WEBVTT

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Speaker 1: The

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Speaker 1: Eighth Self. Chapter One. Kitsari.
Meeting Place.

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Speaker 1: Catrilla followed her father behind
the stage of the Kitsari, wondering if this was

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Speaker 1: the night they would kill him. The
seating area was filled, which was usual. The

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Speaker 1: standing areas were also filled,
which was not. If the Torrents were going to
have

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Speaker 1: him killed, this would be the easiest
opportunity. The standing area was closest to

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Speaker 1: the stage and put him in close
proximity to an assassin. Her father, the
servant

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Speaker 1: prime, the supposed lowest point of
society, a man who only

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Speaker 1: served the servants, the people who
served all of society. If he was beneath

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Speaker 1: everyone in the city district, then
why were people trying to kill him? Could he

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Speaker 1: really be so unimportant? No, it made
sense, Catrilla thought. He's beneath

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Speaker 1: everyone in the sense that he
supports them all, like the supporting pillar of
a

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Speaker 1: building. A pillar is not less than
the roof, merely beneath it. She pulled her

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Speaker 1: mirror array out of her pocket and
fanned out the six color-tinted mirrors. The

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Speaker 1: seventh silver mirror got caught and
had to be forced into view. The seven selves

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Speaker 1: looked back at her. Catrilla could
hear the distant sounds of the Kitsari crowd.
She

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Speaker 1: continued to follow her father on his
slow march to the podium, but fell back about

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Speaker 1: a dozen feet in order to look at the
mirrors. Am I thinking too much? I feel like

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Speaker 1: I'm thinking too much. She whispered
to the seven selves. Absolutely.

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Speaker 1: Stop thinking about paying attention
and actually pay attention instead,

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Speaker 1: Violet told her.

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Speaker 1: This matters. It's worth some
thinking, Red shot back. It wasn't unusual for
those

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Speaker 1: two to be in opposition, though. But
what did the moderates think? Yellow merely

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Speaker 1: smiled and shrugged. Orange wasn't
really paying attention. I don't think you
should

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Speaker 1: be consulting us now, Blue said,
indifferent. Just

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Speaker 1: make sure you and everyone you meet
remembers your name, Green said.

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Speaker 1: Catrilla started to close the mirror
array. Her tinted green reflection danced

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Speaker 1: around urgently in its little mirror
frame. And make sure you meet

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Speaker 1: everyone. Your name. Say your name.
And then the voice was cut off as

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Speaker 1: the mirrors were folded closed and
the reflection disappeared. That had been less

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Speaker 1: than helpful. Blue was right. She
didn't like it when Catrilla wasted time talking

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Speaker 1: to herself. They were nearly to the
back of the stage now, so she had to jog to

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Speaker 1: catch up to her father. She wasn't
security. Technically, the prime servant didn't

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Speaker 1: have any security. He couldn't, as he
was the servant to everyone else. Practically

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Speaker 1: speaking, people gave him clothes,
kept him fed, gave him a place to sleep, and
kept

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Speaker 1: him alive without being asked to do
so. He never asked for these things, but in an

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Speaker 1: unspoken rule, it was made clear they
were given to him in trade for his service to

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Speaker 1: everyone. He wasn't allowed to demand
service of others, so everything had to be

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Speaker 1: given to him. In theory, that meant
he was the only person who could be trusted to

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Speaker 1: speak honestly on behalf of his
district's people, since he was the only one
with

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Speaker 1: absolutely both everything to lose
and nothing to gain by betraying them.
Strangely,

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Speaker 1: this elevated him again to a sort of
figurehead position, a voice for everyone.

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Speaker 1: And there was no shortage of people
who wanted the voice of everyone silenced.

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Speaker 1: Catrilla tapped Violet, then walked
out ahead of her father and scanned the crowd

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Speaker 1: with the emotionless, unashamed
precision the task demanded. There were no known

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Speaker 1: dissidents in the first few rows. No
one that looked overly suspicious, anyway.

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Speaker 1: She was pleased to see that most of
the first few rows were filled out by volunteers

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Speaker 1: that she'd asked to be there, people
she trusted and would be watching her for any

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Speaker 1: signs of problems. She released
Violet and tapped both Yellow and Green at the
same

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Speaker 1: time. A flood of thoughts and
emotions hit her so hard she nearly fell to the
floor.

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Speaker 1: She released them immediately. Bad
idea. Catrilla steadied herself, then

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Speaker 1: paced along the edge of the stage,
looking down the few feet to the ground. It
would

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Speaker 1: at least slow anyone trying to get to
him. The Prime Servant had suggested on

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Speaker 1: multiple occasions, very loudly to
empty rooms, that he wished the stage would be

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Speaker 1: lowered beneath the height of the
standing crowd. So far, though, no one seemed to

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Speaker 1: have taken up his pleas. That was the
trouble with being beneath everyone. When they

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Speaker 1: thought you were being stupid, they
were welcome to ignore you. And no one ignored

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Speaker 1: Tiyango more than Catrilla, the only
daughter of the man who served everyone but

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Speaker 1: could ask nothing of anyone. If
Tiyango was the voice of the people, Catrilla
was

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Speaker 1: the maid, cook, secretary, and
chamber pot cleaner of the people. As it turned

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Speaker 1: out, a lot of people were willing to
shake the Prime Servant's hand, but not many

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Speaker 1: were willing to wash his sheets or
apply balm to his aching feet. The standing
crowd

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Speaker 1: of the Katari erupt into cheers as
Tiyango walked onto the stage. On the sitting

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Speaker 1: level above, a negligible portion of
the crowd clapped politely.

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Speaker 1: Hello. Hello. Tiongco folded his
hands and bowed to the crowd before him.

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Speaker 1: They hushed almost immediately. Her
father was known to tell stories before speaking

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Speaker 1: on current events. The stories always
seemed deliberately frustrating, though. Long,

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Speaker 1: winding fables that seemed to end
without any obvious lesson to them.

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Speaker 1: Tonight, I plan to share the story of
the ivy and the eucalyptus.

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Speaker 1: Katriella tapped violet again, then
tapped as much blue as she could handle. She

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Speaker 1: felt the world slow around her, her
father's words slurred into slow motion. She

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Speaker 1: scanned the crowd, the blue in her
drawing her eyes to the oddities. A woman with a

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Speaker 1: strange hat. No, just a foreign
fashion. Two men with arms crossed

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Speaker 1: and sour looks on their faces. Mm,
potential threats, but far enough from the

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Speaker 1: stage to handle. Keep an eye on them.
She saw a man with decorative eyeglasses,

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Speaker 1: a woman with only one arm, a man with
no shirt and gang tattoos. Katriella saw them

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Speaker 1: all. She saw everything so fast that
she wasted most of her time simply waiting for

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Speaker 1: her eyeballs to move around the room.
A man with a large scarf faced the wrong

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Speaker 1: direction, a servant in the seating
area that she didn't recognize. She had time to

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Speaker 1: survey the entire room as time
crawled by for everyone else. Katriella felt her

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Speaker 1: thinking grow sluggish, her train of
thought winding in odd circles. That was the

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Speaker 1: trouble with blue, the side effects
built up quickly. If she didn't release the blue

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Speaker 1: soon... A bald man with painted
fingernails just ten feet from the stage. She

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Speaker 1: released the blue and the world sped
up and zoomed out at the same time. She braced

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Speaker 1: herself. The backlash pounded her
brain like a drum. Nausea and pain washed over
her

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Speaker 1: in a wave. Katriella fought the
seizure, forcing her hand out as she fell to the

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Speaker 1: stage. She pointed at the bald man
before collapsing to the stage, breathing in

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Speaker 1: huge, ragged breaths. Tapping blue
sped up your mind, but your mind needed air to

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Speaker 1: function. It needed pumping blood to
clean it out. In those ways, tapping blue was a

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Speaker 1: lot like holding your breath. It
wasn't the store of blue potential that would
hold

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Speaker 1: you back. Usually, it was how awful
it felt to hold it. Her father stopped speaking

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Speaker 1: and helped Katriella to her feet. Her
legs didn't work yet. They would come back

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Speaker 1: soon, probably. Katriella hated
interrupting him, but she knew something was

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Speaker 1: wrong. A dozen people with a rainbow
of colors in their hair moved casually from the

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Speaker 1: front rows through the crowd,
converging on the place where Katriella had
pointed.

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Speaker 1: The bald man was already pushing his
way to the exit. Unfortunately, he'd seen them

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Speaker 1: coming. Kat, breathe. You need to
breathe.

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Speaker 1: Satsun.

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Speaker 1: She was standing again, but still
leaning heavily on him for support. Tiongco
looked

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Speaker 1: out at the crowd. They were
muttering, concerned about... About what?

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Speaker 1: Oh, they thought she was hurt.
Katriella made a few pitiful groans and put a
hand to

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Speaker 1: her forehead. Might as well play it
up. At the same time, she watched the bald man

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Speaker 1: make for the front door just before
her security could intercept. Katriella

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Speaker 1: scowled. This was going to hurt. She
tapped blue again. The world zoomed in

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Speaker 1: and slowed down at the same time. She
watched the bald man with painted fingernails

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Speaker 1: glance once at her on the stage, then
slip out the front door onto the crowded

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Speaker 1: street. Katriella tried to memorize
every detail of his face. He could be a killer.

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Speaker 1: He could be a spy. He could... She
really needed air. Katriella released the blue

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Speaker 1: and screamed in agony. She took a
single gasping breath, then immediately tapped

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Speaker 1: red. The flood of painkillers hit the
searing agony and relief billowed through her.

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Speaker 1: Katriella limped off the stage and
waved a thanks to her father, who looked

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Speaker 1: genuinely concerned but stayed at the
podium. The red made it easy to make a show of

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Speaker 1: actually feeling okay. Don't worry
about me. I'm just the idiot who

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Speaker 1: blue-burned themselves in front of
three hundred people. Nothing to see here.

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Speaker 1: Flashes of red pulsed behind her eyes
with each new step like little red bolts of

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Speaker 1: lightning. Katriella doubled the red
she was tapping. Not good, not good. She was

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Speaker 1: about to take a floor nap. Too much.
Too much blue.

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Speaker 1: She was nearly off the stage by the
time she realized her mistake. The woman with

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Speaker 1: one arm had unrolled her empty
sleeve. She had a throwing knife in one hand.
She was

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Speaker 1: bringing her hand back for a throw.
Tiongco was already addressing the crowd. No one

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Speaker 1: else had seen. It was a ruse. The
bald man with painted fingernails, just a

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Speaker 1: distraction from the real... A silver
blur spun through the air toward her father.

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Speaker 1: The world went black as Katriella
tried to scream.

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Speaker 1: Chapter two. Undura. Shadow.

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Speaker 1: Lenau sat at the end of her bed. He
didn't try to open the shutters and let the

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Speaker 1: light in, like Auntie Mota. He didn't
try to tell her a story about the good times,

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Speaker 1: like Otafu had. He simply sat at the
end of the bed, soaking in the same misery that

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Speaker 1: she'd steeped in for three days.
Lenau rolled his head to face Katriella. Kat,

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Speaker 1: there's been something I've been
meaning to ask you. Don't want to talk. Please.

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Speaker 1: It's important. I don't want to talk
Please, just hear me out.

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Speaker 1: Fine. Lanau cleared his throat. You,
uh, got any

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Speaker 1: dream leaf? I'm really tired of
feeling normal. Catrilla threw a pillow at him.

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Speaker 1: Then, because he deflected it, she
kicked him in the chest. She kicked him again.

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Speaker 1: Seriously? That's what you're gonna
ask me? [laughs] I just thought, you

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Speaker 1: know, you'd had some.

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Speaker 1: Me? He shrugged. Uh, guessed I really
wasted my time here. Well, see you

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Speaker 1: later. Catrilla kicked him again,
more playful this time. Get out of

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Speaker 1: here. You're supposed to take this
seriously. Lanau put his hands up in surrender,

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Speaker 1: then walked out of the room, leaving
her in the gloom, steeping in the malaise of

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Speaker 1: failure. For three days she'd moped
about failing to save her father from an

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Speaker 1: attack, and in the end, Lanau had
known exactly what to do to cheer her up. He'd

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Speaker 1: also been considerate enough to let
her suffer for three days before stepping in.

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Speaker 1: That pain was important to her. If
anyone understood her insane little life,

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Speaker 1: it was him. Catrilla left her room
and walked to the common area of the servant

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Speaker 1: building. Servants bowed to her as
she passed them. She never liked that. Unlike

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Speaker 1: everyone else in the hovel, Catrilla
wasn't a servant. Technically, this was their

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Speaker 1: home. Most servants were only home
long enough to get a brief moment's rest before

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Speaker 1: returning to work. Lately, many of
them had only been coming home every other day.

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Speaker 1: Times were hard in their district of
Aruntu. Times were hard in all of Catala,

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Speaker 1: and the servants responded how they
always did, by working harder.

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Speaker 1: It felt wrong making them bow to her
in their own homes. Catrilla nodded politely

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Speaker 1: and hurried off to the clinic. She
paused outside the door and took a deep breath.

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Speaker 1: She flipped open her pocket mirror
array for the first time since that night. A

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Speaker 1: flood of voices hit her all at once.
You poor thing, Yellow said.

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Speaker 1: What were you thinking? Green
screamed at her. Lack of

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Speaker 1: self-control, Blue muttered. I have
to agree, Violet said.

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Speaker 1: I don't like how you fell asleep. You
gave up and you know it. I'm withdrawing

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Speaker 1: support, Orange said. Hold on, hold
on. One at a time. And don't withdraw

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Speaker 1: until I've at least explained myself.
I don't need an explanation. You fell over

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Speaker 1: like a sad, floppy little fish. That
pitiful display was all I needed to see.

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Speaker 1: Her orange reflection jumped around,
overly animated in her tiny mirror frame.

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Speaker 1: Catrilla flipped a few locks of her
hair around to the front. The orange locks

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Speaker 1: quickly faded to black. She groaned.
Orange was easily lost, but easily won back

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Speaker 1: too. Once this next task was done,
she could probably just run the district blocks

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Speaker 1: to win her over again. Orange
respected enthusiasm, determination.

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Speaker 1: Red hadn't spoken yet. She looked to
the right, a worried look on her face. Catrilla

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Speaker 1: followed her gaze, in the real world,
down the hall. It was just an empty hall.

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Speaker 1: Could her red reflection see
something different in there? And what do you
think,

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Speaker 1: Red? Am I a complete failure of a
daughter? Are you going to tell me what a
weakling

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Speaker 1: I am for passing out from a little
blue? Orange nodded enthusiastically at that
last

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Speaker 1: part. Red glanced back at Catrilla,
distracted. Oh, what? No, it

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Speaker 1: wasn't your fault. Not really. Learn
from this mistake. It could have been worse.

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Speaker 1: Then she went back to looking off to
the right, searching for something. What are

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Speaker 1: you looking for, Red? I keep hearing
something. Wait, did we do Dreamleaf?

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Speaker 1: Orange said. I think we would
remember that, right? Yellow asked.

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Speaker 1: Catrilla ignored their banter and
watched Red curiously. It wasn't like her to be
so

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Speaker 1: quiet. What do you hear? It's a...
It's like a scratching sound.

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Speaker 1: Mm, never mind. Listen, Catrilla,
just get back on our feet. Time stops for

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Speaker 1: no one. Training starts again today.
Personally, I think you need to practice

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Speaker 1: holding Blue. Great. That was exactly
what she wanted more of. Splitting

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Speaker 1: headaches and seizures. Fine. She
wanted to tell herself to eat dirt.

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Speaker 1: She wanted to go back to her room and
just lay in the gloom again. But that's not

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Speaker 1: how you improve, so it was fine. You
just do that in the hallway, huh?

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Speaker 1: Ahem. You just do that in the
hallway, huh?

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Speaker 1: Catrilla looked up from herself. A
nurse was standing there, hand on one hip,

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Speaker 1: disgust written on her face. The
other woman wouldn't be able to hear the voices

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Speaker 1: or see her distinct moving
impressions. But it was pretty obvious that she
was

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Speaker 1: reflecting. Some people considered
that a private thing. And so what? What did

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Speaker 1: Catrilla care if other people saw her
reflecting? It was a natural thing to do. It

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Speaker 1: was a beautiful thing to do. We were
a sad, floppy little fish, Orange

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Speaker 1: said. She made fish lips at Catrilla
and crossed her eyes. Catrilla fanned the

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Speaker 1: mirror array closed and put it back
in her pocket. She couldn't help but notice the

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Speaker 1: nurse had a plain, dark hair. And the
green eyes and light skin that marked her as a

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Speaker 1: foreigner. A Torrentian foreigner,
too. That explained it, then. It also explained

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Speaker 1: her attitude. Oh, I don't mind
reflecting anywhere. I have to keep my hair
pretty.

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Speaker 1: You understand. Well, at least the
others do it behind closed doors.

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Speaker 1: Seems the sensible thing to do. That
was all Katrilla needed to hear. She

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Speaker 1: clenched a fist and stepped up to the
nurse with her chin up. She tapped enough red

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Speaker 1: to make veins bulge on her arms. She
felt her neck swell and stiffen. You might be

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Speaker 1: able to get away with word daggers
where you come from, but in Fatala we treat a

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Speaker 1: dagger like a dagger. If you want to
strike me, strike me. She said,

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Speaker 1: spreading her arms. They felt as
light as balsa wood, but strong. She would enjoy

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Speaker 1: throwing this woman across the room
if it came to that. The nurse looked completely

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Speaker 1: bewildered. Being called out on her
sly attacks must be a novel experience.

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Speaker 1: Torinchan's weren't used to this
level of directness. She skittered away down the

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Speaker 1: hall and Katrilla released the red.
Her father's door was left open. Tiango was

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Speaker 1: awake and sitting up in bed. He
watched her, his face unreadable.

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Speaker 1: Great. So far, she'd been able to
make her daily visits while he was asleep.

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Speaker 1: Until now. Katrilla knew she should
be happy he was recovering, but couldn't quite

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Speaker 1: shake the shadow of guilt. You showed
that person exactly who she expected to see.

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Speaker 1: Is that what you intended? The
bandages around his neck were no longer stained
red,

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Speaker 1: but he still looked pained. The knife
hadn't missed him after all. It just hadn't

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Speaker 1: killed him. But it had gotten close.
Far, far too close.

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Speaker 1: Katrilla grimaced and turned away
from him. She looked out the window instead.
There

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Speaker 1: were so many flower wreaths piled up
outside the window that she could barely see

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Speaker 1: out. We can't let them push us
around. Tolerance is permission, father. This is

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00:19:57.784 --> 00:20:03.764
Speaker 1: still our city. True. But our country
must change. Adapt if it

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Speaker 1: is to survive this revolution.
Katrilla started to speak, but her father folded
his

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Speaker 1: hands and closed his eyes. The
surgeon had told him not to bow until his wound

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Speaker 1: healed. Our culture must change too.
So we should just throw away our

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Speaker 1: traditions then? Live like the
Torrents and worship coins? Or perhaps we should
skip

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Speaker 1: all that and just burn and destroy
like the Badlands nomads? Tiango tapped the side

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Speaker 1: of his neck and his eyes watered. She
was pushing him too hard. But what this man

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Speaker 1: thought mattered. If he was caving to
foreign influence, others would follow.

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Speaker 1: Katrilla needed to stamp out this
madness before he spread it. Each person has

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Speaker 1: something to teach. Each culture.
Refusing to

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Speaker 1: change does not insulate us from it.

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Speaker 1: A little trail of blood ran down his
neck and Katrilla winced. This was going too

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Speaker 1: far. Let me get you a pencil instead.
Hear me. If we

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Speaker 1: choose to change, we can shape it. If
we fight change,

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Speaker 1: we will lose that choice. Tiango
collapsed back to the pillows.

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Speaker 1: Tears flowed from his scrunched up
face. That is not the will of the people. What

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Speaker 1: would those who clothe you think?
Those who feed you? Those who treated your
wounds?

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Speaker 1: Do you really think they are
interested in compromise with the Torrents?
Tiango kept

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Speaker 1: his eyes shut and grimaced. It's what
they need.

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Speaker 1: Katrilla was fuming. The Prime
Servant's role was not to decide what their
district

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Speaker 1: needed, but to interpret and
understand the views of its people. The world
was

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00:21:57.784 --> 00:22:03.764
Speaker 1: changing, true, but it didn't have
to. If everyone in every district of Aruntu, if

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Speaker 1: every city in the entire country of
Katala would just force the foreigners out, this

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00:22:09.244 --> 00:22:14.944
Speaker 1: could all be solved in a day. Without
bloodshed, without endless argument. Someone

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00:22:15.024 --> 00:22:19.244
Speaker 1: tapped her on the shoulder. She spun
around. The Torinchian nurse stood there

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Speaker 1: flanked by three large Torinchian men
in a uniform she didn't recognize. Once

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Speaker 1: the nurse had led them in to
Katrilla, she walked off in a hurry. Thank you,
Ria.

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Speaker 1: One of the men stepped forward and
put a firm hand on Katrilla's shoulder. You need

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Speaker 1: to leave the building immediately.
Then he forcefully turned her around and shoved

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Speaker 1: her a few steps down the hallway. The
other two men stepped up on either side of her

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Speaker 1: while they forced her to march down
the hallway. You can't make me leave. This isn't

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Speaker 1: your building. Last night we were
authorized to keep the peace in the White Leaf

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00:22:55.584 --> 00:23:01.404
Speaker 1: District during civil unrest. Civil
unrest? What was this green eye talking about?

250
00:23:02.124 --> 00:23:07.224
Speaker 1: We'll keep watch over the Prime
Servant. Keep walking. Yeah, like she was really

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00:23:07.284 --> 00:23:12.164
Speaker 1: going to leave her father with the
very people who'd tried to murder him. Where was

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Speaker 1: the rest of her security? She'd been
out of touch for a while. While she'd

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Speaker 1: been pouting, basically. Katrilla
turned around and planted her feet. If they
wanted

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Speaker 1: a fight, let them throw the first
punch. Make me. She tapped green.

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00:23:30.244 --> 00:23:33.944
Speaker 1: The man on the right was going to
take her arm and twist it, hopefully pinning her

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00:23:33.984 --> 00:23:38.824
Speaker 1: to the wall. The man on the left
would wait for orders. The man in the middle
Well,

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Speaker 1: he was trying to do something she
didn't understand. Katrilla easily stepped away

258
00:23:43.204 --> 00:23:47.344
Speaker 1: from the first man's grab, having
seen it coming. It looked so casual he might
have

259
00:23:47.384 --> 00:23:52.824
Speaker 1: assumed that she'd dodged it by
accident. She tapped orange and Nothing
happened.

260
00:23:53.304 --> 00:23:58.324
Speaker 1: Crap. She'd forgotten that orange was
upset with her. The man who missed his first

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00:23:58.384 --> 00:24:02.684
Speaker 1: grab intended to sweep her legs next,
so she tapped enough red to make her eyes

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00:24:02.724 --> 00:24:07.284
Speaker 1: bulge. When the kick connected with
the back of her knees, it stopped. The

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00:24:07.344 --> 00:24:11.324
Speaker 1: Torinchian grunted in pain and
stumbled away, rubbing at his shin as if he'd
kicked

264
00:24:11.384 --> 00:24:16.288
Speaker 1: a wall. She released the red for a
moment, waiting for the next attack. The red

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00:24:16.328 --> 00:24:21.708
Speaker 1: backlash hit her, but tried to look
as if nothing were wrong. She'd only been

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00:24:21.808 --> 00:24:26.248
Speaker 1: standing there, after all, while they
attacked her. The man who'd hesitated intended

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Speaker 1: to move in for a bear hug. Catrilla
tapped blue. She felt the world slow and zoom

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00:24:31.908 --> 00:24:37.328
Speaker 1: in. While the man was still spreading
his arms, Catrilla began to duck and spin. It

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00:24:37.408 --> 00:24:42.288
Speaker 1: took forever for her body to respond.
She got to see her assailant's surprise in

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00:24:42.428 --> 00:24:47.848
Speaker 1: slow motion as she preempted his next
lunge. He tried to correct for her dodge, but

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Speaker 1: it was easy to pivot away when
everything moved so slowly. Catrilla released
the

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00:24:53.388 --> 00:24:57.688
Speaker 1: blue before it was too late. It
burned fast, and she didn't need a repeat of the

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Speaker 1: last incident. The world sped up, and
the man fell to the floor beside Catrilla,

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00:25:03.288 --> 00:25:08.188
Speaker 1: losing his balance as she completed
the dodge. The backlash hit her immediately. She

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00:25:08.228 --> 00:25:12.828
Speaker 1: had to prop herself up against the
wall while the worst of it subsided. She
couldn't

276
00:25:12.888 --> 00:25:17.428
Speaker 1: understand why their leader had
simply sat there watching his friends be made
fools

277
00:25:17.528 --> 00:25:22.368
Speaker 1: of. She still had green tapped. All
her green could tell her was that he intended to

278
00:25:23.148 --> 00:25:28.348
Speaker 1: peel her? What did that mean?
Catrilla glanced down at her fingernails. One of
the

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00:25:28.408 --> 00:25:32.608
Speaker 1: red fingernails had changed back to
skin tone, but the other two were still bright

280
00:25:32.668 --> 00:25:37.448
Speaker 1: red. Plenty of potential, then, to
deal with this guy. She wouldn't even need

281
00:25:37.548 --> 00:25:42.188
Speaker 1: orange. Their leader stepped forward
for a strike. She tapped as much red as she

282
00:25:42.248 --> 00:25:48.088
Speaker 1: could, lifted her chin, and stood
there defiantly to take the blow. His hand came

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00:25:48.148 --> 00:25:52.988
Speaker 1: down on her head as an open-handed
slap. A bizarre fighting technique, she thought.

284
00:25:53.388 --> 00:25:58.908
Speaker 1: His hand bounced right off her head.
And then she fell out of her body.

285
00:26:00.208 --> 00:26:04.588
Speaker 1: Catrilla lay on the floor, looking up
at the three men who held her limp body in

286
00:26:04.648 --> 00:26:10.588
Speaker 1: their hands. That That was her. She
watched their leader lift

287
00:26:10.628 --> 00:26:16.248
Speaker 1: her up over his shoulder and start
walking down the hall. This wasn't possible.

288
00:26:16.508 --> 00:26:21.727
Speaker 1: It wasn't You should follow us, he
said without looking back.

289
00:26:22.567 --> 00:26:27.048
Speaker 1: It may be a few hours until you can
re-enter your body. I don't know if it will be

290
00:26:27.148 --> 00:26:32.148
Speaker 1: moved and I don't want you to lose
it. Catrilla watched the four of them go down
the

291
00:26:32.188 --> 00:26:37.988
Speaker 1: hall. It wasn't real. She looked down
at her hands. They were still there,

292
00:26:38.128 --> 00:26:43.488
Speaker 1: but translucent. When she walked, no
sound came out. When she screamed,

293
00:26:44.008 --> 00:26:49.828
Speaker 1: no sound came out. So she chased
after the men who stole her body. Just

294
00:26:49.868 --> 00:26:54.548
Speaker 1: before she got to the door, she
turned around. There was a sensation of being

295
00:26:54.648 --> 00:27:00.368
Speaker 1: followed and an odd sound in the
distance. No matter how she turned her head, it

296
00:27:00.488 --> 00:27:06.248
Speaker 1: always seemed to come from the same
direction. A fixed point and yet nowhere at

297
00:27:06.348 --> 00:27:12.108
Speaker 1: all. A faint scratching sound, like
something small clawing at a door.

298
00:27:12.808 --> 00:27:18.448
Speaker 1: As she jogged after her body,
questions flooded her mind. She wondered if

299
00:27:18.528 --> 00:27:24.148
Speaker 1: this was what it was like to go
insane and if she could stop it somehow. How
would

300
00:27:24.208 --> 00:27:29.548
Speaker 1: she know what was real and what
wasn't? And most important of all, how

301
00:27:29.788 --> 00:27:34.888
Speaker 1: soon would she be able to get back
into her body, find the people who'd done this,

302
00:27:35.268 --> 00:27:36.948
Speaker 1: and kick them between the legs?