s me. Sort of. He was the inner beast inside me, my more violent side. I asked the CEO of my company to separate us two... It’s a long story."
Aphrodite didn’t blink. But his eyes narrowed slightly.
"He doesn’t have a name. I thought maybe I could ask him what he wants to be called."
The beast said nothing.
Aphrodite broke the silence. "Try Mindbloom."
Hermes focused. He reached into the network of thought-threads and emotions. Into that sweet subconscious where Aphrodite’s mind was always writing poetry about pain and peace and being seen.
But when he reached toward the beast’s mind...
Nothing.
Not a wall. Not a blank.
Just too many voices, maybe. Too much chaos. Or something else entirely.
Hermes exhaled. "I can’t read him."
"Neither can I." Aphrodite murmured, voice distant. "It’s not like Sirentone. Mindbloom doesn’t cancel out if two people have it. So this... this is different."
The beast turned toward the kitchen.
And spoke.
"Hungry."
Hermes flinched.
Aphrodite didn’t. He stood and went to the kitchen. Pulled out a pan and eggs and herbs, moving without speaking. The puppies followed him like shadows.
Hermes stayed in the dining room with the doppelganger. They sat.
Silence again. Not awkward. Just dense.
Hermes tried. "Do you know what you want to be called?"
The beast looked at the bowl of fruit in the center of the table. Reached. Grabbed something round. Bit into it.
"Apple." He just said.
Hermes blinked. "Apple? Is that your name? Are you sure?"
The beast chewed. Swallowed. Said nothing. But he didn’t object.
"Alright," Hermes said, smiling sheepishly. "Apple it is."
***
Aphrodite’s thoughts were quieter now, but Hermes could still read them:
["He is dangerous. If this is truly his aggressive side in the flesh... Then who knows what he might do now that he is free from the confines of Hermes’ mind?"]
["But maybe... maybe this is what Hermes needs. To see himself as the good man that we know. To love himself. To tame the part he fears."]
["Or maybe I just hope too much."]
Hermes glanced at Apple. The beast stared at the spoon in front of him like it was a foreign concept.
"You eat with that," Hermes said, picking up his own spoon. "Watch."
Apple mimicked. Almost perfectly.
There was something unnerving about it. Like teaching a mirror how to blink.
"Guess this is my life now," Hermes muttered. "I have a twin named Apple."
In the kitchen, Aphrodite stirred the pot while pretending not to eavesdrop. But Hermes can see that small hint of a smile on his lips, a sign that he’s trying not to laugh.
Hermes never had a sibling before. This felt like how it would be to have a younger brother.
And maybe that won’t be so bad.