_(This is a short story because I need to get the feel for the world, plot, and characters. This is also 5 years into the future from my previous Disordered post.)_

I was sixteen when my only hope in the world died. I was sixteen when I had to protect the thing that had taken him away.

The thing was right there. The thing that had killed a peice of my heart, it was _right_ **_there_**. But I couldn’t do anything—nothing at all. We needed it alive for the livelihood of all Disordered, and I just needed to stop being selfish. That’s all I had to do.

_Why is it still here when he isn’t? The world should be fixed by now—that’s what should be happening. Not this._

The thing had taken a liking to me and followed me everywhere much to my dissatisfaction. Its eyes were no color, a clear mirror just reflecting. Its skin was gray; its head was bald, wires surfacing on the sleek surface before diving back into his cranium. It had wires everywhere actually, and its skin—outershelling—was soft enough to be like a human, but had enough that no threat could get through.

“Could you stop feeding it, Killian?” I snapped to my crew member who was cooing to the thing, the Perfect, like a baby as it opened its mouth to eat our saved rations.

Killian gave me a forwn, their hand stopping midair. “And let it starve? I’m afraid Katrina will kill me it that happens.”

The Perfect turned its head and looked at me. Instantly, I felt my hands clench. “I am very hungry, James Dire. I would like to eat.”

“I don’t care what you want!” I hissed. Killian flinched back, as any normal person would do, but The Perfect didn’t react. Didn’t even blink.

_I can’t deal with this anymore._

I stood up and left the tent, ignoring the stares from both human and creature.

“Hey—HEY! James, where are you going!” I heard Killian shout. There was a shuffling as I paused, but then they yelped. I turned to see The Perfect holding onto their arm tightly. “What in the—“ Killian shook their head and turned back to me, eyes pleading. “Please, if you’re going to go and be a bitch, at least tell me where you’re going.”

I continued walking. “Into the woods.”

“Well, yes, but can you—jeez Purr, back off!”

I paused once more at that. “_What_ did you just call it?”

Killian stiffened at my tone. The Perfect stilled as well, eyes narrowing. Killian reaches out with a hand. “Hey. We can talk about it when Katrina and the others get back….James?”

**_I can’t take this anymore._**

“Don’t you see what it’s doing!” All my anger rushed out at that moment. “It’s making you trust it! Making think of it as your own! That’s probably what it did to Karl before it…before….” My throat started to clog up and my knees shook.

Both of us—the humans—jumped when a voice behind us asked. “And what is going on here?”

It seemed that they were back. It seemed that life had to go on.