Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“...and so it's, um, still a lot to think about, you know? Since it just happened uh…” Raz paused, flicking his fingers up and down, counting out the digits. “...yesterday? Yesterday.”

“Understandable,” Morris replied.

Raz shifted in his seat. “On second thought, maybe we should have waited a week or something for this to settle before—”

Morris shuffled his notes, the fwip of paper against paper drowning out Raz. "So, now that you're an official Junior Psychonaut—"

"Hey, you are, t—"

Morris cleared his throat and gave Raz a glance. "Now that you're an official Junior Psychonaut, what are your plans?"

"Well, obviously I'm gonna...." Raz blinked and leaned away from the mic on the back legs of his chair.

Morris leaned forward on his wheelchair and waved Raz forward with one hand. "Yes?"

"Now that we—er, now that I'm officially a Psychonaut... I'm not sure what to do. I haven't exactly been given any missions yet, other than to familiarize myself with the Motherlobe, the quarry, and..." He gestured with raised palms, even though the less than half-a-dozen people listening to the station couldn't see them. "...other stuff. ...Am I really going to be going on missions?"

"You say that like you've never been on one!" Morris said, raising a single eyebrow.

"Well, yeah, but this is for real. Really real. Really official. Not as an intern! And without, y'know, messing with—"

Dude, Morris rang out inside Raz’s head. Raz darted his eyes to the side; Morris stared back with a grimace, while waving a flat palm beside his throat.

"—um, stuff," Raz finished. “You don't want to mess up as an official Psychonaut! Now that you've got an official job and everything... wow. You know, this sounds a lot more stressful when I put it that way—”

"AND that's all the time we have for today!” Morris called into the mic while pulling it away from Raz. Raz jumped in his chair at the volume of Morris’ voice, nearly tipping over. “Thanks for listening to K-L.O.B.”

Morris set the mic back down on the table and tweaked a few knobs on the radio. Then, he turned to look at Raz, staring at him with a slightly squinted stare.

"Wow," Queepie commented from the corner. "You're really bad at this."

"My thoughts exactly," Morris said, leaning back in his chair. "Our listeners probably tuned out halfway through."

"Hey, it's just been a lot to think about!" Raz tossed up his hands over his head. "This only happened, what, yesterday?"

"Two days ago."

“Two days?” Raz blinked and looked at his fingers again. I’m not that bad at math, am I?

"Mom says you slept eighteen hours," Queepie added.

"Oh." Raz scratched the back of his head. "I guess that's why I feel so... off."

"Really though, you haven't thought about going on missions?"

"I mean, growing up, yeah."

"...Aren't you like, ten?"

"Yeah, but... I read every True Psychic Tales issue I could get my hands on, and imagined myself going on missions like that... But I'm not so sure those tales are as 'true' as they say anymore." He rested his chin against his hand, then gave a start. "What am I saying?! I know they're not! The issue about Maligula was a bunch of baloney!" Raz found himself pacing around the little treehouse. "They painted Lucy as some kind of... of irredeemable monster, and everyone else as these heroes who never did anything wrong... And they said Helmut was dead!" He paused, rubbing a finger against his chin and glancing aside. "And they misspelled his name with two 't's, come to think of it. Should've been my first clue that something wasn't right."

Turning away from his brother and his fellow intern—er, junior agent—Raz looked through the doorway and out into the quarry, its waters a blinding orange as the sun set over them. "But after spending time with these people, and... going on real missions myself... I know these things aren’t always as heroic and fun and cool as they sounded."

Memories of bad mental connections in Hollis's mind, Sasha and Milla dazed with psilirium sickness, and the office construct being overtaken by mountains of teeth and gums and tongues filled his mind.

"They're... messy."

Morris quirked one of his eyebrows. "Man, I should have left the mic on." He shook his head. "Really though, what are you trying to say?"

Finally, Raz turned back. "I'm saying I... don't know what I'll be doing now that I'm a Psychonaut. I have no idea what to expect."

Queepie and Morris exchanged glances. "Well... that's the point, isn't it?" Morris asked with a shrug. "We're secret agents. Every mission's gonna be different."

"Yeah... I guess so."

"Well, one thing that's predictable... is the cafeteria's schedule!" Without warning, Morris zoomed past Raz and out the doorway. "I'm getting dinner. Hold down the fort for me, will you Queepie?"

"Got it!" Queepie pushed his seat over to the radio, which began to blast “Welcome to My Mind” for the eightieth time that day.

Giving the kid a thumbs-up, Morris began hopping his chair down the path out of the treehouse. "You coming, Raz?"

"Oh, yeah! I'll... be right there!" Raz called back, and wrapped his arms around himself. "Maybe, anyway."

"You're not going?" Queepie asked as he bounced around in his seat.

"I dunno. I'm still... thinking about stuff." He turned back to his younger brother. "Do you really think I'll be going on a real mission soon?"

Without stopping his dance, Queepie only shrugged. "How should I know? I dunno anything about your weird job."

"Guess not." Sighing, Raz made his way out of the treehouse. "See you around."

"If you're gonna get food, could you get me a soda?"

"Nah, I think you're good without the sugar."

Leaping off the platform, Raz grabbed a thought bubble and gently floated down to the ground. After a few more acrobatic-slash-psychic stunts, he arrived at the entrance to the Motherlobe. Many agents were casting long shadows across the stone floor as they entered and exited the building, either heading home for the day or arriving for an evening shift. Everything felt at ease; no one gave him a second glance, and he only heard the barest mentions of the events of two days ago other than comments on the updated mural and remarks about the "wild storm." He passed the receptionist, who earlier that day had indicated she hadn't realized anything out of the ordinary had happened.

Was this just... normal?

A ThinkerPrint scan and quick levitation-lift ride later, Raz found himself in the Atrium, still as full of people as it had been earlier, though many of them were heading to the Noodle Bowl. They were just fellow agents going about their day, like he would be, too, now. But in spite of all his exploration, everything was still so... new to him. Not the parts like the Atrium and Nerve Center and other wings—he still felt a thrill run through him as he remembered that he was really here—but there were still parts he hadn’t seen, not labeled on the tourist map he’d been given. On top of that, his mind still reeled at the thought that he would be expected to be here every day. And all these people... even though he could pick out the names of agents and workers around him via natural mind-reading, he didn't really know them.

He didn't know what he was doing, either.

Change like this shouldn’t have felt so weird, should it? He was a circus performer—he’d been traveling his whole life, seeing new places, new people… but it was always the same shows. Occasionally there were new acts, and occasionally they’d partner with different circuses, but what was expected of him was a constant.

Now it was the complete opposite—he would be in the same place, but his missions might be wildly different each time. But this was what he’d wanted, wasn’t it?

So… why was the thought of it making his stomach tie itself in knots?

The doors to Astral Lanes swished open, and a couple stumbled out, leaning against each other as they talked and laughed. Raz watched them go, feeling a tug within him—he was an agent too, just like them. Why couldn't he be that happy? (Well... other than the fact that he wasn't going to be consuming alcohol for another ten years or so at least.) Maybe he should talk to...

A moment later he found himself walking through the long hallway into the bowling alley, hurrying around the shoe rental. "Sash—uh, Agent Nein—"

He skidded to a halt to stop himself from bumping into another agent, who laughed, adjusting his tie. "Wow! I didn't know I looked that tall."

"Ugh, sorry." Raz looked around the bar area, his heart sinking when he saw no sign of Sasha or Milla. "Hey, um, have you seen Agents Nein and Vodello, by any chance?" Remembering something they'd said earlier, his heart raced. "They haven't left for camp yet, have they?!"

The man's brow furrowed. "Uh... man, I dunno, kid. They're probably too busy to sign autographs though—"

"They got called up Truman's office," the bartender called from across the room. "Sounded like something came up."

"Oh no...!" Raz's heart was pounding in his throat as he bolted out of the bowling alley and to the nearest Otto B.O.N., only to growl in frustration when it refused to open. "What now?"

"Apparently there was an issue with the hatches," a nearby janitor said, mopping the floor by Raz's feet and prompting him to move away. "They're shut down for now."

Groaning, Raz hopped onto his levitation ball, barreling toward the Nerve Center to take the long way to Truman's office. His mind raced during a ThinkerPrint scan that felt like it took an age. Had Gristol escaped? Had something gone wrong with the Astralathe? Had something happened to Ford or Nona or—?!

The doors slid open, and Raz barreled through. He had to carefully swerve around workers in the huge room, at one point bouncing over the head of one who nearly walked into him. Several people were abuzz about something, but he didn't have time to stop and listen, instead heading straight up to Truman's office.

Maybe Truman wasn't okay after all, maybe something had happened to him! Was Lili—what the heck was so loud?

Raz stopped just before the stepping stones that led up to the office. Now that he'd been broken out of his thoughts, he could hear what sounded pretty close to a wild animal snarling just around the corner, the voices of Sasha and Truman and a few others barely audible above it.

"Psychic wolverines!" Raz cried. "I knew it!"

After a few hops across the rocks (ignoring the now-friendly watery hand that waved as he passed), Raz dismissed his lev ball and struck a psychic pose atop the stairs. "Don't worry Truman, I—"

Raz faltered.

Standing before him was Sasha, Milla, Oleander, Truman, and Otto, who all stared at him in surprise. And hovering in the midst of them was a figure he was not expecting to see again anytime soon.

Doctor Loboto, held in place by a psychic fist, swiveled his mechanical eyes down to stare at him. "Say, you look familiar."

"Uh."

"Agent Aquato," Sasha said, and Raz stood taller, unable to stop himself from smiling. "Your presence is... unexpected, but at least you've gotten our captive to quiet down."

His smile fell. "Uh, sorry, I just wanted to catch you before..."

"We're a bit preoccupied at the moment, darling," Milla said.

"Yes!" Otto raised his hand and, with it, the psychic fist holding the doctor. "I found this fellow wandering lost through my Otto B.O.N. system. Seems he escaped from the lab when no one was looking."

Raz stiffened, shuffling his feet and looking away. "Oh. Uh... weird how that happened."

"I wouldn't be lost if you told me how to leave!" Loboto grunted, struggling in the fist. "I have to get back to camp!"

"What, did you leave your car keys there?" Oleander remarked with a smirk.

"No, I left the keys to the spare brain tank," Loboto shot back.

Oleander's eyes widened as he broke into a grin. "There's still a spare—?!" Sensing the stares around the room, he took a step back, hands on his hips. "I mean, uh... I'll... have to dismantle that when I get back."

"That man is absolutely not leaving this place!" Truman cried, swiping his hand as he stepped toward Loboto. "He was an accomplice to the man who stole my brain!"

"Yes, it took a while to pry Nick Johnsmith's name out of him," Sasha remarked, and Loboto froze.

"Wait, hold on..." Raz held up a hand. "We got the information we needed from him, right?"

"Maybe so, but Truman is right." Sasha turned his gaze to Loboto, who had gone a shade paler and was muttering faintly to himself. "Even though Gristol Malik has been detained, Loboto could still be a danger to others. We cannot let him leave."

"I have to!" Loboto wailed, kicking out his feet. "My kid's still at camp!"

Sasha, Milla, and Oleander exchanged bewildered glances (or Raz figured Sasha must have looked bewildered behind his goggles), and Raz joined them, looking from Loboto to the counselors a few times. He couldn't help but feel relieved that they were as lost as he was. "So uh, did he really have a...?"

"If he had a kid," Oleander began, eyeing the doctor, "he didn't mention it to me when we were planning—" He faltered. "Uh, when, um, we infiltrated his mind."

"What?" Loboto's eyes darted toward Oleander, his brows furrowed.

"Caligosto," Milla said gently, "none of the children that attended camp last week share the same last name as you. Unless your spouse has a different last name—"

"Spouse?" Loboto's optics pulled back. "I don't have one!"

"Then why would your child—"

"I never said he was one of those kids! Unless you started accepting lungfish at your weird psychic—"

"Linda?!" Raz blurted out. Immediately he started cracking up, bending over as he gripped his sides. "Your kid is Linda?!"

"Who's Linda?!" Loboto snarled.

"The lungfish you experimented on?" Raz raised his head, still giggling, only to realize everyone was staring at him. Quickly he straightened, his giggle turning into a nervous chuckle. "She... uh... told me that was her name."

"Huh." Oleander rubbed a knuckle against his chin. "Didn't know it had a name."

"She, he, Linda, Larry, whatever, I need to get back to her!" Loboto hung his head. "I left her all alone in that cold, cruel lake..."

"Uh... pretty sure she's fine. I sorted out everything in her mental world and she was doing pretty good when I left." Raz turned to the others. "Did you know that her boyfriend's a turtle?"

"...Turtle?” Loboto squeaked, shuddering.

"Well, now that that's settled, it doesn't look like you've got any reason to leave here anytime soon," Otto remarked, tugging Loboto slightly closer. "Like I was saying earlier, if you let me pop out his brain, I could—"

"AAAAAAAAAAAGGHHHH!"

Everyone flinched back, Truman and Oleander rolling their eyes while Raz covered the sides of his helmet, for all the good it would do.

Sasha let out a tremendous sigh. "Just when I thought we'd gotten past this..."

"Now, now," Otto said, turning Loboto to face him. "If you let me have a peek at your brain it would certainly—"

If it were possible, the doctor began screaming louder, struggling even harder to get away.

Around the pain in his head from the noise, Raz glanced in annoyance between Loboto and Otto. Couldn't he see he was just aggravating—

Raz gave a start. "Wait!"

Mercifully Loboto stopped screaming as everyone turned to Raz once more. The doctor's mechanical eyes darted between Otto and Raz, brows creasing as he looked at the latter.

Initially Raz thought to bring up what he'd seen in Loboto's memory vault several days ago, but faltered. He certainly wouldn't want anyone bringing up his memory vaults out of the blue, so maybe... "Uhh... Agent Nein already used a bunch of devices on his brain the other day," Raz said, looking between Sasha and Otto. "Right?"

"Of course, but there's still plenty more I could do without—"

"Maybe you'd get, um, better results if you gave his brain a break from machines for a while," Raz proposed.

Sasha and Otto exchanged glances. "Well... he's not wrong," Sasha admitted. "It would yield more accurate results if he were given time to rest. I did have to use quite a lot of different devices to uncover what he was hiding."

"...I suppose you're right," Otto said, and Raz couldn't help noticing the way he slumped as he spoke.

Loboto heaved a sigh of relief, his terror quickly replaced by annoyance. "Right, and I'd be able to rest well if you let me get back to—"

"However," Otto went on, "Malik did do a number on him—more than could normally be expected from a non-psychic. I do think that brain would be quite interesting to study in the future, so we can better understand what—"

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

"No testing!" Truman cried, waving his hands. "Not if it means we'll have to deal with that screaming!" Once the doctor shut up again, he stepped back, a hand to his head. "Ooof, a migraine's the last thing I need right now, after everything else my brain's been through..."

"Not to mention the poor thing's scared enough as it is," Milla said. She took a step closer to Loboto. "What he really needs is a look into his head—"

"AAA—"

Milla gently tapped him on the tip of the nose, shutting him up. "In your mind, darling, no brain-removal or machines involved."

"Oh," Loboto said dully. "I knew that!"

"Who has time for that though?" Oleander asked. "We've got camp again in less than a week, and some of us have some things to wrap up before then."

Sasha nodded. "Yes, I still have Malik to attend to."

"Yes, Sasha, and you'll need help with that," Milla added, though Raz got the feeling that "help" probably involved more of keeping Sasha in-line.

"Ah, astral projection without the use of additional machines isn't quite my forte," Otto admitted. "Besides, I've research to do to figure out how to get Helmut's body out of the ice."

"I've still got things to catch up on, and Hollis will be out for two weeks..." Truman shook his head. "Most of our other senior agents are out on missions right now, too."

Missions...

Raz looked around at the agents in the room, then at Loboto. "Hey," he said, eyes going wide. "I don't have a mission assigned right now! I could work with Doctor Loboto!"

Immediately the adults turned their attention to him, including Loboto, whose eyes swiveled as he looked Raz over. "You'd be a bit short for an assistant."

"Ra—" Sasha caught himself. "Agent Aquato, you must remember that you are a junior agent. It is highly unorthodox for junior agents to perform a mission entirely solo."

"How come?" Raz crossed his arms. "I've done it before."

"That is true, darling," Milla said, turning to Sasha. "He was the one that rescued you and I a few days ago, when we'd been captured."

"And at the Rhombus, too." Oleander rubbed his chin.

"Not to mention all the others he's helped over the past few days." Otto nodded to Raz, smiling. "He's done wonders to help some of our friends."

"Though it has been such a short time after the last... incident." Milla tipped her head toward Raz. "Agent Aquato, are you sure you'd be ready to take on a new mission so soon?"

Before walking into this room, Raz's answer would have been "no"—he hadn't felt ready at all to begin his real life as a Psychonaut. Going on a full-fledged mission seemed like a lot, especially after everything he'd just gone through. But looking Loboto over, he felt an odd sort of... relief.

"Yes," he said, nodding firmly. "I've dealt with this guy before, anyway. What's one more time?"

"You never scheduled an appointment," Loboto grumbled, drumming his claws soundlessly against the psychic fist.

"This is the young man who saved my brain, but... ohh... I don't know about this," Truman muttered. "If Hollis were here, I'm not sure she'd approve. This man is highly dangerous—"

"Hmm, not so much, now. To the non-psychic world, or when collaborating with another dangerous individual, yes, but not to us, while he’s alone." Sasha nodded to the doctor. “I managed to break through the hypnotism he received, so his withholding information should no longer be an issue. He's been thoroughly searched and his prosthetic no longer has any trace of sneezing powder components. As well, he has no psychic powers of his own."

Raz almost argued against that, but thought better of it.

"Yeah, so long as you're not surrounded by psilirium, he's no match for a psychic," Oleander said, crossing his arms. "He's no threat to any of us."

"Oh, you didn't seem to think so during our first meeting," Loboto said, grinning down at Oleander. "I can still remember you s—" Another psychic hand muffled him.

"Can it, Cal!" Oleander hissed through grit teeth.

"Very well, that settles it, I suppose." Giving Loboto a wide berth, Truman approached Razputin. "Agent Aquato, for your first mission as a junior agent, I am assigning you to the case of Caligosto Loboto. Your mission is to explore his mind and help uncover anything that would aid in this man's... um..." He cast an uncertain glance back at the doctor. "...recovery."

Muffled, angry sounds came from the doctor, and Oleander finally dismissed the psychic hand he'd called. "Recovery?!" Loboto blurted, eyes flashing. "From what? Listening to you bozos yammer all day?"

"Yes, sir!" Raz said, puffing out his chest, fighting the urge to geek out in front of the Grand Head. "I accept this mission!"

"Good. I'll get some paperwork sorted out for you later."

"Don't forget his dental insurance," Loboto muttered, rolling his optics.

Truman pointedly ignored the doctor. "For now, though, get him out to your office and keep him secured."

Raz paused. "...I have an office?"

"Oh." Truman rubbed his head. "I knew I was forgetting something..."

"He can borrow mine for now," Oleander said, "so long as he keeps that mad doctor out of my things. I've got some business to take care of elsewhere."

"But Morry, don't you think my office would be more comfortable for them?" Milla asked. "Your office is..."

"My office is fine, Vodello.” Oleander’s voice dropped to a mutter as he went on, “Or so Hollis tells me..."

"Seems to be settled, then," Otto said, finally tugging Loboto away from the rest of the group and heading toward the exit. "We'll take him to Morry's office and go from there."

"Don't I get a say in this?" Loboto whined, optics swiveling as he was carried.

"Great!" Raz practically leaped after him, only to stop and turn back to Truman. "Don't worry, Grand Head Zanotto, I won't let you down!"

Truman smiled back at him. "Good luck, Agent Aquato."

Milla waved to him. "And don't be afraid to call on any of us for help, darling."

"I'll be okay. Good luck with your own missions, fellow agents!" Raz called back, hurrying to catch up with Otto. He'd hovered gracefully over the stepping stones, while Raz hopped from one to the other. Upon touching down on the other side, he jumped in surprise when Oleander landed abruptly next to him, apparently having bounced over the water via levitation—not something Raz had seen him do before. The Coach mumbled something about "fancy offices" before following Otto out of the room, and Raz rushed after them.

Once he was keeping pace with Oleander, Raz turned to him. "I haven't seen your office yet, Coach."

"Don't expect anything fancy like what you saw from Nein and Vodello," Oleander said. "I think Truman and Forsythe like to play favorites."

"I did search for it, though," Raz went on, then looked down, his brow furrowing. "I saw a plaque with your name on it, but I think someone put it up as a joke. Agent Forsythe had it on a list of 'mission-critical assets' for me to obtain, and when I took it down, the door said 'supply closet' underneath!"

The Coach winced. "Oh.”

Switching gears, Raz fiddled with his gloves. "So, uh, have you been on a mission like this before?"

"Not in a while, but sure," Oleander said, relaxing at the change of topic. "It's pretty common for when we've apprehended troublemakers." Leaning closer to Raz, he lowered his voice. "All you're doing is pokin' around his mind to make sure he doesn't have any thoughts of hurting anyone or causing harm. If he does, we'll have to keep him longer until we get him straightened out, if not just turn 'im over to the authorities."

Turning his gaze back to Loboto, Raz grimaced. "...Oh." That seemed a bit of a tall order, but... Loboto had had a change of heart, hadn't he?

Glancing around uneasily, Oleander cleared his throat. His voice entered Raz’s mind: I’ve also… had a bit of personal experience from the other side of that, recently.

Wait, when did—oh, right. Raz attempted a grin. Well, you must’ve done pretty well, since you didn’t get arrested!

Hmph.

It didn't take them long to reach the Agent wing of the building past the aquarium. There were a lot of offices here Raz hadn't been to—while exploring the Motherlobe had been a top priority, he wasn't about to barge into random agents' offices... except Milla's and Sasha's. They seemed okay with visits.

They passed the smaller offices, and Raz found himself looking around eagerly, wondering where Oleander's office was and how he'd overlooked it. However, Oleander and Otto were approaching the supply closet door, and Raz's brow furrowed. "What are we stopping here for?" Suddenly he perked up. "Oh, is there something we can grab that'll keep keep Loboto subdued—"

"Oh, no, this is our destination," Otto said, frowning at the door. "I see they've yet to fix that label on it."

"Forsythe's had other things on her plate," Oleander grumbled, looking away. "No time to fix a door, I guess."

"Putting me in a closet for solitary confinement, eh?" Loboto raised a brow. "They've tried that. It doesn't work!"

Raz looked between Loboto and the other adults, raising a finger. "Uh...?"

Either neither of them found anything concerning about that remark, or they’d missed it entirely, as Oleander unlocked the door to the "office" and Otto carried Loboto inside.

Oleander hadn't been kidding when he'd said it was "nothing fancy." While the room wasn't as small as Raz had expected (they make supply closets this big? he wondered), it still felt tiny compared to Milla's comfy office and Sasha's spacious lab. In fact, it was slightly smaller than the office within Sasha’s lab. A portion of it was dedicated to a large wooden desk with a rolling chair cranked up to its full height, and a couple other chairs sitting off to the side of that. A large metal cabinet took up another significant chunk of the space, as did a short bookshelf lined with books on mechanics, military tactics, and psychic techniques (Raz recognized a copy of Mindswarm that stuck awkwardly out from the other books), as well as a few out-of-place looking rabbit figurines. The walls were covered in posters for different military branches, and several medals hung above the desk.

No, it wasn't big or fancy, but it was definitely Coach Oleander's office.

It did feel a bit more cramped than Raz would have liked, and the fact that there were no windows did not help. For a moment he wondered if it was too late to take Milla up on her offer to use her office instead, but he didn't want to upset the Coach.

"You're free to interrogate our captive to your heart's content here," Oleander said, waving his hand out. "Just don't let him touch my stuff."

One of Loboto's optics extended toward the medals on the wall. "No need to worry about that. I don't have much need for plastic."

"Don't worry, Morry," Otto said over Oleander's growls. Lifting Loboto with his psychic fist, he gently sat him down on one of the chairs. "I think your craftsmanship looks very convincing."

"Thanks." Oleander looked at Otto askance before facing Raz again. "You know how to keep an enemy restrained, right, soldier?"

"Uhh..." Raz looked at the fist holding Loboto. "I've never done that before. I can pick people up, kinda, but not... restrain them." His stomach gave a sudden twist at the realization that he was unprepared for such a basic part of the mission.

"No need to worry!" Otto said, eyes lighting up in excitement as he fished something out of his pocket. "I grabbed this just in case before carrying this strange fellow out of my lab." He held the object out eagerly.

Raz found himself looking down at what appeared to be a large wad of tightly-wound cables with a red light mounted to the top. Frowning, he looked back up at Otto. "But I thought Sasha said no machines?"

"None that will affect his mind. Here!" He placed the device in Raz's palm. "This is a device I made specifically to use when dealing with non-psychics. There's a switch in it that can only be activated with telekinesis! So hold it out to our friend there, and go ahead and activate it."

"Okay..." Raz held up the device flat in his palm, the light facing him, the other side facing Loboto, who was starting to look slightly unnerved, his optics twitching to look in different directions around the room. "Here goes!" Reaching out with telekinesis, he felt the switch within the device, and activated it. Otto let go of Loboto the second the device sprang out of Raz's hand. Multiple cables rapidly uncoiled and immediately latched onto Loboto, who yelped. The cables effectively tied Loboto to the chair, rendering him immobile, and the red light (now in front of Loboto's chest) turned green with a cheery ding!

It was very hard to maintain a professional air after seeing actual Psychonauts spy-gear at work, and Raz couldn't help but let slip a wowed "cool."

Loboto looked significantly less impressed as he stared down at the device keeping him still. "You know a dental chair would have worked better. They've got restraints and everything."

"There! Works like a charm," Otto said, beaming. "You won't have to worry about maintaining a telekinetic grip on him now, so you can keep your psychic abilities focused on the mission at hand."

"You'll want to work on some better telekinesis later, soldier, but tools like this can help you in a pinch," Oleander remarked. "You ready to begin your mission?"

With a confident grin, Raz nodded to his senior agents. "Yes, absolutely! Thank you Agents Oleander, Mentallis!" He hopped onto the desk chair.

"Call me if you need backup!" Oleander said as he turned to leave. "That guy's craftier than he looks."

"Good luck!" Otto turned to leave as well. "Bring that back when you're done, and be sure to give me some feedback on it as well. I'm still testing it."

"Uh—"

The door shut behind them, leaving Raz and Loboto alone in the office.

Chapter Text

The two faced each other awkwardly.

As Raz looked into Loboto's mechanical eyes, his mind suddenly yanked him back to a few days ago when he'd been staring into those eyes from a very different position. His limbs had been bound to a modified dentist chair, and Loboto had been rifling through a tray of items like metal clamps, a rusty bone saw, and others Raz could not identify. A shudder ran down his spine, and he scooted his chair back until it touched the desk behind him.

Loboto's brows raised, his grin growing slightly wider. "Ah, I remember that look."

With a jolt, Raz shook his head, bringing himself back to the present. What was that? Ugh, no, he's the one tied up, not you. And your psychic powers aren't limited this time. He resisted the urge to rub his forehead. You're on a real mission now, Raz, don't blow it! He faced Loboto again, back straightening as he looked him in the eyes one more. "Don't you also remember what happened back at the Rhombus?"

The smile promptly faded (or as much as it could, anyway), and Loboto turned away with a grunt. "Yes, I had a nice change of heart and I'm all better now," he growled. "So you can just tell that army man and the others about that, and let me go, and we can all move on with our lives!"

Yeah, that sounds real convincing. It was clear the doctor was just looking for a way out, but Raz couldn't really blame him. "I'd be happy to let you go, Doctor Loboto," he began, and Loboto turned to him, brows raised. "But before I can do that, there's a few things we'll need to do."

"Ugh, that's what that green man said, and I'm still here," Loboto whined, leaning back against his seat, his movements limited by the restraints.

"Is that, um... too uncomfortable?" Raz found himself asking, glancing at the cables.

Optics twitching down to look himself over, Loboto shrugged. "No worse than the time I got tangled up in my own jacket."

"I... see." He decided not to push that. Instead, he slowly TK'd his borrowed Psycho-Portal from his bag and to his hand, and held it up so Loboto could see. "Doctor Loboto, would you mind if I took a look inside your mental world again?"

Loboto's mechanical eyes extended, looking the door over. "Funny. You didn't ask the first two times."

Raz flinched. "Err... in my defense, you were trying to steal my brain that first time."

Though Loboto tensed, he went on, "Last I checked, you were the ones to barge into my base."

"Barge into..." The memory of one of the vaults he'd encountered in Loboto's mind came back to him, and Raz swallowed back a laugh. "I think you got things a little confused there."

"Oh?" His mechanical eyes adjusted as they looked into Raz's own. "You're telling me you didn't barge into my base, assault my peaceful guards, and kidnap me?"

"Uh... yeah, I am telling you that. Our jet crashed into the Rhombus, your guards captured us, and you were a stowaway on the jet." He paused. "Oh, and one of your 'peaceful' guards was armed with an electric cattle prod."

"Oh." Loboto glanced away. "I could have sworn that it went differently... So you didn't pry into my memories then without asking?"

"Uhhh... Well, no, I did kinda—"

"AHA!" Loboto cried, kicking out his feet and jarring the chair. "This is why I don't trust you psychics. You ruin everything!"

Feeling his stomach sink, Raz hunched down in his chair. "I... I thought we'd made some good progress back in the Rhombus of Ruin. Don't you feel any better after I helped take out that monster and—"

"Yes, I feel much better after you dredged up bad memories and saw me bathing." Loboto's eyes swirled in an approximation of an eye roll, his lips drawn tight.

"...Point taken." Crossing his arms, Raz leaned back against his chair. "Look, I think we got off on the wrong foot."

"What was your first clue?"

"But I can make up for that."

"So you can release me?"

"No, but if I take another look into your mind, I can try to help you more." He held up the Psycho-Portall again hopefully. "Do you mind if I take a look again?"

Loboto's mouth twisted. "Yes," he said, and Raz perked up, only for the doctor to continue, "I do mind!"

"...Oh." Biting his lip, Raz fiddled with the Psycho-Portal. Well... this isn't a situation Hollis or Sasha prepared me for.

"I've had it barged into three times now, not to mention all the experiments that man performed on me..." For the first time in a while, Loboto was actually starting to look uncomfortable.

"Three times?" Raz remarked, lifting his head. "When did—"

"That green man who kept smoking cigarettes around me," he snapped. "That stuff's bad enough for your teeth, let alone how bad it smells!"

"Oh, you mean Agent Nein..." Raz took a moment to mull everything over, looking down at the portal in his hands again. "That was kinda different, Doctor Loboto. Truman was in danger, and so was everyone else. No one wanted to hurt you, but you were the only one who knew the identity of the mole. And it wasn't your fault that you couldn't comply." Well... mostly. "That's why we had to go about some more... invasive procedures." He managed a slight laugh at the little joke, and looked up.

But Loboto looked far from amused—he'd gone pale, rigid, and very still.

"...Doctor Loboto? Are you all right?"

It took him a moment to manage an answer, and his voice was strangely small: "H-he'll... have me drowned for that."

Raz's eyes widened—had no one told him? "No, Doctor Loboto! Gristol Malik's been put in the psychoisolation chamber, and No—er, Maligula's not going to hurt anyone. We all made sure of that!" He took a moment to bring his voice down, speaking more calmly: "Neither of them can hurt you now. You're safe."

"...Ps... psycho... what's...?"

Raz shook his head; right, of course he didn't know. "Sorry! The psychoisolation chamber—it's a place that uses filtered psilirium to negate psychic powers. And currently it's locked from the outside, so Gristol can't get out. He's stuck in there for now."

"So he... c-can't send her to drown me?"

"No, Loboto, no one's going to drown you."

Finally Loboto relaxed, letting out a relieved sigh as the color returned to his face. "I've had previous clients follow up on these kinds of threats before..." he said, the claws on his prosthetic clicking together a couple times for emphasis. "You can never be too sure."

Raz nodded slowly, only to give a start. "Wait, previous clients? Who else have you worked for?"

The doctor tensed again, though now his brows were furrowed in anger rather than knitted in terror. "I told you before—doctor-patient confidentiality! I'm done with them, anyway."

"But what threats did they—"

"Don't you have anything better to do?" Loboto snapped. "Go pester that pesky prince if you're looking for someone to bother!"

"Well, I would like to ask Gristol some things, but he's under Agent Nein's care right now."

"Then go bother that little army man! That guy's got a lot of issues."

"I did," Raz said, unable to resist puffing up his chest a bit. "I actually went into his mind—sorta... accidentally—and helped him get a few things straightened out. He's doing a lot better now!" He paused. "I think."

"Well why don't you go make sure? I've got places to go, people to avoid—"

"Doctor Loboto!" Raz threw his arms out in exasperation. "I can't let you go until I make sure you're not going to hurt anyone."

"...Oh." Loboto's eyes flickered in something resembling a blink. "That's all?"

Relieved, Raz smiled. "More or less, I think. I just need to go into your mind, make sure you’re not gonna cause any more trouble, and maybe... help you sort out a few things. Once everything's good, we can let you go!"

"Really!" The doctor's eyes gleamed, his smile looking a bit more genuine. "Well if that's all, go right ahead!"

"Yes!" Raz cried with a fist-pump. Realizing what he'd done, he cleared his throat, straightening his jacket. "I mean, uh, I appreciate your cooperation."

"Yes, yes, fine, let's get this over with." Loboto leaned forward a fraction, as though inviting Raz to throw the Psycho-Portal.

Grinning, Raz tossed the Psycho-Portal forward, and it landed neatly on Loboto's forehead. As the door opened, Raz slid his goggles over his eyes, his astral projection slipping from his mind and diving through the door...

Raz had prepared for teeth.

He'd prepared for the slimy tongues and gums underfoot; the oversized dental equipment digging into equally oversized teeth; the disgusting, pulsating veins throbbing in the walls.

He had not prepared for cardboard.

Blinking, Raz looked around the dimly-lit room. Three of the walls, part of the ceiling overhead, and even the floor beneath his feet were all made of cardboard, as though he were a bug stuck in a shoebox without a lid. The light, which flickered dully somewhere out of the darkness beyond where the lid of the box should be, illuminated large scraps of cardboard and paper that had been glued and plastered around him.

"Maybe he's... into recycling?" Raz wondered out loud, and walked up to examine one of the nearby cardboard scraps. Now that he was closer, he could see it had been sketched on with a pencil. While the drawings weren't exactly terrible, they did look hastily-done, and it took Raz a moment to figure out what he was looking at: a line of stick-people, all happy and smiling with wide, toothy grins.

The cardboard scrap suddenly wobbled back and forth. "We love going to the dentist!" a fake, scratchy voice rang out in the distance, as though voicing the thoughts of the stick-figures. "He's so nice and wonderful!"

Raz stared.

"You have got to be kidding me."

Moving on, he found a torn piece of paper that was wilting where it had been poorly glued to the floor. Raz lifted it up to find a drawing of a toothy-grinned lady cradling a little baby in her arms. The baby also had a full set of teeth.

Just as he yanked his hand away in revulsion, the paper lifted up of its own accord, waving back and forth like the cardboard drawing had. "Doctor Loboto is a very wonderful and very licensed dentist!" came the same voice as before, only now raised to a false feminine pitch. "I trust him with my child's life!"

The paper wobbled one more time. "GOO."

Finally the paper flopped back over, and Raz could only stare blankly at it. "...Oh boy."

He got the feeling he knew what was happening here, but... maybe he should... humor him?

Continuing through the diorama, Raz stopped in front of the next cardboard piece. While this one was hastily-drawn like the others were, it looked like it also had a few parts erased and scribbled over. It featured a man grinning, but a few of his teeth were filled in with black graphite, as though they were missing. In an outstretched hand, he held the missing teeth... but looking closely, Raz could see the outline of a round, swirly object that had been erased. As well, the man's head had clearly been redrawn, with a section of it off to the side that was scribbled out—the top half of the man's head, looking like it had been opened like a lid.

The cardboard wobbled suddenly, and Raz yelped, stumbling back as the fake voice spoke up: "The dentist does a very good job removing bad brains—TEETH! TEETH! NOT BRAINS! TEETH!"

Sighing, Raz trudged onward, stopping to inspect each crude cut-out as he passed. Each of them were along the same lines as the others, featuring people with toothy grins all insisting what a great person and a great dentist Doctor Loboto was. A few of them, like the one earlier, also had references to brains hastily replaced with teeth.

"He is good and has learned his lesson!" a later drawing insisted, and the next chunk of cardboard wobbled enthusiastically, adding, "He should be set free!"

"Yes!" More cardboard-and-paper cut-outs wobbled in agreement. "He should be set free!"

Finally Raz reached the end of the diorama, which featured a large, crayon drawing of Loboto frolicking through a grassy field, a rainbow overhead, and teeth and dental tools inexplicably floating around him. A party noisemaker honked somewhere in the distance, followed by the voice repeatedly making cheering noises in varying tones and pitches, as though trying to emulate a large crowd.

Raz stood back to regard the drawing, his hands on his hips. "Well, this sure is... something."

"What do you think?" one of the fake voices called.

Rubbing his chin, Raz considered the most clever way he could put this, and grinned. "I think... it's good you're being frugal with art supplies," he said, looking back at the rest of the diorama.

"Oh?" The voice cracked, and cleared its throat. "Um, why?"

"Because you can burn through them pretty fast!"

Before the voice could respond, Raz summoned his pyrokinesis, igniting the paper and cardboard immediately around him. The fire quickly spread, eating through the hasty drawings and glue.

An enraged snarl echoed from the darkness around him, and Doctor Loboto gave up on trying to disguise his voice. "See! I told you!" he growled.

Raz merely grinned out into the darkness where he assumed Loboto was watching. But the quickly-disintegrating cardboard beneath his feet began to sink, and he realized he didn't know what was beneath this diorama, or if it was even sitting on anything. "Uh, wait—"

"Psychics ruin everything!"

The last word boomed around him as Raz finally crashed through the floor, yelling as he plummeted into the darkness below.

Chapter Text

After a few moments of free-fall, Raz remembered to whip out a thought bubble, slowing his descent, but there was no floor in sight—nothing but darkness surrounded him. Looking up, he couldn't even see the cardboard diorama he'd started in, or the light that had illuminated it.

"Doctor Loboto?" he called out. "Where are you?"

Raz did not hear the doctor's voice in response... but he did hear something else. It was a faint sound beneath him, and he had to focus to listen. It was steadily growing louder as he drifted lower, and his blood ran cold the second he recognized the sound:

Waves.

Half a second later, the thought bubble popped, sending him into a free-fall once again. "NO! NO!" he screamed, flailing his arms as he tried to gather his thoughts again. But now he could make out the shape of the waves in the dark water below, swelling and crashing, the gaping maws of the crests threatening to swallow him.

He could not slow his descent, and even if he could, it would be no use. There was no shore; only the cold, open sea.

Raz hit the water just as a wave crashed over his head, plunging him further beneath the surface. The water roared in his ears, filling his mouth and nose, and immediately soaked through his clothing. It should have felt colder than it did, but that was not his concern at the moment. Frantically he struggled and kicked himself back to the surface, coughing up seawater and taking a desperate gasp of air. "Help!" he cried, flailing his limbs in some attempt to stay afloat. He didn't know who or what would possibly answer him out here, but he didn't care. "I can't swim!"

But wait, what happened to the Hand of Galochio? Shouldn't it have tried to grab him by—

Another wave crashed over his head, plunging him under. Again he flailed, managing to pull himself back up to the surface, taking another desperate gasp of air. "HELP!" he screamed. "I CAN'T—"

And there was the hand, suddenly shoved over his mouth, preventing him from talking or breathing. But no, no, no, it wasn't supposed to hurt him, it wasn't a curse, it was just in his head, it couldn't be—

Something was pulled off from over his ears, and the raging waters were gone.

"Quiet," a voice hissed.

Raz blinked, lifting his head.

There was no open sea. What had felt like waves were in fact cold, thin sheets, tangled all around him where he sat on a massive bed. His helmet was gone, he felt dizzy and nauseated, and there was something glowing yellow nearby. Turning his head, he recognized the exact shade of psilirium, and scrambled back with a yelp.

The glow was coming from within a pair of earmuffs, which were quickly carried away. Raz didn't immediately recognize the person holding them, but they seemed oddly familiar. Even so, he struggled to sit upright, glaring in the direction the person had walked off in. The room was dark, with only moonlight creeping through a dirty window nearby. "What was that for?" he demanded. Spotting his helmet lying next to him, he quickly shoved it back onto his head. "That stuff's dangerous—"

"Shhhh!" The person hurried back over to him, helping untangle him from the sheets. "We gotta get out of here—quick!"

Now that the psilirium source was farther away, Raz could focus enough to get a better look at the person, and gave a start.

It was a boy, looking around his age, though a fair bit taller. His skin was blue, and he wore a sailor's outfit without the cap. His hair was a messy purple-black, and a pair of thick glasses sat over his eyes. One lens was red, the other green.

Raz stared. "Doctor—?"

The kid gasped, yanking Raz away from the bed, grabbing him by the wrist, and running. There was a desk in the far corner of the room, and they darted underneath it, crouching in the darkness. Raz wasn't entirely sure what they were hiding from, but the air in the room crackled with tension, and he did not argue.

"D-did you see it...?" the kid asked him in the faintest whisper.

"See what?"

"I... I thought you said you saw the doctor?" The kid turned to him.

"Huh? But I wasn't—"

He paused.

No, of course this version of him wasn't a doctor. He was just Loboto... or maybe... what had the Coach called him? "Oh, I'm sorry, um... Cal," he said, adjusting his jacket. "I guess it was something else."

The tension in the air eased, only a little. "...Cali," the kid mumbled, shuffling where he sat. "Not 'Cal.'"

"Right, sorry, Cali," Raz said, then frowned. "What did you put those psilirium earmuffs on me for? That stuff's really dangerous!"

"I didn't!" he whispered. "They did."

"Who's..." He realized it the second he spoke. "The doctors?"

Cali hesitantly poked his head out from under the desk, looking one way, then another. "They'll be back soon. We need to leave."

"Okay, Cali." Raz prepared to crawl back out into the open. "Can you lead?"

"I can try," Cali answered, and Raz followed him out. Cali took his sleeve again, using his other hand to feel around the room, and the two crept out into the hallway. It was narrow and winding, making it impossible to tell what lay down either end, but Cali seemed to know where to go, immediately taking him to the right.

They’d only gone a short distance when a series of rapid footsteps came from behind them. Cali gasped, yanking Raz through the nearest doorway, and the two hid on either side of the open door. A small horde of Censors scurried down the hall with a chorus of “no’s,” each of the mental constructs wearing white robes.

“...Are those the doctors?” Raz asked, glancing at Cali, who frowned and shook his head.

“Nurses. They’re no good either.”

Right, that figured. Once the “nurses” had fled, they crept out into the hall again.

As they sneaked through the silent building, Raz took a moment to assess the situation. He'd somehow fallen into some deep corner of Loboto's mind—a corner where his inner child still lurked. This place seemed to be an old hospital, and its twisting hallways reminded him vaguely of Thorney Towers. They were on the run from doctors, apparently, though he had to wonder if they were an actual mental construct like the Censors (though probably more nightmarish than those), or if Cali only feared old shadows.

Not to mention, what was Cali doing here anyway? He'd seen him before, but that was in a memory vault. Raz hadn't run into many “inner childs” in the worlds he'd been in, other than Oleander's... and Oleander's inner child had been there due to unresolved trauma.

Raz looked back at Cali, then at the dark hospital hallway, and frowned.

Right. That made sense.

But I thought I'd already helped him with this, Raz thought. Guess it can't really get resolved overnight. Maybe there's something else I missed.

Cali tensed, then tugged Raz’s sleeve and pulled him into a nearby closet where several white doctors' robes hung. They instinctively ducked behind the clothing, holding the robes over themselves to hide.

"Did you hear something?" Raz whispered. "I didn't hear any footsteps."

"They don't make footsteps," Cali informed him. He poked his head out from the closet, and Raz followed suit, looking back and forth down the hallway and wondering what Cali meant.

A malevolent yellow glow emanated from one end of the hallway, and Raz gasped, covering himself up with one of the coats again. Cali did the same, turning to him fearfully. Raz met his gaze before cautiously peeking out into the hallway again.

He saw it.

A towering purple-black figure dragged itself across the floor, great beams of yellow light shining from its eyes to search the hall. It wore multiple bloodied doctors robes over its body, a red-stained doctor's mask over its face, and what looked like a stethoscope around its neck. Behind it, a singular arm dragged a bone saw along the ground. But those yellow-and-orange eyes and the thin, curved horns made Raz sure of its identity.

It wasn't a nightmarish mental figure. It was a Nightmare.

That's what this place was—it was the realm of Loboto's nightmares.

The Nightmare's gaze drifted throughout the hall, but it ignored the closet entirely, slinking silently past it.

Raz started breathing again, not realizing until that moment that he'd stopped. Cali had apparently done the same as he slunk down into a seated position, and Raz sat with him. "You okay?"

"No," Cali said, drawing his knees up to his chest. "The doctors are everywhere. I... I wanna get out of here."

"We can get out of here, Cali." He placed a hand on the other kid's shoulder. When Cali flinched, he pulled it away. "I know they're scary, but... a personal friend of mine figured out how to take control of hers. If she can do it, we can, too, right?"

"I-I don't wanna control them. I just wanna get away."

"Well, we can do that, too. Come on!" Raz stood and offered a hand to Cali, but the kid stood on his own. If worse came to worst, Raz was pretty sure he remembered how to fight the Nightmares. But he knew this was something Loboto needed to learn to do on his own. "Do you know how to get out of here?"

"If I did, I wouldn't still be here," Cali muttered. "But... I... I think I know where the exits are supposed to be."

"Great! Let's start there."

Nodding, Cali took him by the sleeve again and led him out into the hallway once more. They crept as silently as they could, hoping to avoid the bright gazes of the Nightmares. As they passed other rooms, Raz caught glimpses of figments: distressed patients lying on beds, doctors (with expressions ranging from evil to uncaring) hovering over them, and tools scattered along the floors and trays. In spite of his instinct to rush in and grab them, he glanced back at Cali, and decided this could wait.

The yellow gleam of a Nightmare shone around the corner, and they ducked into the nearest room, scrambling under the bed. The hair on the back of Raz’s neck stood on end as the creature's head swung through the doorway, its yellow gaze sweeping over the room. It failed to spot them, and moved on.

As they waited for the creature to pass, Raz took a moment to survey the figments around the room. Since he wasn't snagging them immediately, he noticed a few things: several of the tool figments were of bone saws, scalpels, and what he assumed must be ice picks. On top of that, there was a total lack of figments of... certain people, but maybe he'd spot those later.

When the Nightmare was a sufficient distance away, they crept out from under the bed, and Cali led him out of the room and back into the hallway. It wasn't much longer before Raz spotted a figment overhead resembling a red, glowing "EXIT" sign with an arrow pointing right. "Hey, there it is!" Raz whispered, smiling at Cali, but the other kid didn't look any happier. When they turned the corner, Raz saw why: the exit door was boarded up.

"Oh... so that's what you meant by 'where the exits are supposed to be.' Huh." Raz rubbed his chin in thought, while Cali drooped at his side.

"It's still blocked," Cali murmured, approaching the door. He reached out to one of the boards, giving it a half-hearted tug. "I'm not strong enough to pull this out."

"Well, that's easy to fix," Raz said, stepping forward and holding one hand against his head, reaching out with the other. "Nothing a little pyrokinesis can't take care of—"

"No!"

Cali tackled him, knocking them both to the floor.

"What the—?!" Raz tried to push himself upright, but Cali held him down. "What are you doing? I can have us out of here in a few seconds!"

"No, you can't!" Cali cried in a harsh whisper. "That's what got me here in the first place!"

"What, setting stuff on fire? Hey, this'll be the one time we have to do it, and then—"

Cali shook his head. "No, not just that! The bad brain stuff! S-setting stuff on fire, hearing people even when they don’t speak, picking stuff up without touching it, all of it!"

Before Raz got the chance to think this over, something yellow entered the corner of his vision, and the sound of high-pitched “no’s” reached his ears. Cali whimpered, grabbing Raz by his bag, and hauled him upright. "Hurry, hurry!" he hissed, still holding the strap of Raz’s bag as he bolted down the hallway and away from the exit door, passing the intersection they'd originally turned at. Raz found himself dragged backwards, and moved his feet accordingly to keep himself from slowing Cali down. Another Nightmare was rounding the corner toward them, the rusty blade of its bone saw scraping the wall as it turned.

The narrow hallway they fled down opened up into a ward with dim, flickering lights overhead. Individual beds were sectioned off by curtains, most of them closed—it would be harder to get into those without the Nightmare or the Censors noticing the movement of the curtains. But the yellow beams nearly reached them, and Raz, spotting an open curtain nearby, threw himself through it, dragging Cali along with him.

The two of them scrambled to their hands and knees, Cali ducking under a chair and Raz hiding beneath the bed as the Nightmare stood in the opening. Its gaze swept across the sectioned-off room, and Raz scooted further back when the yellow light nearly reached him. For a tense moment the Nightmare remained, staring at the top of the bed Raz hid beneath before it finally slunk back out into the ward. A couple Censors peeked in as well, looking around, only to exchange glances and shake their heads with an echoed “no” before hurrying away.

As Raz took a moment to catch his breath, he climbed out from beneath the bed, curious as to what the Nightmare had been looking at. A jolt ran down his spine when he recognized a figment of Cali lying on the bed and wearing a flimsy hospital gown, another figment of a worn-out teddy bear sitting next to him. He looked at the chair that the "real" Cali was crawling out from beneath, but it was unoccupied.

"Is this where they took you...?" Raz asked, looking over the bed, and Cali wrapped his arms around himself.

"Yeah," Cali muttered, shivering. "I don't like it here. It's cold."

Raz took another glance at the empty chair. "Your parents really left you here alone?" he whispered, and the other kid froze.

"They... said they'd come back for me."

Part of Raz wondered if they ever did, but that wasn't something this part of Loboto's memory would know. He changed tracks. "So you were brought here because of your powers, huh."

Cali's gaze drifted down to his feet, and after a moment, he gave a slow nod.

Raz shuddered.

It had been horrifying enough just seeing the memory vault, with the stuffing spilling out of the heads of the plush toys, but being here, in Loboto's memory of the hospital...

"But... but I won't do it again," Cali went on, lifting his head. "If I don't do the bad brain stuff again, they can't do anything to me.” His smile was not a happy one. “And... and then I can go home."

Raz felt a sharp pain in his chest, memories of him and Frazie practicing their psi-powers in secret flitting through his mind. They'd only used their powers when they were alone, or when they thought no one was watching. (No one other than the circus audience, who would think it was just part of the act.) But they'd never wanted their parents to see, afraid of what they might do. Frazie had wanted to hide her powers indefinitely, but Raz couldn't do that, despite how his parents had opposed it at the time. It had felt terrible enough when his dad had torn up his pamphlet...

He looked back at the figment of Cali huddled on the bed, and then at the real Cali with his smile twisted into one of terrified hope.

No wonder Cali wanted to stop using his powers altogether.

The kid’s smile fell. "Let's go," he urged, tugging Raz's sleeve once more. "They'll be back here soon."

"...Okay, Cali," Raz said slowly. "Can you show me another place where you think we could escape?"

Nodding, Cali glanced out into the ward. "I can try... but I dunno if it'll work." Reaching out, he took the end of Raz's sleeve again, tugging him into the ward once again. "But... I wanna get out of this place, anyway."

"I don't blame you," Raz murmured as he followed the other kid's lead. He took one last glance at the bed through the curtains before they moved out of sight.

Past the ward, they found themselves in yet another winding hallway—one that looked the same as all the others they'd traversed. Raz had to wonder how this kid knew them so well, and his stomach twisted at the thought that maybe this "inner child" had been wandering these halls since the surgery. He wasn't a real kid, sure, but that couldn't mean anything good for Loboto. Though he had to wonder...

"Cali," he whispered. "Have you... seen any other kids here?"

Cali paused. "...No," he admitted. "Just you."

"Why did you decide to help me?"

Though the kid did not answer, Raz noticed him shivering and breathing harder for a moment. Suddenly Cali glanced to the side, then tugged on Raz's sleeve, leading him on. "There's another one coming," he whispered.

Raz looked around, but saw no telltale yellow gleam.

It wasn't long before Cali guided him into another room, this one quite different from the others they'd entered. Rather than an operation room or a ward, it was a large storage room with a high ceiling. Metal racks lined the walls to the right and left, filled with medical supplies and samples in jars, and a few figments of more tools. Other than that, the room was eerily empty, with its only other defining feature being a single horizontal window high up on the wall. Moonlight gleamed through it, giving the room a faint blue hue.

"Listen," Cali whispered.

Tilting his head and concentrating, Raz could hear the wind outside, accompanied by a faint whistling sound coming from the window. "Sounds like the window might be open a little."

"Yeah..." Frowning, Cali approached the far wall, looking up at the window. "It's too high to reach, though."

Raz sized up the height of the wall. Even if he stood on Cali's shoulders, he wouldn't be able to reach it. It was definitely too high for an acrobat of his size, but not a psychic acrobat. "I think we could reach it," he said, and Cali spun around, his brows raised. "But... I'd have to use levitation."

"No!" Cali cried, waving his hands. "You can't!" He was shaking again, and held his head in his hands. "W-we can't do that, then they'll make us stay here, and...!"

"...Cali." Raz approached him slowly. "I know you don't want to hear this, but I think if we want to get out of here, we'll have to use our powers."

"No!" he cried again, loud enough that Raz cast a worried glance back at the doorway. "I-I won't, I can't! I'm g-gonna be a good boy, I told my parents I'd be good!"

He knew that feeling—that feeling of just wanting his parents to be happy with him, even though they didn't like the part of him he couldn't control. "Your parents aren't here right now, Cali."

"But if I do the bad brain stuff, th-then I c-can't go home...!" Cali was shaking.

Oh, this is what they call a Catch 22, isn't it? Raz thought. Though I think I'd call lit a pain in the—

Shaking his head, Raz took another step closer, holding out his hands beseechingly. "Listen... we won't be able to go home if we don't use our powers."

Cali said nothing, only remaining with his head in his hands, his body still trembling. However, his breathing was also picking up, building rapidly in pace until Raz realized the other kid was hyperventilating.

"Woah, woah, hey—"

Cali's legs abruptly buckled, and he sank down to the floor, his breathing still quick and shallow. I'm gonna die here, he was thinking, his thoughts so panicked and loud that Raz could hear them easily. I'm trapped forever, I'm never gonna go home, I'm never gonna go home...

Okay, okay, Raz thought frantically, kneeling down next to him. You remember how Dad handles this with Frazie. "It's all right, Cali. Slow down, breathe..."

But Cali looked up, still gasping, his face pale and his gaze somewhere over Raz's shoulder.

The hair stood on the back of Raz's neck. While there was no yellow glow, there was a bright, multicolored flashing flickering off the walls, and Raz realized abruptly what was standing behind him.

Spinning around, Raz launched a time bubble, barely missing the Panic Attack as it teleported to the other side of the room, its talons gripping the shelves against the wall. Raz fired a psi-blast at it before sending another time bubble toward it, gritting his teeth as the monster's bright colors faded to gray. "It's all right, Cali—I'll take care of this!" he said, rushing toward the Panic Attack again, keenly aware that Cali was watching him use his powers.

This probably isn't going to help much, but—what am I supposed to do? Raz thought as the Panic Attack teleported again, this time standing uncomfortably close to Cali. Hopping onto his levitation ball, Raz charged at the Panic Attack, putting himself between the monster and the kid and swinging a psi-punch at the former. Behind him, Cali was still gasping and shuddering. "I won't let it hurt you," Raz said with a quick glance over his shoulder. "Just try to breathe, okay?"

The Panic Attack, meanwhile, leaped backwards, duplicating itself. Multiple copies of it, their bright colors returning, spread out before the room's exit, and Raz fired multiple psi-blasts, hitting the real target on his second try. Its clones disappeared, and Raz dodged another swipe of its claws before throwing another time bubble. With the Panic Attack slowed once again, Raz managed a few more punches, striking it in the shoulder and the side of its jaw. Finally with a defeated snarl, the thing disintegrated, its flashing colors fading and plummeting the room into cool blue shadows once again.

Panting, Raz turned around to see Cali finally regaining control of his breathing. He was still shaky, but he'd come out of the worst of the panic attack. The kid sniffed, pushing up his glasses to rub his eye with the heel of his hand. "I-I'm sorry," he stammered.

"It's okay," Raz said, taking a seat next to him. "It happens sometimes. You did a pretty good job, though! I don't usually beat those things so fast." He gave an encouraging smile.

"No," Cali said, drawing up his knees and wrapping his arms around his legs. "I'm s-sorry you had to use the bad brain stuff..."

"Don't be sorry about that!" Raz's brow furrowed, and he moved to kneel in front of the other kid. "Listen, Cali... I know how the world treats us because of our powers... how our parents treat us. But it's not wrong to use it. It's part of who we are." Glancing down, he gently TK'd his Psychonaut badge off from the spot where it had been pinned, and held it between them. "I couldn't ignore who I was... and using my powers got me to where I am today."

Cali stared at the badge dully. "Using my powers got me here."

Raz returned his badge, standing up. "And it can get you out of here." He reached down, offering his hand.

Staring at the outstretched hand, Cali debated accepting it, only to freeze.

Raz wondered why... until yellow lights reflected off Cali's glasses. Shuddering, he turned around, and his stomach sank. Not one, but two Nightmares crept into the room, standing between the two kids and the exit. Half a dozen Censors followed, standing directly in the doorway.

"Oh, no..."

He'd fought Nightmares before—Boyd's, specifically—but only one at a time, and they'd been bad enough to fight even then. An old instinct told him to grab a slice of bacon to call Ford for advice, but he didn't have any on him. Aghhh, how do I fight these things...? he wondered, gritting his teeth as his eyes darted from one Nightmare to the other. He'd only fought them a few days ago, but it felt like ages—

The yellow lights of the Nightmares' eyes faded to gray, their movements slowing. The Censors slowed with them.

Blinking, Raz stepped back. Wait, did I do that? He looked back at Cali, wondering if the other kid knew what was going on, and jumped.

Cali was standing upright, one hand to his temple, the other hand forward, his teeth grit. "Go away!" he snarled. "You're not gonna hurt him, too!"

"Cali!" Raz cried. His heart leapt at seeing the kid use his powers, but something... wasn't right about what he'd said. That would have to come later—for now, he took a psychic stance next to Cali. "Come on, we can take these guys!"

"We can try..."

Though moving slowly, the Nightmares were still active. One of them lunged forward, and a hole opened up on the floor right between Raz and Cali. Multiple demonic limbs reached out, each of them holding scalpels and drills and other medical tools, and both kids leaped to either side.

"I'll take this one, and you take the other!" Raz cried, firing off several psi-blasts at the Nightmare on the left. “I’ll try to get the Censors when I can!”

"Okay...! I think I can get those." Cali cast a quick glance to his side before TKing several items off the nearby shelves and into the Nightmare on the right, as well as several of the Censors. The items moved as fast as psi-blasts, immediately taking out the smaller enemies, and Raz couldn't help a surprised "Wow!" at seeing the other kid's skill.

Still, he had this other Nightmare to take care of. Keeping his focus on the mental enemy, Raz fired several other shots at it in quick succession. The last one missed as the Nightmare regained its colors and dipped through the floor. "Rats!" Raz hissed, searching the floor to see where his target would re-emerge. Sensing something immediately behind him, he spun around, only to stumble back when the Nightmare abruptly swung its bone saw at him. "YIKES!"

Leaping away with levitation, Raz resumed firing psi-blasts at the Nightmare. To his relief, it finally tipped back, its midsection ripping open as multiple Personal Demons flew out of its body. Memories of his previous fights with these things returned, and he snagged one of the demons with TK, tossing it back into the Nightmare's body. The Nightmare reformed, but remained still, and one quick psi-punch finally shattered it.

"Whew," he gasped, looking back at Cali. The other kid looked tired, but the second Nightmare was gone as well. "Hey, you did it!"

"Yeah," Cali panted. "I... I think so."

Grinning, Raz stepped up to him again. "Sounds like you've finally got a grip on fighting your Nightmares." He looked up toward the window. "Ready to get out of here?"

Cali followed his gaze, and hesitated. "I... I dunno," he said, wrapping his arms around himself and hanging his head. "I can't go home like this..."

"Maybe not back to your parents," Raz said. "But.. maybe you'll find somewhere else to go."

"But where?" Cali looked him in the eyes. "I dunno what's even out there."

Raz extended his hand. "Wanna find out?"

Cali stared, biting his lip. "You're sure...?" he asked. "You're sure it's okay for me to leave?"

"Of course I'm sure. Let's get out of here, Cali."

After a moment, Cali finally took his hand.

Smiling, Raz led the kid over to the window, looking up at it. "Okay, you're taller than me. If you're okay with using levitation, I think you can get up there first, then pull me up."

"All right..." Cali stepped up beneath the window, then leaped, landing on a levitation ball beneath him. His balance was shaky, but he managed to use the ball to bounce higher, and reached up, finally grabbing the ledge. Gritting his teeth, he managed to pull himself up with one hand, pulling the window fully open with the other. He then hoisted himself up into the window, turning around before he could get a good look outside. "Ready?" he asked, reaching down.

"Ready!" Raz hopped up onto his own levitation ball, using it to bounce himself up to grasp Cali's hand. The kid began to haul him up into the window—

And something snagged Raz's foot.

Yelping, Raz looked over his shoulder to find himself face-to-face with the second Nightmare. "Uh, Cali, I don't think you finished this one off!"

Cali struggled to pull Raz up, but the Nightmare had a firmer grip on him, multiple hands reaching up from a hole in the floor to grab Raz's feet and pull him down. The Nightmare itself, meanwhile, held up its own hand, raising the large, bloodstained bone saw.

For a terrifying moment, Raz found himself immobile, pulled between two opposite forces and unable to focus his powers. "Cali—?!"

The Nightmare swung the bone saw, and Raz shut his eyes. When nothing happened, he opened them to find the bone saw enveloped in a purple glow and shuddering. Looking up, Raz saw Cali focused on the saw, clearly pulling it with TK. After a few tense seconds he ripped it out of the Nightmare's talon, the tool now hovering in his own grip.

The Nightmare and Cali met each other’s gazes.

And the saw zipped forward, slicing directly between the Nightmare's eyes.

The hands grasping Raz's feet went slack, and the Nightmare crumbled away. Raz could only stare in shock as Cali finally heaved him up into the window. From there, the two eased themselves down, using thought bubbles to soften their descent.

They touched the ground, soft grass cushioning their feet. The hospital towered above them, but on the other side was a rolling plain, a river winding through it in the distance, and a forest somewhere beyond that. The moon and stars shone brightly overhead, and a gentle breeze stirred around them.

But the memory of the Nightmare, as well as what Cali had said and done to it, was still fresh in Raz's mind. He turned to him. "You remember, don't you," he said.

Cali looked down.

"I thought you might just be one part of Loboto's memory... but you remember what they did to you, don't you."

Cali's feet shifted. "When I saw you in the bed... I remembered what they'd done to me. And I... I didn't want that done to anyone else."

Raz hesitated. "Is that... all you remember?"

The kid gave a sad smile—one that made him look older than just a kid. "Oh, no. I remember what the older me did. I won't let that happen again, either." He gave a short laugh. "I never wanted to be that kind of doctor, like my dad, anyway."

A weight lifted from Raz's heart, and he found himself smiling again. "Great," he said, reaching up to place a hand on the kid's shoulder. "I'm glad you're not gonna hurt anyone anymore."

But Cali did not return the smile—not the same kind, anyway. "Oh... I don't remember saying that."

The air around them went cold, and Raz's hair stood on end. "...What?"

"You might have made a mistake."

The kid, who suddenly seemed a lot taller, turned to face him, a familiar gleam in his eyes. "You let me out."

Raz looked up at Cali—at Loboto—in horror, before he found himself plunged into darkness.

Chapter Text

With a gasp, Raz was back in Oleander's office. He was still sitting in the desk chair... but Loboto was no longer in the chair across from him. He was standing, the device Otto had given him rapidly unwinding itself from his body. The cables bound themselves up into a tight ball before dropping to the ground, the light in front of the device turning from green to red with a low-pitched bloop.

Loboto stared down at Raz, and Raz stared up at Loboto, raising his goggles with one hand and gripping the armrest of the chair with the other. "D-Doctor Loboto," he stammered. "Are you, um... f-feeling any better?"

The doctor's smile widened unpleasantly as he towered over Raz. "I think I'm feeling something."

Raz really, really wished he'd asked Oleander how to keep someone restrained with TK. "Is that... um... a good something, or—"

Without warning Loboto made a grasping gesture with his hand, and Raz found himself hoisted up by the collar of his turtleneck by a spindly, glowing purple hand. Loboto was wincing and his hand was shaking, and Raz was wobbling in his grip, but Loboto continued to grin. "Oh, yes, it's definitely a good something."

For the moment Raz found himself paralyzed. Yet in spite of how his heart pounded in his chest, his thoughts were oddly calm. I can't attack him. If I do, he could retaliate, and I don't know what he's capable of. Instead of fighting back, he held up his hands submissively. "Hey, you can... you can use your powers again! That's great! If you want, w-we can—"

"I have you to thank for that!" Loboto cried, lifting Raz slightly higher. "What a good boy! So nice and helpful! Such a model patient."

"P-patient—?!"

"No, how silly of me. I suppose you'd be the doctor this time around, wouldn't you?" Loboto flinched, and Raz dipped in his grasp, yelping. "Whoopsie! Still need to exercise this muscle a bit."

"Yes, you do!" Raz cried, nodding frantically. "You'll need practice and training, and we can help you—"

"Help, yes!" Loboto went on, hoisting Raz back up with his TK again. "I think I can handle the physical therapy on my own. What I need..." He leaned in closer, and in spite of his smile, his brow furrowed. "...is a discharge form."

In Raz's panicked state, it took him a moment to piece together what Loboto meant. "You—you want me to have you released?"

"Yes! Precisely." Loboto reached out with his claws, and Raz flinched away, only to feel himself patted lightly on the head. "You're going to tell your little psychic friends that I am all better, and you are going to release me."

The telekinetic grip holding Raz was shuddering, and Raz wasn't sure if it was because Loboto was struggling with it, or because he was angry. If it was the former, maybe Raz could do something, but if it was the latter, he was in trouble. Not worth the risk right now, he decided, and hesitantly met Loboto's gaze. "Okay, um... first, if you could put me down—"

"Then you agree to let me go?"

Raz managed a weak smile. "I... just think we'd be able to discuss it better when I'm not six feet off the floor."

"Oh no you don't!" Loboto growled, his face twitching. Raz couldn't tell if he was being shaken, or if Loboto's grip was just that unsteady. "I'm not releasing you until you agree to release me. Do we have an agreement?"

This is not going as well as I'd hoped, Raz thought meekly. "I... I'm not sure if—"

"Do we have an agreement?!" Loboto snarled, his eyes flashing.

Before Raz could respond, several things happened in short succession.

The door slammed open, and Loboto released Raz just in time for a large, green psychic fist to collide with the doctor and knock him flying into the wall. Raz, meanwhile, crashed onto the chair beneath him. Gasping, he looked toward the doorway to find Coach Oleander with one hand to his temple, the other held in front of him in a fist.

"Coach!" Raz cried, scrambling off the office chair. Though he was still rattled, he felt more stable when his feet touched the ground.

"I knew this weirdo was gonna cause trouble," Oleander growled before glancing at Raz. "You all right, soldier?"

"F-fine!" Raz replied, though he felt himself shaking.

"What was that?" Loboto whined, raising his head from where he'd been knocked off his feet. "I thought we had a truce...?" Upon seeing Oleander, however, he clenched his claws together. "Oh, little army man! I didn't think we'd be seeing each other again so soon."

"Shut it, Cal!" With a quick sweep of his hand, Oleander snatched Loboto with TK, holding him firmly. He then smiled at Raz. "That's how you restrain an enemy."

"I’m not an enemy—I'm a changed man!" Loboto cried, kicking out with his feet.

"He is different now, Coach Oleander," Raz said, holding up his hands. "I went into his mind—into a really deep part of it, and he told me himself he didn't want to steal brains anymore."

Oleander frowned. "That doesn't explain why he was holdin' you up in his... uh..." He blinked. "...Your psychic energy isn't purple, is it, soldier?"

"About that..." Raz rubbed the back of his helmet sheepishly. "I may have... kinda... helped him... remove the mental block for his psychic powers..."

"Psychic... powers...?" Oleander's gaze darted from Raz to Loboto several times. "You're tellin' me this guy's been a psychic all along?"

"I... may have forgotten to mention a few things I saw when I entered his mind the first time," Raz said, and wrapped his arms around himself. Already he was thinking back to the trouble he'd caused in Agent Forsythe's mind and how he hadn't told anyone until it had turned dangerous. "It... it seemed too private, and I didn't think it would come up again." Looking up, he feared the Coach might be angry, but his expression was softer than he'd expected.

"You psychics are one to talk about privacy," Loboto muttered, looking away.

At Loboto's interruption, Oleander frowned again. "You remember what I taught you about memory vaults, soldier?"

Raz thought for a moment. "You... said that the enemy isn't allowed secrets at wartime. But—"

"That applies here, too." Oleander turned his gaze back to Loboto. "Looks like we'll need to take him back to the others to sort things out. This is a bigger deal than we thought." Waving for Raz to follow, he hauled Loboto out of the office via TK.

"Uuugh, not this again!" Loboto whined as he continued to struggle in Oleander's grip. "I wanna leave!"

Initially Raz stepped toward the door before remembering something, and turned around to snatch Otto's device from the floor and put it in his bag. "Is it really that big of a deal?" he asked as he ran to catch up with Oleander. "I don't think he's very good at psychic powers."

Loboto's gaze snapped over to Raz, his brow furrowed, but he said nothing.

"Good enough to cause problems," Oleander remarked. He put a hand to his temple again, then nodded a moment later. "Otto's gonna meet with us in Truman's office."

Raz nodded, only for his stomach to give a jolt. Please don't call Sasha—

"Sasha and Milla are on their way, too."

"Aren't they kinda... busy, though?" Raz asked hesitantly. "We probably shouldn't bother them."

"They wouldn't exactly be happy if I didn't report to them," the Coach muttered.

"Right," Raz said, wrapping his arms around himself and keeping his gaze to the floor. Memories of just how angry Sasha and Milla had been with him after he'd messed things up in Agent Forsythe's mind flitted through his head, and his stomach knotted up at the thought that he would have to go through that again.

That's not a proper march, soldier, Oleander said over telepathy.

Shaking himself, Raz straightened his back and dropped his arms. Right, sorry, sir.

You all right?

Raz winced. Well... it's just... I really messed this up. He glanced at Loboto, who was staring with interest at the aquarium as they passed it. I just wanted to help him.

What, him? That guy's a bit of a wild card. Oleander shrugged. You never know what's gonna happen with him. I didn't expect him to come back with a pepper grinder for an arm when I— He faltered.

Raz glanced quickly between Loboto and Oleander, one eyebrow raised.

Oleander went on quickly: Point is, pretty sure this one isn't your fault. The guy’s unpredictable. You're not gonna hear Nein chew you out over this one, if that's what you're worried about.

Oh. Some of the tension eased from Raz's shoulders, but then he gave a jolt. Wait, how did you know about...?

The Coach didn't answer, only frowning and looking away.

Before Raz could question him again, the nearest Otto B.O.N. slammed open as they passed, and Otto himself sprang out of it, landing neatly next to Raz. "Already back with an update, eh Razputin?" he asked, eyebrows raised in interest. "How did my invention work out, by the way?"

TKing the device out of his bag, Raz held it up awkwardly. "So, about that..."

The meeting room was silent.

Raz fidgeted in his chair, looking every which way to avoid looking at Oleander, Truman, Otto, Sasha, or Milla, though he was pretty sure he could feel their gazes upon him. Loboto, who had been struggling in Oleander's grip for most of the time he'd been held, was now very still and silent. His shoulders were hunched, his lips a tight line, and his gaze was out the window and focused on the Nerve Center below. For a moment Raz considered apologizing to him, but what good would that do now?

It was Otto who finally broke the silence. "A lobotomy victim," he murmured. "Those didn't usually fare too well."

If it were possible, Loboto went even more tense. Raz finally looked up to cast a worried glance around the table, suddenly wondering if they would say something to set him off.

Otto's gaze was trained on Loboto, his brow furrowed seriously. Truman was rubbing his forehead, eyes wide as he seemed to still be processing the new information, while Oleander had lowered his head in thought. Farther down the table, Milla's gaze had gone distant, while Sasha's expression remained unreadable beneath his goggles, though he was turned slightly toward Milla. I wonder what they're talking about, Raz thought, only to give a start when Oleander spoke.

"I... heard about those being done, back in the day," he remarked, fiddling with his hands. "It's... part of why I never told my folks. But I'd never heard of it actually being done to..."

"I've not seen any records of such a thing," Sasha remarked. "To adults, certainly, especially back when psychic powers were still categorized as an illness. But to be done to a child..."

"There's no record of it," Truman echoed. "None. We had agents sent out to hospitals to gather intel on this sort of thing. Sabotages, even, whenever we caught it. But it was always adults, never children. If any records existed, they must have been destroyed or modified."

"Wouldn't shock me," Otto remarked. "Psychic prejudice or no, something like that happening to a child would've created quite the stir! They likely didn't want it known."

"Neither did I," Loboto growled through his teeth, still refusing to look up.

Raz flinched; maybe he should have apologized, but it seemed too late for it now.

"...Caligosto."

In spite of how soft her voice had been, Milla immediately drew the attention of those present in the room (except for Loboto, whose optics had not turned from the window). Her face was drawn in sympathy, and she looked as though she wanted to move closer. "We understand that you didn't want this discussed—"

"But you did it anyway," Loboto snapped, finally looking up. His gaze was aimed at Milla, whose expression did not change, while Loboto's face twisted in a furious smile. "Yes! It's a common trend for you Psychonauts. 'Sorry to dredge up your worst memories, doctor, but it's for the mission!' 'We don't mean to hurt you, but we're going to use fifty different devices on you until we get what we want.' 'We won't barge into your brain without your permission, but we're gonna keep pestering you until we get that permission.' Right?"

Raz's gaze darted uneasily between Loboto and the others. While Truman and Oleander both glared at Loboto, the latter with his fists clenched, Otto merely watched on in surprise. Sasha's mouth was drawn in a tight line, but Milla, to Raz's surprise, didn't seem upset. If anything, she was looking at the doctor with more sympathy.

"We all want what's best for you, Caligosto," she said. "We know you're hurting, and—"

The doctor let out an ugly laugh that made Raz wince, and several others at the table gave a start.

"Oh! Were you serious?" he asked, his voice edged in bitterness. "Now you give me sympathy?" Again he let out another peal of laughter. "That's rich! What do you think it'll get out of me, huh? You think you can butter me up with a bunch of lies about feeling sorry for me? Won't work, you stupid—"

Sasha stood up, and Raz could feel the glare beneath his goggles. Loboto's gaze turned to meet him, though no part of him seemed intimidated.

"Enough!" Truman cried, standing up and urging Sasha to sit. "This will get us nowhere. What's done is done—we all understand what's happened to the doctor."

Slowly Sasha took a seat, and Truman with him. The room went silent again as some of the tension eased.

Raz was the one to break the silence this time. "So... what does this mean for us? For him?"

The Grand Head of the Psychonauts looked tired, and Raz wasn't sure if that was due to the situation or just his permanent state of being. "Well... that's what we're here to discuss," he said, leaning forward. "There's no precedent for this sort of thing happening. We've dealt with those who have attempted to hide psychic powers from us, but they never get very far. But to have had psychic powers..." He gestured uncertainly. "...removed, for lack of a better term, only for them to grow back..."

"It's extraordinary!" Otto cut in. "Imagine the implications! Truman, I know you've told me no before, but—"

"I don't think they grew back," Raz said, sitting up straighter. "I think he always had them, he was just... afraid to use them."

"Afraid?!" Loboto snarled. "I'm not afraid of anything!"

"Yeah," Oleander raised an eyebrow. "Just like you weren't afraid of Nick making you face an old lady—"

A pen weakly flicked across the desk in Oleander's direction, but that in combination with the glare Loboto was giving him silenced him.

"Enough about me," Loboto went on, finally facing the others. "Let's talk about you. Mainly, let's talk about you letting me out of here!"

"Oh yeah, you've proved yourself real trustworthy on that front," Oleander grumbled.

"You're one to talk about trust, mister traitor!" Loboto shot back, and Oleander grit his teeth.

"He did say he didn't want to take anyone's brains anymore, though," Raz said, looking over to Loboto. "Right?"

"Right, yes, no more 'stealing brains' on the menu for me. I'm fully reformed and ready to leave."

Truman eyed him, leaning away from his direction. "I'm... not sure we can trust him on that one."

"But I went into his mind and everything! I talked to his inner child, the one that was still afraid of using his powers. He... he said he didn't want to be messing with brains like his father did."

To Raz's surprise, Oleander's expression softened, while Otto and Sasha exchanged glances. "The deeper parts of the brain are more reliable than the surface level," Sasha put in begrudgingly.

Otto nodded. "That's right. I don't believe there's any reason to distrust him in that regard."

Finally Loboto seemed to brighten, his gaze darting between Sasha, Otto, and Truman.

"That is good to know," Truman admitted, rubbing his forehead, and Loboto's smile almost looked genuinely happy for once. "But that says nothing about whether or not he could plan to hurt others, which he has plenty of means to do with his newfound psychic abilities."

Loboto's face fell, and he kicked the underside of the desk.

"Further investigation and treatment will be needed," Truman went on. "In addition, I'd like to see some form of psychic training for him to give him proper control of those powers."

"Training?!" Loboto wailed.

He wasn't the only one bewildered by the Grand Head's statement. Sasha and Milla were both eyeing each other in silent communication. Otto meanwhile leaned back, rubbing his chin in thought, and Oleander looked between Loboto and Truman a few times. "No offense, sir," he began, "but is it really in our best interest to get that bozo to hone his psychic powers?"

"You tell me, Agent Oleander." Truman raised a brow. "You work at the camp. You of anyone should know how much of a danger untrained psychics can be, both to themselves and others."

"...Point taken."

Looking away, Raz gripped the armrests of his chair. "Learning how to use them the right way is important, too."

"Exactly," Truman said, and Raz felt his heart lift a little. "With that settled, I believe we're in agreement?"

"No, we're not in agreement!" Loboto growled. "I didn't agree to any of this!"

Truman eyed him evenly. "If you're so eager to leave, doctor, we can have that arranged."

"Oh, good! Call me a cab, then, why don't you—"

As Truman leaned toward Loboto, the faintest smile appeared on his face. "No, I believe the police would be the ones escorting you."

Loboto's optics flashed, and he growled, kicking the table again. Half a second later, one of the pens sitting atop the table flicked in Truman's direction.

Without a hint of acknowledgement, Truman faced the rest of the table. "Now, given the strangeness of the circumstances, I believe Agent Aquato is in need of some assistance."

Jumping in his chair, Raz faced Truman anxiously. "Oh—I-I'm sorry, Grand Head Zanotto—"

"There's no need to apologize, Agent Aquato. You haven't done anything wrong. But as we've seen that this mission is a bit heavier than originally expected, I'm assigning you a senior agent to accompany you." With that, Truman's gaze turned to Oleander, who gave a jerk of surprise. "Agent Oleander, from here on out, you will be accompanying Agent Aquato on his mission."

"Wh-what?!" Oleander cried. "But sir, I have things to finish before I head back—"

"Oh, don't worry, Morry," Otto said with a laugh. "Your pet projects will be waiting for you when you return to the base."

Groaning, Oleander gave a defeated nod. "Yes, sir, I'll take care of it." He rubbed his chin in thought. “Well, guess I can’t complain too much about being sent on a mission…” Casting a glance back at Loboto, however, he frowned. “Just wish it wasn’t this one.”

Loboto huffed.

“Well, I wish I didn’t have to assign you this one either,” Truman went on, “but given you’re the only other senior agent available at the moment, I don’t have much choice in this matter. Just remember you do still need to report back to Agents Nein, Vodello, and me. Understood?”

“Yeah, I got it.”

Truman clapped his hands together. "Good. If we've no more dissenting opinions here, I think I'm good to call this meeting to a close." Glancing at a clock on the wall, he frowned. "Normally I would send you off on your mission immediately, but since timing isn't dire here, I think we could all use some rest. Agents Nein, Vodello." The two turned their attention to him. "Has your examination of Gristol Malik ruled out the possibility of psychic powers?"

"That is correct, Truman," Sasha confirmed. "We've made little progress, but that's one thing we're certain of."

"Excellent. We'll have him moved from the psychoisolation chambers and to one of the holding cells. Since we've determined Loboto can use psychic powers, he'll be held in psychoisolation for the time being instead. I don't want those two anywhere near each other again," he finished with a shudder.

"I don't think he wants that either," Raz added quietly. He glanced back at Loboto, who gave a shudder as well.

"I don't mean to butt in, but my anti-psychic restraints haven't failed anyone yet," Otto said, leaning forward. "We could certainly use a set of those and just keep him in a holding cell—"

"Yeah, if you want him driven nuts from an itch in his back by morning," Oleander grumbled, reaching back to scratch his shoulder.

"Well, can't be much worse than a padded room and a straitjacket," Loboto said, and Raz turned to give him a worried look.

"It's been a long week," Milla put in. "The psychoisolation chamber will be more comfortable, and I think Caligosto could do with a proper rest."

"We all could. Including me." Truman pushed himself away from the desk, and all but Loboto followed suit. "Agents Nein and Vodello, if you could handle the transfer of Gristol Malik, please, and that should be all for tonight."

"Of course, sir," Sasha said. With that, he and Milla stepped out of the meeting room together, heading toward the Otto B.O.N. in Truman's office.

"As for Loboto," Truman went on, turning to face Raz, "would you and Agent Oleander move him to the psychoisolation chamber, please?"

"Yes, sir!" Raz said with a determined nod, and looked over to Oleander for confirmation. The Coach sighed begrudgingly, but nodded.

"I'll accompany them to make sure there's no mishaps," Otto said with a smile. "It's not far from my lab, anyway."

"Great!" Raz grinned, still ecstatic at the prospect of getting a mission straight from the Grand Head himself. However, his face fell when he looked back at Loboto, who still sat tensely in his chair. His expression did not change when Oleander lifted him back up with TK.

"Right. I got the cargo, so let's get going." Oleander opted to hoist him over the table rather than try to navigate him around the pushed-back chairs, then had to turn the doctor on his side to get him through the door. "Tall person comin' through... Hrmf. Don't get to say that often."

"Good night," Truman called, using his own TK to straighten up the meeting room as they stepped out.

As it wasn't possible to carry someone through the Otto B.O.N. system, the group had to walk all the way to the psychoisolation chamber. It was a good thing too, Raz realized, as it meant there was less of a risk of Loboto and Gristol seeing each other during the transfer; Sasha and Milla would have Gristol out long before they got there. Heck, they would probably get him to the holding cells before Raz's group even left the Motherlobe.

"This is some mission to have dropped on you before you head back to camp," Oleander muttered to himself as they descended down into the lobby.

"It seems like a fascinating opportunity!" Otto exclaimed. "I wish I'd been assigned to the case instead, but you know mental projection's not my forte."

"What a shame," Loboto mumbled, and Raz glanced back at him. His head and his optics were drooping, the lights in them dim. He didn't seem the type to give up easily, so he chalked it up to exhaustion.

Otto either ignored the comment or didn't seem to notice. "You'll have to tell me all about it when you're done."

"Yeah, sure thing," Oleander said, rolling his eye.

As they walked, Raz’s initial excitement of being sent on another mission by the Grand Head himself began to fade, and he thought about the reality of what it entailed. Soon now they’d be entering Loboto’s head yet again… and he mulled over what he’d seen there last time. A thought struck him, and he reached out to Oleander silently: Hey, Coach, can I ask you something?

Shoot, private.

Glancing back at Loboto, Raz frowned. You remember what I said about when I talked to Loboto’s inner child… but I don’t get what happened at the end. He kinda… wasn’t Loboto’s inner child anymore. Or something?

Oleander’s brow furrowed. That’s still him, though. Your inner child’s still a part of you, unless something weird’s going on.

Raz’s heart sank. So… that was really just Loboto the whole time, pretending to be a kid?

What? No, this stuff’s a lot more complicated than that. Oleander lifted his helmet with one hand to scratch beneath it with the other. Look, soldier, I’m a drill sergeant, not a psychologist. This part of the mind’s not my forte, but… Sasha was right about what he said earlier. The inner child’s a deeper part of you, and that stuff can’t really be faked.

While that did take the weight off Raz’s heart, he still found his brow furrowing in thought. But… how did he change like that?

I mean, I wasn’t there in the trenches with you when it happened… but it sounds like the main part of him figured out what was happening and stepped in and took control there.

Oh, I guess that makes sense… Looking back at Loboto again, though, it didn’t look like any part of him was in control now, as he was nearly dozing off in Oleander’s grip. He turned back to the Coach. Thank you, sir. He paused as something else occurred to him. But how come that never happened with your— He broke off, realizing that might not be a good thing to bring up at the moment.

At first he thought the Coach might’ve caught what he was saying, as Oleander winced when they stepped outside. The moon and stars shone in the dark-blue sky above, while lights scattered throughout the quarry kept the different paths lit. Raz was worried that Oleander was upset about the mention of his own mental world until he realized what the Coach was looking at.

The psychoisolation chamber sat on the other side of the quarry, and Oleander glanced from it, to Loboto, and then to Otto. "Say, Otto, speakin' of what you were saying earlier, about things that aren't people's fortes... D'you mind carrying him from here, Otto? I'm not crossin' all that with this bozo in tow."

"Not at all!" Brightening, Otto reached out with his own telekinetic hand, which snatched Loboto the second Oleander let go, quickly enough that the doctor didn’t seem to notice, his head still bobbing as he dozed.

"Thanks. Meet you there." With that, the Coach made for the nearest Otto B.O.N., leaving Raz and Otto to bring Loboto the rest of the way themselves. The trip across the quarry would involve a lot of levitation jumps for Raz, while Otto gracefully hovered alongside him, carrying Loboto just behind.

"Oh, this should be interesting as well!" Otto said as they finally approached the massive building.

Raz released his final thought bubble and landed softly on his feet. "What should?"

Otto carefully landed next to Raz. "Given the condition of his brain and the fact that you've recently reactivated his powers," he began, and completely failed to notice the sudden frantic gestures from Raz to stop talking, "I'm curious as to how it'll react to the filtered psilirium—"

"Wh-what?!" Loboto jerked fully awake, and his mechanical eyes retracted.

"Otto—" Raz hissed urgently, but the scientist went on:

"Oh, you know, psilirium has this peculiar effect on psychics—"

"I know what it does!" Loboto cried, flailing in Otto's grip. "Let me go! You're not giving that stuff to me again! I'll give you all a root canal!"

"Doctor Loboto, hey!" Raz called softly, rushing up to the doctor's side. "Listen, it'll be okay. It's filtered psilirium—it's not the same stuff they used on you, or what you used on Truman, all right? I know it sounds scary, but you're gonna be okay."

"Who said I was scared?!" Loboto snarled, in spite of the way he trembled in Otto's grasp.

"Razputin's not wrong, hypothetically," Otto put in. "I developed the first psychoisolation chambers with Compton Boole myself, and they're perfectly safe for both regular and non-psychics." Though whether they’ll be safe for you, we’ll have yet to see, he went on in his mind, and Raz winced.

"Come on," Raz said, waving them on ahead. "That receptionist is probably driving the Coach crazy..."

Once they took the lift up, they found that to be exactly the case. Oleander was leaning against the wall opposite of the check-in desk and massaging his temple, while Terryl was leaning over her desk and toward him, somehow seeming overwhelming in spite of being several yards away. "Yes, Terryl, I get it—"

"But you know, it's always so nice to hear from the senior agents! I don't see much of them other than Boole and Forsythe—HI!" she called, waving enthusiastically at the ones who had entered. "Hi! Hii! Oh, Otto Mentallis! And that boy from the other day! And... Hackett? Did I get your name right? Did I?"

"Oh finally," Oleander said, shoulders slumping in relief as he approached them. "Took you guys long enough to get here."

"We're here on an assignment from Truman," Otto said, nodding toward Terryl.

She beamed in excitement. "That's right! Agent Oleander was just telling me about that!"

"I was trying to..."

"Yes," Raz put in, holding up a finger as he approached the desk. "We just need to put Doctor Loboto here in a chamber overnight. Can you do that?"

"Not a problem! I just need some forms filled out." With that, she heaved a weighty stack of papers onto the desk.

"Uh—"

"Oh, I'll handle this," Otto said, quickly trading Loboto off to Oleander again and approaching the desk. "You two take him up to his room and let me know what happens."

Oleander glanced from Loboto to Terryl. "Yeah, but which—"

"Oh, it'll just be room two. One still needs to get cleaned out." Terryl waved them off and turned her attention back to Otto. "So Agent Mentallis, have you got any new inventions brewing?"

"Well, I—"

"Oh I just love that mental cobweb one, haha! Though I don't think I'd ever need to use it on myself!"

Leaving Otto to his fate, Raz and Oleander sneaked over to the levitation funnel, letting the Thinkerprint run its scan before they slipped inside with Loboto. "Geez, I thought we'd never get out of there," Oleander said, heaving a sigh of relief as Raz punched the button for room two.

Once they reached their destination, Loboto frowned down at the funnel. "My old elevator was much more efficient than these..."

"Pshaw." Oleander eyed Loboto askance. "The weirdo you had running that thing only let you up."

"Exactly!"

While Oleander and Loboto bickered, Raz approached the psychoisolation room before them, staring through the transparent walls. Unlike the one Compton had stayed in, which seemed cluttered and personalized, this one was a lot simpler. At one end sat a desk and a chair with paper and pens, and opposite of that was a twin bed. Just across from the door to the chamber was a bookshelf lined with a variety of psychic-related books and what looked like a stack of out-of-date magazines. In front of that was a flower-pattern bean bag chair. "Huh, looks cozy," Raz remarked.

"Could use a dentist chair and a... sink..." Loboto trailed off, his gaze drifting up above the chamber, then below it.

"What's eatin' you?" Oleander asked, raising an eyebrow. Both he and Raz followed the doctor's gaze, seeing the clusters of yellow psychoreactive crystals above and below the chamber. "What, scared of a little psilirium? You sure weren't before, back at the Rhombus."

"I'm not scared!" Loboto snarled, head snapping over in the Coach's direction. "Just not impressed with its lack of basic dental facilities!"

He didn't have his psychic powers before, Raz said telepathically. Also I... I think they used it on him when they... um... operated.

Oleander's mocking attitude quickly faded. Oh.

"I told you before, it'll be okay, Loboto," Raz said, giving what he hoped looked like an encouraging smile. "This stuff won't hurt you."

"I'm sure!" Loboto cried, kicking his feet in the air. Oleander had to hold him further away to avoid getting kicked in the face. "Just like what that green man put me through!"

"Eh, Nein's got some questionable methods," Oleander countered, "but Razputin's right. These psychoisolation chambers are fine, if a bit dull. I committed myself in one of these for a few hours once."

"Wait, really?" Raz turned to look at the Coach, brows raised.

"Vodello convinced me to try meditating in one once. I uh... fell asleep." Oleander scratched the back of his head. "Feels weird bein' in 'em, since you can't use your powers, but it's peaceful enough, I guess. Anyway, let's get you in here and go home."

Before Raz could ask how to get into the chamber, Oleander approached the door and placed a hand to his temple. Something within the door gave a quiet bleep, and it swung open. "All right, tall guy," he said, pulling Loboto feet-first into the short tunnel leading up to the door. "In you g—"

Loboto braced his feet against either side of the doorway.

"Oh come on!"

"No!" Loboto cried. His legs strained as Oleander tried to pull him into the chamber via telekinesis. "I'm not going in there! I've had enough!"

Oleander grit his teeth, only for his mouth to quirk in a strained smile. "All right, fine, have it your way." With that, he eased Loboto backwards out of the entryway... only to spin him around to attempt to shove him through the door headfirst.

Loboto kicked him square in the head, sending his helmet flying.

"AGH!"

"You know the orderlies did eventually give up trying to keep me in solitary," Loboto said matter-of-factly while Oleander rubbed his head. "I can keep this up far longer than you can!"

"You oversized toothpick! I'm gonna—"

"Coach, stop!" Raz got between the two of them, for all the good it would do. He took a quick glance back at Loboto to make sure he wouldn’t kick him in the head as well. "I don't think this is helping."

Oleander raised a brow at him as he reached down to pick up his helmet. "You got any better ideas, soldier?"

Biting his lip, Raz turned around to face the doctor. "...Doctor Loboto," he said slowly, "I know you don't have a lot of reasons to trust us. I know it... hasn't been fun for you here."

"Not for any of us, either," Oleander muttered.

"To say the least!" Loboto shot back.

Raz ignored the comments. "But... can you at least trust me?"

The request caught Loboto off-guard. His optics flicked from Raz, to Oleander, and back, and he let out an uncertain grumble before looking away.

Hesitantly Raz reached out, and took Loboto's hand.

The doctor gave a body-wide jerk, swinging his head over to glare down at Raz. He struggled to pull his hand away (not an easy task with his arms pinned to his side), but stopped. Slowly his gaze turned to his hand, then back to Raz, who kept a firm but gentle grip. The lights in his eyes flicked once in a blink.

"Please," Raz urged. "Just this once."

Loboto looked down at the floor, and remained silent.

Look, soldier, I don't think this is gonna work, Oleander said over telepathy, and Raz lowered his head. Give me a minute and I'll call for backup—

"Okay."

Wait what—

Raz's head snapped back up to find Loboto was looking at him again. "You—?"

"I said okay!" Loboto snapped. "You need a signed form or something?"

"I—no! No, that's fine!" Glancing back at Oleander, Raz found him just as surprised. "I guess, uh..." Strangely, he found himself smiling up at the doctor. "...Thanks."

Loboto's eyes flicked over to his right. "Hurry up before I change my mind."

"Welp, you heard the man," Oleander said, preparing to move him via TK again, but Raz held up a hand. "Huh?"

"No, Coach... Could you let him go?"

"Are you kidding me?!" the Coach cried. He looked down at Raz, who maintained eye contact with him, and sighed. "All right..." He heaved a sigh, then pointed a threatening finger at Loboto. "If you try anything funny, I'll send you sailing into the wall like I did earlier."

"That won't be easy for me. I have quite the sense of humor, you know!"

"Rrgh..."

Slowly Oleander lowered Loboto until his feet touched the ground, and released him from his telekinetic grip. Raz, meanwhile, kept hold of his hand.

"Ready?" Raz asked, giving him a gentle tug toward the entryway.

"Not really, but it's not like you give me much of a choice." Loboto's brow furrowed, but he hesitantly allowed Raz to lead him toward the psychoisolation room. He had to duck to get through the entryway, and stopped just before the door. His breathing had quickened.

Raz squeezed his hand, and led him into the chamber.

The world fell silent.

Raz let out a gasp, and Loboto started as well, looking around the chamber and down at himself. But no, he could hear the sound of his own breathing and the tapping of Loboto’s boots against the floor. He hadn't lost his hearing—he'd lost his sixth sense.

He hadn't realized how many voices he'd learned to tune out until they were suddenly gone.

Otherwise, though, he felt fine—like he could still run and jump his way through the quarry, albeit without levitation. He shook his head. "Sorry, that just startled me, is all. How are you feeling, Doctor Loboto?"

"Uh... okay..." He gingerly brought his claw up to his shower cap. "I think...?"

"It does feel a little weird at first, but... see? We're both fine!"

"I suppose so." Loboto looked down, saw Raz was still holding his hand, and roughly yanked it away. "Enough of that!"

"Right, sorry." With that, Raz backed away toward the door. "Well... goodnight, Doctor Loboto."

Loboto looked away, muttering something that may have been "goodnight” before his optics turned back to focus on him intently. He took a step toward him, looking like he was about to reach out with his prosthetic.

"Uh... See you tomorr—woah!"

Raz was yanked backward out of the chamber, and the door slammed behind him. All at once his psychic senses came back, leaving his head swimming, and he was pretty sure he briefly saw figments. When his vision returned to normal, he found the Coach glaring through the slot in the door. "Hey," Raz protested, "what was that—"

Oleander whipped back around to face him, his face red. "What were you doing, Raz?!" he hissed, and Raz took a step back in surprise. After casting a quick glance back at the chamber behind him, the Coach hurried out of the entryway tunnel.

Brow furrowed, Raz followed him out. "I was getting him into the chamber! What do you think I—"

"You got the both of you into that chamber!" Oleander whispered harshly, pointing an accusing finger in Raz's face. Before Raz could protest, he went on, "He doesn't have his psychic powers in there, but neither do you! Who do you think's gonna win in a fight between you and a nine-foot-tall criminal, huh?"

Raz felt the blood drain from his face as he envisioned the claw that had reached toward him, and his stomach fell. "Oh... oh, man, I didn't even think..."

"I told you, he's unpredictable! You could've—!" Oleander cut himself off, and sighed, the proper color finally returning to his face. He dragged his hand over it.

Raz's gaze drifted to the floor. "Sorry, Coach," he said, his voice catching.

"Ugh. I'm sorry too, soldier. You just... scared me for a minute there." Looking back up, Raz found Oleander eyeing Loboto through the transparent walls. "Y’know, there's a reason I..." He trailed off.

"...A reason you what, sir?" Raz asked, swallowing.

The Coach gave a start. "Nothing, it's... nothing. C'mon, let's get you out of here."

Raz followed Oleander back to the levitation funnel, but looked back into the chamber just before they descended.

Loboto stared back, red-and-green eyes piercing into his own.

Raz wrapped his arms around himself as he hopped out of the Otto B.O.N. He'd parted ways with Oleander and Otto, but the Coach's words were still ringing in his head.

He knew Loboto was unpredictable. Even before Oleander had said it, he'd known. He'd seen what had happened in the Rhombus, when Loboto had gone from freeing everyone one moment to blowing up the place the next. And even hours ago, he'd just been helping Loboto's inner child, only for the doctor to use his newfound psychic abilities against him. Raz had his own psychic powers though, too, and if worse came to worst, he probably could've held his own against Loboto. But... in the psychoisolation chamber...

Who do you think's gonna win in a fight between you and a nine-foot-tall criminal, huh?

Loboto wouldn't... really hurt him now, would he? After all that had happened?

As he returned to the caravan and his mom chided him for coming home so late (but handed him the leftovers she'd set aside for him), he found his thoughts still drifting back to the mission.

No, Loboto couldn't be completely unpredictable. There had to be a reason for the way he acted.

He'd just have to find it.

Upon finishing dinner, Raz felt like he had weights tied to his limbs. He somehow managed to stumble off to bed, finally managing to relax among the familiar smells and sounds of his home, grateful to have somewhere safe to return to after a long day. But as he settled into his blankets, a thought crossed his mind:

Where did Loboto have to return to?

Chapter Text

The levitation funnel shot Raz out into the atrium, and the morning sun immediately blinded him.

"GAH!" he cried, covering his eyes with one arm as his other hand gripped a thought bubble, gently easing him to the ground. The sun had been rising as he'd made his way back to the Motherlobe that morning; he'd taken the long way rather than the Otto B.O.N. to give himself time to think. It hadn't been so bad then, but to suddenly go from the comparatively-dim lobby to this was a bit much.

When his feet touched the ground, he lifted his arm away from his face, and yelped.

Lili stood before him, arms crossed and one eyebrow raised.

"Uhh... Hi Lili!" Raz put on what he hoped was a convincing grin. "I didn't expect to see you here!"

"...Uh-huh." She cocked her head, unimpressed.

Raz realized his mistake a second later and rubbed his hand over his face. "Ughh. Sorry. A lot's been happening."

"No kidding!" To his relief, Lili's annoyance melted away as she held up her fists in excitement. "I heard you got assigned your first mission as a Junior Psychonaut!"

"Yeah!" he exclaimed, grinning. "Isn't it great?"

"It might be, if you had the right partner for it." And immediately her annoyed look was back as she shoved his arm—not hard enough to hurt, but enough to jolt him out of his excitement. "What about me? I thought we were a pretty good team in Gristol's mind! Or did you forget?"

"No, I-I didn't forget," Raz said, rubbing his arm. "It's just... your dad was the one who gave me the assignment, and you weren't around then. I figured you must've been busy, and Truman never mentioned you, so... I went by myself, and then he assigned me a partner later."

"I wasn't that busy. I was just out visiting Uncle Bob and Uncle Helmut." Lili shrugged. "It's nice getting to talk to them... but I didn't want to miss out on this!"

"I'm sorry, Lili. I would've wanted you as my partner too, but Truman wanted a senior agent with me." Raz glanced about the atrium as he spoke, spotting one agent glancing at their watch, and a subconscious mind-read told him it was nearly 9 AM—the time he and Oleander had agreed to meet. Waving his hand toward Lili, he began making his way to the agent wing.

"Ugh, Dad..." Rolling her eyes, Lili followed after him. "I'm technically allowed on missions, but he never lets me!"

"Really?" Raz frowned at her in sympathy. "Well, maybe we can talk with him about it later."

"We should talk with him about it now!" Without warning, she grabbed Raz by the strap of his shoulder bag and yanked him back toward the Nerve Center. "Maybe we can get him to switch your partner so I can go with you!"

"Woah—hold on a sec!" Raz cried, reaching out with a TK hand to grab the edge of the entryway to the agent wing. "I don't think you wanna join this one!"

"Why not?!" Lili exclaimed, letting him go. Not expecting the sudden absence of resistance, Raz toppled forward with an oof. "You think I'd let that dumb dentist capture me again?"

"Of course not." Pushing himself back up, Raz looked away. "I'm not worried about you, Lili. I'm worried about him."

"Oh, you don't gotta worry about him. Lemme at 'im for five seconds and he'll be nothing but a smoldering pile of—"

"That's exactly why I'd be worried about him," Raz said quietly. He glanced from Lili back to the agent wing before heading in that direction again. "I know you're mad about how he captured you, and how he captured Truman, but I don't think attacking him will help anything."

"It would help me, that's for sure," Lili grumbled.

They both stopped before the aquarium, gazing up at the fish. Raz couldn't help but be reminded of the mutant fish guards they saw back in the Rhombus, and the memory vault Loboto had of them. It was a great deal happier than his previous vault—Loboto had actually seemed to enjoy his time with the creatures, if his memory was to be trusted to that extent. But he'd sent those fish away. Did he even have anyone else left that he liked spending time with?

That he trusted?

"...I know you're mad at him, Lili," Raz finally said, looking Lili in the eye, "but we don't want to make him scared. We want him to trust us."

"Trust?!" she cried, taking a step back. "I wouldn't trust him as far as I could burn him! That guy's—"

"Unpredictable, I know." Raz sighed. "Coach Oleander thinks so too. But... everyone's got reasons for what they do, right? Even if what they do winds up being a bad idea, or hurts someone."

Lili paused, her face softening, and she glanced away. "...Yeah, I guess so."

"I'm gonna find out what's making him like... this. There's gotta be something."

"...Wait."

Raz looked back at her.

"Did you say Coach Oleander?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Don't tell me he's your partner."

"Uhh..." Raz gave a sheepish grin, shrugging. "Okay, I won't tell you!"

"Ugh!" She shoved him again, this time with a grin. "You know that wasn't what I meant."

Raz snickered. "Yeah? How do you know I knew that?" he asked, resuming his trek through the agent wing.

Because you can read minds, dummy, Lili thought, eyeing him with a raised eyebrow. They passed smaller offices as they headed toward Oleander's closet-turned-office. "But really, you're sure I can't go with you?"

"I'm sure, Zanotto!" came a voice from just behind them. They whirled around to find Oleander marching toward his office. Under his arm was a thick folder, some of the papers within nearly falling out. "Step aside, soldier, I was here first!"

"And what if I don't want to?" Lili retorted, standing directly in front of the door and crossing her arms. "My dad's your boss."

"Rrrgh...!"

"C'mon, Lili," Raz urged, placing a hand on her shoulder. "We'll talk to your dad about teaming up some other time."

"Ugh... fine." Reluctantly Lili stepped away from the door, only to whirl back around on Raz. "But if that creepy dentist tries anything, I will make him burn!"

"Can't blame ya there," Oleander said, eyeing Lili as she stepped away. Once she was further down the hallway, he turned to Raz. "You ready, soldier?"

Raz glanced around warily, then looked at the office door. "Loboto isn't here yet, is he...?"

"No, Otto's carting him over here. Why, you getting cold feet over this?"

"No, I just wanted to talk with you first." Raz looked Oleander in his good eye. "I was thinking about what I've seen in Loboto's mind so far. I've been in there three times now, and I've seen a lot about when he was a kid—" he held his left hand out to the side "—and we both saw all that stuff when we were trying to find out about the mole." And he held out his right hand off to the other side.

"Right." Oleander nodded. "What's your point?"

"Well, we haven't really seen much about..." Raz brought his hands slightly closer together, holding them up to indicate a gap. "...what his life was like between those two times."

Oleander winced. "Oh. Well... that's something I can share some intel on." After pulling a key out of his pocket, he unlocked his office door and stepped in, flipping on the light switch.

Raz followed him in, watching with raised eyebrows as the coach tossed the folder onto his desk. It sprung open on impact, a mountain of papers spreading over the desk and a couple drifting to the floor. Stooping down, Raz picked up one and looked it over, squinting to read the poorly-scanned newsprint. "Unlicensed Dentist Arrested in—redacted?—County." He didn't need to read the rest of the article to know what that was about, and so he picked up the other paper, giving a start at the mugshot staring back at him. It looked like one of the figments he'd picked up in Loboto's mind a few days ago, but this one still had both hands for some reason. Weird. "Criminal Record... Name: Loboto, Caligosto. Alias: 'Doctor Loboto'..." He skimmed past some of the details. "Charge and description: practicing dentistry without a license, breaking and entering, brain theft, kidnapping, assault—?!" Mind reeling, he held the papers away from his face.

"Yeah, that's just the tip of the iceberg." Oleander had heaved himself up into his chair and was looking over the contents of the folder. "If you wanna know what he did for most of his life, well... this is it. He worked for tons of criminals, and lots of 'em were enemies of ours. Plenty of small-time criminals here, but he's even worked for ones like the Noodler before."

"Man..." Raz placed the sheets back on the desk and stared up at the massive pile. "You must've been up all night going through this."

Oleander sat up straight, quickly stacking the papers back together. "Well, uh—!" Giving Raz a nervous grin, he held the folder shut. "Not really! The Psychonauts keep all their paperwork pretty organized, so—" He pulled his hand away, and the folder sprung open again, papers flying everywhere.

"Uhhh..." Raz pointed at one stray sheet that was floating gently to the ground. "That doesn't look too organized to me."

"...All right, fine. I already knew a lot about him 'cuz I'd done some of my own research a while back," Oleander grumbled, glaring down at the papers. "Don't think I gotta remind you why."

"Oh. Right..." Raz scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, only to jump in realization. "Hey! But that means you know him pretty well, right? Shouldn't that help us?"

Oleander rubbed his hand over his face. "Not as much as you'd think. Come on, soldier, you know as well as I do that knowin' a person here—" he jabbed a finger on his desk "—ain't the same as knowin' them in their mind." He tapped his finger against his helmet. "And even seeing their mind one time doesn't guarantee anything."

Raz opened his mouth, nearly asking him how he knew that, only to close it when he remembered their own experiences at Whispering Rock—particularly, Raz's experiences in the Coach's own mind. Even so, he couldn't help but argue: "Well... it's better than nothing, right?"

"Normally I'd say you're right, but..." Bending over the stack of papers again, Oleander rifled through them and pulled out another crime report. "Seeing all this stuff isn't inspiring a lot of hope in me."

"But..." Raz shifted uncomfortably where he stood. "You lent me your Psycho-Portal, didn't you?"

Oleander flinched. "Ugh, yeah, I did. I was hoping you would've been able to get through to him, like you did with... uhh... other people."

"I did get through to him!" Raz snapped, stomping his foot. "I got his moral compass back!"

"Yeah, and a lot of good that did him! Blowin' up the base nearly with us still in it, stowing away on the jet, attacking you in this very room?" Oleander stared pointedly at the far wall that Loboto had crashed into yesterday, then back at Raz.

Wincing, Raz wrapped his arms around himself. "Well.... I tried..."

Oleander softened. "You got us outta there alive, and that's the important thing. Heh. Don't mean to take that victory away from you, soldier." But he looked back down at the papers again, sighing. "Thing is, you've already gone into his head three times now, and he still wants to cause trouble. And with all this stuff he's already done... I dunno how much of a chance we have of getting through to 'im."

Frowning, Raz stood on his toes to look at some of the reports scattered on the desk. Words like abduction and robbery and even torture jumped out at him, making him feel sick, but another word crossed his mind.

"...My Nona was a murderer," he said, his voice quiet, the last word spoken quickly.

Oleander looked up suddenly, but not at Raz, his gaze distant.

Immediately Raz wished he hadn't said it; the fact was still raw and awful, painful and exposed like an open wound. It felt unreal, even though he'd seen the memories and opened the vault himself. Apparently Oleander didn't like hearing it either, if the color draining from his face was anything to go by. But he couldn't take the words back, so he forced himself to press on: "What she did was..." He swallowed. "But... she isn't like that anymore. She won't be. And... if she can get better... maybe Loboto can, too."

Tension hung in the air; the fluorescent light overhead was the only sound, its deafening buzz nearly drowning out Raz's thoughts.

"...No, no, you're right." A green TK hand scooped the papers that had scattered on the floor, setting them into the open folder again and stacking them up while Oleander rubbed his good eye.

Raz let out a breath, dropping his shoulders.

Suddenly Oleander whirled back on him. "But that's still a pretty big maybe for that guy!" he cried, pointing at Raz. "You haven't seen everything he's capable of." Turning back to the papers on the desk, he began sorting through them and setting some of them in a separate pile.

"Well, I saw those reports. And he also had me strapped to a chair, and was planning to steal my brain..." Feeling the sensation of the restraints against his arms, he rubbed his left wrist anxiously. "But... are you telling me there's more?"

Oleander went quiet, biting his lip and looking away.

Now curious, Raz moved a few inches closer. "Coach, what did you see?"

"Doesn't matter! We'll see whatever we see when we get into his mind," Oleander blurted, scooping up the papers he'd set aside. After hopping off the chair, he pressed his fingers to his temple, then nodded. "Otto's nearly here. Had a heck of a time getting him out of the psychoisolation chamber, apparently."

"Right," Raz said. He couldn't help but wonder just what the Coach was hiding from him now, but Oleander wasn't wrong—they'd probably encounter it later. Seeing the Coach heading for the door, however, he blinked. "Wait, why are we leaving?"

"We're not continuing with the mission here," Oleander said, glancing back at Raz. "I took up Agent Vodello's offer to borrow her office."

Raz perked up, grinning. "Great! Her office is comfy."

"That's the idea," Oleander went on, opening the door so Raz could step out. He shut off the light and followed him out, closing and locking the door behind him. "A more comfortable room may make him lower his guard, and it'll make the examination go a lot easier."

"I hope so." Raz thought back to yesterday and shook his head. "It took forever to get him to cooperate."

"I can imagine."

As the doors to Milla's office opened, they heard a familiar shouting down the hall behind them. Turning, they found Otto striding in their direction, Loboto in his telekinetic grip. This time Loboto was sporting a set of pink-and-blue anti-psychic restraints—one wrapped tightly around his arms and midsection, one around his ankles, and the helmet pressed down over his showercap. Loboto was kicking and growling, trying desperately to pull away from Otto, who appeared unbothered.

"Let me go!" Loboto wailed. "I'm not getting my brain poked at again!"

"There's no poking involved," Otto said calmly. Raz nearly put in that they'd just be using a Psycho-Portal, as before, when Otto went on, "I don't like to get my hands dirty if I can avoid it."

"Ugh, not this again, Mentallis," Oleander grumbled. "Truman said no."

"He said no yesterday," Otto said, smiling as he TK'd a few papers off to his side. "But that was before I wrote my proposal! I believe analyzing this individual's brain could yield very interesting data—"

"Iiiiii think that can be discussed later," Raz said, noting Loboto's terrified look. "We'll take him from here, Agent Mentallis!"

"Right. We have a mission to take care of!" Oleander said, extending a green telekinetic hand toward Loboto. "C'mon, hand 'im over."

"Very well," Otto said, passing Loboto over to Oleander. "I won't need him around to talk things over with Truman anyway. But don't forget this!" He reached into his pocket and tossed a key toward Raz, who caught it with TK and pulled it in for a closer look—it was silver and had a piece of psitanium embedded into it. "It's the key for those restraints."

"Got it. Thanks, Agent Mentallis!"

"Good luck, Razputin!" With that, Otto stepped away, heading for Sasha's lab, likely to make use of the closest Otto B.O.N.

With him gone, Loboto gave an exaggerated shudder. "Ugh. Good riddance! I've never seen a man so obsessed with brains."

Raz and Oleander exchanged glances before stepping into the office. The sun was gleaming through the giant windows, bathing the colorful room in warm light, particularly the circular platform in the center of the office. No artificial lights were on, which was a welcome change from the constant fluorescent hum in Oleander’s office.

"Oh!" Loboto's mechanical eyes whirred as they adjusted to the change in light. "This is different."

"Yeah! Milla's office should be a lot more comfortable than Oleander's," Raz said. With a few jumps, he was up on the giant, cushioned platform in the center of the office.

Meanwhile, Oleander looked up at the platform with a frown. "Though not made with a lot of consideration for people who... might not be as proficient in levitation," he grumbled, rubbing his chin.

"I wouldn't need psychic abilities to get up there." Loboto's optics swiveled from the platform and down to the floor, taking in the height. He kicked his feet, which were still locked together by the anti-psychic restraints. "Just get this thing off me and I can get up on my own, and you won't have to expend your precious psychic energy hoisting me up!"

"Yeah, not falling for that one," Oleander replied flatly. "Up you go!" With that, he tossed Loboto unceremoniously up onto the platform, where the dentist landed face-first, growling into the cushion.

"Coach!" Raz shot an accusatory glare at Oleander, but he was busy pulling himself up. He turned his attention to Loboto, nearly grabbing him by the shoulders to help him up, only to remember the doctor's negative reactions to touch. Instead he TK'd a nearby pillow over to Loboto's side, then used TK to gently pull him up into a seated position on the pillow. The length of his legs and the anti-psychic shackles on them made it a bit difficult, but fortunately Loboto managed to pull his legs beneath himself so he could sit on his knees. "Sorry about that."

Loboto's optics zoomed in and out a few times, flicking on and off as they readjusted themselves. "Oh, no worries at all," he said, mouth twisting. "I've come to expect this treatment from your kind."

There was a grunt as Oleander finally heaved himself up onto the platform to join them. "Yeah, and that's your kind too, bozo."

Coach, knock it off! Raz said over telepathy. We're supposed to help Loboto, not make him angrier! This was exactly why he hadn't wanted Lili to come along, but he hadn't expected Oleander to be this bad, too.

Right, sorry... Oleander replied, frowning as he flipped through the papers he'd taken from his office.

"I think what the Coach means to say is..." Raz looked back at Loboto, who was glaring daggers at Oleander. "People aren't bad just because they're psychic. We can do bad things or make mistakes, but it's not because we're psychic. Being psychic doesn't make you a bad person, Doctor Loboto."

"But being a criminal might," Oleander added, and Raz groaned internally.

"Oh, you're one to talk, mister I-want-to-take-over-the-world-with-psychic-death-tanks!" Loboto went on in a sing-song voice.

Don't, Raz thought to Oleander, whose face was turning red. We gotta stick to the mission, remember?

At the word "mission," Oleander closed his eyes. A moment later his face returned to its normal color, and he opened his eyes again to look back at Loboto, expression more determined now than angry. "Okay, but we ain't here to talk about me. We're here to talk about you."

"Honestly I've gotten rather tired of that." Loboto's optics turned to glance about the room casually. "All this talk of me, me, me. I don't blame you for being fascinated with me, but there's plenty else I'd rather talk about."

"How about a guy with the name Kendal Smart?" Oleander put in. When Loboto gave a jerk of surprise, the Coach grinned. A quick clairvoyance told Raz that the name came from one of the papers Oleander had grabbed. "Ring a bell?"

Loboto had gone quiet, his smug expression fading. After a moment, his smile twisted bitterly. "Ah. Not a name very befitting of him!" he replied, snickering.

"So you know him?" Raz scooted forward.

"Hardly! We did business exactly once, and we both decided that was quite enough." Loboto's gaze flicked from Raz to Oleander as he raised a brow. "If you're looking to go after him, you're about a decade too late! He was arrested years ago. Serves him right."

"Yeah, but we're not interested in that." Oleander gave him a look. "We're interested in your relationship with him."

"There was no relationship!" Loboto snapped. "I told you! He wasn't satisfied with my care for his patient, and that's all there was to it."

"Care for his patient...?" Raz murmured. Given it was a criminal they were discussing, he was pretty sure "patient" didn't refer to someone coming in for dental treatment...

Oleander leaned forward, flipping through a few of the papers as he spoke. "What about Dante Wheeler? Findlay Wilcox? Harper—"

"No! No, no, no," Loboto snarled, scooting himself backward. He nearly tipped backwards off the platform, but Raz quickly psi-poked him back into place. "Doctor-patient confidentiality!"

"Uhhh... I don't think any of it's really confidential anymore," Raz said. He TK'd one of Oleander's papers over, then held it out for Loboto to see. "We already have records of all this stuff."

"Then what are you bothering me for? Nasty nosy nonsensical—"

"We don't want to know what's on the records." Raz pulled the paper away, setting it at his side. "We want to know... what they're not telling us."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means a lot happened to you between that surgery and Thorney Towers," Oleander said, setting the papers down at his side. "And we wanna know what."

Loboto's optics were swiveling every which way to avoid Raz and Oleander's gazes. "Nghhh...! I told you, I'm done talking about myself! Done!"

"You don't gotta say anything more," Oleander put in, and gave Raz a look.

Nodding, Raz TK'd his borrowed Psycho-Portal out of his bag. "We can take a look, ourselves... if that's okay with you, Doctor Loboto."

"It's not!" Loboto snapped, eyes flashing. His claws clashed together repeatedly with a grating tic tic tic noise as he shook his head. "I don't agree to any of this! I didn't agree to being tied up and hauled into this stupid place, or for you silly psychics to go frolic around in my head! I want to leave!"

"This'll be the last time!" Raz blurted out, holding out his hands.

Oleander shot him a glare. What are you doing, soldier?!

Loboto stilled, and his gaze snapped back to Raz. "What?"

"I promise, this will be the last time we have to jump into your head." Raz scooted closer, looking Loboto in the eyes. "I know you're tired of all of this, and I don't like making you uncomfortable... but we have to do this just one more time in order to help you."

It was agonizingly hard to tell if Loboto was angry or not with that permanent grin. After what felt like too long, he looked away, heaving a frustrated sigh. "Who says I wanted help, anyway?"

"So you're saying you don't?"

Loboto gave a jerk, his lips forming a tight line, and he remained silent.

"...Well," Oleander put in, shrugging, "he's not saying he doesn't."

The doctor's voice was strained as he replied: "I didn't say anything." But he wilted where he sat, head dipping. "Fine, fine. Go ahead," he muttered. His optics flicked over to Raz. "But this is the last time."

Raz looked at him, gulping. "Right... last time." Holding up the Psycho-Portal, he nodded over to Oleander, who nodded back, before setting the portal over Loboto's helmet. When the door opened, he pulled his goggles over his eyes.

As he felt his astral projection being pulled into the portal, he found himself thinking, Last time's the charm... I hope.

Chapter Text

[ID: A Psychonauts fanfic banner. The background is dark blue water. On the left side is a small black goldfish, its tail swooped to the right side as it looks up at the viewer with a frightened expression. It appears to have, at first glance, large mismatched eyes, one slightly green and one slightly red, but they are actually mechanical attachments of some sort. Superimposed over the fish is a transparent reflection of adult!Loboto, wearing red and green glasses (reversed, as the image is mirrored) instead of his loupes we usually see him with, and a black skull cap instead of his usual shower cap. The fish’s head is roughly in the center of the reflection of Loboto’s red eyeglass lens. On the right side of the banner is text written in white: “Chapter 6: Unforgiving Underworld Part 1.” /end ID]

The sunlit office faded, taking its warmth with it.

Raz's whole body jerked as though he'd been dropped onto the cold sidewalk he now stood upon. A chilly wind whipped around him, its damp gusts finding their way through his sleeves and open jacket, and he wrapped his arms around himself, shivering. "Ugh. Coach, are you there?"

"Present," Oleander responded, and Raz turned around to find him standing a short distance off. He was looking up at their surroundings, and Raz followed his gaze.

All around them loomed impossibly tall buildings, immediately bringing Lungfishopolis to mind. But Raz and Coach weren't giant, and it wasn't nighttime here; no lights gleamed from the foggy windows, and the overcast sky left the ground shadowless. The heavy atmosphere threatened rain, but it never broke. Police sirens wailed in the distance, but never seemed to get closer. Motors hummed as a driverless car occasionally rumbled down the street, tires splashing through shallow puddles. When Raz watched one of the vehicles, he noticed that the direction it was driving in led to a much brighter part of town. The sun was shining in the distance, and he could faintly hear the voices of people happily going about their day.

Eyebrows rising, he headed down the sidewalk in that direction, only to find himself stopped by traffic cones and caution tape; the sidewalk past that was completely gone, a bottomless pit taking its place. With a frown, he stepped out onto the street to move around the ruined sidewalk, only for a car to come zooming in his direction.

"Yikes!" Raz cried, staggering back before it hit him. Once the car was gone, he stepped out into the street again, only for yet another vehicle to appear out of nowhere, tires screeching as it sped down the street. This time Raz stepped back, but also fired a time bubble at the car. To his disappointment, the bubble fizzled out before it could slow the car down.

"Hm!" Oleander rubbed his chin as he stared at the street. "Looks like this area's off-limits for us."

"Looks like it." Raz sighed, staring longingly at the brighter side of the city before turning his back to it. Before them lay the rest of the city, shadowless and gray and damp. He tugged his jacket tighter around himself. "This looks cheery."

"Yeah, that's... putting it mildly." Oleander huffed before striding past Raz. "Well, forward march! Let's scout out the place."

"Yes, sir!" Raz responded, hurrying to Oleander's side.

Further down the sidewalk, Raz could see dull figments scattered here and there, some of them moving back and forth. One that leaned against a building was a man in a hat and a trench coat, its collar pulled up to hide his face. One of the moving ones was a woman hurrying down the sidewalk, holding her purse close. Another figment showed a child, looking lost and scared.

The last one made Raz pause, his mind yanking him back to a time when he was much smaller, just before Queepie was born. His family's caravan had briefly stopped in a big city like this, and everyone had split up into groups to put up posters advertising their show. He'd been paired with Dion, but his older brother had constantly nagged him for being too slow. At one point Raz had just finished putting up a poster, only to find Dion wasn't there. When he couldn't find him, he decided he'd just set up the rest of the posters on his own, and set out to do just that. But as he had set up the last poster, he realized that the buildings around him looked a lot less friendly... and so did the people. In fact, one person had grabbed him by the arm, but before they could say anything, a rock had come flying at them and knocked the person in the head. The next thing Raz knew, Frazie had grabbed his hand, and they were both running back to the caravan.

At the time he had brushed the experience off as being just another weird part of traveling, but he still remembered his parents saying something about... about...

"Hey... Coach?" Raz waited for Oleander to stop before turning to face him. "Is this the 'bad side of town'?"

Oleander cast another glance around them and frowned. "Looks like it."

"Why is this in Loboto's mind?" Looking back at the frightened child figment, Raz reached out to touch it, and felt a hint of psychic power rush through him as he absorbed it. "Do you think he got lost here?"

Eyebrows furrowing, Oleander looked away. "Guess you could say that. He's definitely not around here, anyway," he remarked, looking about the street disapprovingly.

That was true—they'd been here for several minutes and had yet to run into Loboto. Back when Raz had dived into his mind at the Rhombus, he'd seen him as the First Mate immediately, and later when Sasha had implanted the construct in his mind on the plane, Loboto had been there right at the start. And then yesterday, it hadn't taken Raz long to hear Loboto's voice in the cardboard diorama, or see him as a kid in the hospital... so where was he now?

"Let's keep moving," Raz suggested. "We've gotta run into him eventually."

The two moved on, their feet occasionally splashing through shallow puddles on the damp sidewalk. Something moved out of a narrow alleyway up ahead, and for a split second Raz's heart jumped, only to fall when he heard the telltale no! of Censors. Five of them were charging in their direction, wearing little blue police uniforms and waving their stamps threateningly.

Immediately he and the Coach dropped into psychic stances. Raz fired a psi-blast at one and watched in satisfaction as it ricocheted off two more, taking them down instantly. Oleander, meanwhile, swung a psi-punch at one Censor, which crashed into the remaining one behind it, and both fizzled out of existence.

"Good to know he's still sane," Oleander said, only to pause. "Relatively, anyway."

But Raz was more focused on the alley the Censors had come from. "Wonder what they didn't want us to see." Frowning, he slipped into the alleyway, and Oleander followed. There were no lights here, and only the narrowest sliver of gray light came from the entrance and the sky above. He wondered if this place would be blocked off someplace further in, too, but it extended onward with no sign of the other side. There was the occasional figment of a rat or cockroach, but otherwise, the path ahead seemed devoid of anything. At one point, Raz turned around to find the entrance to the alleyway a long distance off.

Oleander followed his gaze. "This is ridiculous! Where the heck is—"

"Caligosto?!" came a hushed whisper from immediately behind them.

Heart jumping into his throat, Raz spun around to find a young man standing behind him as though he'd always been there. The man, who couldn't have been older than twenty, stood taller than both Raz and Coach (not that that was particularly difficult), though he was hunched in on himself, tugging his dark red letterman jacket emblazoned with a large "S" closer. He had faint sea green skin and messy orange hair, large bags under his eyes, and his face was pale and shiny with sweat.

On top of that, the other end of the alleyway, in spite of being nowhere in sight moments ago, was now a short distance behind him.

"Where have you been, man?!" the young man hissed. He cast a terrified glance over his shoulder.

"I... think you've got the wrong person," Raz said, taking a step back and feeling Oleander's hand on his shoulder. "I'm not—"

"Geez, this—this isn't the time for this, they're gonna find us any second—!"

"Who's 'they'?" Oleander asked, eyes narrowed. "And who're you, for that matter?"

The man staggered back, rubbing a hand over his face with a strained sound of exasperation. "Knock it off!" he cried, and, for some reason, turned back to Raz. "I need you to get rid of this stuff!"

Something occurred to Raz, and he used a quick clairvoyance on the mental figure. As he suspected, the man was seeing him as someone else: specifically, as a person who looked similar to First Mate Loboto. He didn't appear to see Oleander at all, which might mean that he was seeing both Raz and Oleander as one person.

"Ah!" Raz exclaimed, standing up a bit taller and trying to make his voice sound more nasally and lilting. "I'm sorry, I seem to have lost track of things! Can you remind me what 'this' is?"

"The money, Caligosto!" the man whispered harshly. Reaching into his jacket, he pulled out several enormous stacks of bills, which he proceeded to chuck clumsily at Raz and Oleander. If he noticed they caught the bills with TK, he didn't seem to care. "Go hide it! And remember, I get half!" With that, the man spun around and charged back out of the alley.

Within moments, there was a screech of tires, followed by the sound of shouting, which was then followed up by a series of nos, punctuated with a louder, much deeper NO.

Oleander glanced from the money to the end of the alleyway and back. "Uhh... this won't look good."

"Oh man, it sounds like Loboto's friend is in trouble!" Raz exclaimed. "C'mon, Coach, we've gotta—"

He looked back at the Coach, only to find him fleeing in the direction they'd come from. Groaning, Raz followed, looking over at the stacks of money he held in TK. "Man, this is bad... They're probably gonna expect us this way, too." While a few Censors weren't so bad on their own, fighting a swarm of them on top of a Heavy Censor in an alley where he would barely have any room to dodge would be bad news. Even with Coach at his side, they didn't have enough room to fight together.

The chorus of nos behind him grew closer, and Raz winced. I wish I knew where to find a place we can hide...! he thought frantically.

As though in response, a few stray thoughts appeared just ahead of Raz, leading up to a fire escape. Perking up, Raz whistled to Oleander and waved him closer.

Oleander spun around with a glare. "Pipe down, we've gotta—" He paused upon seeing the stray thoughts, and nodded. "Right. Good work, soldier!"

Raz went first, launching himself into the lowest thought and jumping higher and higher until he was able to reach the fire escape. Once his feet connected with the rickety metal, he turned around, and was surprised to find Oleander using what appeared to be a green psychic-energy grappling hook to grab onto one thought before the whole thing shifted into the shape of a cannon, firing him from thought to thought. Before he had time to question it, Oleander was at his side and prying open the window.

"Let's move!" the Coach commanded before scrambling in head-first.

Hearing the deep "NO!" of a Heavy Censor entering the alley, Raz had no time to argue, and climbed through. Immediately he spun back around to shut the window behind him, and watched the horde of Censors charge through the now-empty alley. "Whew," he gasped, feeling his shoulders droop as he leaned against the windowsill. "That was close!"

"Sure was." Oleander glanced down at the money in his hand again, frowning. "But what are we supposed to do with—"

"I'll be taking that," came another voice from behind them. A second later, a hand deftly swiped the bundle of money out of Oleander's grasp.

Raz spun around and found himself having to lean back to meet the gaze of a person that could only be a college-age Loboto, who stared at him from behind familiar red-and-green glasses. Messy strands of hair stuck out from beneath a skull cap, and he wore a dull vest over a collared shirt. Before Raz could say a word, he stooped down to swipe the money from Raz's hands.

"Bower didn't make it back, I take it?" he remarked, flipping through the bills.

"N-no, he got caught," Raz said, his heart sinking as he hung his head. "I'm sorry... But I think if we went back, we could help your friend!"

"Friend?" Loboto grunted, turning around to face the bed behind him. He stooped down to shove the money under the mattress. "He told me himself that I was on my own as soon as this was over. It was a brief partnership, nothing more."

"A brief partnership for a robbery!" Oleander put his hands on his hips. "What were you thinking?"

Loboto straightened, one corner of his mouth quirking as he turned to look at Oleander. "That robbing a business is a bit more profitable than selling pilfered goods to pawn shops."

"Wait, what?" Raz gave a start. "Why are you doing all this?"

Brows furrowing, Loboto crossed his arms. "Oh, I haven't the slightest idea," he remarked, casting his gaze about the room. Raz followed it, and realized they were in a tiny studio apartment, the kitchenette dirty and its appliances out of date, and the bed's sheets messy and moth-eaten. A tiny table and chair stood in one corner, atop which sat a few weighty books and a small stack of mail.

Raz almost stated that he was used to living in a small space, but held his tongue. Instead he tugged at his sleeve. "I mean... if you cleaned up a bit and replaced some stuff, it wouldn't be... too bad."

"Geez. You ever think of getting an honest job?" Oleander remarked. "Wouldn't've had a problem joining the military at your ridiculous height."

"The military isn't keen on taking in soldiers with mental deficiencies," Loboto said, his smile taking on an angry twinge. "But yes, in fact, I did think of getting an honest job."

Part of Raz knew he was talking to a mental figure, not the Loboto from the present day, but he couldn't help himself: "You can still do that! It's not too late to—"

"And how do you know that?" Loboto was suddenly towering over Raz, his glasses gleaming. "You think you can just barge in here and suddenly think you know everything about me?!"

Shuddering, Raz took a step back, only to bump his head against the wall. Oleander was quick to step between them. "You're college age and got rich parents," the Coach said, and Loboto's head snapped over to glare at him. "You gonna tell me you can't even go to school?"

Loboto's mouth twisted into a snarl as he bent down to glare into Oleander's face. "Yes, I am telling you that."

Raz blinked; he hadn't gone to school either, but that was because his family traveled so much, and he had to be homeschooled by his parents. Casting another glance around the room, however, he got the feeling that wasn't the case for Loboto. "Could you tell us... why?"

"Why, indeed!" Loboto cried, straightening and spinning around. Hands behind his back, he began to pace back and forth in the tiny space the apartment afforded him. "Why, when I was at the top of my class in every subject! Why, when my parents paid my tuition for a college on the other side of the country!"

Raz nearly expected Oleander to make a nasty comment about that, but the Coach was silent, looking away.

Meanwhile, Loboto continued to pace, his voice heightening in pitch as he went on. "Why, when all I did was provide a correction to one of my good professors!" He snatched a book off the table and a handful of the mail with it, glaring down at it. "Why was that enough to deem me a psychic sympathizer?!" he cried, his final words emphasized by the book's being chucked across the room. It hit the floor and slid to a halt in front of Raz and Oleander, and a slip of paper that had accidentally been nabbed with the book skidded alongside it.

While Oleander plucked the paper from the floor, Raz hoisted the book into his arms and held it up to get a good look. A large tooth emblazoned on the cover caught his eye, immediately followed by the title: Advanced Dentistry, 15th ed. That wasn't much of a surprise, but what Loboto had said earlier...

"University of Stoneton School of Dentistry..." Oleander read from the paper, then looked down and to his left side, frowning in thought. "Stoneton, where have I..." Suddenly he stood upright, eyes wide, only to deflate. "Oh gosh, they criminalized it in this state."

"Wh-what was criminalized?" Raz asked, but something nasty tugged at the back of his mind, some awful bit of trivia lurking at the back of his memory. "Wait... I remember that name from True Psychic Tales Issue 356! Stoneton is the capital of one of the states most infamous for..." He faltered, unable to finish the sentence.

...for its harsh treatment of psychics and anyone who allied with them.

"My parents spoke highly of this place," Loboto muttered, a bitter twinge to his voice. "They thought it would be an excellent university for me to continue my studies..."

"Well, uh, maybe you could go to a... different college?" Raz provided, only to flinch back when Loboto whirled on him.

"Yes, clearly that's something I'm capable of affording right now!" he snapped. When Raz looked up at him fearfully, he faltered, shaking his head and looking down at the bed where he'd hid the money. After a moment, he stepped toward the window, opening it up to stare out into the alleyway. Hesitantly Raz stepped up to his side, following his gaze. "This is only temporary. Once I've got enough funds, I'm leaving this rotten town." And he stepped away again, taking a few paces toward the bed.

Memories of the multiple pages of criminal reports flooded Raz's mind, and he wilted. "Right... temporary."

"Sounds like a plan," Oleander remarked dully.

"Speaking of leaving," Loboto went on, "I think that's what you two should be doing. Now." And without warning, he raised up his foot to swiftly kick Oleander in the gut, sending him stumbling backwards into Raz and knocking them both out the window.

Raz yelped as he hit the fire escape, and before he could lift himself up, he was crushed under Oleander's weight. "Oof...!"

"Sorry," Oleander grunted, and pushed himself to his feet. "Hrmph! That no-good thief sure didn't get much better from there."

"But why?" Raz stood and dusted himself off. "Why would he want to just... stay a criminal?"

"Guess that's what we're here to find out..." Oleander leaned over the fire escape, glancing down the alley. "Coast is clear, now, at least."

"Right..." Sighing, Raz hopped over the edge, grabbing a thought bubble to float down to the ground. Instead of levitating with him, Oleander dropped the fire escape ladder and began to slide down that instead. Oddly, the floor seemed a lot further down than it had been before, and Raz's thought bubble nearly flickered out by the time he reached the ground. Likewise, the ladder Oleander was using appeared far longer than it should have. In fact, they definitely passed at least a couple floors of the apartment before finally reaching the ground.

Before Raz could think too long about that inconsistency, another thought struck him. "Oh! I wonder if Loboto's friend is okay." Immediately he turned toward the end of the alley where they'd found him, only to pause.

"What is it, soldier?" Oleander asked, and stopped at Raz's side. "Oh, come on!"

Once again, the end of the alleyway was nowhere in sight.

"Well... maybe we'll find him if we keep going?" Raz suggested.

The Coach sighed. "Doesn't look like we have a choice, anyway."

With that, the two continued to walk down the alleyway. A shimmering fish figment flopped up and down over a shallow puddle, but otherwise the alley was dark as it had been before. And quiet.

"...Hey, Coach," Raz found himself saying. "Why do you think Loboto's parents sent him... here? I thought they didn’t want him to be a dentist."

"Why do you think?" Oleander said, his gaze still locked on the path ahead. "You were the one who found out what his parents did to him, Raz."

He was, but the thought still settled badly in his stomach. Quickly he pushed it aside; getting upset at what Loboto's parents had done wasn't going to help this mission—not now, anyway.

As they continued walking, Raz's jacket and turtleneck clung to his clammy skin, and he tugged at his clothing and shrugged his shoulders in discomfort. Even Oleander removed his helmet for a moment to wipe the moisture from his brow. "Sheesh," the Coach muttered. "Is it gonna rain or what?"

"Glad it's not just me." Raz cast his gaze around the dim alleyway, noticing that the buildings to either side of him were now dripping with moisture from the sheer humidity. It was like early morning dew, but more unsettling. On top of that... he squinted at the fire escapes and windows above; maybe it was the weird atmosphere playing tricks on him, but they seemed to be uneven, the windows no longer strict rectangles (like a rhombus? parallelogram? trapezoid? Raz wished he knew more geometry terms), and the fire escapes seemed to warp to one side or the other. "That can't be up to safety standards..."

"In case you haven't noticed," Oleander began, casting a side-glance at Raz, "I don't think any part of this mind is safe."

"Oh, it shouldn't be that dangerous of a mission," came an unfamiliar voice from directly in front of them.

Both Raz and Oleander jumped, finding themselves once again abruptly at the opposite end of the alleyway, and once again faced with a new mental figure. This one was a fair deal calmer than the frenzied college student they'd encountered previously, hands in his jean pockets and back leaned against the damp wall. He stood relatively short (though still a head above the Coach), and had dark, greased-back hair and pale purple skin. A cigarette hung from his lips, and the smoke he exhaled from his nose spiraled lazily into the air.

"Wait." Raz stepped toward the man, brow furrowed as he pointed toward him. "How do you know about the mission?"

The man laughed. "Appreciate the caution, Cal, but we're alone here."

Oh, so it was like this again. Raz opened his mouth to speak, only to jump when Loboto's voice suddenly spoke up beside him: "Oh really? Then would you mind providing me with the details again? As I've conveniently forgotten."

Head whipping to his side, Raz could see only Oleander, and a quick glance around confirmed that no one else was there. Was that... you? Raz thought.

Oleander glanced at him with an embarrassed shrug. Used to do that when I was annoyed with him. Never thought it would come in handy.

Now the mental figure's face twisted in a frown as he bit down harder on the cigarette. "Don't test my patience. We need you to plant the bug tonight. Do that, and you'll get your pay. Got it?" With that, he stepped out of the alleyway, and Raz and Oleander followed.

Any relief Raz had felt at stepping out of the dark, cramped alley was quickly vanquished when he saw just where they'd stepped out to. It was another section of the same gloomy city (or was it? Come to think of it, did this mental figure come from a time shortly after that of the last Loboto they'd encountered, or later on?), which now appeared somewhat more warped, as buildings in the alley had. The skyscrapers here seemed slightly bent out of proportion, leaning to a center point in the night sky above. (Wait, night?) Any street lights around them that still functioned were flickering and dim, and it was hard to distinguish one building from another...

Well, aside from what was most definitely a massive warehouse that stood in the center of the area.

"That's the place," the mental figure said, tipping his head back to regard the building. "We confirmed they'll be out for the next few hours, so we're leaving it to you to get the job done."

"Great!" Oleander exclaimed, clapping his hands together. "We—er, I'll definitely do that."

"Right." The man stepped back, taking another lazy drag from his cigarette. "Well, get to it."

Raz exchanged a glance with the Coach before they both turned to look up at the warehouse again. They made their way toward it, and Raz found himself glancing around uneasily as they got closer. "What kind of 'bug' do you think that guy was talking about?" he asked as he cast a glance over his shoulder. "Does he mean the spy kind of bug, or... a beetle?"

"Unless he's tryin' to employ scare tactics, I'd assume it's the spying kind," Oleander replied, stopping when they came in sight of the door. There were two Censors standing in front of the door, these ones dressed in trench coats. Raz made short work of them with a psi-blast, and the Coach tried the door, only to find it locked. "Hm. Shoulda' figured it wouldn't be that easy."

Already Raz was hurrying around the side of the building, looking for another opening. Upon spotting a window that was barely cracked open, he used TK to slide it open further. "Over here, Coach!" he called. After using levitation to bounce upward, he hoisted himself up into the window. Remembering something Oleander had said before they entered Loboto's mind, he waited there until Oleander was below him, and used TK again, this time to help the Coach follow him.

The two dropped down into what appeared to be a restroom that hadn't been cleaned in far too long. "Okay, I know this is a mental bathroom, but eugh!" Plugging his nose, Raz hurried out of the room, only to balk upon finding himself in the much more open warehouse. It wasn't pitch black, but it was dark enough that Raz feared one misstep could send him crashing into something. Pallets of rotten, burnt hardwood, charred boxes, and half-melted plastic buckets were scattered all throughout the place—it had been partially cleared out, but some had been left to collect dust. Too much effort to clean up entirely, he assumed.

Figments of men with guns and suitcases full of money were scattered here and there, but that wasn't what they were looking for right now. They walked around the pallets for a moment before Oleander perked up, and Raz noticed a faint blue glow out of the corner of his eye. Edging between two decaying stacks of hardwood, he spotted an open door that the blue light originated from.

"It's a fish tank," Oleander said before Raz could voice his curiosity. "Can barely hear 'em from here."

They crept into the room, finding it to be an office that was moderately better cared-for than the rest of the place. What stood out in particular was the safe in one corner of the room, and the large tank that sat across from the door. Several fish swam within, some with brilliant silver scales and others with black and white stripes. Raz couldn't hear them talking, but zoolepathy wasn't something he was well-versed in, aside from with rats and mice, anyway. He might be able to hear them better if he CV'd into one, but what would be the point in doing that now? Shaking his head, he turned back to the Coach. "This isn't really getting us anywhere. What bug are we even supposed to plant? We don't have one!"

To his confusion, Oleander ignored him, placing one hand on the fish tank and the other to his temple, his good eye glancing around as he strained to listen. "Dang aquatic accents," he grumbled, brow furrowing. "Slow down, slow down... Huh, really? Where?"

"What are they saying?" Raz asked, staring into the tank again. Some of the fish were facing Oleander, while a few swam in place, staring pointedly at a castle decoration.

"They said some new guy was just put in here." The Coach lowered his hands and peered into the castle, and his eyebrows raised as something began to move within. It bumped into the entrance a few times before wiggling its way out; it was a black-scaled goldfish with enormous eyes. "Huh, telescope-eyed fish."

Raz huffed out a small laugh as he watched the fish awkwardly swim around the tank, bumping into more decorations and even other fish. "You'd think with big eyes like that, it'd be able to see better."

"Wait, hang on." Oleander put a hand to his temple again, and his face darkened. "...Those aren't his eyes."

"Huh?" Curious, Raz squinted to see into the tank better before finally CVing into one of the nearby fish to get a better look. To his surprise, the little goldfish did not have giant eyes, but rather cameras strapped to its head over its own eyes. Quickly he brought himself back, scratching the back of his helmet. "Cameras? But why—"

The door creaked behind them.

"Done admiring my work yet?"

Heart jumping into his throat, Raz spun around to find Loboto standing where the open door had been resting against the wall. Once again he was wearing a black skull cap, and the rest of his clothing was equally dark, aside from his glasses—still the same red-and-green as always.

"Loboto!" Raz exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

"My job," he retorted, striding up to the fishtank to gaze into it.

"Your job?" Oleander frowned up at the mental figure. "I thought you said this whole criminal gig would be temporary."

"Oh, times change," Loboto said, grasping his right wrist behind his back. "And plans do, too, when you're a wanted criminal." A harsh laugh forced its way up his throat. "It's a bit hard to apply to a new college after that!"

"W-wanted?" Shuddering, Raz took a few hesitant steps back. "What... did you do?"

"Oh, just a few thefts here and there. Not quite as exciting as it used to be, but it's a living," he replied, stooping down to get a better look into the fish tank. "This one, though... this was fun. I've been learning different trades in my spare time. Building things is quite entertaining..."

Oleander glanced from the tank and back up to Loboto. "You stuck a camera on a fish."

"Wrong!" Loboto slapped the top of the tank, causing the fish within to dart about erratically, and spun around. "I stuck two cameras on a fish!"

Hearing a light tapping noise emanating from the tank, Raz turned to see the little goldfish was repeatedly bumping into the wall. "...Why?"

"Wheeler needed help... retrieving some money from a former partner that had neglected to pay him back. He saw my tinkering work and asked if I could plant a bug. I told him no, of course, but I could plant a fish." His yellow teeth glinted in the light of the tank. "Fluoride's been an excellent subject."

"Fluoride?" Raz looked away, frowning as he tried to piece together what that meant.

"...He means the fish," Oleander muttered. He was staring into the tank again, his brow creased in worry. Following his gaze, Raz could tell the fish within looked... unsteady.

"This job paid quite well, too! And there's plenty out there looking for more... underhanded work, hm." Loboto stepped past the two of them, striding toward the doorway. "Excellent pay, fascinating work, and new clients every day..." He looked back, tipping his head, but his smile was empty. "What more could you want?"

Before either of them could answer, Loboto ducked through the doorway and stepped out into the warehouse. Oleander and Raz hurried after him, only to find the mental figure had disappeared into the shadows.

Raz's shoulders fell. "What happened to wanting to be a dentist...?"

"Guess he was happier with this career path," Oleander said. "Didn't sound like he regretted it, anyway."

A low whine echoed from the office, and the two spun around. Seeing the bug-like mental construct hovering near the fish tank, Raz took a psychic stance. "Spoke too soon, Coach!"

"No kidding!" Gritting his teeth, Oleander followed suit. While he reached out with TK to yank the Regret's weight away, Raz fired a psi-blast, fizzling its form immediately. "That was fast," the Coach said, dropping the weight and watching it fade away.

"I mean, they're not really all that tough on their own."

The Coach shook his head. "No, I mean for him to regret this job. Though he could just be regretting it now, in hindsight."

"Oh, maybe." Raz nearly followed Oleander as he headed back out into the warehouse, but turned around briefly to look at the fish tank one last time. For some reason the fish were now all swimming closer to the floor of the tank, like they were trying to avoid something at the... top...

Something was bobbing belly-up in the water, and Raz didn't stick around for a closer look. He turned and fled after the Coach, his stomach turning as he left the darkened office and dark memory behind.

It was easier to get out of the warehouse than in as they stepped out the previously-locked front door. The man—Wheeler, apparently—was gone, leaving this corner of the city even more barren than it had been before. "Now where do we go...?" Raz asked, wrapping his arms around himself in spite of the humid air.

The Coach surveyed the area for a moment before signaling to his right. "This way, soldier."

It only took Raz a moment to spot a figment of a thief carting away a suitcase full of money, looking strikingly like the man they'd talked to earlier. It was moving down a road leading away from the warehouse, leaving a trail of dollar-shaped figments flickering behind it. Raz and Oleander absorbed the figments as they followed the road leading further into the city. But something was... odd.

Raz noticed it when an uneven crack in the asphalt nearly caused him to trip. He hadn't been paying too much attention to the state of the road, but looking back, there were a fair number of cracks back where they'd first left the warehouse. It certainly didn't help that the road they walked was at enough of a decline to make it awkward to traverse. Looking at the path ahead, it was only getting worse, with the road gradually becoming more broken and uneven, with the occasional pothole that they had to step around.

"Sheesh, these roads're worse than a midwest street after a bad winter," Oleander grumbled.

Raz eyed a particularly large pothole as they passed it. "No kidding. My dad broke a wheel driving down a road like this once."

The road wasn't the only thing to change, either; the buildings around them leaned further and further inward, their windows and doors continuing to warp into strange shapes. When they finally reached the main street, Raz instinctively grabbed the Coach's wrist and dove to the sidewalk on the right just in time to avoid an oncoming car that swerved around the corner. Raz had crashed forward while the Coach had fallen onto his back, but they'd both escaped being hit. "Yikes!" Raz cried, hopping upright and dusting himself off. He reached down to help Oleander back up. "That was a close one, huh?"

But Oleander did not immediately accept his offer, instead staring up at the sky. "That's... not normal."

Blinking, Raz followed his gaze, and his eyes widened. "N... no, it's not."

There was no sun, no stars, no moon overhead; the skyscrapers had leaned inward so far that the very tops of them were joined together, completely blocking out the sky above.

"It's... not that bad," Raz remarked as he helped the Coach to his feet. "When I went into Boyd's mind, it was all streets and stuff too, but—"

"—twisted around, yeah, I know," Oleander said with a wince. "Don't gotta remind me of that mess."

"Right, sorry."

Slowly they proceeded down the sidewalk, finding themselves occasionally glancing back up at the warped ceiling high above. No, it wasn't as warped as Boyd's mind, but that didn't stop it from making Raz shudder, unease crawling up his spine.

The occasional figment dotted the sidewalk, depicting shady figures walking to and fro. A few streetlights that lined the road were flickering, and lights blinked on and off through misshapen windows in the nearby buildings, creating a constantly-changing lighting within the dim street. Cars occasionally sped down the road, bumping and rocking wildly against the busted asphalt, though they were driverless, as all the others had been. There were no true signs of life in this place, not even mental constructs, and a faint wind occasionally blew over the streets. To their right, most of the doors were flush with the walls and unable to be opened, with doorknobs that could not be turned, though Raz kept glancing at them, wondering if they might be able to continue their investigation into another place.

Finally he spotted it: a door that was actually set into the building. Raz nudged Oleander to get his attention before approaching the door. Just as he reached for the knob, however, the door flew open, and Raz had to leap backward as a mental figure stumbled out. She wore a blue jean jacket and a dark blue skirt, as well as, oddly, a large sunhat whose bright colors stood in stark contrast with the rest of her outfit. Though it was hard to see her head beneath the hat, she appeared to have short hair.

"Woah!" Raz exclaimed, holding up his hands in defense. "I'm sorry, ma'am, I—"

"TV...?" the woman mumbled, straightening and tipping her head back to look up at the buildings above them. Her eyes were half-lidded, and her mouth was hanging open. "Basketball practice?"

"...Welp." Oleander crossed his arms as he watched the woman stagger down the street. "Guess that was bound to happen at some point."

"So he really was removing brains before you worked with him?"

The Coach's brows creased as he looked away. "Well, yes, that's one of the reasons I sought him out. Though the proximity was a pretty good bonus," he muttered. "Not that I'd want to go through all that again, but—"

"Man, I wonder how he got his hands on that sneezing powder," Raz said, rubbing his chin as he watched the woman continue to stumble off.

"We had to make it from scratch when I worked with him. Was a real hassle." Oleander paused for a moment, as though reminded of something, and shuddered.

"Wait, but if he didn't have access to it before, then how did he—"

Wind whistled through the city streets, and a gust of it hit the sunhat on the woman's head, blowing it straight off. Bandages covered her scalp.

Raz froze, exchanging glances with Oleander, who looked just as alarmed as he felt. Without a word they both scrambled through the open door and up the cramped apartment staircase. A closed door sat at the top of the stairs, and without a second thought Raz threw it open. This couldn't possibly be as bad as he suspected, could it? Loboto hadn't really gotten that bad that quickly, could he?

But to his relief, he was greeted with a plain, if small, living room. A rabbit-eared TV sat in one corner with a chair facing it, and a small tower of books sat atop a side table to the left of that. It would have looked like a perfectly normal apartment had it not been for the shelves lined with well-kept dental tools along the left wall. A strange sight, to be sure, but it wasn't exactly uncharacteristic for someone like Loboto. Directly across from them was the entrance to the kitchen, whose light was on. The sound of a running faucet and clanking silverware nearly drowned out a disgruntled hum. "You turned back around again, Shirley. Head down the stairs, not up."

"Uh, we ain't Shirley," Oleander said, taking a hesitant step toward the kitchen.

The mental figure within clicked his tongue before shutting off the faucet. "You don't sound like my two o'clock either, unless you got a very bad case of strep throat since you called this morning. Anyway, give me a moment!" With that, the faucet switched on again, and the clanking of silverware resumed.

"Hang on, Loboto." Raz squeezed past Oleander and into the kitchen, where Loboto was presumably washing his dishes. "We just wanted to ask you some... questions..."

Loboto, now bearing a much more familiar silhouette, stood with his back to Raz as he hunched over the sink, his arms elbow-deep in the water. This time, he wore a long apron as well as the tall, wide shower cap that had seemed to resist Raz's powers. It didn't have any patches on it, but it was very much the same shower cap with its distinct floral pattern. "Could you not wait a moment?" Loboto asked, slowly turning to look over his shoulder. He still bore his original red-and-green glasses, which he seemed to be glaring through. "I'm busy."

At first Raz wondered why Loboto would be so upset about a common household chore being interrupted, until he noticed... the suds in the water were distinctly pink. And to Loboto's left, sitting innocuously on the counter, was a large jar containing a bright pink brain suspended in transparent green goop.

"Oh," Raz squeaked. He could faintly smell the hint of blood beneath the cleaning chemicals, and it was enough to bring up memories of butchered meat and twisted rabbits. The world began to tip.

"Keep it together, soldier," Oleander muttered behind him, placing a firm hand on Raz's shoulder to keep him steady. He raised his voice to speak to Loboto. "So what's the big idea, here? I know you've got freakishly long legs, but it's a heck of a jump to go from stealing money to stealing brains."

"You wouldn't be the first to take an interest in my career," Loboto said, lifting his arms out of the sink. Pink-stained water and suds dripped from his gloves, as well as the oddly thin piece of silverware he held between his fingers. He twirled it absently. "I'm quite popular these days."

"Quit dodgin' the question!" The Coach glared at him. "How'd you get from one thing to the other?"

"Such a hurry!" Without looking away, he held the silverware under the faucet and rinsed the suds off of it, revealing not a butter knife, but a surgical knife. Gently he dried it off with a towel before setting it aside. "Removing a bad tooth takes time, you know... as does removing a bad brain." He reached over to pat the brain jar affectionately. "I've done all sorts of work for clients! But the ones who would stop by my... office took note of my collection of dental tools. They used to be just that—a collection! But one client suggested that it would be a shame for them to go to waste..."

"R-right," Raz stammered, trying to bring himself back. "You were arrested for practicing dentistry without a license."

"Pshaw! Of course not!" Loboto waved a dismissive hand. "I haven't dealt with the police in ages now and I've yet to acquire an arrest record! And unfortunately no, I've not practiced true dentistry yet." He glared out the kitchen window, frowning. "That would be the dream, wouldn't it?"

"But then—oh." Raz swallowed. "You're... removing brains with dental tools?"

Loboto let out a giggle. "Pulling bad teeth, pulling bad brains—not much of a difference if you ask me!"

It made Raz sick to think about, but it still didn't feel like it was adding up. Oleander was right—this still felt like too big of a jump. Loboto had been involved in criminal activity the last times they'd seen him, yes, but he'd seemed... relatively sane. "There... is a difference, though. And I... I think you know that."

There was an uncomfortable silence save for the humming of the light above them. For a moment Loboto stared at Raz, his smile twisting unpleasantly. "Yes," he hissed. "How observant! Yes, a cavity doesn't form instantly. The patient misses a day of brushing, then another, then another, maybe they eat a sugary snack here and there... Meanwhile the plaque and tartar build up and erode the enamel..." He trailed off, wandering back to the sink and reaching in.

"So what did all that... plaque and tartar look like for you?" Oleander asked, crossing his arms.

The soapy pink water sloshed as Loboto retrieved a wicked-looking dental pick from the sink and proceeded to rinse it off. He was quiet for another moment before he spoke up, pitching his voice slightly higher. "'These tools, Cal... They look like they would hurt,'" he said distantly, watching the clean water drip from the hooked tip of the tool. "That's what that one client, Nora, told me. 'No,' I told her, 'in the right hands, the procedures can be mildly unpleasant at worst.'" With a skilled flick, the water was gone from the hook, leaving it perfectly clean and dry. "'So,' she went on, 'could those same hands... make them hurt? Perhaps, enough for a patient to beg, and plead, to give whatever information you want?'"

He stood still for a moment, turning the pick thoughtfully in his hands.

"'It would be a shame for them to go to waste...'"

Raz looked between the dental tool and Loboto, and he knew it wasn't the tools Loboto was thinking about.

He knew the feeling. Dion had once tried goading him into "making himself useful" and using his TK powers to pickpocket the rich parents of a bratty kid that kept whining during one of their shows. Their brother hadn't really meant it, Frazie had told him later—their family was not a band of thieves, and Dion was just trying to get him in trouble. But that hadn't stopped the thought from turning in his mind. If Raz wasn't able to join the Psychonauts, then wouldn't his powers just be going to waste? Why didn't he just do something like use his telekinesis to swipe someone's loose change, or chuck pine cones at unsuspecting people like Frazie often did?

Ultimately he'd decided he wouldn't do that—he would either use his powers for something good, or not at all. And "not at all" wasn't an option for him—he was going to join the Psychonauts, and he wasn't going to let anyone else stop him. But that clearly wasn't what happened with Loboto and his dental skills.

"...You could've used them to help people," Raz muttered weakly.

Loboto cocked his head with an unhappy smile. "That ship has sailed."

"But... but it hasn't!" Raz found himself stepping closer, even as the Coach shook his head. "Maybe you can go to another college, or... or find some other way to get your license? Or even find something else you can do that doesn't involve... this."

"That ship has sailed," Loboto snapped. "Gone! Fled off into the horizon, never to return!"

"But—"

The floor shook.

Dental equipment rattled in the room behind them, the walls cracked, and Raz and Oleander managed to scramble a few feet further into the kitchen as the ceiling of the living room caved in behind them, entirely blocking the doorway.

"You see?" Loboto tugged at one of his gloves until it came off with a snap. "Too late to turn back now."

Raz stared in dismay at the damage; he couldn't even see the room they'd originally been in anymore. "Oh man..." Yet as he stared at it, he realized that the debris before him wasn't made of a lot of heavy building materials—only dense brown dirt and powdery drywall. Frowning, he reached out with telekinesis, grabbing a piece of drywall and tugging on it. With a bit of effort, he managed to dislodge it from the wreck. "Hey, check this out!" he called.

To his relief, Loboto took a few steps closer, staring at the collapsed room and then down at the bit of debris Raz had pulled from it.

"See?" Raz said, smiling. "We might be able to clear this away!"

The mental figure stared for a few moments before hesitantly reaching out toward one of the other pieces of collapsed drywall.

"That's it!" Grinning, Raz looked over at Oleander. "Coach, you could use your psi-punch to—"

"No, no," Loboto blurted out, yanking his hand away and taking several steps back. "No use in that." He stared up at the blocked doorway again before shaking his head and turning away. "It'll just fall apart again anyway."

Raz's face fell. "But—"

"Anyway!" Loboto perked up, turning around to drain the sink before removing his other glove. "Much to do! A lot of interesting work ahead!" With another giggle, he snatched up the brain jar and marched out of the kitchen through a second doorway.

Sighing, Raz looked back at the collapsed room. "I... I didn't think it seemed that hopeless."

"Yeah, but you ain't the one who's been livin' in this fox hole. It's like he dug himself one and decided to stay there." Oleander eyed the dirt that accompanied the wreckage. "Literally, it looks like."

"But why would he decide to stay here? Did he... make friends?"

"I dunno; he's mixin' with some nasty sorts here," Oleander muttered. "But you never know with this guy."

"Maybe we can find out. C'mon!"

With that, Raz waved Oleander through the door that Loboto had absconded through. Out the opposite side of the kitchen was a hallway that seemed oddly long and winding for something in an apartment building, and always seemed to move slightly downward. The walls here were cracked, and more dirt seemed to be drifting through some of the thin holes. Figments of rocks and picture frames filled the otherwise empty hall. The old carpet muffled their footsteps, but the building was otherwise silent, up until it wasn't.

"OH, REALLY?!" came Loboto's snarl from down the hall, causing both Raz and Oleander to jump. "Classic crooked criminals conspiring to cheat competent creators out of their cash! It was only the finest in anti-psychic technology! See where you can get a better deal on—" There was a pause, followed by the CLANG of a phone against its receiver.

"Well, he... definitely wasn't friends with whoever that was," Raz whispered.

"That's a shocker," Oleander muttered as he crept further down the hall. A light shone from an open doorway, and as they approached it, they could hear Loboto grumbling under his breath.

The room itself was a small office of some sort, with a drafting table on one end covered in blueprints, a fish tank at the other end, and a desk directly across from the door. Sitting atop it was the phone they'd heard earlier, as well as another blueprint. Loboto was towering over said blueprint, his shoulders hunched, his hands gripping either side of the desk. While they couldn't get a good look at all of him since his back was turned, he looked no different from the last they'd seen of him, save a patch on his hat.

"Rough time with a customer, I take it?" Oleander asked, leaning against the door frame.

"What's it to you?!" Loboto growled, refusing to turn around.

"We, uh, just wanted to see how you were doing," Raz offered. "Didn't you say you had some interesting work to do?"

"Yes. Quite fascinating work!" He tipped his head up, giving a flourish with his hand. "I was hired to create anti-psychic defenses! Quite desirable in the criminal world, though not something unheard of." Giggling, he tapped his shower cap. "But they don't make that technology available to just anyone, so I had to figure it out myself. Lots of very hard work..."

Raz couldn't help but shudder. "But... they didn't want it?"

"Oh, no, they wanted it, quite a lot! But—"

The Coach perked up. "Ah, I get it. They took your prototype and got someone else to produce it for less money."

Without warning Loboto banged both his fists against the desk, sending the fish in the nearby tank darting about frantically. "UNGRATEFUL!" he cried. "Ungrateful unpleasant untruthful underhanded—!"

"They aren't all that bad, are they?" Raz asked, only to flinch when Oleander gave him a sidelong glance. "I mean, they're criminals, but there's gotta be some of them you liked working with."

For a while the mental figure before them was silent. His tense posture began to loosen, his shoulders drooping and his fists unclenching.

"You've been doing this for a while now." Raz took a few steps into the room, taking another look around as he did so. There was a workbench he hadn't seen initially pushed against the wall closest to the door, tools scattered atop it, as well as another blueprint. It was close enough that he could see what looked like the schematics for high-tech goggles drawn onto it, but that wasn't what was important right now. Turning back to Loboto, he went on, "There's gotta be some you had a good relationship with... right?"

"...I tried."

Raz paused.

The volume, or lack thereof, was not the only thing that caught him off-guard. The uncharacteristic softness of Loboto's voice immediately yanked his mind back to the hospital, and to the younger version of the man before him, so much smaller and so much more afraid.

It didn't last long, however, as Loboto's voice gradually rose in volume: "I did every little thing they asked. I put my two-hundred-and-ten percent into every task. I put EVERY part of me into these jobs!"

And when he whipped around, leaning down to face Raz, two gleaming lights stared into his own eyes, the robotic optics (not goggles, Raz realized as his stomach dropped) twitching left and right to take him in. Before Raz could say anything in response, a green field of psychic energy suddenly surrounded him, putting a barrier between him and Loboto, who gave a bemused grunt. His optics swiveled to the doorway, and Raz followed his gaze.

Oleander stood with one hand to his temple, fixing Loboto with a challenging glare.

"Hrmph." Loboto straightened and took a step back. "They didn't trust me much, either."

The three exchanged a few tense glances, and the psi-shield did not fade.

"...Well, that's how it goes!" Loboto exclaimed, whipping back around to face his desk again. "They're clients—customers! Not coworkers, after all. You work with 'em once, maybe twice, and that's the end of it!" Cheerily he plucked the blueprint off the desk and rolled it up, tossing it over to the drafting table. "Back to work now, of course! Lots of opportunities, and lots of work to go with them. I'll need some time alone for this."

After a moment Oleander lowered his hand, and the psi-shield flickered out. "Guess that's our cue to leave." He cast another glare at Loboto before stepping out the door.

Raz hurried after him, lowering his voice. "I don't think he was going to hurt me, Coach."

"I've got one eye, private, and apparently I can see better than you." Turning to Raz, he tapped his own temple as they proceeded down the hall. "Didn't you see what he did to himself? Replacing his own eyes with that? If he doesn't have a qualm with hurting himself, what's he gonna do to you?"

"I dunno!" Raz shrugged widely. "Maybe he had to do that! You didn't really give me the chance to ask him!"

"You don't know him very well, then."

"Or maybe you don't know him as well as you think you do," Raz retorted, only to wince.

"What's that?" Oleander whipped around to glare at him. "You wanna run that by me again?"

Well, it was too late to back down now. Raz stopped walking and turned to face him. "You're not giving him a fair chance. All you do is fight with him!"

"Yeah, and you would too if you had to work with the guy like I did."

"Weren't you the one that hired him?'

"Nevermind that! Point is, I've dealt with more of this guy than you'll ever have to."

"So what happened, then?" Raz snapped. "You said something happened that made you not trust him, so—"

"AAGH!" Loboto squawked from his office. "I said I needed to be alone! What are you doing here? Shoo, shoo!"

Several loud whines were all the warning they got before three Regrets came buzzing out of Loboto's office. Upon spotting Oleander and Raz, they whined loudly again, one of them taking one hand off its weight to point at them dramatically.

"Oh, great," Oleander said, staring deadpan at the mental constructs. "I guess these ones aren't too bad to deal with, at least—"

"NO!" "No!" "NONONO!"

Half a dozen footsteps came trampling down the hallway, and Oleander took several steps back. "Spoke too soon!"

Gritting his teeth, Raz reached out with TK and yanked away one of the Regrets' weights, then slung it forward. Its owner buzzed out of the way, while the weight crashed into one of the other Regrets behind it. The third Regret, meanwhile, swooped forward to drop its weight on Oleander, who tossed up a spiky shield over himself at the last second. The weight bounced back up at the bug, smashing it into the ceiling.

As the Censors came into view, Raz jumped forward and shot a psi-blast at the final Regret, which ricocheted over to two of the constructs behind it. The final Censor, a smaller one, seemed to notice that it was now alone. It stopped its charge, looked from Raz to Oleander, then let out a high-pitched "nope!" before turning around and bolting.

"Huh!" Oleander dismissed his shield, dusting his hands off. "That takes care of that."

Raz held up a finger, about to point out that Oleander hadn't actively participated that time, when the walls started shaking. The cracks in the walls began to grow, more dirt pouring from them, and Raz spread his arms out to keep his balance. "I-is this another cave in?"

"NO."

Another set of footfalls came pounding down the hall: two Heavy Censors running shoulder to shoulder, their enormous arms punching through the walls as they charged forward.

"Oh no, no, no!" Raz cried as he and Oleander took several steps back.

"Yes!" came the shout of the tiny Censor, which sat atop the two Heavy Censors' shoulders.

"Retreat!" Oleander shouted, turning tail and running. Raz couldn't argue with that, and followed suit. The hallway wound further down through whatever building this was supposed to be, the walls cracking further as the Censors destroyed them, though the ceiling remained intact, at least. Once or twice they stumbled over the uneven flooring or rocks that fell from the walls, but the two Heavy Censors moved ever closer, their low-pitched voices growing louder.

"We're dead meat if those things catch up!" Oleander panted.

"Please don't say that—"

"You think we can take these things in a narrow, collapsing hallway?"

"No, I mean 'dead meat.'" Raz gestured awkwardly as he ran. "It's kinda a bit too soon for that—"

"Oh, sorry."

Just ahead, there seemed to be a room at the end of the hallway, and Raz's eyes widened. "There! I think we can make it!"

"All right, hang on!" Gritting his teeth, Oleander dove forward, skidding through the doorway, and Raz dropped into a skilled roll just behind him. The second he was through the door, he spun around, looking up. The wall of this room was made of stone and dirt for some reason, but he didn't have time to parse out why. The Heavy Censors were nearly at the door, and without a second thought, Raz fired a psi-blast at the wall above, causing it to rumble.

The Heavy Censors paused in the doorway, looking around in confusion, while the smaller Censor between them looked up. "Oh, no!"

The wall and doorway above them collapsed, crushing all three Censors, who faded out of existence with pained "nooooo"s.

"Good work, soldier," Oleander said as he stood, brushing actual dust off himself this time.

"Thanks." Raz brushed himself off as well and began to turn around. "Now, were you gonna tell me what... you..."

He froze.

"...Where are we?" he asked.

And the quiet echo of his own voice answered: “...are we?”

Chapter Text

Raz and Oleander stared up at what looked to be a wide, open cave that was trying very, very hard to convince them that it was actually a cityscape. The walls towered high above them like the previous buildings had, but these were the walls of a cave, except with shapes appearing to be slightly off-looking windows and doors carved into them. The "sidewalk" they stood upon and the "road" in front of them only barely resembled such, with no asphalt or concrete to sell the illusion—only stone and dirt. The driverless cars no longer rumbled down this road—a massive cave-in to their left would've prevented any possible traffic anyway.

Oleander looked around warily, wondering aloud, "What kind of mental world is this?"

"...is this?" his own voice echoed.

"Only one way to find out." With that, Raz walked down the shoddy excuse for a sidewalk; he wasn't convinced something wouldn't try to run him over if he stepped onto the "road." Only the occasional figment stood here and there, such as one of a flock of bats and pigeons swooping overhead, and another of a mole with a suspiciously rectangular head and pointed chin sticking out of the ground. Otherwise the place was deserted, with only the echoes of their own footsteps filling the silence.

...And one other sound, gentle and familiar, somewhere up ahead.

It was a sound that still brought a chill down Raz's spine, but it filled him with excitement nonetheless. "Hey!" he cried, charging forward.

"Slow down, private!" Oleander whispered harshly. "We don't know what's down here!"

"I do!" Raz called over his shoulder, following the sound. It was a quiet sloshing noise that echoed off the city-cave walls, and as he got closer, he could see a reflection of light dancing on the ceiling. The sounds and lights led him down a narrower tunnel, and finally he skidded to a halt before a break in the road, a crevasse, with a wide stream of water filling the gap.

Oleander arrived at his side, panting. "Man, what was the hurry?" he gasped, staring down at the stream. "Don't you got a fear of this stuff, or something?"

"It's... complicated," Raz said, embarrassed. He raised a hand, waving at the water, and a watery arm, the Hand of Galochio, waved back at him. "See—"

"Dang, Cal, you took your sweet time getting here," an unfamiliar voice hissed.

"Not again..." Sighing, Raz turned around to face the mental figure that was approaching him. He was slim and tall, albeit not nearly as tall as Loboto, but still enough to tower over Raz and Oleander. He wore a trenchcoat that looked uncomfortably hot on him, and a wide-brimmed hat that made him nearly resemble the G-men Raz had seen in Boyd's mind. "Look, we—"

"Do you have it ready, or not?" the man growled.

"Of course I do, what sort of idiot do you take me for?" came Loboto's voice. Raz spun around to see Oleander again, a smug grin on his face.

"One that's three days late on this job to begin with," the man spat. "You're lucky these guys are moving slower than we expected."

"Right, geez," Oleander said, hands on his hips. "I got it! It's... around here, somewhere."

...What is it? Raz whispered into Oleander's mind.

Not a clue. Help me search.

"Where?" the client demanded.

"Just a moment!" Raz exclaimed, turning this way and that to see... whatever sort of device this client was expecting. Or maybe it was a brain? He hoped it wasn't a brain. He didn't immediately spot anything in the narrow tunnel, and the man was shuffling his feet, his arms crossed and fingers digging into his coat. Oh man, this is bad. I don't have it ready, and he's getting mad, and he probably won't pay us—

What are you talking about, soldier? Oleander asked, turning to raise a brow at him. This is a mental figure. He's just representing something that already happened to Loboto.

Oh, yeah. Raz shook his head to bring himself back. As he did so, he picked up on a sloshing noise nearby. Hey, you hear that?

...Is... that an aquatic accent?

Exchanging glances, Raz and Oleander crept up to the edge of the water and looked down to where the splashing noises originated from. Something was approaching them—something that smelled vaguely like a fish market that had run out of ice.

"Whoof!" Oleander stumbled back, plugging his nose, and Raz gasped, wafting the air away from his face.

As whatever-it-was drew nearer, they could see what appeared to be something almost person-sized that was... not a person. It was big, lumpy, and covered in fins, and its bulgy, unblinking eyes were now staring up at them expectantly. At this point Raz was also covering his nose, struggling to breathe past the stench.

"What is this?" the mental figure behind them asked, and Raz gave a jump, suddenly remembering he existed.

"Uh!" Raz spun around, looking from the man and back to the horrific mutant fish, and gave a nervous grin. "This is... it! The thing you requested! Here it is!"

Though he couldn't get a good look at the man's face, he got the distinct impression that his nose was wrinkling as he stared down at the water. "...Right. Not... what I had in mind, but we're on a tight schedule, so it'll do." He turned back to them. "Has it been prepped with the information it needs?"

Raz eyed Oleander, who was still plugging his nose as he knelt down near the monstrosity. This thing's accent is the worst I've heard, the Coach thought, but it seems to have some vague idea of some job or other.

"Yes," Raz replied with what he hoped looked like a confident nod.

"Great. Get on with it, then!" the client exclaimed, waving at the fish. The creature warbled in response, bubbles rising around wherever its mouth was, before it resumed sloshing down the stream, soon passing out of view. "This had better work."

"It'll be fine," Oleander went on in Loboto's voice. "Those bozos will just think it's an alligator trapped in the sewer!"

There was a short pause before a gargled scream echoed from downstream, followed by the sound of rapid splashing. The mutant fish returned shortly, flopping up onto land on the opposite side of the stream, where it awkwardly scrambled up through the cave on about eight different-sized fins. Down along the stream it had come from came the sounds of many rapid footfalls echoing against the cave walls, alongside a lot of variants of the word "NO," including one that manifested itself physically, firing across the water and toward Raz and Oleander, who dove out of the way.

"Oooor it'll lead these guys right back to us!" Raz exclaimed.

"WHAT?!" the client cried, staggering back as a small army of Censors in police uniforms began charging out from around the bend.

"Welp!" Oleander hopped back to his feet. "Good luck with that!" And with that, he took off running.

"Wait, this way!" Raz called, hopping onto his lev ball and leaping over the stream.

"You frauds!" the client screamed, charging after the Coach. He made a dive for him, and Oleander barely moved out of the way, rushing back over toward Raz. He seemed to hesitate, only to take several steps backward before running forward, bouncing via levitation and landing roughly on the other side.

Raz didn't wait for him any more than that, keeping to his lev ball as he continued to charge down the tunnel.

"You can't do this to me!" the mental figure cried. "Everyone else will hear about this—AAGH!"

Raz did not look behind himself to see the man get clobbered by Censors. Instead he kept moving, eventually passing the awful mutant fish, which somehow shoved its massive body through a tiny crack in the cave wall. Eventually he realized the tunnel was starting to narrow and he wasn't sure what lay further ahead, so he hopped off his lev ball to wait for the Coach to catch up. The cries of the Censors remained in the distance and did not draw any closer.

Meanwhile, Oleander trudged up to him, resting one hand against the cave wall as he fought to catch his breath. "That... was a close call..."

"Yeah... but..." Raz turned to look back down the tunnel. "Did that mean that Loboto's plan there failed?"

"Looked like it," the Coach gasped. "Geez... and I thought that lungfish was ugly."

"I think Linda looks pretty nice, as far as lungfish go..." Raz muttered. Something struck him, and he frowned, looking around the tunnel. "Hey, we never ran into Loboto here."

"Huh, guess not." Frowning as well, Oleander raised himself up, looking around. "Did we miss him?"

"I don't think so..." Now that the Coach was with him, he kept moving down the tunnel, squinting in the relative darkness. There was no light source here, but that never seemed to matter in mental worlds. Even so, he could see nothing up ahead... but he could hear something.

Clank, clank, clank...

"Is that...?" Oleander muttered. He didn't have to finish his thought as both he and Raz picked up the pace to find a memory vault frolicking about in the narrow tunnel.

"Aha!"

The vault's ears perked at Raz's voice, and it turned to face him before leaping in surprise and scrambling further down the tunnel. Once again Raz hopped onto a lev ball to catch up with it, and swung a psi-punch at it when he was close.

"Gotcha!" he exclaimed as the vault collapsed to the ground, spitting out a stereoscope. Dismissing the lev ball, Raz stooped down to pick up the device. "Now we're getting somewhere," he said as he held the device up to his eyes.

"Loboto: Discomfited!" read the first slide.

The next showed Loboto in an apartment looking similar to the one Raz had seen him in before, looking alarmed as people pounded on his door, shouting angrily.

In the next, Loboto was frowning as he sneaked out through a window, carrying a bag that was full of dentist tools as well as a familiar teddy bear.

Next, Loboto was seen smiling as he hung up a sign reading "Dr. Caligosto Loboto D.D.S." in front of a small but nice-looking building.

The next slide showed the inside of the building. Happy patients sat within the waiting room while a receptionist smiled from the front desk. An open door showed Loboto with a genuine smile as he worked on an equally-happy patient. (Man, not sure I buy that, Raz thought.)

Another slide showed a closeup of a note for some kind of medicine, which Loboto was signing in flowing, elegant handwriting.

The next slide showed a place that had bottles of medicine lining the shelves. A couple people were looking over the note in concern, one of them holding up the same kind of note with the significantly more garbled handwriting of a real doctor, while the third person dialed the police on the phone.

The next slide showed the police barging in on Loboto while he was working on a patient, both Loboto and the patient looking horrified while the police pointed at Loboto accusingly.

The eighth and final slide showed Loboto in a straitjacket, screaming as he was dragged off to an asylum with a silhouette Raz was very familiar with.

"...Wait, what?" Raz blinked as he pulled the stereoscope away from his face.

"Here, let me take a look." Oleander grabbed the device when it was passed to him and frowned at it. "Lousy viewmasters..." he grumbled before peering into it. After a couple minutes, his cheeks puffed out before he doubled over with laughter. "That's what got 'im?!"

"What was it? What did he do wrong? Uh, other than practicing dentistry without a license?"

Grinning, Oleander tossed the stereoscope aside. "Those pharmacists caught 'im by his signature on that prescription note. Too fancy for a real doctor!"

"Oh... wow." Raz stared down at the discarded memory and frowned. "He... really did try to go back to being a dentist."

"Yeah, lotta' good that did him," Oleander said, waving a dismissive hand.

"He was trying to be better, though." Raz scratched the back of his head. "He probably could've gone about that a better way, but... he did try."

"Yeah, and went right back to crime n' villainy as soon as he got the chance." The Coach rubbed his chin. "That was Thorney Towers, though, which is where he was when I met him... we shouldn't have too much more to go through."

A shudder clawed up Raz's spine. "I don't think I want to see the asylum again. That place gave me the creeps."

"Unless you think we'll find a tower in the middle of a cave, I don't think you have to worry about that."

Raz considered telling him that he'd seen that tower twice—once in the Brain Tumbler experiment and once in Loboto's mind previously, but decided against it. Instead he shook his head, moving further down the tunnel. It continued to grow narrower and narrower until they could no longer stand side-by-side. Meanwhile, the atmosphere of the cave was growing more and more humid, the walls becoming slick with moisture and the sound of water dripping constantly surrounding them. It wasn't, he realized, all that different from the atmosphere of Thorney Towers itself, with its proximity to the lake making it consistently humid, at least, from what Raz had seen.

But... it was a cave. Unless something changed up ahead, it seemed this place had given up all attempts at displaying itself as anything other than a cave.

Just as Raz was about to bring this up to Oleander, the cave began to widen slightly, and the sound of rapid footfalls echoed in their direction. They stopped in their tracks as a mental figure of a woman with blue skin and a flowing purple dress stormed up to them, her fists clenched and glowing with pyrokinetic energy. "There you are!" she snarled. "Did you think you could just run away after that?!"

"Uh, no! Of course not!" Raz exclaimed, subconsciously dropping into a psychic pose. "I was just—"

"You've ruined this for me, Caligosto!" the woman cried, and without warning, swung her fist forward. Rather than a psi-punch, she unleashed a fireball, which Raz had to throw himself against the wall to avoid. "You're lucky I don't set this whole place ablaze!"

"Look," Oleander said, his attempt at Loboto's voice faltering somewhat. "I can make it up to you—"

"How?! Your twisted torture methods muted my captive! Now I have to dive through his mind myself to extract the information!"

Raz took a moment to wonder how that might've happened, and immediately wished he hadn't.

"I can... pay you for your time?" Oleander offered with a shrug.

"Oh, you'll pay, all right!" With that, she lobbed another fireball, this time at the Coach, who tossed up a psi-shield around himself and Raz.

The fireball exploded upon contact, nearly blinding them as the intense flames roared over the shield. Raz ducked down and threw his hands over his helmet, for all the good it would do, until the sound finally died down. When he looked up, the woman was gone, and their surroundings were charred black.

Hesitantly Oleander dismissed the psi-shield, shakily lowering his hands. "I knew he got mixed up with some dangerous ones..." he muttered.

"I mean... it's not like we didn't see what Gristol did to him," Raz pointed out. "He was trying to take over the world."

"Yeah, him n' everyone else," Oleander grumbled. After taking a moment to listen and make sure no other furious pyromaniacs came charging at them, he signaled Raz onward and resumed walking down the tunnel. "Forward march, but be careful about it."

"Not like we have much of a choice." Frowning, Raz cast a glance around the narrow tunnel as it led them in a steady decline. "Where else are we supposed to go?"

"I'm just saying to proceed with caution, soldier!" the Coach snapped. "You saw what we just dealt with! He's been gettin' involved with more and more dangerous criminals all the time. After that lunatic, who knows what else we could run into!"

"Hey!" called a familiar yet high-pitched voice from up ahead. "Where d'you think you're going?!"

Oleander stopped dead in his tracks, and Raz edged out from behind him to see what they were up against this time. He blinked when he didn't immediately see anything.

"Up here, shorty!"

In spite of the insistence of the voice, it was definitely coming from lower to the ground. Looking down, Raz froze upon finding himself face-to-face with...

...a very, very short version of Coach Oleander.

The mental figure stood shorter than Raz, and less than half of Oleander's actual height. He was dressed in camouflage army fatigues, and his face was flushed red in fury, his fists clenched at his sides. Glancing back at the real Coach, Raz found him in an identical pose, with his face turning a remarkably similar color. His eye twitched.

"Wha'd'you think you're lookin' at, Cal?" the mini-Oleander said, jabbing a tiny finger at the real Oleander. "You'd better not be thinkin' I'm short! Even though I definitely am, and I am extremely insecure about it and very easy to make fun of!"

Raz looked between the two Oleanders a few times as the real Coach's face turned a deeper and deeper red, wondering if he should intervene. But before he could do anything, Oleander took a deep breath, his face returning to its proper color, and then straightened his back, placing one hand on his hip. "Of course not!" he said with his spot-on Loboto impression. "I would never dream of making fun of such a handsome man of such reasonable height! Especially when I myself am such a hideously massive height, I cause car accidents due to my mismatched eyes getting mistaken for traffic signals!"

Immediately Raz covered his mouth to swallow back his laughter. This was a serious mission!

The tiny Oleander seemed taken aback, but went on, "Oh, I wish I were so tall as you! Then I wouldn't get walked all over by the Psychonauts! Truly my incredibly short height is the only reason for that!"

"That's not—!" the Coach blurted, only to clear his throat and regain his composure. He resumed speaking in Loboto's voice: "Well, at least you have normal interests, like rabbits and psychic weaponry! How I wish I could have such wonderful and fulfilling hobbies, instead of my disgusting obsession with teeth and brains!"

"You forgot my awful music tastes and my even worse karaoke skills!"

"Yeah?! Well you forgot your—uh, my awful people skills and alarmingly violent tendencies!"

"You're one to talk about violent tendencies when I was the one who tried to take over the world!"

"YEAH?! WELL YOU—"

Raz stared at the two, deadpan. "Okay this was funny at first, but now it's just sad." Sighing, he walked between the two of them to get around the miniature Coach, who didn't seem to be acting as a roadblock. "I'm gonna keep going."

"Move ahead, soldier, I just gotta get this out of my system," Oleander whispered as he passed.

"Got it."

"Where was I... oh, right." After clearing his throat, Oleander's Loboto impression resumed: "And you—er—I couldn't even sing half as well as you, I bet!"

Rolling his eyes, Raz followed the tunnel where it curved away from the tiny mental figure. It struck him that Oleander was one of the last people Loboto had worked with, with the exception of one other person. With that realization, a deep chill came over him, and not just from the thought alone. A cold wind whistled through the tunnel, and Raz pressed through it to find himself in a much wider cavern... and staring up at a pair of brilliant yellow eyes that he had never wished to see again.

Yelping, Raz scrambled backwards as the eyes bored into him. "No, no! You're not supposed to be here anymore!" he cried. His breathing picked up rapidly as his heart hammered in his chest.

The eyes continued to stare at him, and a quiet laugh echoed throughout the cave, along with the rushing of distant water.

"No, no no no, not again..." Raz ducked his head and covered it with his hands, shivering. "Nona, please, you can't do this again, please..."

It was several moments before he realized nothing was happening. Slowly he raised his head, finding the eyes were still there, but... taking a few steps closer, he realized that's all they were—a pair of disembodied eyes and a transparent, shadowy form, suspended within a vast, dark cavern.

...Or not-so-vast. The path continued along a bend, and on one side of it was a deep crevasse. There was a wall just behind it that was shrouded in shadows, making the cavern seem deeper than it really was. There may have been water deep within the crack in the earth, or it could have just been some sound conjured up by Loboto's mind. Either way, this obviously wasn't the real Maligula—only the shadow of a memory of her... or something to that effect. Loboto hadn't seen the real thing, had he?

"Yes, she's terrifying, isn't she, Caligosto?"

The hair stood on the back of Raz's neck.

Tearing his gaze away from glowing eyes, he turned to find someone standing in the middle of the path. Wearing shadowy robes and his oversized crown was Gristol Malik, who eyed Raz with a nasty grin. "Terrifying, yet loyal to me, the crowned prince of Grulovia."

"My Nona's not loyal to you," Raz said lowly. "She's not gonna hurt anyone like you wanted her to."

"Oh, but she will." Gristol took several strides toward him, glowering down at him. "And she'll drown you for sure if you keep up with that attitude, doctor."

As he drew closer, Raz stepped forward with a challenging glare... and then the smell hit him, shocking him out of his anger. He stumbled back, coughing and gagging at the overly-strong fish smell, which was somehow worse than the scent of the mutant fish they'd encountered earlier. "YEESH, what is that?!"

"The caviar, of course!" Gristol reached into his coat, pulling out an enormous open tin of caviar. Some of it spilled on the ground as he waved it in front of himself, and visible clouds of stench wafted off the clearly-rancid food. "Would you like some?"

"Augh! No!" Raz cried, shoving the tin away.

"Hmph! More for me, then." Gristol drew the tin closer to himself and pulled a spoon out of another part of his robes. "The best eggs are stolen from poor unsuspecting fish in the ocean, you know!" With that, he began messily shoveling the rotten fish eggs into his mouth.

That seemed out of character for Gristol... but, of course, it wasn't him. "Right... mental figures," Raz muttered under his breath. While the mental figure of Gristol was stuffing his face with expired food, Raz crept around him. "If you can hear me, Loboto, keep your memory of Gristol just like that." Before he left the area, he cast one last glance back at the shadow of Maligula, whose piercing gaze was still fixed on him. "And—" his voice caught, and he shook his head. "Forget her entirely."

Finally he turned away, eager to leave both Loboto's and his own memories of those two behind. Feeling too heavy to summon a lev ball, he broke into a run, charging headlong through the cave, wherever it took him. He didn't care to pay too much attention to his surroundings—anywhere was better than there.

After what felt like an age of running blindly, Raz bashed his right shoulder against the cave wall, and cried out, stumbling to a halt. He braced himself against the wall, grasping his shoulder, his chest heaving as he gasped for air, only to freeze. While he was finally away from that awful rotten fish smell, there was another smell present in this part of the cave... a metallic smell. Lifting his head, he gave a start as he realized just how narrow the tunnel had become. Moisture—some liquid that he swore was darker and thicker than water—occasionally dripped from the ceiling, and the rocks and earth that comprised it shifted occasionally, as though they were seconds from caving in. His breathing quickened as he started to back away, but that only made the metallic smell overwhelm him all the more, bringing back dizzying memories of raw meat and sharpened cleavers and rising water.

How far had he gone? Where was he now? Hadn't Gristol been the last client Loboto had dealt with? Or had they gone further back into his past this time? This part of the cave was so twisted, it was hard to tell. He opened his mouth to voice his questions to Oleander, only for the realization to jolt through him that the Coach wasn’t there.

Feeling the blood rush from his face, Raz spun around. "Coach—?!"

Something was blocking his path.

"In a hurry now, doctor?" it said in a low growl.

Raz looked up, up, up at a figure that towered over him. It was too dark to make out any features—he could only see that the man was nearly as tall as Loboto, and that his eyes were glaring directly down at him. "I-I'm sorry," he stammered, stumbling back. "I am. I'm really sorry." What about, he didn't know; he felt lightheaded, his stomach was turning, and his legs were starting to feel like jelly.

"Of course you're sorry now. If you'd been quicker about things earlier, none of this would have happened."

"I'll—I'll be quicker now, I promise." He had no idea what he was saying or what was being referred to, feeling too awful to argue. "P-please let me get back to it, sir."

"Very well," the man said. "I think you've learned your lesson, after all. Just know, however, if you let us down one more time..." He bent down until his eyes were level with Raz's. A hand shot out and snagged Raz's shoulder, and he could suddenly feel the man's smoky breath on his face. "...I may not be kind enough to repeat that lesson."

The figure forcibly turned him around and let go, and Raz ran. He had no idea where he was going at this point, and the tunnel was growing even more painfully narrow and suffocating, to the point where he couldn't run, but had to shuffle carefully, edging between the narrow walls. At the very least the metallic scent was gone, but that was all he could say for this place. He wished he could turn back and find Oleander, but not knowing if that terrifying mental figure was still there, he could only press onward.

Clank—shhhffft... clank—shhhffft.... clank—shfffft...

The repetitive noise made him pause.

Just up ahead he could see something teal and brown sticking out of the floor. Clods of dirt kicked up behind it every so often. As Raz crept closer, he recognized the memory vault, which was caked in dirt and steadily digging into the ground as though trying to bury itself. The path finally ended here, or looked like it might; beyond the vault, the cave narrowed to the point where no human could squeeze through, though with the way the earth around him felt like it was shifting, he wondered if it might open up at some point.

The memory vault, meanwhile, perked its ears as it sensed his approach. Immediately said ears drooped as it turned around, giving him a terrified, pitiful look before resuming its work, digging even faster than before.

"Sorry, Loboto," Raz murmured as he pulled back a fist. "I know you're probably not gonna like this, but..."

With one psi-punch, the memory vault was knocked off its feet, and it subsequently coughed a stereoscope up out of the hole it had been digging. Raz stooped down to pick it up, hesitating only for a moment before peering into it.

"Loboto: Disarmed!" read the first slide.

The second showed Loboto in his lab in Thorney Towers, sitting at a desk and glaring down at a paper that read "EASIER DE-BRAINING METHODS??" with nothing underneath. He held his head in his hands—two hands, Raz noted. Behind him, a figure like the one Raz had just gotten away from was approaching him.

In the third slide, the man held out a paper reading "Anti-Psychic Weapon" with some concept drawings beneath, and with his other hand, pointed at a calendar on the wall, indicating a specific date—the 30th of the month. The days crossed out on the calendar indicated that it was currently the third.

In the fourth slide, Loboto was holding the paper in his left hand and holding up his right, giving the man a confident "not a problem!" look.

The next slide showed several images, each with the calendar in view and the 30th circled: one image of Loboto talking to Oleander, another of Loboto holding up Mr. Pokeylope and saying something to Sheegor, and another of Loboto grinding at a mortar and pestle on his workbench, the weapon plans sitting forgotten, and the calendar date indicating that the other project was due tomorrow.

The slide after that showed Loboto in a dark room, meeting with the other client, who held out his hand. Loboto, meanwhile, held up his own hands, looking nervous and apologetic.

In the next slide, a telekinetic hand held Loboto against a table as the man hovered over him, looking infuriated, while Loboto in turn looked horrified.

The next showed another telekinetic hand holding Loboto's right wrist and pulling it off to the side, while a wicked-looking saw hovered over him.

The final slide showed—

Raz dropped the stereoscope, his earlier dizziness hitting him full force as he stumbled and fell back against the wall, his stomach turning. Coach, he thought frantically. Coach Oleander, where are you? Please...

It wasn't long before he heard a voice down the tunnel he'd come from: "Rrrghhh stupid caves—!"

BAM!

A green psi-punch slammed through the narrow walls, widening them enough for Oleander to squeeze through. "I know I shouldn't expect accessibility on the battlefield, but sheesh!" he growled, dusting off his hands before turning to Raz. "I didn't mean for you to go this far without me, private! What were you..." He faltered.

Raz wasn't entirely sure how he looked, but it must've been bad judging by the way the Coach’s face softened.

"Raz?" he asked, kneeling down and placing a hand on his shoulder. "You all right? Talk to me, soldier."

"I..." Raz swallowed down the sick feeling that was welling up his throat. "I don't think Loboto wanted anyone to see this..."

Oleander's brows furrowed. "I told you, soldier, no secrets in wartime." But when he looked over at the discarded stereoscope, he frowned. "Huh. Actually..." He picked it up and clicked through the slides. "Yeesh, how many clients did this guy take on at the same time? No wonder he took so long to..." Another click, and he went quiet, followed by a few more clicks. "...oh..."

"Is... is th-that it?" Raz stammered, looking at Oleander as he sat next to him. "The thing you didn't want to tell me?"

"...Yes and no," Oleander said, staring down at the pit the memory vault had been digging. "I knew he'd replaced his arm with that awful prosthetic, but I... I thought he'd... done it to himself. And if he was crazy enough to do that to himself... what would he do to hurt someone else?"

"W-well... now you know that's not what happened. So you don't have to see him like that anymore, right?"

The Coach shook his head. "No, soldier... you don't understand." Holding out his hands, he gestured vaguely. "I know the truth now, but I thought differently then. And... here's the thing. When you have allies you don't know if you can really trust in wartime, you, uh... have to make... plans... in case things don't really work out."

"Plans?" Raz raised his head. "But what plans did you have to—" He paused as the memories came rushing back. "...Ohhh. Right, you had Boyd blow up the tower."

Oleander jumped, turning to Raz and making a cutting sign near his throat. Meanwhile, the cave shifted audibly around them, seeming to groan, but Raz didn't immediately notice.

"It's okay," he said, holding up his hands. "I know you wouldn't do something like that again." Thinking for a moment, he sighed. "I guess I wouldn't have much room to say anything against you for that, anyway, since I was kinda the one that helped Mr. Pokeylope with that plan to blast him out the window."

"Raz!" Oleander hissed.

Before he could respond, the walls of the cave shook violently, and the ground split open beneath them.

Raz and Oleander dropped through the earth into an open free-fall, clumps of dirt and rocks falling down along with them as the rumbling of the cave turned into an all-out roar. Frantically Raz whipped out a thought bubble, grabbing it for dear life, while Oleander zipped past him. "COACH!" he cried, reaching out toward him as he dropped down out of sight.

Above the roar of the earth around them came a pained, enraged howl, and Raz had to think for a moment to place it. Psychic wolverines...? he thought, and then his blood ran cold. No... Loboto.

"I KNEW IT!" Loboto's voice screamed over the sound of crashing rock and collapsing tunnels. "I KNEW IT WAS ALL LIES!"

"L-Loboto?!" Raz called out. "What are you talking about—AGH!" His thought bubble popped, sending him back into a freefall, only for something to catch him. "What the—"

"Got you!" Oleander called, wrapping his TK hand around Raz and lowering him to the ground. "You okay, soldier?"

"I guess, but—AH!"

A boulder crashed next to them, and Oleander pulled Raz to his side, putting a psi-shield over the both of them.

"LYING LITTLE BRAT!" Loboto screamed, but from where, neither of them could tell; the destruction all around them made it hard to see, and his voice seemed to come from everywhere. Said voice, while enraged, took on a wounded edge as he wailed: "I TRUSTED YOU...!"

"Loboto!" Raz called out. "I-I'm sorry! I didn't mean—"

"DIDN'T MEAN IT?! NO, NO! OF COURSE, YOU MEANT NONE OF THAT, NONE OF WANTING TO HELP ME...!" Another wordless wail echoed through the destruction of the cave around them. "I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN—I ALWAYS KNEW—PSYCHICS RUIN EVERYTHING!"

Several more boulders collapsed to the ground around them, one and then another striking Oleander's shield directly.

"EVERYTHING!"

Raz and Oleander huddled close as they waited out the chaos around them. By the time the Coach's psi-shield fizzled out, it finally stopped, leaving them in an eerie silence. Neither of them spoke as they gazed at their surroundings—they were now in some enormous underground cavern deep beneath the cave system they'd been in before. All around them were cracked rocks and boulders and enormous clumps of dirt, but the place seemed empty otherwise. And off in the distance... was Loboto, his back turned to them, his head in his hands.

"There!" Oleander whispered, and Raz broke off in a run toward him. "Wait—!"

"Loboto!" Raz called, and immediately a massive tooth jutted up out of the ground, blocking his path. Multiple other teeth erupted out of the ground until they could no longer see the doctor. "Loboto, please, we just want to talk!"

"Talk?" Loboto's voice boomed over them. "Dear Razputin, I think I've heard enough of your talking."

The floor shook again, and several massive objects wreathed in purple psychic light hovered up into the air above them. Craning his head back, Raz was able to make out a giant syringe, bone saw, dental drill, dental hook, mallet, and ice pick, among other things.

"Now, I want to hear you scream!"

Raz took several steps back. "C-coach...?"

"Yeah, I see it!" Oleander scrambled up to Raz's side.

"Do we have a battle plan?" Raz asked, glancing back at the Coach warily.

As if on cue, Loboto cackled from somewhere within the cave, and the giant mallet overhead came flying at them.

"Yeah, I got one! RETREAT!" With that, the Coach dove out of the way as the hammer struck the ground between him and Raz, who crashed backwards from the force of the impact.

"Oof! Okay, let's NOT do that again." Raz glared at the oversized tool, reaching out with TK to try to grab the handle.

"Hands off!" Loboto cried, and the hammer was yanked away. "Leave this to the professionals!"

"We've gotta do something, though...!" Raz moved to Oleander's side, finding him glaring up at the tools above them. "Do you have any real plan, here?"

"Not at the moment." His eyes widened as the bone saw came flying at them this time, and he yanked Raz out of the way as the teeth of the instrument dug jagged holes in the cave floor beside them. "AGH!"

"What's that?" Loboto taunted. "I can't hear you! Please say 'aaaah'!"

This time, the dental pick took a swing at them, and they both dropped to the floor, hands over their heads as it whooshed over them, leaving a nasty dent in one of the nearby molars.

Oleander was the first to his feet and helped Raz up. Seeing the bone saw and dental hook raise back up into the air, he heaved a sigh. "I should've known this would happen..."

Something flared up within Raz's chest, and he stomped his foot. "Knock it off!" he snapped. "You've just been fighting with him the whole time! How's that supposed to help?!"

"I know!" Oleander cried, hands on his head. "That's what I'm saying—if I'd been... rrrghh..." He grit his teeth. "Slightly nicer, maybe he wouldn't have snapped like this..."

Softening, Raz nodded. "I think he was close to a breaking point anyway... Just wish it was a breakthrough and not a breakdown!"

The Coach perked up, looking over at the tooth that the hook had struck. "Breakthrough... that's it!" he whispered. "If we can break through these dental barriers, maybe we can get through to him! It'd be too risky to use these giant weapons in close proximity to himself!"

"Good thinking!" Raz turned to face one of the teeth that was sticking out of the ground and held his fist back to ready a psi-punch, only to wince. "Ugh, something about this just makes my skin crawl."

Oleander stood at Raz's side and held back his fist as well. "Gotta break a few teeth to make a knuckle sandwich! Ready?"

"Guess I'll have to be..."

"GO!"

The combined psi-punches smashed into the oversized tooth, shattering it with an audible crash. Deeper within the cavern, Loboto snarled. "What are you doing?! That was terrible dental work! And you're only proving my point!"

"You said psychics ruin everything, not break everything!" Raz retorted.

"Ruining, breaking, incisors, incissors."

"Who in the sam hill says 'incissors?'" Oleander muttered.

"The point is, you're wrecking everything! I'm going to need backup!"

Half a moment later, several pairs of footfalls began weaving around between the giant teeth, followed by a chorus of "NO"s. Five Censors came into view, each of them wearing plain white collared shirts and medical masks.

"Great, of course he had to call in the hygienists to clean up for him," Oleander grumbled.

"Go knock out some more of those teeth—I'll take care of these guys!"

"Hey, a senior agent doesn't take orders from juniors!" the Coach retorted, but hurried up to a nearby incisor regardless.

Meanwhile, Raz fell into a psychic pose, focusing on the oncoming Censors. Once they were close enough, he fired a psi-blast at them, which ricocheted off two of them before flying over and blasting into the tooth Oleander was swinging a psi-punch at. When the remaining three Censors saw the combined powers shatter the tooth, they switched their targets over to Oleander instead.

"Oh no you don't!" Raz hopped up onto a lev ball and barreled toward the Censors, bowling over them before they could reach the Coach.

"Stop it!" Loboto cried. "I should've numbed you first!" With that, the syringe overhead zipped downward in Raz's direction.

With a yelp he made to leap out of the way, only for the tip of the syringe to nick him in the arm regardless. Initially he cried out from the sharp pain, only to groan as it was almost immediately taken over by intense dizziness and nausea. "Uuuughhh..." He attempted to stumble toward Oleander, only for his feet to take him in a completely different direction, sending him careening into a nearby molar. If he hadn't been wearing his helmet, he probably would've seen stars from bashing his head against the enamel.

"Snap out of it, soldier!" Oleander commanded, grabbing him by the shoulder via TK and hoisting him back up to his feet. "We're almost out of here!"

"Uughhh..." Shaking his head, Raz attempted to rid himself of the dizziness. "R-right, sorry..." Once the tooth-infested cave stopped spinning around him, he followed Oleander up to a premolar. "How do you know this is the right way?"

"This is the direction we saw him before he brought in his dental work," Oleander whispered. "I think if we can get past just this last one, we should be able to get to him!"

Nodding, Raz pulled back his fist, reading a psi-punch, and the Coach did the same. Together they swung their punches, and the tooth shattered, allowing them to pass through... to...

"That... wasn't there earlier."

Before them was a large lake smack in the middle of the cavern, and in the middle of that, a small island covered in rubble.

Raz crossed the yard or so to the shoreline, the toes of his shoes touching the water. "Coach, you don't happen to have your, uh, mono-propulsor, do you?"

"Nope," the Coach answered, stepping up to Raz's side and glancing over at him. "Learned to swim, by chance?"

"Uhh, nope." Raz sized up the distance between the shoreline and the island—definitely farther than he'd ever tried bouncing off of his hydrokinesis. "I... think we may have a problem."

To punctuate his point, a deep "NO" sounded from behind them, and they whipped back around. Five Heavy Censors, also dressed in hygienist outfits, were trying to squeeze out from between the gap in the teeth that Oleander and Raz had made.

"You can say that again!" Oleander cried.

"Nah, I'm good!" Raz responded, taking several steps back until his feet sloshed into the water. Looking back at the lake warily, he swallowed. "Okay," he began, "so I'm still working on my hydrokinesis—"

"Your what—?!"

"I know, it's new to me too—but I think if I can get it to hold me above the water for more than a few seconds, maybe it can carry the both of us across the lake!"

Oleander stared at him deadpan. "Hope you packed a parachute for a jump like that, kid."

"I gotta try something—"

"The battlefield's not the place for practice, soldier!"

"You got any better ideas?!"

"NO!" the Censors behind them answered, finally squeezing through the gap.

Needing no further encouragement, Raz leaped forward into the water. Please catch me please catch me please catch me—

SQUELCH.

While initially relieved that he was not drowning, Raz winced as he shifted his feet. "Ugh, I don't remember the hand of Galochio being this squishy, or lumpy, or... stinky..."

"Get away!" Oleander cried from the shore, followed by a loud WHAM and an angry "no!" "MOVE IT! Raz, how are you holding—uhhh..."

Something gurgled below him, and he looked down to find the horrible lumpy fish they'd encountered earlier, now swimming in place beneath his feet. "Uh..."

The fish gurgled again, and Raz stared at it blankly.

Swinging another punch to block another of the oncoming Heavy Censors, Oleander called over his shoulder: "He says to move over!"

Raz stared at the lumpy fish for a moment before taking an awkward step back. The fish bubbled in satisfaction before warbling something again, this time a bit louder.

"If I'm hearing you right, then gladly!" the Coach exclaimed. With one more psi-punch striking a Heavy Censor square in the jaw, he knocked it backwards before turning around to face the water. He looked from the fish to his own feet a couple times, frantically muttering something about depth perception before lev-bouncing himself onto the fish. His boots squished against the lumpy back, but the fish didn't seem to mind. It gurgled happily as it swam them further into the lake, leaving the Heavy Censors watching them in confusion from the shoreline.

"HEY!" Loboto cried. "Have you come to betray me too?!"

The fish warbled something back, bubbles rising up around its face, and Oleander covered the sides of Raz's helmet.

Meanwhile, Loboto gave an affronted gasp. "LANGUAGE!"

Raz was about to protest that he couldn't understand the fish anyway, when Loboto continued:

"I'll need to wash out your brain for that one!"

"You mean his mouth, right?" Raz asked, pulling Oleander's hands away.

Overhead, the hammer and ice pick moved into position directly above them.

"No."

Raz and Oleander ducked down while the fish nearly dipped beneath the surface before thinking better of it. Meanwhile, the hammer struck against the ice pick, and the Coach tossed up a psi-shield at the last second. Even with his mental defenses as strong as they typically were, Raz felt him frantically hoping the shield would withstand the blow.

It didn't need to.

The giant ice pick hovered inches over the shield, shuddering. They watched it, eyes wide, as Loboto's voice stammered: "N... no, no... that's... n-no... n-not... the right... tool for the... for the job..."

Slowly the ice pick stilled, and the purple light surrounding both it and the hammer flickered. Oleander perked up and dug his heels into the fish. "Move it, move!" he urged, and the fish zipped away just as the giant tools crashed down into the water below, creating a wave that splashed over them. The fish stopped, and Raz and Oleander shivered, wiping at their faces for all the good it would do before slowly looking up to see the tools sinking into the water.

"...That was good, Loboto," Raz said, turning to face the island. "Those aren't tools you need to use... or tools that anyone should use."

The cave was silent around them, save for the gentle lapping of the water.

"...C'mon," Oleander said, nudging the fish. "It should be smooth sailing from here."

Just as the lumpy fish began moving again, a loud whine sounded from behind them... then another to the left, then to the right, then in front of them. Several sized-up toy pirate ships armed with cannons came sailing toward them, each piloted by a blue-colored Regret... a Deep Regret, specifically.

"Uh... Coach, Regrets are supposed to be a good thing, right?"

"Good for him... not for us!"

On cue, one of the Deep Regrets turned its ship's cannon toward them and fired a spiky weight. The fish warbled loudly and swerved out of the way, and the weight crashed into the water next to them. Electricity crackled over its surface before it exploded, sending up another jet of water.

"Shouldn't the water conduct the electricity?" Raz wondered, only for the Coach to cover his mouth.

"Don't question it—this is bad enough as it is!"

Raz looked from one boat to the other before perking up and shoving Oleander's hand away. "No... it's perfect!"

"What?!"

"Hey, fish friend," Raz said, crouching down to try to peer over the lumps and into the fish's eyes. "Get the attention of one of those ships and swim up to another!"

The fish gave an uncertain gurgle, but swam over to the nearest toy boat and warbled loudly. In response, the Deep Regret captain aimed its cannon toward them.

"Ahh, I see what you're doing," Oleander remarked, rubbing his chin. "Right, get over to another one of the boats, on the double! GO!"

Not needing to be told twice, the fish zipped across to the next nearest boat while the Deep Regret shut one eye, still trying to aim its cannon at them.

"Steady," Oleander said, while Raz watched the other Regret warily. It was also in the process of frantically loading its cannon to shoot at them. "Steady..."

The further Deep Regret fired the cannon, launching a spiky explosive in their direction.

"MOVE!" Oleander commanded, and the fish darted out of the way, leaving the projectile to crash directly into the other toy ship. The Deep Regret gave a wail of despair that quickly turned into a frantic stutter as the bomb exploded, electrocuting the bug. The boat, seemingly worthless without a captain, tipped onto its side and sank into the water.

"Hah, now that's what I call a bug zapper!" Raz exclaimed.

The fish groaned.

"Aw, who asked you?" After waving the fish's disapproval off, he pointed toward one of the other boats. "Now let's try this again!"

"Not sure the friendly fire'll work a second time," Oleander said, and Raz noticed that the other Deep Regrets seemed to be panicking. "It gave those Regrets some regrets of their own, and I dunno if they'll be repeating that mistake, at least not that easily."

"What else are we supposed to do?"

It seemed the fish had an idea, as it once again took off toward one of the ships. Instead of swimming in place, however, it began to zip around it in circles.

"Ooohh, stupid Navy, never gave me the chance to get my sea legs...!" Oleander whined, crouching down on the fish and grabbing one of its too-many fins for support. While Raz did the same, he kept his gaze on the Deep Regret, which was steering the boat to try to follow them. The fish moved faster and faster, the Regret trying more and more frantically to keep up with them, the boat tilting to the side as it strained to move in circles. After a few more loops, the boat tipped completely over, the Deep Regret's whines soon turning into gargles as it sank beneath the water with its toy vessel.

Raz felt a bit dizzy as the fish slowed to a stop, but he couldn't help but remark: "Guess that captain went down with its ship!" When the fish beneath him gurgled in agreement, he grinned. "Now we've just got—"

"LOOK OUT!"

Raz spun around at the Coach's words, and had just enough time to realize that while they'd been pulling this maneuver, one of the other boats had come closer, and was now practically on top of them. Before either he or the fish had time to react, the Deep Regret fired its cannon.

Oleander tossed up a shield around himself, Raz, and the fish beneath them, but the impact of the electric bomb fired in close proximity caused all of them to rock wildly in the water. Staggering backward, the Coach inadvertently released the shield and bumped into Raz, whose dizziness made it harder for him to keep balance on the slimy body of the fish.

"Wait, wait, no—!" he cried, slipping backward off the fish and into the water.

"RA—"

The roar of water filled his ears, and something grabbed his leg.

It's okay, it's okay, it's just the hand of Galochio, Raz thought, trying to will the hand to bring him back up as it had started to do recently.

It yanked him lower.

No, no, no—! Frantically Raz waved his arms, trying to pull himself higher in the water, but something grabbed the edge of his coat instead, pulling him down further. He looked down, and panic bolted up his spine.

A dozen or more red-and-yellow swirling eyes gleamed up at him from the depths of the lake, and a dozen tiny hands reached up through the water toward him.

Doubts, he remembered. Of course Loboto had doubts, but Raz could definitely get rid of these. All he had to do was...

...was...

Luckily, they're highly flammable!

Lili's voice normally made Raz feel lighter, but now the memory of her words were like weights yanking him down as realization dawned upon him.

COACH! he cried out over telepathy, swinging his arms and kicking his free leg as he tried to reach the surface again. HELP!

But the Doubts were closing in, slinking ever closer, more of their hands reaching upward, their gaping mouths stretching open wider, surrounding him with their hellish glows. Looking back down, Raz pressed a hand to his temple and fired several desperate psi-blasts at the mental constructs, which didn't even flinch on contact. Something squeezed his wrist, and he yelped, eyes bulging as water gushed down his throat.

This isn't real, this isn't real, this isn't real, some distant part of him tried to remind himself, but all he could feel was the water around him and the hands dragging him lower. His lungs were burning and his vision was starting to fade, but as it did, he found himself turning to see the eyes of the last Doubt that had grabbed him, now staring directly into his own. The dark depths of the water and bubbles and even the other Doubts faded, leaving nothing but those red-and-yellow lights staring into him.

The world grew bright in a sudden green flash.

The dark lab was briefly illuminated in the psychic light from the psi-blast as the scale model of the brain tank fired at Dr. Loboto. Raz, invisible on the other side of the room, covered his mouth to hide his gasp as Loboto was knocked backwards out the open window, screaming for what felt like an age, the shrieks growing quieter and quieter until Raz could no longer hear them.

Finally, that's over with, came a deep voice from the brain tank, while Raz continued to stare on in horror.

A wail from outside the lab announced Sheegor's arrival as she rushed over to the window, oven mitts gripping the edge. "Doctor!" she cried. "He's—he's really...?!"

It's all right, baby, Mr. Pokeylope soothed. We did what had to be done.

"D... did we?" Raz found himself stammering as he allowed himself to become visible once again.

Somehow he knew this wasn't how he'd felt at the time—he remembered feeling lighter now that that creepy doctor was out of the way. He remembered feeling like he was living one of the True Psychic Tales adventures, having defeated his very own psychic (or, well, anti-psychic) super-villain. He remembered leaving Pokeylope to reassure Sheegor while he snagged the jars containing Sasha and Milla's brains and hurried them upstairs, ecstatic to be able to rescue his heroes and tell them everything he'd done.

But now, while Sheegor carefully worked to re-brain her turtle friend, Raz found himself gazing around the lab. He could see burn marks he'd previously failed to notice coating one cracked wall, while in another corner near the workshop, he could see a calendar with circular red ink stains where a marker had bled through from a previous page. And again he saw the brain tank model, now in a totally new light, knowing that the Coach had planned to murder his partner in crime once he was done with him.

His gaze turned upward to the tools suspended from the ceiling. He could see the drill, a bone saw, a syringe, a hammer, ones he had seen hovering above his head in giant form... and in their reflective metal surfaces, he could see the red gleam of his own goggles staring back at him, glowing aggressively in the dark lab.

Shuddering, Raz yanked his helmet off and stared down at it, but the goggle lenses weren't glowing—they looked the same as always. But he stared back up at the instruments—some being ones that Loboto had once longed to use for their intended purpose—then at the scorch marks, the calendar, and the brain tank. Finally he turned back to the helmet in his hands, which were trembling.

"I didn't know," he said quietly. "I... I thought I was being a hero."

He looked up again. Sheegor and Pokeylope were gone, and Loboto was standing in the middle of the lab again, staring down at a brain in his hands.

"I helped everyone else—everyone I could, anyway... but not you. Not back then."

Loboto turned slightly to the left, his optics flicking in the same direction, but still not facing him. When Raz took a few steps closer, he flinched away.

"You—you were trying to steal my brain, but... so was Linda, and Coach, and... and I just... I'm sorr—"

The silence of the lab was shattered by an earsplitting roar.

Raz shuddered and gasped, then coughed around a sticky, sugary candy taste in his mouth. His jacket was soaked and his hands were struggling to grasp at the scaly gray surface beneath him.

"Remember your own rations next time, soldier!" Oleander snarled, tossing a wadded-up plastic wrapper into the water. He then lifted his helmet, water pouring out from beneath it, and shook his head. His face softened. "Are you okay?"

After taking a second to swallow down the rest of the Dream Fluff that had been shoved into his mouth, Raz took another breath. His lungs were no longer burning, and if it weren't for his sopping wet clothes he would question whether or not he really had even been close to drowning earlier. "I... I think...?" Slowly he took in his surroundings, realizing he was back in the cavern and atop the mutant fish friend again. This time, though, there were no Deep Regrets piloting toy pirate boats in the lake. "Where did...?"

"Had to take them out first. Sorry it took us so long to get to you." Oleander rubbed his face before glaring down into the water. Raz followed his gaze, only to stumble back when he saw the dim yellow glow deep within the waters below. Immediately Oleander grabbed his arm, giving him a hard look. "Let's not do a repeat rescue mission! Dang Doubts—whose idea was it to put those blasted things in water?"

The fish gargled something, and Oleander nodded. "Yeah, good plan. Let's get out of here."

With that, they approached the small island in the center of the lake. Only the sound of water lapping the shoreline greeted them, the cavern eerily silent otherwise. As they stepped off the fish, it gave one last gurgle before turning around and disappearing into the lake.

"No turning back now," Raz murmured, and the Coach nodded grimly. After watching the ripples fade, the two turned to face the island. It was small—Raz was pretty sure he could circle it in less than a minute on his lev ball—and covered in rubble that instantly brought Thorney Towers to mind. Most of it was piled up in the center, but it seemed deserted otherwise. "...Loboto? Are you there?"

Nothing answered.

"Dang, don't tell me we fought our way across this lake only to get to the wrong place," Oleander said, crossing his arms and walking toward the rubble in the center. "Could be under here, but I doubt it. C'mon."

Raz followed the Coach to the pile, but just as the two of them pulled their fists back, a voice echoed from beneath the wreckage:

"I'm surprised, Morry!"

Oleander froze, sweat trickling down the back of his neck.

"This is where you wanted me, isn't it?!"

All at once the floor began to quake, shaking the rubble and jostling several pieces of stone loose. Raz and Oleander staggered backward, Raz managing a weak shield to deflect some of the rocks until Oleander created a stronger shield as larger ones started falling. The pile of wreckage was rising upward—or, rather, something was rising up from beneath it. A massive form became visible as more and more of the rubble fell away, revealing something that was larger than the wreckage covering it in the first place: a full-sized brain tank, ready to roar into action.

"Oh no, not again!" Raz and Oleander cried simultaneously. Raz's head snapped over to look at the Coach incredulously, but before he could question that, a familiar cackle filled the air.

"I thought you'd be happy to see your brain child again, Morry!" a voice from the top of the tank exclaimed. Looking up, they found Loboto himself sitting atop the tank, patting the machine with his left hand and grinning down at them. "And now the two of you are going to get all the attention from it!"

A powder shot directly out of the tank, spraying over Raz and Oleander, whose eyes widened. "No!" Raz exclaimed, plugging his nose. "C-can't... sneeze... now...!"

The Coach covered the front of his face, eyes watering as he struggled to keep his sneeze back. "I c—I caaaa... aaaaaa... AAAH—"

"CHOO!"

Both of them sneezed simultaneously, then frantically looked around. "Hey... I've still got my brain!" Raz exclaimed.

"Yeah, so do I." Oleander scratched the top of his helmet in bewilderment, only to look deadpan. "...Right, how are we supposed to lose our brains when we're usin' 'em to access this bozo's mind?"

"Humph, it was worth a shot," Loboto muttered, then grinned. "At least this should work!" At once the front of the tank glowed, and Raz and Oleander dove in opposite directions to dodge the psi-blast, which left a smoking crater in the ground where they'd once stood.

"Rrrgh, I didn't wanna see that thing again!" Oleander cried, scrambling to his feet. "I've seen enough of it in my nightmares!"

"What a coincidence!" Loboto shot back, his mouth twisting in a bitter smile. The tank turned to face the Coach. "So have I."

An enormous, transparent-purple, clawed hand materialized next to the tank, grabbing a chunk of rubble and lobbing it at Oleander, who managed to block it with a psi-shield.

Raz hurried to Oleander's side, fighting the urge to psi-blast the tank. "Leave him alone! He doesn't want to hurt you anymore!"

"Oh, please, I've heard that one before," Loboto snarled. Another psi-blast fired from the front of the tank, and Raz and Oleander found themselves bolting in opposite directions once again.

"Loboto, please, I mean it!" Raz said, holding up his hands. "We've both made mistakes—"

"MISTAKES!" Loboto cried, throwing his head back with a humorless laugh. "Yes, mistakenly trying to kill someone! Isn't that right?!" The tank whirred as it turned on Raz this time, the front of it glowing once more.

But it wasn't the threat of another super-powered psi-blast that was making a lump form inside Raz's throat. He struggled to swallow it down. "No," he said. "It wasn't right at all."

The tank shuddered, the brain case at the front flickering. "What's that?" Loboto said, his robotic eyes turning down toward Raz.

"I-I shouldn't have agreed to the plan. I should've just... gone into your mind like I did with the others, and figured out what was going on. I never even thought about giving you a fair chance."

For a moment Loboto's optics flickered, only to flare brighter. "Ah, yes, of course you would say something like that when faced with this!"

Without further warning, the tank fired another psi-blast, and Raz dropped into a dodge roll. "But I said it before, too!" he cried, holding up his hands again as Loboto re-focused the weapon. When the dentist paused, Raz took a hesitant step closer. "Or I was trying to, anyway."

Loboto tore his gaze away, optics twitching off to the side.

"You heard it, didn't you?" Raz went on. "When I talked to you... It was after you tried to drown me in Doubts... but you couldn't."

Loboto flinched, then snapped his head back over to Raz, lips pulled back in snarl. "No, but I can blast you to pieces now!" Pounding on the tank with his fist, he fired another psi-blast, which Raz barely managed to dive away from. "Nnnngghhh stay still!" Several more psi-blasts fired, but Raz managed to leap out of the way of each one, silently thanking his father for training him in acrobatics.

A loud clunk from the opposite side of the tank interrupted the blasts, and Loboto turned the entire machine around. "What is it now?"

"Your tank's missing its brains," Oleander replied, clenching his fists. A green psychic hand hovered next to him.

"How's that?"

"Cuz I just did this!" With that, Oleander launched a psychic uppercut through the glass brain case, shattering it. "HAH—uh-oh—" And he shuddered audibly as the slimy green liquid from within the case sloshed out over him. "Eeeeugh!"

"Good to see you're finally taking a shower, army man!" Loboto taunted, drumming his claws against the tank. "You could definitely use it."

"Yeah," Oleander retorted, wiping the green goop off his face, "well you definitely can't use your tank anymore!"

To his surprise, a number of claws had sprung out of the tank to grip the brain within, holding it in place. Loboto leaned further over the tank to sneer down at Oleander. "Says who?"

Raz hurried up to Oleander, finding him staring up at the tank with his hands hanging at his sides. "Coach, are you okay?"

"Of course not!" Loboto snapped. "He's peeved that I'm able to use his precious tank far better than he ever could!"

"No," Oleander muttered, looking away. "I told you, Cal, I didn't want to see that thing again. That's... that's not something I want anything to do with anymore." He shook his head, then turned an accusing eye up to Loboto. "And I thought that's how you said you felt about brains!"

Loboto jerked back, his optics twitching from the brain at the front of the tank and back to Oleander.

Raz frowned; of course it wasn't a real brain, but the Coach had a good point. "You did tell us that, Loboto..."

Tugging at his showercap, Loboto looked one way, then another. He bit his lip before spinning the tank around, forcing the tank's mechanical claws to let the brain go and launching it out into the surrounding lake. It sailed over the darkened water before landing with a distant splash. The tank then turned around, Loboto dusting off his hands as he looked down into the shocked faces of Raz and Oleander. "There! No more brains."

"...Uh," Raz said, holding up a finger. "That's... not what—"

"Perfect!" Oleander interrupted with a wary smile. "Good work, soldier!"

"How was that good?" Raz whispered.

"Cuz now he can't use the—"

The claws at the front of the tank suddenly clamped together, and a glowing purple light focused within them.

"...tank."

With a high-pitched whine the psi-blast charged up, and Raz and Oleander split up once again to dive away from it.

Oleander crashed against some of the rubble as the blast fired just behind him. "Aaggghh...!" Rising to his feet, he wiped the dirt off his face and glared up at Loboto. "Look, Cal, neither of us want to fight you!"

"Really," Loboto said, resting his chin against his hand and regarding him with a deadpan expression.

"...Okay, the kid doesn't wanna fight you. But that's not the point—you've already agreed you're not gonna go about stealing brains anymore. Now all we want is for you to not cause more trouble! What've you got against that, huh?" He frowned up at Loboto, only for his eyes to widen and the color to drain from his face as the giant purple TK claw came swiping at him. Too late he tried to stumble backwards, and the claw snagged him and hoisted him into the air.

Meanwhile, Loboto glared at him from his seat atop the tank. "You wouldn't understand!"

"Coach!" Raz cried. Biting his lip, he looked between the two adults a few times, only to perk up, noting that Loboto's focus was entirely on Oleander. He crept up behind the tank before carefully climbing its massive treads.

Oleander grit his teeth, kicking his legs in the air and pushing his hands uselessly against Loboto's grip. "I understand plenty! I went through some of the same crap as you!"

"Oh, your parents sent you away to a place that would hate you?!" Loboto snarled, yanking Oleander closer. "You had to deal with ungrateful clients who were happy to just toss you aside?!"

The Coach fumbled. "Uh... no, but the—"

"You had to move from place-to-place?" As Loboto rose to his feet, his telekinetic claw trembled. "Never safe, never knowing if you'd be seen as a psychic sympathizer by the wrong person?"

Raz stopped in his ascent for a moment, brow furrowing.

Meanwhile, Oleander shrugged helplessly. "Look, all of us gotta deal with that last one."

"But you didn't have to deal with other psychics plotting your demise!" Loboto yanked Oleander even closer, his optics glaring into Oleander's eyes.

"We're not doing that anymore!" he insisted. "Both Raz and I made some bad decisions, but we're not gonna keep doing that!"

"Of course you will!" Loboto's voice was shrill, his body shaking. With a swipe and a clench of his own prosthetic claw, the TK claw clenched down on the Coach, who let out a choked cry. "They always have! They always will!"

Raz finally pushed himself up to the top of the tank just in time to see Oleander's face turning red as Loboto squeezed the life out of him. "Coach!" he cried out, only to cover his mouth.

"AH!" Loboto spun around to face Raz, his brows raised, only to furrow again. His hand clenched into a fist. "You've come to stab me in the back, haven't you?!"

"No! That's not it!" Raz exclaimed, waving his hands in front of himself. "We want to help you!"

"You're lying!"

For a moment he was certain Loboto would lash out at him, but the dentist only stood rooted to the spot, his optics twitching toward Oleander (who still kicked and struggled in his grip) and then to the tank below. His knees were buckled and his shoulders were hunched and his chest was heaving, and it struck Raz how different his perception of him had become—he looked nothing like the psychic supervillains in True Psychic Tales.

His posture, his behavior reminded Raz of one time when he'd been helping clean up after a circus show and had found a raccoon that had gotten into the ticket booth. He'd wound up with it backing against a corner as it glared at him, shrieking and spitting, hackles raised, body trembling...

That thing's more afraid of you than you are of it, Ford had told him of Linda, after she'd chased him through the lake bed and attacked him multiple times.

Loboto was scared, and he was cornered.

Taking a breath, then letting it out, Raz dropped his hands to his side, loosening his own stance. "We don't want to hurt you, Loboto. Not like your parents did, or your professor, or any of those people you worked for."

For a moment Loboto stared back at him, expression unreadable. "No," he murmured, and his TK claw loosened its grip slightly on Oleander, who coughed and gasped for air. He continued to look at Raz, then turned to face the Coach... only for his TK claw to pull back, and his expression to harden. "Of course, they never managed to trick me into trusting them!"

And he hurled Oleander down toward the shoreline, where the Coach crashed into the water. Before Raz even had time to react, Loboto whirled around, swinging the claw toward him instead.

Raz held his arms in front of his face, stumbling back until he felt his feet nearly slip off the top of the tank. Finally he cried out before he could stop himself:

"CALI, STOP!"

The word echoed in the sudden silence of the cave.

It took Raz a moment to realize the tank beneath him was no longer rumbling, and Loboto had failed to grab him. Slowly he drew his arms away from his face, and nearly fell backward at the sight of the purple TK claw hovering inches from him and trembling in mid-air. Past that was Loboto, his own prosthetic outstretched, his entire body shaking visibly but otherwise unmoving as he stared at Raz.

Once again Raz relaxed his stance, the vision of Loboto in front of him starting to blur. He reached up, rubbing at his eyes with the heel of his hand, and his throat was tight as he spoke: "Y-you have to believe me."

Slowly, slowly the psychic claw faded as Loboto's real prosthetic dropped to his side. But suddenly the tank they stood upon let out a deep, metallic groan before its metal casing abruptly buckled with an ear-splitting screech. Before Raz had time to react, the entire thing fell apart, collapsing into the rubble beneath them.

Raz yelped as he dropped to the ground with it, finding himself surrounded by ruined stone walls and metal scraps. Scrambling back to his feet, he scanned the wreckage, but he could no longer see the tall frame of Loboto. He nearly groaned in frustration, but stopped when he heard a sniffle nearby. Frowning, he moved a piece of twisted metal aside... and found a familiar child huddled beneath it, his face buried into his knees, shoulders trembling.

"...Cali," Raz said gently, crouching down in front of the kid. "It's okay."

"N-no it's not," Cali stammered between shuddering sobs. "I c-can't leave this place. I can't."

"Yes, you can, Cali."

"No." He let out a strained whimper, his shudders briefly growing in intensity. "W-we’re in too deep to get out… I d-don't know how..."

"We'll get you out of here, just like we got out of the hospital," Raz said firmly. He wanted to put a hand on Cali's shoulder, but held himself back.

"But I... I don't even know what's out there," Cali protested.

Raz gazed at him for a moment before reaching out to him, as he had at the hospital. "Wanna find out?"

Finally Cali raised his head; tears ran down his face from beneath his mismatched glasses as he looked from the outstretched hand back up to Raz. "B-but I... I-I don't have anywhere to go." He scrubbed his knuckles beneath his glasses, and his chest jerked in a hiccup. "N-no one wants me."

Something within Raz's chest clenched.

Before he could stop himself, he threw himself forward, wrapping Cali in the tightest hug he could muster. Tears burned at his eyes as he rested his head against the other kid's shoulder, and his firm words shook with emotion as he spoke:

"I do."

Cali sat frozen in shock as both words and actions sank in. Slowly, shakily he drew his arms around Raz's shoulders. As he returned the hug uncertainly, Raz held him tighter until finally Cali rested his head against Raz's shoulder, sniffling.

Another quiet sob nearby informed Raz that they weren't the only ones overcome with emotion. Opening his eyes, he spotted Oleander a short distance off, leaning against a pile of rubble, and he was pretty sure the wetness he was frantically and ineffectively scrubbing from his face wasn't lake water.

Raz wasn't sure how long he held Cali in that cavern, deep beneath the underground cities and cave systems built and dug out from years of pain and loneliness. But the next thing he knew, he heard a familiar, older voice mumble over him: "You… really would help me?"

Cali wasn't little anymore; Raz's arms were instead wrapped around Loboto, whose spindly arm and clawed prosthetic still hesitantly clung to him.

"Of course I would, Loboto," Raz replied, and hugged him all the more fiercely.

Chapter Text

The meeting room was silent.

Unlike the day prior, only four people sat within it, one on one side of the table and the other three on the other. Truman's gaze fell over them, looking from Oleander, to Raz, to Loboto.

Raz followed his gaze as it turned. Oleander was biting a knuckle as he watched Truman, while Loboto stared intently down at the desk. While yesterday he had been trembling in silent fury, now he shook in obvious anxiety, unable to meet anyone’s eyes. Raz couldn't project comforting thoughts into Loboto's mind thanks to the special cap he wore, so instead he wordlessly reached out and placed a hand on Loboto's back, above where the restraint held him.

Initially Loboto jerked at the sudden touch, but when his mechanical eyes flicked over to Raz, his shivering calmed down a fraction.

"You're sure of what you've seen?" Truman finally asked. "Both of you?"

"Yes, sir," Oleander replied with an eager nod.

"Absolutely," Raz said with a firm nod of his own. "We had to travel deep into his mind, so I don't think there's any room for doubt here anymore."

Truman stared at them evenly, folding his hands together in front of himself, before turning to Loboto. "Caligosto," he said, and Loboto flinched. "You've been an enemy to the Psychonauts for many years—perhaps not directly, but you've worked against us nonetheless."

Loboto curled in on himself, the lights from his optics turning cold, his lips a tight line.

Face falling, Raz looked back at Oleander, who shook his head. Though his heart sank, he opened his mouth to speak, only for Truman to go on:

"But if anyone knows people can change, it's those of us who have delved deep into the minds of others, and seen it happen again and again. And if someone is willing to change, we are willing to welcome them with open arms."

The words removed a heavy weight from Raz's chest, and Loboto lifted his head, brows raised and optics flickering.

Truman's face, however, was still serious. "But you do have to be willing to change. Is that understood?"

For a moment Loboto stared at him dumbly, mouth hanging partially open, before he managed a dazed, "...uh-huh."

"You will need to undergo psychic training so that you learn proper control of your powers, and we are fully able to provide you with that. You will also need to stay within the facility—we can have a dorm room readied for you—until your training is complete. As well, you'll have certain agents you'll need to check in with every so often. Do you agree to these terms?"

Loboto's body and head were tipped slightly to one side, as though his brain was struggling to process what was being said. With a soft nudge from Raz, he gave a full body jolt, shaking his head as though waking from a daze. "Uh..."

"Do you need to hear all that again?"

"No, no, it's fine!" Once again his optics were flicking back and forth, his mouth twisting as he gave a short series of hums. Finally his gaze locked onto Raz before turning back to Truman. "Will he still be here...?"

Though Truman raised a brow incredulously, an amused smile crossed his face. "Well, junior agents aren't typically the ones to oversee this sort of thing, but I can certainly pull a few strings, if Agent Aquato is okay with that."

"Yes!" Raz blurted out, only to realize everyone else was suddenly staring at him. Leaning back, he cleared his throat. "Um, I mean, yes, sir. I fully accept this responsibility."

"Not all of the responsibility," Truman clarified. "He'll still need instruction from our senior agents, but you can certainly help oversee all that."

"I can help out with the training too, sir," Oleander put in. His unease had melted away, and he was grinning. "My classroom's still good to take on new students, heheh."

Heaving a sigh, Truman waved a hand in the Coach's direction. "Yes, Agent Oleander, that will be fine, so long as you both check in with your assigned agents. I'll be gathering up other senior agents to help out with this once they're able."

"Great!" Raz exclaimed, turning to grin at Loboto. But the dentist didn't look near as excited as Raz felt, his head lowered in contemplation.

Glancing over at some of the boxes in the room, Truman put a hand to his forehead and TK'd out a stack of paper. "I'll need you to fill out some paperwork for this and read the formal agreement, of course." He gently deposited the form in front of Loboto. "I know it's been a long day for you, but I'd like this back late tomorrow. Oh—" With another quick TK maneuver, he pulled out another stack of papers and set them before Raz and Oleander. "Speaking of, I'll need you to fill out your mission report for our records."

While Raz frowned down at the unfamiliar form, Loboto mumbled next to him, "Not sure how you plan for me to do that."

"Hm?" Truman looked at Loboto, brows knit.

Loboto squirmed in his seat, drawing attention to the fact that he was still bound by the anti-psychic restraints. "I suppose you could put a pencil in my mouth, but that's terrible for your teeth, y'know."

"Oh! Yes. Agent Oleander, could you..." Truman's eyes darted from Oleander to Loboto a few times, and he leaned slightly away from the latter. "...Release him?"

"Oh wait, I've got the key for that!" Quickly Raz TK'd the key out from his bag, inserting it into the lock at the front of Loboto's restraint. With a click, the restraint around his middle released, as did the one at his feet half a second later.

Once the restraints clattered to the floor, Loboto stretched his arms in an exaggerated manner and rolled his shoulders. "Finally," he said, pulling the anti-psychic helmet off. His showercap immediately popped back up into shape as he tossed the helmet aside.

Raz found himself smiling until he realized the room had gone silent again. Blinking, he looked back at Truman, who was leaning back warily, and Oleander, who sat at the edge of his seat, hands clenched.

But Loboto only reached beneath his apron straps to scratch his back as his optics twitched back and forth over the table. Finally he looked up, frowning. "So are you gonna give me a pencil or what?"

Immediately Truman relaxed, chuckling as he TK'd a ballpoint pen off the floor. "Here you are, Doctor."

"Thanks." Clenching the pen with his prosthetic claws, Loboto looked over the paper again.

"But as I said, there's no need for you to do it right this moment. You still have until… let’s say 6 PM tomorrow—I'd rather we not rush something important like this. Agent Oleander?" Truman waited for the Coach to perk up before he TK'd a set of keys over to him. "I'd like you to show him to the dorms."

"Hmph, am I back in college?" Loboto muttered, tapping the pen against his lips. "Always had nightmares about that..."

"It'll be a better learning experience than the one at the dump you went to before," Oleander said as he hopped off his seat, leaving the papers Truman had given him still sitting at the table. "Forward march!"

"Oh, so you're ordering me around again, are you?" Loboto said, without any bite to his words. After snapping up the forms in his claw, he pushed himself away from the table and moved to follow Oleander, only to teeter and collapse forward like an oversized domino.

"Loboto!" Raz cried, hopping off his seat. "Are you okay?!"

"Eh, he's just been all tied up and off his feet too long—" Oleander started, only to be interrupted by a loud gurgle. "...Not to mention running on an empty tank." Summoning a TK hand, he grabbed the straps on Loboto's back and hoisted him back to his feet. "Up you go."

Groaning, Loboto rubbed his forehead and wobbled where he stood.

"C'mon, Cal," the Coach urged, waving Loboto toward the meeting room door. "One foot in front of the other."

Raz nearly pushed himself away from the table as well, but stopped when Truman's voice rang in his mind: One moment.

"Huh?" Raz looked anxiously between the door that Loboto and Oleander were exiting through, and Truman, who watched him seriously. "Wh-what is it, sir?"

"Hey, you comin', private?" Oleander asked, sticking his head back through the door.

"He'll catch up in a moment," Truman answered. When Oleander shrugged and stepped back through the door, Truman faced Raz again. "Now, Agent Aquato—"

"D-did I do something wrong?" Raz asked. He'd subconsciously wrapped his arms around himself, feeling small as he faced the Grand Head. "I'm sorry, this was my first official mission, but I promise I'll try—"

"What?" Truman stared at him in utter confusion. "No, you did nothing wrong, Razputin." But before Raz could relax, Truman's gaze turned serious. "I just needed you to know that this is not the end of the mission."

"What—?!" Raz looked back at the door where he'd last seen Loboto. "But he's better now! Isn't he?"

"Well... yes, and no." Sighing, Truman glanced off to the side. "While you brought the Doctor over a hurdle—which is quite an accomplishment—you should know that it's when people are brought out of terrible situations that they're at their most vulnerable." He turned back to Raz, staring him in the eye. "This is when you will need to show him the most support."

The tension in Raz's body eased. "Of course, sir! I wasn't just gonna let him go off on his own, anyway." Feeling a pang in his chest, he looked away. "He... needs a friend."

Though Raz couldn't see Truman's expression, he could hear his quiet, warm laugh from across the table. Frowning, Raz looked up. "...What is it, sir?"

"Oh, I'm just thinking," he remarked. "You've got a special quality, Raz."

"I do?" He straightened in his seat. "I mean, I think I've been pretty good with my powers, though Dion says I've never been the best with balance, and—"

"No, no, I mean..." Truman turned away, looking upward in thought. "The former Grand Head had an innate quality to see the best in people, even when they were at their worst." He chuckled. "Apparently I have the same thing... or so Hollis tells me." Finally he looked back at Raz. "If your latest mission is anything to go by... I'd say it's the same for you, Razputin."

Raz felt as though he were floating some distance away, not really sitting before Truman. "Oh! I... you really think so, sir?"

Truman nodded.

Still feeling distant, Raz could only stare for a few more moments before something jarred him back to reality. "Wait, you're not really Gristol's brain in the Grand Head's body, trying to butter me up again, are you?"

"What?" Truman reared his head back. "I hope not!" He placed a hand on his forehead, rubbing it. "What did he do in there...?"

"Oh, uh, sorry sir, didn't mean to make you worry."

After shaking his head, Truman focused back on Raz again. "That's all right. In any case, I'm glad we have you on board, Agent Aquato. You're free to go now." He cast a wary glance at the door. "I'm not sure I fully trust those two to be on their own for too long yet."

"Right! Thank you sir!" With that, Raz snatched up his papers and hurried out the door, shutting it behind. As he headed out of the office, however, Truman's words slowly sank in, and he found himself full of giddy energy, grinning as he shook his fists in delight, inadvertently crumpling up the form he carried. "I can't believe the Grand Head of the Psychonauts thinks I'm cool!" he squealed.

It took him a moment to realize he was in the Nerve Center, and he felt his face heat up when he noticed that a few of the agents were giving him funny looks. Fortunately he had enough excitement to keep himself buoyant, and he hopped on a lev ball to speed out of the room and catch up with Loboto and Oleander.

It wasn't hard to spot the two of them in the Atrium, where Loboto's presence was attracting a lot of stares. Raz hurried over, hopping off his lev ball and landing directly next to him. Both Loboto and Oleander jumped, the former letting out a small yelp.

"Sheesh, watch the blind side, private!" Oleander grunted, pointing at his glass eye.

"Right, sorry." Raz gave them a sheepish grin. "Truman had to keep me for a minute to give a few more instructions."

"That so? Huh." The Coach rubbed his chin. "You'll have to relay them to me later. First though, let's finish this part of the mission." With that, he resumed walking toward another wing of the Motherlobe that Raz had yet to explore. This one wasn't marked in big letters like the others, but instead was a quieter, much less grand hallway. There were a few benches and seats here and there, and they eventually passed a vending room (which featured a few different machines and a microwave), as well as the occasional bathroom and a laundry room.

"Seems a bit mundane for the Psychonauts," Loboto muttered, his optics twitching toward the laundry room as they passed. Through the open door, they could spot an agent in casual clothes, nearly dozing off as she stood next to a running dryer.

"Better than some musty old tower, though, right?" Oleander replied.

"That musty old tower was my home," Loboto snapped, then wilted, his eyes tilting away. "...There's not even a lab here."

"Sasha has a lab!" Raz said, turning around and walking backwards so he could look up at Loboto. "Otto too! You could probably work something out with one of them if you wanted to use those."

At that Loboto seemed startled. "Not that I'm in any particular hurry to go back to either of those places," he said, "but I'll think about it."

Nodding, Raz went to turn around, only to walk straight into another person in the hall. He let out a yelp, dropping the crumpled papers he'd been carrying.

"Hey, watch it, kid!" the agent he'd bumped into grunted.

"S-sorry." Quickly he scooped up the papers and hurried back over to Oleander and Loboto. He looked over the forms as he did so, frowning. "Man, I didn't think about how I'd have to fill out this kinda stuff after missions."

"Yeah, it's not the most fun part of the job." The Coach eyed the forms with a frown as well. "I'll have to help you out with those."

Loboto bent down, optics searching over the papers. "Oh, I could give you a hand there," he said, nodding. "I've still got a knack for forgery."

"NO," Raz and Oleander said simultaneously.

While Raz quickly folded the papers and TK'd them into his bag, Loboto straightened, looking away. "Suit yourself."

"We'll tackle that part of the mission later," Oleander went on. He looked down at the key Truman had handed him, turning it one way, then another, and eyeing some signs on the wall (one featuring room numbers, another with an arrow pointing down the hall with the label "DAY ROOM" and another arrow in a different direction with the label "KITCHEN"). "Come on, we're nearly there." It wasn't long before he stopped in front of a door, compared the number on it to the one on the keyring, and nodded. "Yep, here we are." With that, he unlocked the door and opened it, gesturing into the room. "Welcome to your new living space, Cal."

Both Raz and Loboto stepped in, the latter having to duck through the door. Raz knew he didn't really have to be here, but he'd never seen one of the dorms before, though he'd seen the posters on the bulletin board advertising movie night. The room wasn't terribly large, featuring a bed, a desk and chair, a closet, a dresser, and a shelf. A few tiny holes pockmarked the walk here and there where posters had originally hung, but otherwise the place was in decent condition.

"They're not the greatest," Oleander remarked, "but you're free to decorate 'em as you like. Typically there's a security deposit for these things, but your situation's a bit different. Pretty sure you're still responsible for paying for any repairs, though."

"I wasn't planning on trashing the place," Loboto said, setting the papers and pen Truman had given him on the table. He stared down at it for a moment, then cast another glance around the room, his gaze falling on the bed. Raz wished he could read Loboto's expressions more easily, but something told him the doctor wasn't especially happy. Maybe he was just tired?

Another gurgle filled the silence of the room.

Or hungry. That could be, too.

"Heh, well, you can follow the signs to the kitchen," Oleander went on, "but I'd say the Noodle Bowl should be our next stop. But before I forget—" He tossed the key up to Loboto, who snatched it with his left hand. "Don't lose that."

"I wasn't planning on that, either," Loboto said, pocketing the key. Or any of this, Raz swore he heard him mutter into his collar.

As Oleander ushered them out of the room and back the way they came, he put his hand to his temple.

Who are you calling? Raz asked.

The Coach barely suppressed a laugh. Just a couple of his future instructors.

Raz had an idea of what he meant, and sure enough, they ran into the two of them just as they stepped out into the Atrium.

"Good afternoon Morry, Razputin," Sasha greeted as he and Milla approached the group. He nodded toward Loboto. "...Caligosto."

"We heard from Morry that you'd be staying here for a while," Milla said, taking a step closer to the dentist. "That's so good to hear, darling!"

Loboto mumbled something unintelligible in response, looking away.

"Sasha and I will help train your psychic powers," Milla went on. "We've taught plenty of chi—of students before, and we'll be happy to help you!"

"Indeed." Sasha stepped beside his partner, gesturing toward her. "Milla in particular will be able to help you with levitation, while I'd be happy to show you how to psi-blast in my shooting gallery."

Immediately Raz, Oleander, and Milla balked. "Uh," the Coach blurted, "might wanna wait on that one for a bit, Nein."

"Why? It's a healthy way of dealing with pent-up psychic energy, which I'm sure the doctor has no shortage of, given his situation," Sasha remarked, taking a drag from his cigarette.

"Let's just start with the basics for now, Sasha," Milla said hurriedly.

"Yeah, I'll be teaching him too!" Raz put in. "I... don't have a classroom like you guys, but I can probably figure something out."

"First thing's first, though, we gotta fill up the tank." Oleander jabbed a thumb in the direction of the Noodle Bowl. "You two gonna join us?"

"Oh, we won't be staying—we were just about to pick up lunch for our subject," Sasha remarked, only to clear his throat. "Er, detainee. Though we also needed to discuss a few things with you, Morry."

"Ah, really?" Scratching the back of his head, he looked between Raz and Sasha a few times. "Well, all right. Lemme just get some rations settled for these two."

As they headed into the cafeteria and made their orders, Raz watched the three camp counselors chatter, while Loboto remained oddly silent. His gaze remained fixed on the floor, though occasionally he looked up, eyes twitching left and right anxiously before hurriedly looking downward again. It looked like he might be shivering, too, though he supposed it might be a little chilly in this place.

"Razputin, darling," Milla said, jarring Raz out of his thoughts, "why don't you and Caligosto take your meal outside?"

Remembering the spots he'd seen around the outside of the Motherlobe, Raz brightened. "Sure! That sounds fun!"

Just let us know immediately if there's any problems, Sasha added telepathically.

Raz straightened. Sure thing, Agent Nein, but I don't think he'll be any trouble.

Hopefully not.

Just as he was about to say something else to Sasha, Raz found himself interrupted by a plastic salad container and a water bottle held out to him. "Oh, thanks, Coach!" he said, grinning as he accepted the food.

"No problem, soldier." Oleander winced as he held up a greasy-looking container and water bottle to Loboto, who hesitated a moment before snatching them. Frantically the Coach wiped his gloves with a napkin as he glanced back at Raz. "I'll meet up with you later to help with that paperwork. For now, dismissed!"

"Yes, sir!" After waving to the Coach with the water bottle he was holding, he looked up at Loboto, who fiddled with his own water bottle in his claw. "C'mon, Doctor Loboto, there's some nice seats outside."

Loboto only made a hum of acknowledgement, but followed him regardless as he headed back out into the Atrium and toward the lobby.

Raz had to apologize before holding Loboto's apron straps in a gentle TK grip as they took the lift down. ("Milla will teach you about levitation later so you can use these on your own," he had explained.) He had to do the same once again to use one of the lifts outside to get to the balcony. Once there, he sighed at finding one of the tables free from other agents, and took a seat.

The sun was still high and kept the quarry warm, while a cool breeze prevented it from getting too hot—perfect weather to explore more of this place... or to just relax for a moment. After how hectic the past week or so had been, Raz felt a bit more comfortable just unwinding for now. He cracked open his water bottle and eagerly dug into his salad—a sort of food he was still getting used to eating, but it was a lot better than he'd expected—but after a few moments, he noticed that Loboto... hadn't started eating, nor had he said much in the past while. Frowning, Raz turned to look at him.

Rather than sitting back in his chair, Loboto was sitting at the edge of the seat, shoulders hunched and back stiff. Yet he made no move to eat his food either—the food box and water bottle sat untouched on the table. His eyes looked out into the distance, yet not focused on any specific point, and his lips were a tight line.

"...Doctor Loboto?" Raz ventured, and the doctor jumped in his seat, as though startled out of a trance. He winced. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. Are you okay?"

"P-perfectly fine," he stammered, waving Raz off.

Frowning, Raz looked from Loboto to the greasy box on the table. "Do you not like hamburgers?" he asked. "I mean, I get it if you don't—I really used to like them myself, but uh, some kinda messed up stuff happened, and I've been staying away from meat for the past few days." He held up his salad box. "But you can have some of my salad if you—"

"I'm not hungry," Loboto said, only for his words to be followed by a growl from his stomach. In a quick move, he swung his prosthetic arm and hit himself in the gut, wincing. "Don't listen to that—it's lying."

Raz raised an eyebrow. "Uhh... okay. I'll take your word for it."

They sat in awkward silence for a few moments, Raz shoveling more food into his mouth. Loboto still wouldn't look at his food, instead opting to stare down at the water in the quarry. Even when Raz finished his meal, Loboto had still barely moved.

"So, uh..." Raz bit his lip, tapping his fingers against the edge of the table. "That was a lotta stuff that happened, wasn't it? In your mind, I mean. And here, too! But everything should be a lot better now, right?" Turning to face Loboto, he gave him a hopeful smile. "How do you feel?"

Still Loboto did not look at him, instead continuing to stare silently down at the water. He did not immediately answer, only continuing to gaze downward until a shudder wracked his frame. Finally he spoke, his words so quiet and fleeting that Raz could barely catch them: "I'm terrified."

A sudden gust of wind knocked the empty food box off the table and tipped over the mostly-empty water bottle. The air around them was suddenly cold.

"Wh... why?" Raz leaned closer, feeling a tug in his chest. "What are you afraid of?"

Raising up his hand, Loboto gestured at the quarry, the psychoisolation chamber, the lab, the Motherlobe.

Raz followed Loboto's gestures before turning back to him. "I know this place is big, but it's really great here. You'll get used to it!"

"It's not that," he growled, shaking his head. Slowly he pulled his hand back to his chest, and clenched it. "You... plucked me from that crumbling cavernous cave I was trapped in all that time, like a tiny tooth swallowed by a child before they could get anything valuable for it. But now I feel…” He hesitated, then looked up. “Crooked? Fallen out of place? Like… someone dropped me, and I bounced under the fridge.”

After taking a moment to parse the metaphor, Raz sighed and looked down at the ground. "I think I know how you feel." To his surprise, Loboto turned to look at him, and he continued: "Everything here is different from what I've been doing my whole life. I've never..." He tried to gesture with his hands, but wasn't sure what to do. "I've never stayed in one place before. We always moved around, and... now, this is where I'll be."

He paused for a moment, feeling his stomach knot up again. "To be honest, Cali... I'm scared too."

Loboto shifted, turning his body to face Raz and tipping his head.

"I learned a lot of stuff I'd always thought was true... wasn't true at all. And there's things that are still... kinda new to me." Raz glanced at the spilled water on the table, and with a bit of concentration, a little hand sprouted out of the water and waved at him. His smile was brief, and he stared down at his hands. "My whole life's gonna be different from now on, but..." Finally he clenched his hands, looking up. "It's going to be better. It's how I want it to be."

After a moment he looked back at Loboto, who was back to staring downward. This time, though, instead of his eyes staring off into space, his brow was furrowed, his mouth twisting in thought.

"Don't you want things to go better, Cali?" Raz asked. "Don't you wanna use your powers for the right thing?"

Loboto's chest heaved in a deep sigh. He looked up at the items on the table and reached out with his prosthetic arm, pressing a claw against the top of his water bottle and wobbling it, watching the water slosh inside. "...Y'know, old dentist practice was just to pull teeth."

Raz blinked. "Uh... come again?"

"If there was a problem with a tooth, you'd pull it. Certainly the most fun way to handle things, but not the most... productive." He flicked the bottle, knocking it over. "But that's not what's done nowadays. Always better to save the tooth when you can. But it's... not quite the easiest way of doing things." Sighing, he set the water bottle upright again. "I've been pulling teeth all this time."

Perking up, Raz nodded. "But you know the better thing to do, now, right?"

Loboto hesitated. "I... I think so...?"

"Well..." Raz looked aside for a second, then shrugged before looking back. "We'll figure it out together. How's that sound?"

"Together...?" Loboto murmured. His mechanical eyes twitched in one direction, then another, his mouth wobbling. Then his optics turned to face Raz, the mechanics whirring as he stared into his eyes. Finally he clenched his claw, not in anger, but determination. "All right. Let's do it."

The moon gleamed over the quarry, its light reflecting off the water and the brain-shaped dome of the Motherlobe. Crickets chirped around the dozing goats, but luckily their high-pitched cries didn't reach the microphones set up within the tree house. Morris kept an eye on Queepie as the kid skillfully tuned the radio, while across from them Raz sat cross-legged on the floor, glancing up to observe Loboto’s latest… look.

While, even when perched on a stool, he more-or-less retained his familiar silhouette, his entire outfit other than his shower cap had completely changed: Rather than his filthy lab coat (which was in the process of being thoroughly cleaned), he wore a long, yellow dress, a green turtleneck over said dress, a pink glove on his left hand, knee-length white socks, and black shoes with medium heels. The clothing had been lent from a variety of donors—Sasha and Cassie being the main ones, since they were closest to his height, and Otto and Milla had pitched in too. The doctor's appearance garnered more stares than he'd gotten previously, but he'd assured Raz he was comfortable in the outfit (the dress especially made him think of his lab coat).

Now, though, he seemed slightly less comfortable, hands on his knees as one of his legs bouncing uncertainly. Once Queepie gave Morris a thumbs-up and skipped out onto the balcony, however, Loboto perked up, looking more alert and excited, while Morris TK'd one mic closer to Loboto while moving his own closer to himself.

"Goooood evening, everyone!" Morris began. "You're listening to K-L.O.B., the Motherlobe's exclusive radio station! Tonight we've got a special guest for you—"

"Oooh, I've always wanted to do one of these things!"

Morris winced, making a swiping motion at his throat. "Yes, that voice you just heard is our special guest, the newest trainee of the Psychonauts, Doctoooor..." He drew out the word, flipping through some notecards before glancing frantically over to Raz. Help me out, how do you pronounce this guy's name again?

Cah-lee-goh-stoh, Raz answered with a nod.

"Caligosto Loboto!" Morris finished with a flourish.

Loboto giggled, clasping his hand and claw together in delight. "Yeah, you hear that, dad?" he cried, leaning aggressively into his mic. "I'm on the radio! Too bad you never got that interview, eh?"

While Morris grit his teeth, stealing an already-exasperated look at Raz, Raz covered his mouth to hide his silent laughter.

I told you to keep this from getting out of hand! Morris hissed into his mind.

What, you can't handle this?

Clearing his throat, Morris faced Loboto again. "So, Doctor Loboto, I'm told you have quite the patchy history with the Psychonauts?"

"Oh, yes, it’s practically a quilt at this point. I've probably worked for half the scoundrels in their rogues' gallery!" Loboto waved a hand flippantly, as though he were admitting to an extremely petty crime.

"Uh... huh."

Raz frowned when he noticed Morris glancing at the entrance to the tree house as though eyeing the escape route. Queepie was sitting just outside, legs dangling over the edge of the porch and finger shoved firmly up his nose. Man, Queepie's less scared of Cali than Morris is, Raz thought with deliberate loudness.

Morris shook his head, straightening in his chair. "But now here you are, living at Psychonauts Headquarters! Quite the change, huh?"

"Certainly. My last room was in an abandoned asylum, and it had windows. Though this place seems to be in better shape."

To Raz's relief, his fellow Junior Psychonaut decided to overlook the asylum comment. "Ah," Morris continued with a smirk. "So you haven't seen the dorm kitchen yet."

"I said it was in better shape, not perfect. The kitchen at Thorney Towers was cleaner than that dump!"

"Man, I am not surprised." Morris chuckled. "How about work-wise, though? What's it like going from a dastardly villain to working with the good guys?"

"Dastardly?" Loboto tipped his head, tapping a claw against his lip. "That's... evil in a handsome way, right?"

"...Sure."

"Well, there's no more terrifying bosses lurking over me."

"Right, you haven't met Hollis."

"What—?"

"The work's pretty different too, right?"

Loboto leaned back, his optics swiveling away. (Raz TK'd his microphone closer, an action that received a grateful nod from Morris.) "It's... not work exactly..."

"Yeah? They let you loaf around all day?"

"No, no! It's..." His mouth twisted for a moment. "Psychic... training."

"Interesting! Did you not use your powers much when—"

Nope, nope, don't go there, Raz thought hurriedly, waving his hands.

Morris cocked an eyebrow at him, but shrugged and flipped to a different note card. "What kind of training do you do here?"

"Oh, stuff like levitation... and telekinesis..."

He moved his right arm, and a clawed, purple hand materialized in front of Morris, who rolled back in surprise as the claw shakily plucked up a note card before flicking it to the floor. While Raz was excited at seeing the progress, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of anxiety at how Morris would respond.

To his surprise, Morris zipped back up to his mic, disregarding the dropped card. "So our listeners didn't see that, but our guest just did a quick demonstration of his telekinesis powers." Grinning in excitement, he looked back up at Loboto. "Did you do that with your prosthesis?"

"What?" Loboto's optics switched on and off quickly in a “blink.” "Is that unusual?"

"I've never seen a psychic do that before! Then again, you're the first psychic I've met with a prosthesis."

Raz swallowed back the urge to inform them that True Psychic Tales #299 featured a psychic from Canada with a prosthetic leg; Morris wouldn't be keen on the interruption.

"Psychic..." Loboto murmured, his mouth forming the word uncomfortably as he stared down at his claw.

"I suppose it's not too surprising," Morris went on, switching to his calmer radio voice. He shifted his chair back and forth slightly and patted the armrest to indicate it, raising an eyebrow. "We psychics are known for solving problems, right?"

Loboto gave a start, looking up at Morris, then down at Raz, who grinned back up at him.

"...Right," Loboto answered slowly, and his expression softened. "I... suppose we are."