Chapter 2: Min Headroom

Content Warnings: Mentions of suicide, emotional abuse, child neglect.

  "We can get through this together." The voice of a man echoes through my mind. Its a calming voice. A little hoarse like my own, but deeper and more rich. A plow pushing through a blizzard. My neck and chest move as I try to drag myself up in bed, but I can't quite get the rest of my anatomy to respond. They told me that I'd lose movement as well as feeling. They were wrong. I lost the movement, bit by bit, but the feeling only changed. First there were thick socks on my feet, oven mitts on my hands, eventually layers of puffy winter clothes covered every part of my body up until my chest. All of which were now surging with electricity and fire. An intense pain I had experienced as far back as I can remember. Cramps, they thought at first, then spasms. Now it was constant and unceasing.

  I don't manage to sit up, but do end up groaning in pain from the tiny semblance of movement. The man's arms are on my shoulders, pulling me forward and then rearranging the piles of blankets behind me to keep me stable. Fire in my abdomen and bile in my chest. I grit my teeth and bear it so that I can look him in the eye. Light blue, so pale that they're almost gray. My own brown eyes come from the other in the room. Her, standing at the doorway, looking out into the distance. She turns to face me for a moment but can't stand it for long, turning back outside.

  "Grab the chair sweetie." The man is doing his best to smile. I try to do the same and end up bearing my fangs in silent suffering. Those light blue eyes are lakes, each with a dam, holding back a flood that he'd never let wash over me. Later they'll burst and unleash a waterfall. Not now. Not in front of me. 
  "...Sweetie?" He finally turns away from me to look for her, but she's already gone. 

  He hadn't seen her packing her bags last night. Hadn't heard her making arrangements for days. Hadn't noticed that she didn't look at either of us anymore. Only through us. Outside.

  "We'll... get through this together."

Art by Graveborns: https://twitter.com/graveborns/status/1500260743522000897/photo/1

...

  I scream in pain as I roll quickly out of bed. On my feet I freeze in a solid standing position, feet and arms both perfectly straight as the pain crashes over me in waves. It's so agonizing that my vision has gone white and I'm frozen in a silent scream. Too pained to breathe, let alone speak or move. Seconds most likely, but it feels like hours before the pain begins to ebb and wane. The shaking of my chest alerts me to the fact that I'm taking short gasps of air, so I begin taking back control of my lungs. 

In three times, out three times. In six times, out six times. The numbers go higher before I start lowering them into deeper breaths. In -1,2,3,4,5,6, out -1,2,3,4,5,6.

I open my IIs. 

  Nothing but darkness as the cynets are currently in sleep mode, where I should be. I blink twice and see the outlines of vision. There aren't any physical lights to turn on in here. The room is empty as it should be, other than the few plants reliant on me for water and nutrients. My breathing becomes slower and deeper as the pain subsides. A blink of my IIs brings the bedroom to life, red and purple lighting illuminating the Duoverse version of my bedroom. Why waste light when we don't see it? My left hand lifts in a perfect bicep curl to appear in my vision. Gently, I open and close the fingers, watching the metal respond to my command. 
I'll get through this. Just like always.

Art by Luoji: https://twitter.com/a_luoji

  7 am, I note, looking at one of the three computer terminals on my desk. Three hours is better than nothing I guess. I step around my bed and press a button on the desk to raise it to my standing height. Reaching forward, I touch the air where the monitor would be, if it existed in reality, and it comes to life. A virtual keyboard and several terminals appear on the workspace. All I need do is glance at the message icon and think about it and the window opens, alerting me to 4 audio messages and 99+ text ones. Don't judge me. I thrive in mess.

  Several down, highlighted in red is the message from Legion HQ. New legatio posted 3 hours ago. Not like I was doing anything anyway. I click into the message and read the briefing. Besides missions that are given directly to a legatus individually, legati are expected to take their own legatio or missions to pass the time. This one, posted in the early hours of the morning, came from the praetor of education. Surprising that no legati have jumped on this. They usually love serving those in power. Tends to come with rewards.

  As I read through the briefing, I come to understand why it was going unanswered. You really expect any self-respecting legatus to go to secondary school? I muse. I'd rather go back to sleep, and that's a nightmare as it is. A small notification flashes to life outside of the terminal, directly in my IIs. 

  I take it you're interested in serving the praetores?

  -Chroma

  I growl out a particularly aggravated sigh in response. I'm pretty sure I have more dangerous mission experience than any other legatus without subordinates. Regardless, I've only been in the position for 2 years and as such I'm very much the rookie of our ranks. I don't see why our praetor, Chroma, goes out of her way to torture me with every boring mission she can find, and has clearly set up alerts for when I view notices, but I don't see any way of getting out of it at this point. 

  I slip into my trousers, looping a belt around them and attaching my NetJack to the front. I follow that up by putting my plants away safely for the day before I finally stop protesting the command in silence. It only takes a mental thought and the touch of two fingers to the side of my neck to accept the mission, at which point Chroma's message alert disappears as though it were never there. In a literal sense it never was. 

  I guess I'm going to secondary school. My parents would be so thrilled...

*************

  Going to school in this case doesn't involve actually leaving the house. Rather, I need only use the credentials I was supplied by The Legion to access the school's intranet Duoverse server. But school begins at 8:15, so I have around an hour to kill first. Breakfast, I confirm, ordering my usual from the local ghost kitchen.

  It takes 15 minutes, for which my IIs apologize for the delay but assure me the food is waiting outside. A glass of purified water blended with anti-inflammatories to start off. I chug the solution down, imediately following up with a gulp of black coffee. The burn from the acid is remedied by the burn of heat, but atleast my medicine is down and I can take my time with the rest. A full cup of black coffee and high quality protein bar. The biological parts of my body don't require many calories and the Cynet parts have already charged while I slept. The first bite brings a smile to my lips. Chocolate and coconut flavour today. I've been told they taste just like the real thing, not that I have any point of reference.

  Sitting at the desk, I open the file which appeared when I accepted and begin a deeper dive into the case. Four students now had ended up comitting suicide in as many months. All four had belonged to the same school, Pegasus Academy for Soaring Youths. Other than that, there didn't seem to be any connection between them. Three girls, one boy. Two different grades. They all had teachers that overlapped but at different frequencies. They all lived in different areas and none shared any extra-curricular activities. In fact none had any extra-curriculars at all. That was the only major similarity between them. 

  Pegasus Academy was an average educational facility. It was a private school as were most in The Republic, but it didn't boast any particular call to fame. They didn't have any physical facilities like some of the sports and performance academies might. There weren't any note worthy alumni or possible patrons in the faculty for students to latch on to. During Legion conscription, alumni had a decent chance of earning a career but not a great one. It was overwhelmingly average, but their tuition fees reflected that and as a business it was booming. 

  Nonetheless, with such a mediocre school, it was doubtful that any criminal group was targeting them, nor was it likely that poor conditions had led to a mental health crisis. Hence, they wanted a member of the Legion to enter the school undercover and keep their eye on the students to try and find what was causing the suicides. Theories included student violence, abuse by staff, a new untracable drug or some form of duoverse hack or virus that is being tested locally. It was due to the latter that division 505 was flagged as possible responders.

  And so, here I go. Taking a final, cold sip of coffee, I touch the side of my neck and confirm signing in to Pegasus Academy. My bedroom fades to white and slowly my surroundings are filled in, starting closest to me with a small american style single desk at the back of a large classroom. The pulse and shimmer of the duoverse brings the full classroom to life inch by inch, revealing that I'm not the first to make it in. It's still 10 minutes before class starts and there are only one or two kids at their seats. At the front of the room a small group of 4 has formed, all excitedly chattering about the notice on the large monitor.

  We have a transfer student joining us today.
  Please welcome Ater Corvus

Okay, now I know she's fucking with me, I grumble to myself. It wasn't unusual for citizens of The Republic to be named after very simple terms in Latin. When the original founders of the megacity founded her, many took on names from Latin that spoke to how they saw themselves and that tradition has lived on for the generations that followed. Fulgur Ovid itself simply means lightning sheep after all. Ater Corvus though... gloomy/dark crow!? 

  I look to the side at a particularly well polished broom cabinet and confirm that yes, I have been provided a different Duotar for the sake of this undercover investigation. What's surprising to me is that it's almost a 1 for 1 recreation of my normal look. The head is bigger, the eyes and mouth larger on the face. The jacket is white where it should be red and doesn't bear the wolf insignia of legati, instead home to a particularly angsty looking crow. Finally my arms, throat and legs all appear completely human. I'm looking at a shounen version of myself that never existed. One that would have taken far more than the hour since I accepted the mission to design.

Art by Kurohiko: https://twitter.com/meikurohiko/status/1500948065309511681/photo/1

  I'm pulled out of my silent rage by several loud creaks and cracks as I realize I've almost splintered the wood of my real-world desk within my grip. Releasing it, I make a silent vow to invoice a new adjustable desk to the Legion and do some of my own detective work to discover who exactly had a teenage Fulgur commissioned and when they were kind enough to pass it on to praetor Chroma. An arrogant smile, hidden in the brush of a dark beard came to mind. Remind me to thank the professor for his own extra-curriculars. If he has any kind of survival instincts, he just felt a cold chill blowing in his way on dark, gloomy wings.

The gaggle of teens at the front of the room has noticed me now and they're making their way to the back of the class. Each giggling and whispering to one-another with words that I don't understand. "Shway," "rips," "dreg" I know at least. I officially feel old. A girl pushes in front of the rest, long white hair swaying rhythmically with each step. The dark red skin and irregularly-sized horns on her head give off the appearance of a Japanese oni but she's combined it with an American cheerleading uniform. She greets me with more energy in her voice than I think I've ever had in my entire body, 

  "hey! Ater, right? Shwaaaay jacket! I'm Melissa and it's so nice to meet you." How I handle this first interaction could make or break the investigation. 

Art by Aya: https://twitter.com/aya_yu0/status/1501152156195307521/photo/1

  "Are you approaching me!?" I stand up by my desk and hold a closed fist infront of my face with a threatening aura. "I've had this arm sealed for 6 years now. Are you sure wish me to unleash it's power!?" My question echoes throughout the room and even those not paying attention to me before are now fixated on my performance. This suits my look atleast... Maybe they'll find it ironic?

  There's a painful silence in which two of the students laugh and walk off, each dying to post about the interaction online.

  "Oooookay, twip. You can take it way down. Just wanted to say hey, ya freak."

  The last of the teenagers walk away, leaving me posed like a shounen artist's reference mannequin. I sigh quietly, letting my arms fall down to my side before collapsing back into my chair. Can't say that I ever understood kids, and the gulf between us has only increased with age.

*************

The first lesson of the day is excruciatingly boring. The kids in this class are supposed to be 15, but they're learning the kind of mathematics I mastered at age 10. I wish I could say that meant that I flew through the quiz without a problem, but it was actually the opposite. Hunting down threats to society doesn't lead to many opportunities to brush up on trigonometric functions or the formulae that they're used in. An hour of the lesson goes by painfully slowly and is capped off with everyone's test scores appearing above their heads for one-another to judge. 

  My 12% brings a few double-takes as well as several laughs from other parts of the room. They might laugh even more if they discovered that all of those marks came from logical steps when given one of the formulae and not from a single correct answer or proper use of knowledge. I can see why this kind of environment would lead to violent actions. Doesn't help that I wouldn't be able to physically hit any of these students who only existed in this space virtually. Perhaps shouta Fulgur might have done better in primary school?

Art by Liko: https://twitter.com/liko_qtpie/status/1511150564276461569

During the break, the full room is abuzz with students forming little cliques and discussing whatever it is that children find interesting. My eyes lock onto a loner sitting two chairs to the side of me, staring out the back window of the classroom. She looks depressed enough, I muse, though a similar expression was likely plastered on my own face during the test. I make my way over to her, having to side-step the corner of my bed in real life which appears in my vision as a red outline when I'm close enough to hit it.

  The girl presented herself in a duotar that was far too youthful for her. The oni from earlier had looked adult and most of the students in the room looked closer to 18 than 15, but this one along with two more in the room, clearly didn't have as much expendable income to customize their looks. That, or their parents preferred them this way. Jet black hair parted in the middle, the traditional school uniform of a black blazer with matching skirt. A white button-up shirt underneath. She even had the same cold grey eyes as me, uncustomized from the basic II model. She was small, maybe 12 years old from her look and I couldn't help but wonder if she had been supposed to grow into the look and had been wearing it for even longer than 3 years. She didn't pay attention to me at all as I approached, focused instead on something else outside the window. I look out at The Republic in the morning, and see nothing of particular interest.

  "What does the city look like to you?" I ask, watching her eyes zip between points on the skyline.

  "Today?" She asks, barely able to hear the question. "There's dozens of castles, each with their own unique look. The sky is filled with monsters and other creatures. I could be hunting them with magic... if I wasn't trapped here."

  I blink a few times, searching through a DV modding site. It doesn't take long to find the image that she described. Mythological Monsters Mod - turn The Republic into a fantasy game. Not only did it make the megacity look like a fantasy world with 3 moons, grassy fields and towers replacing the pavement and buildings, but it also let you hunt monsters and recruit them onto your team to use their powers. This was pretty advanced as far as Duoverse mods went, and not quite legal.

Art by Myriam: https://twitter.com/xMiririn/status/1500470577815068678

  When it came to The Duoverse, each connected user with a subscription plan had the rights to their own Duo avatar or Duotar. Children under the age of 20's rights were owned by their parents up to 16 and The Republic itself from 16 to 20. Hence the strange atmosphere in the classroom with many students being dressed as students, and others with wealthier or more liberal parents looking however they liked. It costed extra to change the appearance of additional items such as their own apartments, vehicles or individual items, not to mention I'mprints. For the parts of the world that belonged to no-one: the streets, sky and airspace, Mirari allowed users to install mods that could change their looks. Some were as simple as different shaders or lighting effects, others were as advanced as filling the sky with flying cars, the world with animals and life or making it appear The Republic was underwater. 

  That doesn't even come close to the weirdest mods I'd heard of, dear listener. Those that turned the buildings into giantesses, meals into tiny living creatures and even a mod that made The Republic into the critically acclaimed MMORPG Endless Escapism Fourteen, with an expanded free trial which you can play through the entirety of An Age Anew and the award winning Northbound expansion up to level 60 for free with no restrictions on playtime. 

  The only rule that this girl's mod broke was overwriting the appearance of buildings which each belonged to people other than the users. It likely wouldn't be expunged any time soon though. Harmless compared to those that would overwrite other users' Duos with filters. The most popular of which was unsurprisingly a nudity mod that always managed to find its way back online no matter how often it was taken down.

  I stared at the world the girl was viewing for a little longer then returned to the unaltered duoverse and locked back on her. A full minute had passed but she was still staring awestruck at the fantasy creatures that only her and a few thousand other citizens of The Republic could see. Looking around the classroom I found the same glazed over expression on a few other students; 

  One's head span on a swivel as he clearly played some other ARG that could work in the classroom, another was sat perfectly still but with their expression occasionally flashing with a smirk or silent giggle - watching some media through their IIs, several others were mouthing wordlessly, not quite used to having conversations with just their thoughts as they adapted to the new technology, now a part of their bodies and lives. There were only a few students who actively interacted with one-another in person. The group who had approached me earlier was chief among them at the front of class. 

  The mathematics teacher who was supposed to be keeping an eye on the class during break was sat perfectly still in the corner, his eyes unblinking. I could only expect that he had disconnected from the school to take a more personal break, leaving the students unattended. I did say this was an average school. You get what you pay for.

  "Did you know any of the kids that committed suicide?" I ask the distracted girl in front of me.

  "Someone killed themselves?" She doesn't even turn to face me, voice filled with less emotion than she had while describing the world she saw beyond the classroom. "That loads..." ... don't ask me. It could have been good or bad with all the feeling she put into it.

  If any of the kids around me heard the mention of suicide, none of them showed any concern. It seemed like everyone at the back of the class was lost in their own little worlds without any intention of interacting with the school outside of lessons. I'm summoning up the willpower to talk to another kid two rows forward when I realize a fatal flaw in that plan. Taking a single step towards him I see the corner of my real-life desk appear far to the side of my tiny school one. Lifting my hand and moving it forward reveals the wall of my bedroom, a thin red cage preventing my escape from the back of the room. Another chorus of laughter erupts and I see the group at the front pointing me out. My guess is that it looked like I was waving in their direction. Perish the thought. Feeling damn blessed that I never had to attend one of these hell holes right now.

  "Hey, Melissa, can you guys come over here? I need to talk for a minute." The response I receive is more laughter followed by,

  "Ewww, did you hear his voice? So old and fake?"

  I probably should have gone with the fuccboi voice from earlier... why doesn't this duotar make me sound like a teen!?

  I return to my own desk and prepare to copy my teacher's methods. Who says that you don't learn anything useful in school? The only reward I receive is a message box taking over most of my view.

Your guardian Chroma has not provided a pardon from class.

Enjoy your studies.

... Several expletives flash through my mind one after another as I begin to see what the next 7 hours of my life entail. Everyone else at the back of class is focused on their own worlds while the students at the front who might actually know some of the kids refuse to approach me. My mission briefing was very clear on the fact that I had to pretend to be a regular teen. I couldn't simply reveal myself as a legatus and make them answer me. What a waste of time...

  My eyes are drawn to the window. No flying cars or monsters. In the daylight from this vantage point, it looks far less impressive than at night from afar. All I can see is one floor of the building across the street which appears to be apartments. Every couple of windows, the style of the building's exterior changes drastically; one block looks like a cottage with paneled windows and plaster stone, the next is more modern, the entire wall itself being glass that allows a full view of the empty living space, after that is a section with no windows -just bulging rock, like a mountain is growing out of the other rooms. 

  I return to my small desk, a perfect copy of every other one in the room. Countless students would have sat here over the years, yet the pale wood encircling me shows no sign of it. No gum stuck on the underside, remnants of DNA carrying a genetic signature into the future. No words of wisdom carved in for the next occupant. Not even a scrawled pair of initials in ink that a teacher couldn't erase. When I was done pretending to be a student here the next occupant would find it just as uniform. No sign that an undercover legatus had ever been held here. Really makes you think about how little autonomy we give to students and just how powerless and insignificant that must-

PIIIIIIIIII~

  A high pitched bell snaps me out of thought. All of the kids in the room find their seats before another bell rings out in confirmation. The classroom around me shakes and distorts like an ancient analogue glitch for just a second and suddenly there are different students in the seats and a new teacher at the corner of the room. I guess break is over.

  The next two classes drag by just as slowly as the first. I'm better at biology, but still don't remember the useless information that these kids are currently filling their heads with. History I manage to score a near perfect grade in as they happen to be learning about The Fall. Finally something with life relevance! As we're released for lunch time, I find another horror waiting for me. Some students have stood up to stretch or begun mingling, but those who have the option, have simply pulled their food out from the side, already prepared for this moment. 

  I stand up and try to move backwards out of my bedroom but the back of the classroom is only two steps behind me. When I try to simply walk through it, an alarm begins blaring in my head, warning that I am in danger and to return within bounds. My IIsight is filled with pure red and the alarm persists but I struggle on. When I try to take another step it's combined with a sharp pain at the back of my head. I jump backwards, slamming into my desk and coming to a rest, one arm holding me steady on it. So, they've given me an electric collar. Certainly an effective way to train this generation into loyal pups. Enough of a pain to calm a wolf, too.

  Looking around the room for help, I see that no-one is paying any attention to my predicament. "Teacher, I need to be excused!" I call out to the woman sitting in the corner. She puts down the sandwich she had taken a single bite out of, sighing in annoyance and walks her way over to me. Imitation food. Someone's fancy.

  "First day jitters, Corvus?" As she stands in front of me I realize she is looking down at me literally as well as figuratively. To her, my eyes must be in my chest. Just how short did they make this Duotar?

  "Not at all, ma'am. I just didn't realize I needed to prepare my lunch beforehand. The program won't let me leave." Unimpressed, she crosses her arms over her stomach, not seeming to see how that's her problem. "I have diabetes," I lie. "I'd rather not pass out by fifth period."

  "You don't have any pre-existing health conditions," she replies coldly, following it up with a click of her tongue. "I'm sending a pardon request to your guardian. If they give the go ahead, then so be it." I only nod in confirmation, hoping that Chroma will stop the games for lunch at least. "I expected better from you. Your marks on the exam were impressive. Don't waste your gifts like the Doomers did." 

  "..." My sight darts down and left at the sudden praise and I pause for a second considering how to respond.

  "...Thank you." I look up to find the teacher half way back to her seat, her back moving away as she puts me out of her mind. Then the classroom fades to white and I'm left staring at the blank monitor in my room in silence. 

  Just like always.

*************

  Free from the prison of school I head to my living room and confirm an order for lunch. There is no afternoon break, so unless I want to spend a second day attending classes, I need to be back before lunch ends. 

  I live a simple single life. My entire living room consists of a single comfy sofa, a table to rest things on and a treadmill. The living room is easily three times the size of my bedroom though, and this time I know where I'll spawn in the classroom. Dragging my sofa and table into the corner, I visualize desks in my living room and assure myself I'll be able to get to the front row of the class, but not the entirety of the room. The treadmill is off to the side enough that I won't need to worry about it, unless I intend to step on a teacher at some point. Good enough. Let's see them ignore me when I'm 5 feet from them.

  My food arrives as I finish the set-up and I decide to finish it quickly before going back in. It's doubtful that another protein bar is going to impress anyone. Even the teacher paid extra for imitation food shape. Chicken Caesar. Not half bad.

  Booting back into the classroom leaves me feeling drained instantly. The gentle hum of light fixtures that don't exist. The wafting scent of food, all taking the form of bars or shakes, yet with varied flavours. The rhythmic clicking of a detached teachers' nails on her desk as she reads a magazine. I can't help but wonder why they bothered to program in so much detail, yet keep it all so bland.

  My arrival at the back of the class catches some attention, likely more the fact that I actually got to leave in the first place than my return. Stepping between virtual desks, I make my way to the third row and interrupt a pair of students in the middle of a conversation about some boybands.

  "-the demon is just a tryhard. I'm all about the cyborg!" I'm pretty sure is what she said when I cut in.

  "Hey, Ful-Ater. I'm new... just wanted to say hey."

  "Fellater? You mean like-"

  "Kevin!" The girl hits the boy on the shoulder and both chuckle for a moment. A snapping sound coming from another student's fingers draws their attention forward, their laughter dying instantly. I follow their eyesight expecting the teacher on her way to tell them off, but instead see a boy, one of Mellisa's group from the morning, staring daggers at them. "A- as I was saying. The cyborg isn't begging for attention. He's just doing his own thing. Everybody is just assuming what he's up to..." she continues as I tune out the sound.

  I glare back at the teenager in the front of class for a moment longer and realize that his entire group are now grinning little shit-eating smiles at me.

  "Oi, Kevin," I say, turning back to the pair. His eyes twitch a little but he does his best to continue the conversation he was having with the girl about boybands. "Hey," I try to place my hand on his shoulder and see the fleshy appendage slip right through, and another warning flash up in my IIsight about returning to class bounds. Kevin in turn flinches a little but continues his conversation in a higher pitch.

  Okay... that's a pretty impressive display of control, I have to admit as I face the boy in the front of class. He's already turned back to his little group and they're whispering to one-another and laughing, obviously about this little game.

  Speaking of games, he looks like a video game character. Dark blue leather and white fur adorn his bulky frame. As he moves, his hands leave a slight trail of blue smoke behind them. I do a visual search and confirm that I'm looking at Park Ferrum. Kid's a professional Gladius player. One of the best in The Republic with tons of sponsorships and subscribers. His Duotar looks just like it does in the game, even including the visual effects. The effect alone would be worth a small fortune, though likely something he received for free from the game company. Regardless, my investigation just became a lot easier.

  As I have the kid's address pulled up on my IIs, I'm accutely aware of the silence that has fallen and blink to clear my vision. Everyone in the room, aside from the teacher and one or two students who are still lost in their own worlds is starting at Kevin. 

  In tandem, they all raise a single finger pointed right at his face. He spins from side to side in confusion and finally turns to the girl he was just talking to with tears in his eyes. As if on cue, they all burst into hysterical laughter. I can hardly believe my senses as I look from one student to another. Even those who had been doing their own thing had joined in with perfect timing on the ritualistic mockery. The teacher in the corner is simply shaking her head as if she's seen this all before. I guess laughter isn't against the rules?

  Kevin himself had started trying to grab his friend, first by the hand and then at the shoulders, hands slipping straight through her form. "Apricus, come on! What the fuck? Really, ME!?" She doesn't even flinch, letting his form slip through hers without any acknowledgement. He pleads with her for several moments before looking down at her desk, eyes beginning to water. 

  As suddenly as it began the laughter in the room dies. The silence lasts roughly 2 seconds while the fingers stay pointed directly at Kevin. I reach out to another kid at my side, letting my fingers slip through their eyes but getting no reaction. They can't see anything... Finally the hands fall down all at the exact same time and students return to what they were doing before. The only change is the girl, Apricus I assume, who stands and moves to another group of 3 students, joining in with their conversation. A neural net virus? I wonder silently. It was like they were all possessed.

Ferrum and a group of kids at the front are laughing again and gesturing at Kevin whose face has gone blank. Lunch will be ending any minute now. Kevin might be pissed enough to tell me what that just was. I could go directly to the source though. Ferrum and those at the front are the only ones taking pleasure from the event. Stands to reason that they know what's going on.

  Kevin is staring straight down at his desk and convulsing in silent sobs. I almost reach out to rest my hand on his shoulder but catch myself, remembering how that went last time. "Hey, are you good?" I ask, crouching down into a squat so I'm close to his eye-level. With how short this duotar is I may even be below him in his eyes. Kevin sobs a little, turns to face me and then simply looks away. 

  "Piss off. ...It's your fault." He gets out between breaths. 

  "The laughing thing? Why was that my fault?"

  "The LAUGHING thing," he echoes back at me with venom in his voice. "That's just how it STARTS!"

  "...Well, what does it become? Maybe I can help?"

  "Just piss off!" He tries to push me away, ignoring the alarms in his head about school boundaries and even throws a useless punch my way. "I hope you're next, you freak!"

  Off to the side I hear Ferrum giggle again in pleasure. Fuck this, I'm done with school. Two fingers press against my neck confirming my message had been sent to Park Ferrum. I see his eyes widen as he reads its contents that only he can see. "Maple Estates, 84th floor, appartment 16. I'm coming to you right after school, dreg." 

PIIIIIIIIII~

  The same high pitched note as before rings out in the room and a large warning appears in my vision.

Return to your seat within 10 seconds or you will receive detention.

  I hurry back to my sofa, stepping carefully around the table I positioned in front of it. The timer has counted down to 3 as I take my seat and the warning disappears. For a moment I can see Ferrum staring at me in shock and then my vision glitches and the class has reorganized around me. I notice Melissa, the oni girl from the morning is at the front of this class as well, but don't recognize any of the other faces.

*************

  The second half of the day drags by just as slowly as the first. I had to stick around to act like a regular student but I'm already prepared to hunt down my next clue from Park Ferrum in person. The final bell rings out and causes the classroom to slowly dissolve from far to close this time, my own living room reappearing in its place.

  I stand, stretch a little and then turn on a mirror in my IIs to show me what I look like right now. No, I'm not becoming vain or anything like that, dear listener. After today, I just wouldn't put it past praetor Chroma to have left me in the shounen duotar until the investigation was complete. I still can't believe she forced me to attend a full day of secondary school for her amusement. She may even have the same recording as Park Ferrum of my first impression on the kids. With that thought haunting me, I leave my house and grab my car from underground parking, looking forward to my own extra-curricular.

The Maple Estates building isn't much different from the apartment complex across from the school. From the outside it's a chimera of different shapes and styles, all smashed together to form one huge tower. I pull my car into visitor parking, make my way to one of the elevators and press the button for the 84th floor. "Welcome to Maple Estates. We hope you enjoy your visit," echoes through the tiny box. I know someone who won't appreciate it. My ride up is serenaded by calming music that I gently nod my head to. Once I'm past the 50s and climbing I tap two fingers to the side of my neck and allow myself to go into 'predator mode.'

Not a word, dear listener! I didn't name it! Predator mode simply changes my duotar to a pure black humanoid figure with a red outline and distorts my voice to protect my identity. There are also options to make your movements silent and disable yourself appearing at all in the Duoverse, but those are only authorized in rare scenarios.

Art by Trashie: https://twitter.com/trashie_can/status/1500168864818028552/photo/1

  The inside of Maple Apartments looks surprisingly simple. Cream coloured walls with a gold trim, red carpets with white floral patterns. The only sign that this was a shared occupation zone were the doors, each of which was of a different style, some more wild than others. Number 16 was relatively plain. Dark oak wood with a frosted glass panel in the middle. The entire thing is likely some sort of reinforced metal in reality since they let just anyone enter the corridors, but I'm not bothered enough to confirm it. Instead I simple knock the edge of the door 3 times, certain that I won't have to huff or puff to bring it down.

  "Yes, who is it?" A man's voice, much deeper than the boy I was here to see responded through an intercom.

  "Legatus of Legion 505. I'm here to talk to your son, Ferrum." The intercom goes dead for a moment and then the click of a magnetic lock invites me in. I push open the door to reveal a Victorian style hallway with dark hardwood floors, a staircase leading up on my left and two doors on the wall on my right. The first is open and leads me to a large living room with bay windows illuminating the open floor plan.

Art by Gran: https://twitter.com/granlin0116/status/1512211853862064130

  A glass table sits in the middle of the room and surrounding it in a half hexagon, are a large corner sofa and two reclining chairs. Against one wall is a mantelpiece with a roaring fire. On and around the mantel are trophies, photos and keepsakes from a happy family with a TV covering every other part of the wall. I step around the table to have a look at the photos and confirm a recent one of Park Ferrum. In older family photos it's impossible to tell which of the children he is, each of the two looking almost identical other than in size. In one picture, the pair have their arms wrapped around each others' shoulders as their parents hug each other, smiling at their children from the distance. It looks like it was taken in an water park, each of the family in swim suits with a fake blue sky above their heads. Their duotars in childhood were a mix of the two parents' features. Simple and classic. The whole house was a throwback to a long gone era. 

  "Legatus? May I ask what this is about?" The father of the house, Park Ji-Hoon, has opened the double doors on the other wall of the room and revealed a dining room he seems to have been sitting at with his son. They were expecting guests. Kid went crying to his dad when it got too real.

  "Ferrum might have been mixed up in something dangerous at school," I say, hearing the distorted voice echo around the room. Ferrum glances at his dad, shaking a little in response.

  "He's told me already." I tilt my head to the side slightly at the fathers' nonchalance. "This Corvid kid. Did you arrest him yet?" Ferrum's father moves back into the dining room, placing a hand on his son's shoulder. The pair look at each other for a moment of reassurance then back to me, the faceless figure stepping into their dining room. He told him the end of the story at least. Shame he left out his part in it. It's odd seeing Park Ji-Hoon besides his son. His duotar presents him as a simple businessman. Slicked back black hair, a lithe frame, even the wrinkles and laughter lines that so few people wear proudly. Clothed in a white shirt, black tie hanging slightly loose at his neck and with perfectly pressed slacks, the pair looked like they come from different worlds.

  "Corvus, and no actually." I pull up a chair and take a seat across from the pair. Ji-Hoon drags a chair from another corner to seat himself right next to his son. "That kid isn't dangerous, but there's something going around the school that is." Father and son look at each other again then turn to me, eyes narrowed in confusion. Even with such different Duotars, the movements and facial expressions bear resemblance. "Have you heard about the suicides at Pegasus Academy?" I ask simply. Father scrunches up his face in confusion while Son tenses up, both shaking their heads in denial. Ferrum wasn't a very good liar.

  "Four kids committed suicide there just recently. I'll cut to the close, Ferrum why does every kid in the school shun and bully one kid at the same time? Is it some sort of neural network virus? Visual manipulation of the duoverse? Something new?" The further I go the more upset Park Ji-Hoon becomes and finally he slams the table with his hand.

  "My boy would never get mixed up in something so heinous!" He protests, staring me down from the other end of the table. "Why don't you talk to that Corvo kid!? He threatened Ferrum just today! Tell him Ferrum!" Ferrum is shaking his left leg under the table and looking off into the distance behind me, too afraid to stare into the dark figure who knows more than he expected.

  "I don't know what you mean, sir," he finally sputters out. "If there is a bully, it's definitely that new kid. He doxxed me and threatened my family and friends."

  I sigh in aggravation, half wishing I could reveal my appearance but if this is a dead-end then the investigation would be ruined. Instead I spend the next two minutes cycling through my own memory bank and producing a video clip of the classroom while Park Ji-Hoon's requests for me to leave become less polite. When I'm done producing the video clips, the space around the three of us transforms into the classroom at lunch time. "Everything is recorded in classrooms Park Ferrum. For your safety of course."

  The clip of students laughing at Kevin plays. Once that part is over I pause it and make my way over to the recorded copy of Ferrum and his friends enjoying the aftermath. "It looks like 'your boy' is the ringleader for whatever is going on in the classroom." I say, one arm pointing out their glee.

  Father looks to son again, expression very different this time. His hand is tightened into a fist on the dining room table, knuckles strained white to the bursting point.

  "Dad... it isn't what it looks like," Ferrum pleads, less afraid of me than he is his father. "It's nothing dangerous, just a visual mod we made."

  Father relaxes, the tension flooding out of his body in an instant. Son, is still searching his face for some sign of his next move.

  "Do what you will, legatus. He just confessed."

  "Dad, no!" Ferrum grabs his fathers' sleeve with both hands, shaking it as he screams "don't block me! I'm your son! It's not what you think! I'm sorry!" Ferrum collapses off the chair, head resting on his father's lap. His pleas are literally falling on deaf ears.

  "You blocked him?" I ask for confirmation.

  "Best way to punish a child, I've found," he responds nonchalantly as his son continues tapping his leg and trying to speak to him. "A few weeks blocked by the family makes them fall in line every time." In the father's eyes his son no longer exists. He can feel his tears wetting his slacks and hands pulling at him for attention, but all he sees is a whited out figure with no sound coming out of it. My own eyesight shows that Park Ferrum has stopped pleading, now simply breaking down into a sobbing mess as his father tears away his leg and marches out of the dining room, saying only "I'll see you out when your business is done," to me.

  I sit in silence for a few minutes, expecting the sobbing to fall silent but after five even I'm feeling uncomfortable.

Art by Eik: https://twitter.com/eikyrona

  "Kid, it's gonna be fine. If it's really only a visual mod then you'll barely get a slap on the wrist." Park Ferrum turns to me, looking directly into my formless face as if he just remembered I was here.

  "It's just a mod..." he repeats, continuing to cry immediately after. "Everyone installs it. We all do. It only takes over your IIs -sob- for a minute a time." I feel like this will take another hour at this rate so I cut in while Ferrum catches his breath.

  "Can you just send the file to me?" His head nods frantically like a bobble-head doll and a file share request comes in.

  "Please tell him, sir. My dad. It's not what he thinks. It's no big deal." I do my best to ignore Ferrum, browsing through the code carefully. I'm not the best at coding, but even I could have come up with the simple commands and 3D images within the file. Just like Ferrum said, it was a simple visual mod. It took over the view of a user's IIs and replaced the entire view with blank white space and text commands in a HUD. Options that the kids had programmed in included having the users all point and laugh with a timer, telling them to spam a user with fixed messages, comment things on their socials, etc. Put simply it let the whole school act as a targeted harassment group, but since all the messages were coming from individuals who otherwise behaved independently, the abuse system didn't flag it. It was so basic The Legion hadn't caught it at all.

  "Four people died," I say calmly. "You really think that's no big deal?"

  "I didn't kill anyone!" Ferrum says, eyes wide as he stares at me. "Just tell dad, please. I just can't be blocked." I stare cautiously at Park Ferrum, the hulking teenager down on his knees in pennance. Blinking twice, the room around me fades and I'm left in a gloomy, hazy imitation of the last. 

  The table and chairs are all still here as well as the walls and doors, but everything is grey plastic, barely visible between the lack of light or air filtration. Park Ferrum is half the size of his duotar, dark hair and matching eyes, a scrawny child wearing a white vest and shorts that hang off of him. His eyes are singed red from crying and the spots in his arms and face that the tears have fallen reveal clear, tanned skin, otherwise coated in the filth that circulates in the air.

  "Is being blocked by your dad so bad?" I ask, genuinely curious.

  "It isn't just my dad," he pleads. His real voice is higher pitched, hoarse whether from crying or because he still hasn't fully healed from having his filtration device adjusted. Children with such implants had to have them worked on every few months as they grew. "With the parental settings he can block me for everyone other than teachers and The Legion."

  Well, damn. That's it's own personal form of hell. If no-one could see or hear him, he was essentially locked away from the world. He wouldn't be able to stream either since Gladius requires communication between players. It basically is prison but while watching the real world go by all around you. I seem to remember The Republic testing such a punishment as a way of preventing criminals from reoffending. A quick search in my IIs while Ferrum continues to whine brings me up the study. It was abandoned as a form of punishment after only two years. While short term uses helped deter certain criminals from reoffending it led to others becoming more antisocial and aggressive. In long-term uses it always led to violence whether against others or self-inflicted. 

  Now they market it as a handy way to punish your own children. Billy and Suzie won't be able to do anything bad if the whole world sees them as a white soundless void, only getting in the way.

  "This actually... seems like the perfect punishment for you." Ferrum instantly falls silent, olive skin paling as his wide eyes tremor. "This duomod you made, it acts in a similar way to parental settings. Was that why you made it? To inflict the same kind of punishment on others that you receive at home?"

  Park Ferrum is staring right at me, wide eyes slowly narrowing as the final drops of water spill out of them. It's a little embarrassing seeing his tiny body tense up as he stands and flexes, so I do him the courtesy of blinking back into the duoverse. Sure enough, the bulky video game character standing in front of me looks much more intimidating. His face is narrowed into blades, all of which are sharpened and ready to strike. 

  "I didn't do anything wrong. If they couldn't handle a little teasing then they couldn't survive in this world. Do you know how much hate I receive every day as a Gladius player!? Messages, memes, threats. They criticize my every move for no reason other than it being fun. None of that is anything compared to being blocked. Those kids have no idea what real pain is!" I let the kid finish his monologue before I nod in confirmation and stand, ready to take my leave.

  "Well, don't worry. Your punishment won't be the parental blocking, Ferrum." 

  "-huh?" He relaxes a little, the anger on his face giving way to confusion.

  "That's just your dad's punishment. Actively abusing other children in your class, guiding other kids to take part in targeted harassment, lying directly to a legatus. By the time you finish community service you'll be due for conscription. I'm sure your parents will have unblocked you 4 years from now." I touch two fingers to the side of my neck and the report has been filed with The Legion. Ferrum's eyes unfocus as they find the message that has just taken over part of his IIsight. 

  The arbiters waste no time in deliberation, taking a Legatus' report and deciding the sentence instantly.

Park Ferrum,

report to Legion HQ within 1 hour to begin your community service. If you are not present at the allotted time your sentence will be extended. If you attempt to flee your punishment will become more severe.

Have a lovely day.

  "Don't worry kid. By the time The Legion is done with you, you'll be a man. All of this will feel like child's play, I promise." I make sure to close the double doors leading to the dining room on my way out. I can't stand the sobbing coming out of the kid who believes he 'did nothing wrong.' 

Art by Ryu.ko.san: https://twitter.com/Ryu_Koru

Art by Ineecho: https://twitter.com/ineechoo/status/1500862794647887876

  As I'm heading through the living room, the picture on the mantle catches my eye once more. Something is different from the last time I saw it. The Park family is still all joy. The literal picture of domestic bliss. Now however there's only one child in the pictures. The larger child, with his arm held out to the side, wrapped around a brother who no longer exists in the household. Not even a white human-shaped void is left where Park Ferrum once beamed with child-like glee into the camera. 

  Humans don't like seeing things that remind them of bad memories. If it doesn't spark joy, out it goes. I blink my eyes and return to dismal reality. In it there is nothing around the mantle at all. No TV or trophies, let alone family photos. The whole room is a dark box with those large bay windows blocked by metal shutters to keep the radiation out. All of the furniture in the room is grey, devoid of any colours, all made of plastic and felt. When the Parks decide to change it up, they'll simply return the set to the store who will sell it on, customized however the next family would like it to appear. When they're done living here they'll take the few physical items they have and leave it for the next occupant. If they've left any sign of their time here, it will only end up as a repair fee on their final rent payment.

Art by Sai: https://twitter.com/needsugamomma

  "Legatus, are you on your way out?" I return once more to the duoverse before turning to face Park Ji-Hoon at the doorway.

  "Yes, sorry," I reply hastilly. "Your house is so lovely. I was a little lost in all the furnishings." He smiles at that, the same expression of smug pride I'd seen on Park Ferrum at the school.

  "Costs a fortune, but we have a good DV plan. I could get you our agents number if you're interested?"

  "Oh, no. I'm sure my salary wouldn't be nearly enough. It's just a pleasure to see someone with a taste for the classics." Ji-Hoon chuckles at that, taking a seat in one of the recliners.

  "I hope you get some form of commission on all those fines you wol-legati administer." He presses a button on the side of the chair and leans back into a half laying position, the TV flashing to life as he searches for classical music with his IIs.

  "Sorry about that. I don't sentence the punishment I only-"

  "-File the reports. I know. The Arbiters are a wise and fair jury. Ferrum's savings covered most of it. That boy was such a good Gladius player." Park Ji-Hoon sounds sad as he talks about his son in the past tense, shaking his head slightly as he does. Perhaps just disappointed. Do I apologize for his loss? I can still hear the brat sobbing in the dining room. I'm trying to find some way to say goodbye without coming across as rude when he continues, "it's alright. We'll get through this together. That's what family is for."

  "...Mmmn." I finally take my leave. 

  Less than half an hour away from home and my Legatio is complete before sundown. This calls for gin -and lots of it!

Art by Mori: https://twitter.com/moriartsu/status/1500911071263338496/photo/1