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    Summary

    "Mob," Verity starts, "who do you love?"

    "Who do I—? I…" Mob pauses for a moment. "I'm not telling you that."

    A moment.

    "Okay," Verity acquiescence, easily.

    -

    First, it seemed to happen slowly. Then, things happen all at once.

    The mod itself is having issues, he thinks.

    It reacts incorrectly. Verity acts oddly. More strangely than usual, more neurotic than recognizable.

    He indulges it.

    He has practice.

    He has nothing better to do.

    -

    When Verity comes through his monitor screen, he sure thinks he could have found something better to do. Now all there is to do is live with it.

    Verity possesses whoever is unfortunate enough to open the door.

    Language:
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