I landed in the park behind our house and scanned the area. Flo let her mana seep into the surroundings: no humans, just a few squirrels, some sleeping birds, hedgehogs, and a couple of stray cats.


    When she neared the first lampposts, she paused. Was mana dangerous to electronics, or even to electric devices in general? I remembered the warlock at Tim’s party—his aura was strong, yet nothing exploded; the stereo worked just fine. Maybe I was overthinking it? But then, at the compound, all electronics fried when the black angel unleashed his aura.


    Alright, I reasoned, it must be about concentration. Auras with high mana concentration seem to burn out electronics, just like when Flo tried to probe my phone too hard. A weaker mana aura, it seemed, was mostly harmless.


    “Can you let your aura be weak and still make your mana inspection?”


    “Yes, but that makes the area I can check smaller and the view less precise.”


    “Do so; it is better to keep everything functioning.”


    “OK, all I could find was a weasel in addition to those two cats; there is nothing else in this part of the park.”


    These damn horns were such a thrill to have! The mana sight they granted me was incredible: a spatial domain where I could "see" everything around me, even to some depth below ground or high above. It was amazing—and a bit overwhelming. My brain was still adjusting, but thankfully, Flo was helping me train. I could zoom in on any spot within this range and see a tiny earthworm slowly tunneling through the soil beneath me. The sight was still a bit fuzzy, and too much mana might accidentally fry some electronic device nearby, but it was seriously cool.


    I figured I''d need to run a few tests to find the threshold where things started to short out—but I definitely wanted to keep these horns.


    And then, there were the wings. I''d always dreamed of flying, and now it was real! A few beats, and I could soar wherever I wanted. It was such an incredible gift!


    But, on the other hand, they were such a big pain in the ass in day-to-day life. How was I supposed to move around without drawing stares? Sit on a bench at school? Walk in line? Stand in the middle of a crowd without someone brushing against them? Not exactly easy.


    They were so flexible, though. Maybe I could find a way to wrap them up, keep them out of sight? Now that would be a game-changer.


    "Stop dreaming, Dolores!" I scolded myself. The priority now was figuring out if I could keep living as Dolores without them tracking me down. I needed to know if hiding my identity when renting that coffin was enough to keep whoever they were from piecing together who I really was.


    To get those answers, I had to understand why they''d taken me in the first place. What exactly did I do to make myself a target?


    It was risky, and I had to summon every ounce of courage for it. Taking a deep breath, I steeled myself.


    It was time to make my appearance. Flo transformed me back into Dolores. I trusted she did a good job; no way was I about to risk using her magic mirror-light trick to double-check here. That might just expose me.


    Letting her peel away the layers of magic that camouflaged me—she could simply bend light around me, if you can call that simple—I stepped out from behind the trees where I’d been hiding. I walked carefully, keeping my pace steady, trying to look as casual as possible as I moved toward the house. I stopped by my usual tree near the back, took a last glance around, and closed my eyes, willing everything to be alright.


    “Come on, Dolores, it will be alright,” I whispered to myself, steadying my breathing. Just as I started to climb, I heard a noise. A car door slammed. I turned, and out stepped a massive shadow from the car.


    I knew it. Damn it, this was a trap!


    Before I could spread my wings and fly away, I heard him:


    “Dolores! Dolores! Pssst! Dolores!”


    That made me hesitate for another couple of seconds. Something did not quite fit with the idea of a trap. A sole person coming from the street saying my name? This was the trap?


    And then I recognized the shadow: Gonzo! It was a trap, but it was Gonzo''s trap.


    “What the fuck, Gonzo? What is it?”


    He came running and started to whisper so fast that I barely understood him:


    “Dolores, I need your help; you need to come to my truck, please!”


    I watched him intensively. I have life and death fears, and the idiot comes with another one of his love stories? I should be angry with him, but I could not. Probably Helen had told him to fuck off.


    “Gonzo, it is late in the night. I''ll go to sleep, and we''ll talk tomorrow after school. Is this OK?”


    He shook his head desperately.


    “No, no, no! It can’t wait; I need you now! Please!”


    I knew I’d give in—I always did. Saying no had never been my strength. If someone asked me for something, my instinct was to say yes, even if I’d end up fuming afterward. Why am I like this? Get a grip, Dolores!


    In life, you’ve got to learn to say no. People need to understand you’re not just available on demand. I had enough of my own mess without adding his to the list.


    “No, Gonzo, this isn’t happening. I’m going home to sleep.”


    I turned to climb the tree, but he grabbed my arm firmly. I turned back, almost ready to swing at him.


    “Please!” - he said. He had tears in his eyes, and his chin trembled.


    For fuck''s sake, Gonzo, what have you done? I wondered. I took a deep breath.


    “OK, what is it?”


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    “Please come to my truck. It is here parked; please come!”


    Was this an attempted kidnapping? I was strong enough to beat the crap out of him and some. He probably did not know that, but it was a fact. He came very close to my face, and I thought he wanted to kiss me. The way he behaved, I really thought he had gone mad.


    “Helen is dying; please help me!”


    He whispered that in my ear, and I froze. As he saw that I no longer intended to leave, he released my arm.


    “I didn''t know who else to ask; please help me!”


    My brain was kicked again into high gear, and I tried to imagine what could have happened. Did they have an accident? But then why me? Why is she not in a hospital?


    “OK, where is your truck?”


    What did he think I could do?


    He turned and walked a couple of steps, then looked back to see if I follow. When he saw that I did, he started running towards the street that meandered along the park''s edge. I recognized his truck parked on the park''s side.


    He ran and opened the cabin''s door. I climbed in and saw behind the two front chairs, sitting on a kind of an improvised bed, a very pale Helen holding a hand on a bloodied bandage that tied her belly.


    “She had been shot and does not want to go to a hospital!” - said Gonzo after having shut the door behind him. He was close behind me, almost pushing my ass, but I could not move for a couple of seconds, shocked by what I was seeing.


    Did they try to rob a bank? What on earth did they do?


    “Hi!” - said Helen with a meek voice - “Gonzo said you might be able to help me? I think I will be alright; I just need some rest.”


    She was speaking softly, keeping her hand''s pressure over her wound. I ducked and walked over to her, navigating with difficulty between the two chairs. Gonzo followed, so low as he almost was on all four. Why did he not open the back door?


    “What the hell happened?”


    They exchanged a look, and then Helen spoke:


    “There was a raid in our location. A military raid. They started shooting at those who were fleeing. I saw how they shot Mike. Mike is dead! Hans was wounded. I ran, and a stray bullet got me. Gonzo found me in a ditch when he tried to get into the building. This crazy guy wanted to get inside to find me; this is how I got stranded in his truck. Somebody must have done something horrible to have the army crackdown on us like that. Not the police, not even the federals, the army!”


    At that moment, the wheels slipped into position and started to roll in my head. Now it started to make sense. I had been hooked on their servers. There was a raid on their compound; they have been a target, or maybe the target. I was a secondary target, probably because I was on their servers. Gonzo had driven to their compound immediately after talking with me. I looked at Gonzo:


    “When did you find her?”


    “After we met, I drove to the dreamer''s compound. The raid was already happening; I saw it, so I parked further away and approached the compound over the fields. I found her there in a trench.”


    So the raid happened before, and they came hours later to take me. Probably they took their sweet time to find and identify the gamer''s servers and their connections. The question still stands: why did they do that?


    Whilst he spoke, I came closer to her and put a hand on her belly. I never imagined Helen to be so valiant.


    I let Flo make her inspection then I talked with her:


    “This will not heal by itself. The bullet is still in; you need an urgent operation; such belly wounds are life-threatening!”


    She hesitated, looked at me, and then back at Gonzo.


    “And you know that after putting your dirty hand on my belly? Is this some kind of voodoo? I''m not going to a hospital! You thought she would convince me?”


    “Maybe we should go to your uncle, the gynecologist?”


    “No. If the wound gets infected, then I''ll have to take the risk. I don''t know what you expected from Dolores.” - she turned to look at me - “No offence, but what can you do?”


    “Can you heal her like you healed you?” - whispered Gonzo in my ear.


    I hesitated.


    “She will most probably die.” - whispered Flo at her turn.


    She is probably wrong; she does not know modern medicine, and yet I saw his teary eyes.


    “What... what... what are you?!” she asked suddenly and raised her hand to point above my head with difficulty.


    “Your... your... horn...” - mumbled Gonzo - "is partially visible... it seems to be blood?"


    I sighed. I''ve forgotten about John scratching his hand in my horn. Part of the horn must be visible due to a couple of blood drops that must have crept along it.


    “John''s blood, oh, fuck!”


    I put my left hand on her forehead, forcing her into a deep slumber while I took a knife in my right hand. Gonzo jumped with both hands, grappling my right hand with the knife.


    “No, please, no!” - he wept, looking with wide, horrified eyes at me.


    I sighed while Helen tried desperately to move from under my left hand, her power dwindling fast.


    “Calm down, Gonzo!” - I said, keeping my hand steady - “I need to remove her bullet first.”


    “You... you..” - he mumbled while his hands slowly released my hand.


    “Sure, I''ll heal her, and she will forget. Is it OK?”


    I could hear his loud heart beating like crazy in his chest, but he nodded, finally reassured, calming down. Sweat was running down his temples.


    I sighed and concentrated on her. She had, meanwhile, lost her conscience, falling into a kind of forced sleep. The knife cut through her bandage and weak flesh, blood dripping around her wound. I plunged my fingers into her wound and retrieved the bullet that had been stuck in her pelvis bone. I had to push with the other hand down to unstuck it.


    “Here.” - I said, giving Gonzo the bullet with a bloodied hand while I healed her.


    “Thank you!” - he said, looking with wide eyes at the bloodied piece of metal, then after a pause, he asked, not daring to look into my eyes - “Did you have trouble with ...John?”


    I rolled my eyes:


    “That idiot scratched his arm into my horn when I was sleeping. He survived the commotion and was OK when I left him, even if I did not heal him. Now when I think about it, I hope he does not get an infection from that." - I sighed - "Do you want to know more about him?”


    I raised my eyes and looked at him. He breathed deep while an ashamed smile fluttered over his face.


    “Sorry!” - he said - “I know you, and yet I was such a dork to think bad about you. Please excuse me.”


    I waved my hand. I was used to people thinking bad about me. Hmm, why so, actually?


    He continued:


    “What should I do now?”


    I shrugged again:


    “I don''t know, Gonzo. She should be good now; you can let her free in the wild?” - he did not laugh at my joke. I sighed - “She should recover in about ten to fifteen minutes from the forced sleep. That might give her a bit of a headache but nothing more. I guess she will forget the last couple of hours, maybe more. So you have ten minutes to think about what you want to tell her. What was that with the army?”


    “I don''t know more than she told you. It was a huge raid; there were many people and tens of trucks there. I saw them removing all those that were using the dream interface. They did not even wake them up but took them like this. I could not see clearly as I was relatively far away when I found Helen and I left with her. After that, there was nothing notable in the news, but they mentioned a raid against a drug cartel, but I swear to you, nobody was taking...OK, maybe some did, but that was not a drug cartel there. I knew most of the gamers!”


    “Yes, I knew them too. I was one of them.”


    I already regretted having said that, but actually, he knew it. He shrugged.


    “I tried all day long to convince her to go to a hospital or to her uncle. She didn''t want to.”


    I watched him, and then I asked the question that was bothering me since I first met him:


    “Tell me, do you know what did your parents think when they named you Gonzo? Is there any explanation for that?” - I tried then to correct myself; I didn''t mean to insult him - “I mean, I have nothing against the name, but was there not a muppets character with the name... I mean, not if some character somewhere...”


    I was starting to sweat trying to explain myself. He sighed and then laughed.


    “My name is Gonzales Gutteres, but when I was a child, I named myself Gonzo, so to answer your question, that was me. Everybody called me Gonzo, so I kept it like that.”


    I laughed and hugged him. I was relieved to find out that I was probably not directly targeted by the raid; he was relieved and happy to have his Helen back. If she decides to stay with him, that''s another story. He hugged me back, throwing his hands over my wings but not saying a word. He did not even recoil when he touched them nor when he felt my naked skin. There was only a moment of awkward silence as he stepped back, opened his mouth to say something then closed it again and shrugged.


    I stood there as I watched him going to his truck door and sighed thinking at my troubles. Fuck, another problem the wings bring is that I cannot dress a shirt or a jacket. However, I cannot run half-naked all the time. I should find some blouses that leave my back free. The problem was, the wings emerge precisely where my bra would be, but I should be able to fit one around them.


    I don''t like wearing bras, but being naked and covered in illusions can go only that far and stops at touching.