BACKUPS DE STEFBAD

"Please, sir, find my son !"

The woman cries before the gruff officer, in her well-kept suburban living room. The gruff officer in front of her seems unmoved. He has seen this kind if cases hundreds of times by now, even though it has never been heard of barely a few years ago.

"Ma'am, we will do all we can to find your son. However, as is protocol since recent events, I have to warn you that even if we find him, we cannot guarantee he will look like your son or act like your son.
‒ ... I... I understand, sir.
‒ Considering he has disappeared for more than 72 hours, we have to assume that he has suffered more than that."

The officer motions to the two perky dog ears standing inside his salt-and-pepper military undercut. It's been three years and he's still not fully used to it.
At this mention, the woman starts crying again. Understandable, nobody wants to see one's own children disfigured into someone else. The officer would never be able to stomach even what happened to him being forced on his own children.

"I am sorry, Ma'am, I prefer preparing people to the worst and then finding a good surprise, rather than reassuring them even though the situation is far worse.
‒ ... Yes, sir.
‒ Now, thank you for your time and your leads, we will do all in our power to make this case reach fruition."

The woman sees the officer off, eyeing with concern the fluffy tail waggling behind his back.
He opens the driving seat of the police car parked in the cul-de-sac, but he is surprised to see a ginger young man already sat in it, a bag of donuts in hand.

"Rookie ? What are you doing here ?
‒ S-Sorry Mr. Bernhard sir, I-I didn't realize it'd go so quick !"

He goes out of the car and re-enters on the passenger side, as the older officer takes place at the driver's seat.

"I-I thought maybe you'd want a snack ?" The ginger starts, apologetic. "We've been on patrol for an hour already, a-and yeah... I didn't know what you'd like, but I took chocolate ? Everybody loves chocolate !"

The rookie hands his partner a donut coated in a dark brown lacre-like layer, sprinkled with colorful sweets.
The sweet smell of the chocolate donut enters the officer's nose, making him salivate, his stomach grumbling slightly.

"I can't eat that. It's toxic."

The car turns on, ready to continue the patrol, as the rookie's hand twitches and takes back the snack.

"I-I'm sorry, s-sir... I didn't think that..." He seems to think a bit, as the car starts moving. "W-would you prefer... t-treats ?
‒ Darya." He adresses the ginger angrily. "I'm a human. Not a dog.
‒ Y-Yes, sir..." He answers with a meek voice.

The officer does not mention the opened pack of dog treats in his kitchen, for days he doesn't want to cook.

"Back to the job if you may. Notes, rookie.
‒ Yes, sir." He takes out a notebook ans a ball-point pen.
‒ We've got a disappearance. Julian Bertolin, 21, student at Central School. I have a photo so don’t bother noting down the description, but tan, I’d say South European, short black curly hair, tall and a bit chubby, 1m83, 82kg ‒ note those last two. Last seen by his mother at around 8AM going to school, wearing black-rimmed glasses, brown chinos, white dress shirt with navy check, black city shoes with small heels and a brown messenger bag. Spends a lot of time at university, campus library, the gay bar‒
‒ Gay bar !?" The rookie suddenly interrupts. "Such a nerdy and preppy guy goes to gay bars ?
‒ Look at yourself before pretending people aren’t more complicated that what they seem, Darya."

The young officer shuts himself. He always has to teach people that some people in Afghanistan are naturally ginger, and even then many have a hard time believing this is natural. Unfortunately, his hair color gets so often restricted to Celts that many have a hard time believing that it is a natural feature of other people as well.

"Sorry, sir…
‒ So I was saying. Spends a lot of time at university, the campus library, the gay bar ‘The Kaleidoscope’ and the University Theater Troupe. Nothing unusual happened in the last few weeks, to his mother’s understanding, but his phone has not ringed since his disappearance. Start writing up a preliminary report, we will go back to the precinct to see if we pursue this case.
‒ To see if we pursue this case ? You mean that we might abandon it ?"

The older officer sighs deeply, unhappy to have to crush the kid’s dreams.

"Look, rookie, I know it’s your first assignation and all. But you do know that disappearance cases have skyrocketed in the last few years, right ?
‒ Yes ? Obviously ?" His questioning look betrays the confusion at where officer Bernhard wants to get to.
‒ Well, who do you think has to investigate all these cases ?
‒ Us ?
‒ And do you know how busy we already were before ?
‒ Yes ? I… Oh. Oh. Right.
‒ So we need to prioritize. If we focus on the easier cases we have time to save more people than if we focused on cases where we have barely any intel."

Now that he understands the cruel position we have been put in, the kid shuts up for the rest of the ride, focusing on writing his preliminary report.
Soon enough, the pull over to the precinct’s parking lot, and go towards their offices. On the way, they pass by the waiting rooms, full of people. Some have two-toned hair, others are about to burst out of their clothes, and one of them is playing with their tail. The usual, but the rookie seems disturbed at this sight, this time.

"You’re late." Comments the chief as soon as they enter the restricted area, her arms crossed in authority.
‒ Sorry, chief, we got a new disappearance case on our hands.
‒ Ugh, again…" The older officer motions his partner to print his preliminary report. "We’re not going to see the end of it.
‒ Indeed. Got Darya all disturbed.
‒ He was the one to get the deposition ?
‒ No, I did.
‒ Good." She puts her hand on the man’s shoulder. "We wouldn’t want him to feel like he has to pursue a dead case."

On that, the rookie comes back with a sheet of paper.

"The preliminary report, chief." He comments as he hands it to her.
‒ Let’s see…"

Officer Bernhard goes back to his desk. A pile of documents obscure an old photo of him, his ex-wife and his two kids, back when he was still fully human. But before he can start reviewing them, two powerful hands press down his shoulders as a powerful voice says :

"Saint Bernhard ! How’s my boy doing !"

Only one person is insensitive enough to call the officer that way.

"Brock please, stop calling me like that.
‒ But it’s funny !" Officer Bernhard turns to face the large Korean man. "You hate people being happy, don’t you ? With your grumpy face ?
‒ No to both." He much preferred when this nickname referred to his dog rather than himself. "To what do I owe the displeasure ?
‒ Still so heartless !" He feigns a heart injury. "We’re taking over the Vulpines FC case. With the scale of the thing, it’s definitively organized crime. You guys don’t have the tools to deal with it."

The officer’s tail flops down in deception that his face does not translate. He looks over his files, and hands Brock the relevant ones. The file is pretty thick, owing to the complexity of the case.

"Here you go. Good luck, Park." It does not sound genuine.
‒ Sorry, Jack…" This sounds genuine, however. "I’m sure you’ll ace the next case. You’d have aced this one if you had the right team, I’m sure of it."

He pats the dog officer’s shoulder and heads back to his own desk, leaving the one still sat more confused than anything.
The big guy has always been rough and provocative, and while it has always bothered officer Bernhard, it’s been especially insufferable ever since he got ears and a tail to mock. So to see him express regret like this is rather… unexpected.

However his confusion is not to last, because as soon as his colleague has left the room, the chief calls him back to his partner.

"Officer Bernhard ? I’m assigning you to the case of disappearance of Mr. Julian Bertolin. It would be hypocritical for us to abandon it without trying." The proud expression on Darya’s face is one of victory. This assignation is clearly his due. "Additionally, Officer Darya here is familiar with one of the areas of interest. Go find that guy !
‒ Yes ma'am."

Both partners immediately go back to the police car they just parked.

"You convinced her, didn't you ?" Officer Bernhard says as soon as they're out of hearing distance.
‒ Yes, sir. I-I thought that, maybe... I- no, I mean..." He starts spiraling, yet again thinking he did a bad thing.
‒ You did the right thing. The more you wait the harder it is to find someone who disappeared. If you can obtain good leads now, then that guy will be easier to find than any older case."

The rookie smiles.

"But for now, let's look in his last known location."

The police car meanders around the city, maneuvering through the maze of one-way streets only a local would remember. The historical buildings create an urban tapestry, sometimes interrupted by taller, squarer and more brightly painted modern towers.
Central School sits in the middle of that tapestry, a white building with tall reflective windows. The symbol of modernity... in the 80s.

The police car turns around to a local underground parking, and soon enough both enter through the front doors.

"Oh, hello officers." The man at the reception greets, a large beard hanging off his jaw. "To what do we owe your visit ?
‒ Disappearance case.
‒ Another one ?" Darya quickly takes out his note pad and notes the receptionist's surprise. "That's scary, it must be the third or fourth disappearance case in a month, for us !
‒ Do you know who handled them ?
‒ I cannot give you the name of the officers, but I can give the names of the victims, if that's useful.
‒ We could make use of that. Those disappearances may be related for all we know."

The rookie takes note of the three other missing students. All male.

"About our victim. His name is Julian Bertolin, first year of master of engineering‒
‒ Sorry to interrupt, which one ?
‒ There’s multiple masters of engineering ?" The rookie cannot help but interrupt.
‒ Yes, in fact we‒
‒ Please, focus ? Time is not on our side." Stops the older officer. "We do not have additional details, but I guess it will be easy to find on your side. We only need his schedule three days ago with all the professors he should have seen, and if you can any additional information on Mr. Bertolin’s habits, it would be useful."

Both men shut up at this order. The beaded man types on his keyboard silently, as Darya looks away, shifting around uncomfortably. After a few grueling minutes, the victim has been found.

"Ah. He’s actually in Master of Engineering IT & AI specialty. I’m printing this week’s schedule right now."

Indeed, the whir of the print machine starts shortly after this comment.

"As for his habits… He does not seem to be very implicated in campus life, but I see that he was part of the student’s list for the Pirate Party in the last uni elections. Last of the list, so he had barely any chance of being elected. I’m not sure it’s useful, though. "

He stands up to hand the schedule to the officers.

"I don’t know where each teacher is right now, but you have a good chance to see them in the teacher’s room over there," he points a large door with round little windows on top. "or the IT lab that is on the third floor, directly up to me. I’ll look more precisely at their schedule but it will take time.
‒ Thank you very much. We will come back if we need more information."

They first stop at the teacher’s room, which proves to be quite empty. The only people there were teachers in Construction Engineering, hardly the kind to know the whereabouts of their IT colleagues.
They then go up the stairs to the lab. There a series of offices, all with nameplates showing two or three researchers, is clustered around a common corridor. The officers check every door to see if any name corresponds to the professors Julian Bertolin saw three days ago.

It is only on the third door they check that they recognize a name. But knocking on the door yields no results. Pushing on the handle : it is locked.
They continue their search for a while, at some point finally finding an occupied office… but it was a colleague occupying it, who informed the officers the teacher in question was in a talk in Berlin.

The ginger felt dispirited, and debated directly going back to the reception to get the whereabouts of the teachers. But, as if he was tempting fate, the very last room they checked was occupied.

"Hello, is Mrs. Malherbe here ?" The older officer asks.
‒ Yes, it’s me." The woman answers, looking at the policemen and immediately standing a bit straighter. "What would the law want from me ?
‒ Three days ago, in your… Introduction to Big Data class, did Julian Bertolin attend ?" The rookie shows the picture on his phone as his partner interrogates.
‒ Maybe, I have a lot of students. Why ?
‒ He went missing three days ago, we are trying to reconstruct his last day."

Mrs. Malherbe’s posture suddenly shifts to one of shock and concern.

"Oh no, oh my god !" She puts her hand on her mouth. The mimic seems genuine. "I’ll tell you everything !"

The older officer makes a sign to the rookie to start taking notes.

"Julian Bertolin is a really exceptional student. He is very creative and quick in taking in new concepts. Other teachers have also taken notice of him, he will go very far. All I can say is that he was there in my class, at his usual spot.
‒ Was anything different to usual, that day ?" Officer Darya takes the initiative of asking, to the approving look of his partner.
‒ No, I don’t think so. He’s always alone, I’m not sure he can call anyone friend… Oh, actually, I remember him muttering something about tutoring during the lunch pause. I didn’t think much of it, but this might be what you are looking for ?
‒ Thank you very much, ma’am." Thanks the rookie’s partner. "Anything else ?"

She takes quite a bit of time thinking, but ends up shaking her head.

"Sorry, I can’t think of anything.
‒ That was already a lot more than we expected. Thank you very much.
‒ Just a last question, ma’am…" Asks the rookie. "Do you know where to find Mr. Younes and Mrs. Gallagher ?
‒ Mr. Younes is currently teaching third years. Mrs. Gallagher never comes here during the morning, but you’ll be able to catch her at her office this afternoon. She doesn’t have any class today, to my knowledge.
‒ We will see about Mr. Younes. Thanks again, don’t hesitate to contact us if anything comes back to mind."

The officers bid her goodbye before going back down to the reception. The man there gives them the room where Mr. Younes is teaching, but he has still got 15 minutes of class to go.

Waiting in front of the door, the rookie asks :

"Sir ? I’m sorry about earlier. I was… a bit too curious, and ended up angering you."

Officer Bernhard sighs deeply.

"There is nothing wrong about being curious. In fact, as detectives, this is one of the best qualities one can possess. However, sometimes, saving someone is a matter of seconds."

A moment of silence.

"I understand, sir." He looks back up at the door in front of which they wait. "But then, why don’t we ask Mr. Younes our questions now ? Our case is urgent.
‒ You haven’t noticed how defensive the researchers are, over here ? We won’t get anything out of them if we do not cater to them." The rookie looks pensive. "Besides, I already know Mr. Younes, and he didn’t have… the best experience.
‒ He got transformed ?
‒ It is not my place to tell what happened. But I can tell you that he has better reasons to be wary of us than simple dislike of police."

The ginger sighs. He doesn’t understand people who dislike the police like that. He always had the idea of the police as a force for good, acting against criminals and serving justice to the deserving.
His choice of carreer is controversial in his community, many family friends publicly disavow him as a result. Many hostile looks welcome him in the rare occasions his family force him to show up at the mosque.

But where that is *depressing* to him, to see unknown campus teachers give him the same look of distrust *angers* him.

After a grueling wait, the doors finally open, letting a herd of students take to the corridors. They side-eye the officers as they stand up, likely surprised, but ultimately do not mind.
Once most of the flow has calmed, the policemen enter the room, seeing the so-called Mr. Younes answer students' inqueries.

What strikes the dog-eared officer is Mr. Younes' beard. Although full, it looks quite patchy, but in an unnatural way that clearly betrays hair inplants.
The ginger officer on his hand is surprised especially by his lithe shape and big ass. They look quite out of place on the character of a stern professor, especially one who takes care to masculinize his appearance with the ivy league haircut and the tight suit squaring his shoulders.

Soon enough, he notices their presence, but he continues talking to his students, almost performatively slowing the conversation down ‒ so much so that one of his students politely ends the conversation, citing the need to go to lunch.

"Officer Bernhard ?" Mr. Younes asks as soon as the last student leaves the room. "I'd recognize those ears anywhere.
‒ Mr. Younes. I hope you are doing well, even after what you had to live through." This invites a hateful glare from the part of the professor.
‒ To what do I owe the visit.
‒ A missing student. We are tracking down the last place he was seen at.
‒ So you can do what. Stand aside as he has to shoulder the burden of the consequences alone ? So that he has to lose all his family and friends because he is made to cling to an identity that won't ever be his again ? Maybe if you refrained from *'helping'* he'd have the opportunity to live blissfully in ignorance !
‒ Sir, that is inappropriate." Tries tempering Darya, himself ticked off by his rhetoric. "We try our best to help victims to the fullest extent, but to ensure good results we need cooperation.
‒ Darya...
‒ *I* was not helped. I did not get reversed, even though I could. Where I am now is a results of *years* of therapy, that I paid for myself, and as a prize I am ostracized by my family. Do you call that help ?"

The ginger looks away, angry at the professor. He is angry at the fact he presents ‒ if they're even true in the first place, though considering Officer Bernhard's embarrassed reaction, it likely isn't. He is angry at how he cannot answer to them.
He and the police are *helping*, right ? So why does that victim resent them ? Has police really made things worse ?

"May I gove context to Officer Darya, Mr. Younes ?
‒ By all means do ! If that can break his illusions about the angels of justice, then I can even recount it myself !
‒ We handled the case of Mr. Younes three years ago. At that time, reversal protocols had barely been developped that the government made applying them to victims mandatory. However, since the technology was brand new and the enforcement... *chaotic*, Mr. Younes' case got mired in bureaucracy. His case ping-ponged between agencies, he was due to enter multiple clinics at once, and many other complications were brought up. By the time he was finally admitted to a hospital, the reversal window was fully closed. The only care that were given were deprogramming and memory unlocking.
‒ But that wasn't our fault ! And Officer Bernhard said it, it was because it was new !
‒ You don't know what it is to be branded a sinner by your family. To be subject to torture in order to drive out the devil in my body. And to have to divorce your wife when, of course, they realized that it didn't work.
‒ I wish I could have done more, Mr. Younes. I promised you that it would be okay, that we had everything under control, yet I was just as overtaken by the amount of confusion. If I could go back‒ 
‒ We can create wonderful worlds by saying 'if' after the fact. But it's not as if the injustice ended with me. I *know* that many disappearances end up never being investigated. And those who do ? Numbers show that they are more likely to be white, higher class and male ‒ the usual culprits. Disappearances of homeless people aren't even *logged* in the system. And of course, the concurrent meteoric rise of police corruption is unrelated to the character of those who are rescued. If I were to disappear now, would you even bother investigating ?"

All fall silent. The accusations are strong, and run especially true coming from a man of Lebanese descent.
Is this true ? Is that what the organization Darya's community accuses him of joining ? Is the police of justice or the police of corruption the real police ?

The rookie sighs. He doesn't know what to think about it. But for now, he needs to do his partner proud and help embody the police of justice he wants to be a part of.

"We would. And it has nothing to do with you being male, you being a teacher at a quite well-known school. If you were to disappear now, we could start investigations *now* instead of having to wait 72 hours. And each hour we lose, we lower drasticly our chances of finding the disappered individual ‒ least of all *untouched*." Darya marks a dramatic pause. "I do not know what my colleagues are doing, but I know that I would investigate your case first, so that I have ultimately more time to investigate more cases."

Officer Bernhard looks at his partner, surprised but happy at the way he takes advantage of his teachings.

"You heard the young one, Mr. Younes. If he was there back then, I'm sure everything would have turned out better." The professor stays silent a bit, as if thinking, before answering.
‒ Officer... what is your name ?
‒ Adam Darya.
‒ Officer Darya. I'm curious to see how this speech evolves once you've seen the ugly side of your job. But I think I can trust a zealous believer in justice more than than the institution that pretends to that qualifier." He looks up at the two officers. "I'll answer your questions. Mr. Bertolin is a wonderful student, I'd hate for him to end up in the same sorry state as me."

The professor finds his laptop in his bag and opens it, while the rookie takes out his trusty notepad and his partner advances to start questioning.

"So, Mr. Younes, your student Julian Bertolin was last seen three days ago at 12 AM when he left Mrs. Gallagher's class. Did you see him at your class ?
‒ No, I didn't. But I received an e-mail at... let me see... 1:13 PM from him saying that he would have to miss class due to a family emergency."

Indeed, on the professors's screen can be seen a short e-mail saying just that, that was also adressed to Mrs. Leblanc and Mr. Travellaud ‒ corresponding to the two professors the missing student should have seen next.

"Sir, I have no mention of any family emergency three days ago. That or you didn't mention it.
‒ I would have mentioned it. This means he disappeared between 12 AM and 2 PM, more likely between 12 AM and 1:13 PM. Darya, send a message to the IT department to check where his e-mail account has been accessed from, let's say over the last three days.
‒ On it !" He takes out his phone and starts writing on it.
‒ Mr. Younes, Mrs. Gallagher mentioned that Julian Bertolin was talking about tutoring over lunch, last time he was seen. Do you have any knowledge of that ?
‒ Not especially, but I *did* hear people talking about that in The Kaleidoscope.
‒ You too ?" The ginger looks up, genuinely flabbergastered.
‒ What ? It's right next to Central School, what is convenient for students is often convenient for professors as well.
‒ Not what I meant, but‒ 
‒ But we're in an investigation, rookie. Treat it appropriately seriously ‒ you did mention something about losing hours, didn't you ?"

Thoroughly humiliated, the rookie goes back to writing his message, cheeks burning at the embarrassment.

"So, Mr. Younes. What did you hear about the tutoring.
‒ Well, it *did* surprise me to hear about that, since we're neither at the beginning of the semester nor approaching exams season. But I overheard some people talking about a tutoring offer that was to be held during lunch time, and that would be rewarded handsomely. The kind of studf that puts foam in the mouth of any nerd confident in their abilities. The guy I heard talking about that was kind of a jock, the exact type to need that tutoring, but he said to the curious that details would be given for people who accepted. I don't know any more, I know he gave his phone number, but I am not used to stealing people's private information.
‒ I will grant that." Smiles Bernhard as his associate comes back, pen and paper back in hand. "Could you describe how that jock looked like, if you can ?
‒ It's been a while, so I don't think I'd recognize him if you gave me a photo. But what I remember is that he looked very much like the American jocks you see on TV. Well-built, blonde with a short quiff, beardless and wearing that colorful jacket...
‒ Varsity jacket ?" Proposes Darya.
‒ Yeah, that's the name, thanks.
‒ This will be useful to us in case it is linked." The officer's tail perks up in satisfaction. "Do you have anything more to share that would be of use in this case ?
‒ You'd be better able to answer that question than I am, officer.
‒ Then that will be all. Thank you for your cooperation, please contact us again if you have any more relevant information. We will do our best to save your student.
‒ I hope your best will suffice."

On that, both officers leave going back to their car. The rookie notes down all the information the professor gave his partner.
The latter, in passing, thanks the man at the welcoming desk telling him that they found the intel they were searching for, before finally entering the car.

"What's your read on this, Darya ?
‒ Me ?
‒ Yes, you. You're new at the job, meaning you're more likely to have a new outlook on this case.
‒ Uh... well... I am surprised that the gay bar ‘The Peacock’ seems to be coming back in frame twice in relation to this case. I'd say it's likely to hold new information ? We didn't hear anything about the theater troupe, so I think it might not be worth investigating ?
‒ Interesting read. Then instead of going back to post to see if the two other disappearances have any similar characteristics, we'll follow your lead.
‒ Thank you, sir !"

They do not have to drive far, as the club is barely a few streets ahead. Officer Bernhard reasons that it's an emergency, that they were already inside the car, and that this way they wouldn't have any parking problem. But his colleague sees through the lies ‒ it's laziness.
The car parks before the club. It is closed ‒ no self-respecting club would open in the morning ‒ but the rookie leads the pair towards the service door. When they ring the bell, it does open to the image of a very effeminate twink with a buzzcut.

"I'm sorry, guys, the club isn't open until 6..." He looks up at Darya, and suddenly surprise, then fear, then recognition and finally happineds flash through his face. "Oh, Adam honey, what are you doing here with this *hunk* of a man ? Where did you find him, he's like *totes* my type."

He licks his lips with the exaggerated posture of someone acting like the stereotype of himself. However, his eyes, inquisitive, drift up to the gruff man's dog ears.

"At the police station, Don... I present to you Officer Bernhard, my superior and partner as of today.
‒ You didn't tell me you got a boyfriend ! Congrats !
‒ No, Don, I‒ 
‒ Sir, we are here concerning the disappearance of Julian Bertolin three days ago. We would want to ask you a few questions."

He sends an angry look at his junior partner.

"Oh, I see, but your colleague already came, we're not trying to recruit dancers or anything of the sort !
‒ Colleague ?
‒ Yes ! A big asian man, he came here two weeks ago with fake accusations ! To be honest he would have made the better dancer, like !
‒ Officer Park ?
‒ I think so, yeah ?
‒ Always the one to ruin all my investigations... Our case doesn't have anything to do with his ‒ at least we don't think so." He takes out his phone and shows an ID picture of the man they're searching for. "Do you know this man ?
‒ Yes, I do ! I don't know his name, but he's quite cute and could clearly get himself some good dick if he loosened up a little !"

The officers wince at the crude comment.

"He's the one who disappeared, Don.
‒ What ?" He seems genuinely surprised. "Oh no, that's terrible ! Please, come in, let me serve you a drink ! I don't know how I can help you, but I always find talking around a drink easier."

They enter the club, unfamiliar to both officers. The dog-tailed one notes the long bar with a healthy collection of drinks, clearly the main attraction of the club. The ginger one however notes how different this place looks under bright lights, the dancing floor seeming quite a bit smaller than in his recollections.
A few technicians work on the scene, fixing the lights, sound system and many other mechanisms that are most prone to malfunction, as Don takes place behind the bar.

"So, what can I serve to two hunks like you ? If I may, we have the *best* collection of cocktails in the city.
‒ As officers on duty, we will avoid alcohol." The officer glares at the rookie.
‒ Hey ! I was about to order a soda ! I'm not dumb enough to risk a suspension first day on the job !
‒ Oh, yeah, that's right, I forgot that you two were *real officers*." Don licks his lips sensualy. "So one Breizh cola for Adam, and for his lovely partner ?
‒ Black coffee.
‒ On it !"

The twink turns the coffee machine on as he takes out a cup and two glasses. He starts by filling out the younger officer's glass, before filling his of rhum, and when the machine finished whirring, pours the coffee in the cup. He then expertly adds in ice cubes, mint leaves and a dash of cacao powder on the appropriate drinks and serves the three on the bar.

"Here are your drinks ! If you want something more fancy, come back this evening !" He winks at the older officer. "Now that we're set, how can I help you ?
‒ To start with, when did you last see Julian Bertolin ?
‒ Let me think..." He takes a sip of his drink. "Oh, yeah, I remember ! Last friday ‒ so a week ago ‒ I saw him talking with a hot guy, I was so proud of him !
‒ Do you know that person ?
‒ No, he must have been new ‒ I have *very good* face memory. However he did surprise me because Julian's type is more bears and cubs, but that guy was a big jock.
‒ Jock ?" The rookie sounds inquisitive. "Could you describe him ?
‒ He looked like a stealth, you know ? Whole demeanor *screamed* straight. Like, he was big, quite the muscular guy, brown hair in a quiff, no beard ‒ not even that mustache goatee thing ! Very chiseled, very handsome guy.
‒ He does not fit the description, but there are some similarities." Comments the rookie to his partner, comparing with previous notes.
‒ Would you say he looks like a ‘jock from American series’ ?
‒ Uh... Oh, yes, absolutely ! I *knew* he reminded me of *something* !
‒ *Here* is our link. Might be a conspiracy.
‒ Wait, Sir, do you have the photos of the other guys we saw at Central School ?"

Officer Bernhard stands puzzled at first, until he finally gets what his partner is hinting at.

"Oh, yes, I do." He takes out his phone and opens the photos of the three men who disappeared.
‒ Don, could you tell us whether you know these three ?"

He looks closely at the first picture, that of a man with round glasses, a black cloud of tight curly hair, patchy beard and aggressively checked dress shirt. But after thinking hard, he has to say no
But when the second picture is shows, that of a blonde twinky guy with stern square glasses, he quickly recognizes him.

"Oh, yeah, that's Timmy ! Oh my *god* I didn't know he wore glasses ! Though with his family, I get that he tried to separate his gay life and his school life !" But his excitement immediately falters. "I guess I didn't notice he went missing.
‒ When did you last see him ?
‒ A while ago. I can't be any more precise, he has a history of disappearing weeks to *months* at a time, so I wasn't worried he had, you know, *disappeared*. Oh, wait !" He suddenly recalls. "I think he was there at the Strip Poker night, Monday two weeks ago ! I can find the list of participants if you want..."

The bar owner starts getting up, but the older officer shakes his head.

"For now our priority is Julian Bertolin. You can send it to the colleagues after we leave, that will help then.
‒ Okay..."

Don sits back down, to a flutter of the officer's tail.

"Now, the third individual..." He swipes on his phone, revealing the image of a tan man with wavy brown hair. "Do you recognize him ?
‒ Of *course* I do !" Tears start gathering in his eyes. "It's Nathan ! I've been wondering where he was !
‒ One with blonde hair, one with brown hair. Can't be a coincidence." Cuts the rookie, eyeing his partner.
‒ I agree. Considering their files and the fact that they disappeared one week from one another, and now Julian another week thereafter, I'd say they are victim of the same individual.
‒ And the first disappearance is unrelated.
‒ Happened two weeks before Tim.
‒ Don, do you know of any weird person lurking around the bar ? As of at least two weeks ago ?
‒ Now that you mention it..." He suddenly starts shouting. "Hey, Romuald ! Come here !"

A short bald guy, skin dark and belly chubby, answers the call from the stage. He walks slowly towards the three men, salutes the officers, before sitting on a chair, visibly tired.

"How may I help you guys.
‒ Romuald you mentionned that strange guy lurking around, the officers are interested in him. Could you give them the details ?
‒ So *now* you choose to believe me, huh ?
‒ No, I always believed you ! I just doubted it needed action, that's all...
‒ Sure you did." He smirks
‒ I'm sorry, Sir, but we are running a time-sensitive investigation." The officer's tail stands up in irritation. "Could you please explain what happened ?
‒ Fine, officer..." He sighs, although he does throw an amused look at the officer's canine attributes. "I'm a technician here, but I'm also a bouncer on Fridays, and the last few weeks I've always seen a guy, white, jock, short black hair shaved on the sides. The type of guy to be a homophobic asshole. Three weeks ago he tried coming, so I asked him for his ID, but it showed the image of a meek nerdy guy with like big round glasses." Darya's eyes perk up, before continuing to take notes. "Of course, I refused him, and then he started spouting insults, telling me to go back to my country and that I'm disgusting to work here. The lot. And it wouldn't have been special if I didn't see him the next few weeks, also lurking. Didn't try to enter, but I saw him with one of his friends, a blonde jock, which entered from my colleague's side. Apparently his ID was correct. So yeah, creepy guy, and I've been asking Don here to let us refuse obvious homophobes and the like, but hasn't budged."

Immediately after finishing noting down the technician's description of the events, the rookie lunges for his partner's phone. He opens it, but finding it locked, asks for his partner to unlock it.
Once he did that, he flipped back on the photos that were just show. Flipping back to that first, seemingly unrelated disappeance case.

"Sir, did the ID correspond to that guy ?"

The technician takes the phone, holds it away, and acquiesces.

"Yeah. Also looks like that creep. Might be his brother or something.
‒ Are you positive this is the same person on the ID ?" Insists Bernhard.
‒ Yeah, there's no doubt about it. Same pose as well."

The two officers look at one another. Both understand that they found *the* essential clue that will solve the entire mystery.

"Well, sirs, thank you very much for your help. If you think of anything to add, don't hesitate to call us.
‒ Watch the news, Don, they might talk about that one ! If they don't, then I'll give you the tea personally !
‒ Not until the end of the inquery, rookie !
‒ Yes, sir !"

Don smiles and accompanies them out of the bar, while Romuald goes back to work.

"I'd be glad to hear that, *Adam the cop* !" Don laughs. "Give us back Julian, honey, it'd be a shame to never see the guy again !
‒ I promise it, Don"

Both officers go back to their car, but on their way, Bernhard, tail down, looks at Darya in the eyes.

"Rookie, never promise something that is beyond your control. Even if we find him now, who knows of he's still Julian. We cannot make sure of that at this point."

The ginger looks down.

"I understand, sir."

Suddenly an SMS. Darya looks at his phone, and smiles.

"IT texted. They say that there has been no unusual connection to his e-mail adress, but a connection corresponds to when the e-mail was sent.
‒ Where was it sent from ?
‒ The IPv6 corresponds to... let me open up Maps... Oh, the district we are in right now. Both the bar and Central School are in range.
‒ I see. Then when we go back to the station, we look for any place in this area that belongs to our suspect... Jonathan Attali, or his family. If we find one, we go take a look."

And so they did just that. Once at the station, both men retrieve all the files collected about the Attali family during the disappearance of their son. They turn out to hold quite a bit ‒ they *are* quite a wealthy family ‒ which means there is a lot to sift through.
Thankfully, they only have to search around for an hour before the rookie finds a basement-level flat right between the club ‘The Peacock’ and Central School. It nominally belongs to his older sister, but other files mention that she's currently away on an internship all the way in Japan.

"What do you think about that, sir ? It's in range, nominally unoccupied, and a basement is *great* to hide illegal activities.
‒ Good find. We will need to ask the family what is up with that place to check‒ 
‒ Sir." The rookie cuts his partner. "We should go there directly. Saving Julian might be a question of seconds.
‒ Officer Darya. There are *laws* that limit our ability to act, in case we are wrong. The evidence is high, but not overwhelming that our victim and/or suspect is there. I like your spirit, but we need to check before taking this risk."

He looks down, frustrated. But then, as if a lightbulb turned on in his head, he looked back up and asked :

"Can we call them on the way there ?
‒ That's... clearly possible..." The officer's tail perks up, betraying his excitement at the proposition.
‒ Then let's do it !
‒ Okay, okay. You drive, I call. And if I tell you to go back, you go back.
‒ Roger, sir !"

Officer Bernhard quickly takes the file containing the Attali family's phone numbers, and off both men go to the car.
Darya takes place on the left seat of the police car for the first time, eyeing the additional buttons for activating the siren and the lights.

"Don't worry, rookie, it's the same as usual." Officer Bernhard takes place on the right side, phone already in hand.
‒ Maybe. But there's all that pressure, now.
‒ Then handle it. And let it make you more prudent. You're a symbol of the law, act as such."

On this pep talk, the officer composes the number of the Attali family home. He puts a specialized set of headphones created for his upright ears, dropping down to his mouth, as he waits for someone to answer.
All the while Darya starts the drive. He doesn't use the sirens, but he still goes at the maximum speed the roads admit ‒ maybe going a bit over the limit at times. He does *not* want to take as much risks and still end up late.

"Hello, this is Officer Jack Bernhard from the municipal police. I am calling about the disappearance of your son Jonathan Attali, we have new elements that mean we might know his whereabouts. But we need to ask you a few questions to understand these elements. Could you call me back at the 06 44 68 17 09, I repeat, 06 44 68 17 09 ? Thank you very much."

He ends the call.

"Take the right at this one. The left feels shorter but with all the one-way streets you'll take more time.
‒ Really ?
‒ Years of driving through these roads."

The officer selects the second number, that of the mother of the missing person, Adele Attali. As the phone rings, Officer Darya advances through the tight roads of the city, bordered by the signature historical buildings.
Again, no answer. The older man's tail whimpers ever so slightly as he records the exact same message.

"We can't enter until we have a clear answer, rookie.
‒ The next one might answer. I prefer having to wait in front of the door than to take my time and have the intel sooner than expected.
‒ Don't be too hasty. Nowadays nobody answers unknown numbers."

The third number on the list, the dad of the missing person, Patrick Attali. Again the number rings in the void, as the car drives along the busy streets of the afternoon, people still eating in front of restaurants. Reminds both that they haven't gotten the time to eat, yet.
The same message is again recorded. But before the canine officer can sigh and move on to an international call to Japan, hoping that it won't drain his money *too* much, the number of a cellphone appears on his screen.

He immediately takes the call.

"Hello, Officer Jack Bernhard from the municipal police.
‒ Oh, thank god I didn't mess up the number !" A feminine voice can be heard. "I thought thay, after a month, Jonathan would be lost forever...
‒ Excuse me, ma'am, to whom am I talking ?
‒ Oh, sorry ! I am Adele Attali, you called me earlier‒ 
‒ Sorry to interrupt, it's an emergency, but thanks for calling back. I just quickly..." He looks up as his partner pushes him with his elbow. They're passing in front of ‘The Peacock’. "Quickly want to ask about a flat you have at... at 27 liberation street. Apparently it currently belongs to your daughter Irene Attali, but considering she's away, who is using it ?
‒ 27 liberation street, 27 liberation street..." She thinks, as Darya pulls up in front of the building. "Oh, yeah, Irene's place ! Well, currently nobody uses it, there are two sets of keys, one with Irene in Japan and one at home.
‒ Can you confirm that you still have your set ?
‒ You're lucky I'm home on Friday afternoons ! Let me see... where did I put the keys..."

As she searches, the rookie goes out of the car, and the older officer, documents and phone still in hand, follows.

"Ma'am, can you answer some questions while searching ?
‒ Yes, of course ! ... was it in the kitchen...
‒ Did Jonathan know of the flat ?
‒ Yes, he even visited with us when we took the flat. ... it *should* be there...
‒ Did he ever show any want to live there ?
‒ Of course ! He's always wanted to live there since he joined Central School like his sister... have I put it somewhere else ? ... But Irene always refused to live with him, you know how brothers and sisters are...
‒ Are you finding the keys ?" Both officer stand in front of the building. The ginger one is calling the door-keeper.
‒ They *should* be here, all the others are here ! Where could I have misplaced it ?
‒ Ma'am, could you confirm whether you have they keys, or they were solen somehow ?" The door-keeper invites them in. The rookie explains to him the situation, and he takes out the flat's spare set of keys.
‒ Stolen... No, they couldn't ! But...
‒ Did your son steal the spare keys ? This is urgent !" All three men take place in front of the flat. Officer Darya makes a sign to the janitor to hold off, looking intently at his partner.
‒ Jonathan... Oh. He could have. Yes, in fact, considering I can't find them.
‒ Do you confirm you don't have the set of keys ?
‒ ... Yes." She finally admits, after a drawn out sigh.
‒ Thanks I'll call later." Officer Bernhard finally makes the sign to go, go, go.

The janitor opens the door, while the rookie takes out his gun, and his partner does as such after quickly putting away his phone and headphones, not bothering to unlink them.
The room behind it looks like a normal, empty appartment, but there are clear signs of recent use ‒ pizza boxes, cans of beers and tons of everyday items thrown around.

But, as both officers search the room for any human, they hear a weird, low rumbing sound coming from below their feet.
Opening each door in turn, showing a bathroom with a shaver on the sink and a bedroom with undone cover, they finally find a door on the back of the flat opening on a set of stairs which abruptly turn left.

They cautiously engage, rookie first and gun armed. As they descend the concrete stairs, the rumble becomes more pronounced, yet the room is dark, and clearly filled with laundry machines, drying racks and a big boiler.
The older officer's ears turn, picking up on the origin of the rumble, and he confirms with a sign of his head that it does not originate from the machines, but rather from the wall in front.

The rookie gives a questioning look, as he does not see any door. Have they gone through the wrong flat ? Is it actually just the neighbor's noisy washing machine ?
His partner puts his ear on the wall, and starts grazing it. In addition to the buzzing sound there seems to be another, much higher sound. Irregular, and strangely familiar.

A voice.

He does a sign to the ginger who starts also touching the wall, though he isn't quite sure what they are looking for.

The former cannot understand the words he is perceiving, but his sharpened canine senses can discern the voice of a man. One with a slow cadence even though the strain on his voice carries excitement. There is also a raspy quality to it, as if that man was straining his vocal folds to put out a voice deeper than he actually has.
Clearly, the man he hears has at the very least some kind of admiration or want to imitate jocks ‒ if he is not already a jock himself. This corresponds to all the clues both men found in their inquiry.

He tries to mime to his partner what he found: one voice, jock, the guy we're searching for. Darya is confused at the last one.
But before he can try to mile again, his hand feels the smallest ditch in the wall. Touching it up, he finds it is a long line going up and down, around the size of a door. And the rookie, who has been edging closer to his partner, seems to have found another one, around one door-length from him.

They found a secret door, flush with the wall. And considering how shallow the line is, almost invisible even with perfect lighting.
They ready their guns, and the older officer starts carefully pushing, making the wall open. With a sign of the head, it is another push, this time much more agressive.

"Police ! Freeze !" Officer Bernhard shouts as he takes place to the right of the door, Officer Darya taking place to its left.

But neither could have predicted the scene before them.

On the left is a muscular man, attached to a chair, looking visibly dazed. His skin is tan, his hair black and curly and is clearly taller than average. Save for the chiseled jawline, big Adam's apple, popular jockish haircut and, *of course* massive muscles, he is the portrait of Julian Bertolin.
Above him, offset a bit away in front of him, sits a massive gun-like instrument, sticking out from the ceiling. There are tubes going all over the structure, but the little cannon sticking out is firmly targetting the man tethered on the chair. It... *really* looks like a villain's torture laser.

On the right is a small room covered in windows, with a clinical door on the side. It looks like an observation room, especially considering all the technological equipments, notepads, and, of course, man sat in front of a mike operating it.
He is just as jockish as the other man, but his face is a lot fairer, and the short undercut of black hair is curled a lot tighter. He also seems to be actively taking pleasure with a douchey smirk befitting his angel eyes but cut jawline.

"Oh, who do I see here ?" A raspy low voice suddenly comes from a speaker, clearly coming from the jock in the observation room. "You came just in time ! When I push this button, you'll have to choose whether to save his mind or save his sin ! Hahahah !" A true vilain laugh.

Without waiting any further, as the officers start moving, the jock pushes the button. The gun-like instrument starts charging, lights appearing on the side as its rumbling's pitch ascends and ascends... until a lazer is shot out, in direction of its victim...
But Officer Darya had immediately understood what was about to happen. So as the gun was charging, he rushed towards the tethered man, placed himself between the gun and the victim, and...

Before he could throw the man down, he was struck by the ray.

"Noo !" The man in the observation room suddenly stands up. "You can't do that, he was the result of three days of work ! And you just put it to the bin !"

He starts rummaging through his things.

"Ugh, well, at least, I'll make myself useless to you by locking my memories !
‒ I wouldn't do that, if I were you."

The jock finds a gun to his back. Sighing, and still intelligent enough to understand his defeat, he raises his hands up in surrender.

"Jonathan Attali, I arrest you for kidnapping and illegal use of transformative devices. You have the right to remain silent, everything you say can be held against you." Officer Bernhard declares solemnly.
‒ This is unjust. I'm doing a societal good by straightening these fags right back to the right path.
‒ Good or not, you have no right to do that through illegal means.
‒ There is *no* way to do it through legal means ! The wokes have made it so it's impossible to become normal again ! I *had* to use this machine to fix myself !"

The jock's speech is seething of hate, but the officer handcuffs him diligently, not listening to one word. Unfortunately, it seems that yet again a mad man is to blame. Just like every single other case.

"Darya, how are you holding up ?" He asks as soon as the suspect is apprehended. Yet it is not followed by an answer. "Darya ? ... Rookie ?
‒ It's useless, officer. That last ray was there to make sure Julian was nice and dumb enough not to try and mess himself up. Considering how smart he still is, I had to make the effects rather... *strong*.
‒ Are you insinuating Officer Adam Darya is dumb ?" His brow furrows in burgeoning anger. "He proved himself to have more acumen, more introspection and more instinct that you'll ever have. Now, shut up."

As soon as the ginger heard his name, however, he stood back up.

"Uhhh... You called me ?" He says with a slow, dumb-sounding voice.
‒ Yes, Darya ! How are you doing after receiving that ray ?
‒ Uh... Good huhuhu ! And funny !
‒ Is *that* your officer that has more acumen, introspection and instinct thay me ? I am disappointed, officer..." The jock comments with a catty, almost *camp* voice.
‒ Shut up. You know it's *your* fault, right ?" He quivers at the officer's angry retort. "Darya, can you liberate the victim ?
‒ Libe-what the... vic-thing ?" A short silence follows, but before his superior can elaborate he is struck by genius. "Got it, man !"

And then he dances triumphantly, at the utter confusion of everyone in attendance, though this *does* draw a smile and almost a quip from the suspect ‒ aborted when he saw the *irritated* look on his captor's face.
But with all that ruckus, suddenly the victim starts moving, slowly coming back to his senses as the sedatives wear off.

"What... what is happening ? Dude, why am I still here ? The fucking cops haven't come already ?" He sounds a bit confused in these harsh words spoken with an uncharacteriscally soft voice. But then, he notices the ginger dancing weirdly in front of him, dressed in cop clothes. "Bro what the hell, this... I'm dreaming, right ? That's not fucking possible.
‒ Officer Darya !" His partner calls. "What are you *doing* !
‒ I'm li*ving* the vic*tory*, dude !" An intense wish to facepalm traverses the canine one. If only he didn't have to restrain the handcuffes one.
‒ I told you to *li-be-rate* the *vic-tim*, Darya. Not to do a weird braindead dance !" He stops his dance, but his face tears into a disappointed grimace.
‒ Eh... that's not nice..."

The suspect suddenly laughs, unable to contain himself.

"Okay, I admit I overshot on that one, even Julian would have become a vegetable !
‒ You *dare* speak again ?
‒ Uh..." Suddenly cuts the victim, before the officer can brutalize the suspect. "Are you the cops ? 'cuz that guy's been messing with my brain so much I think I can talk to that fucking idiot."

The tone of voice yet again does not fit the word choice, but his eyes look sincere.

"Go for it. What can we lose...
‒ Thanks !" He sticks out his tongue, before adressing the still sad ginger. "Yo, dude I'm doing a sick challenge no cap ! Bruh the one who'll free me from that rope's gonna win big ! And you're right here, all my bros have to come down here, so you can easily be first and beat all the dumb NPCs, man ! So, wanna be the winner ?
‒ Yeah, dude ! Fucking hell I've *always* wanted to win a challenge !"

He immediately starts work on untying the victim. He is very inept at it, and at multiple points he even inadvertently tightens the rope further. But through flailing around little by little, he ends up managing to loosen the rope just enough that the victim can start untying himself.
In the meantime, using a single hand and this time only having to worry about the man in his grasps, the older officer calls reinforcements. He quickly gives the adress and asks for a couple of officers to handle the victims and examine the lab, as well as enough ambulances to carry two victims. Hopefully they'll be able to reverse most of the damage.

And on that, the four men ‒ two leading and two being led ‒ get out of the building, greeting the evening sun as emergency vehicles soon converge on their position.

Officer Bernhard sighs of relief. He was able to save this one, and from the looks of things he'll still be reasonably himself after reversal. And he has likely managed to solve four disappearances at once, to boot ‒ though one of those was that of the perpretator.
He looks at his partner, Adam Darya, being taken to an ambulance by two nurses. This guy will go *very* far, most of those incredible results were thanks to his wonderful instinct. If he can gather experience on the job and calm down on the use of *extra-legal* means to bring justice, he'll become the best detective in the block.

But for now, he much prefers smiling at him bumbling as an idiot as he is taken to the ambulance.



"Hello, sir ! Thanks for coming to visit !"

Adam Darya, dressed in white hospital gowns, smiles at the man with canine features entering.

"You can call me by my name out of shift." His tail moves, betraying his excitement at seeing his protege standing up as if nothing happened.
‒ Your name ? Bernhard ? Jack ? ... Er, now not for now, it feels weird...
‒ Granted ! So, how are you holding up, after becoming dumb ?
‒ They've reversed me, sir !
‒ Are you sure ?" He teases.
‒ Yes I *am* !" He sounds offended. "They said that this soon after the change they can revert basically anything !
‒ Hahah, sorry, I was teasing you !" A smile comes across Bernhard's face, which *does* surprise Darya. "So, want to walk around ?
‒ Yes, of course !"

He quickly reaches the door and opens up the path for his partner ‒ who is the man with dog features, actually ?

"Sir, where is the investigation at ?
‒ Right down to business I see ! It'll be very useful in the future." He raises his eyebrow and leans into the rookie, trying to face him. "If you can remember that sharing details about an ongoing investigation publically is dangerous. Like you did at the club.
‒ Oh no, I'm sorry sir !"

He laughs.

"Don't worry. Just come with me to the doctor's office, I'm also here to hear their conclusions. This way you'll be informed as well.
‒ Th-Thank you, sir !"

They walk over to there, and entering the room they meet the surprised look of a doctor, expecting them. But Officer Bernhard informs him that the man in hospital gown is his partner, the one that saved the victim from yet another change. Clearly someone privy to the informations to be communicated.

"So, what did you find about the victim ?
‒ Well, Officer Bernhard, you mentioned that the suspect said something to the effect of if the victim received that last blast we would have to choose what to save ? This was actually entirely true, thanks to officer..." He looks at the ginger.
‒ Darya. Adam Darya." He says.
‒ Yes, thanks to Officer Darya we were able to reverse most mental changes."

The rookie looks a bit confused at the doctor, who sighs before giving some details.

"The efficacy of reversal depends on both how long since the change occured *and* the amount of changes.
‒ Oh, I see !" The rookie smiles.
‒ Speaking of, it seems that the suspect is very knowledgeable of reversal therapy, or at the very least very knowledgeable of Molecular Transmutation. We found an unusually high quantity of Zhang's gamma particles, which suggests that he has been careful to generate as much as possible ‒ likely by making the changes really slowly.
‒ This lines up well with what the engineering teams found. They said that the machine was unusually sofisticated, yet inefficient because it was regulated to make changes as slow as possible. That he was trying to generate more gamma particles would be a good explanation."

In face of those highly technical terms, Darya feels a bit lost, but tries adding in :

"I-I don't know anything about... *particles*, but it lines up with the rythm of changes : it seems that Jona‒ the suspect changed the victim over three days, at which evening the victim turned accomplice would go find another victim.
‒ You can say the name of the suspect, Darya." Instructs his partner at the hesitation. "But yes, everything points to this being a deliberate choice.
‒ What happens when you have a lot of those... *gamma* particles ?
‒ Zhang's gamma particles are considered to be stabilizing particles. They serve to make the change permanant by deactivating Zhang's alpha and beta particles while conserving their inprint and transferring it to the body. We don't know much about this whole world, it's still very new, but having more gamma particles make the chages hard to revert, since we can only act on the beta particles.
‒ Oh, so then when you add more gamma particles by maybe adding a change, there are more particles in general that can ‘absorb’ the remaining beta particles, meaning you can revert less ?
‒ Exactly." He looks back at the canine officer. "You found a good one, never seen anyone get it this fast.
‒ What can I say, I *know* he's going to go far."

Darya reddens at the compliment.

"So, Doctor, what else did you find about the victim, before we get even more distracted ?" The officer side-eyes the rookie.
‒ Oh, yes. Well, not much more, actually, once Zhang's gamma particles degenerate into eta particles I'll be able to lean more. The most interesting is what I found on your suspect.
‒ You found something ?
‒ Yes, he *clearly* has a bunch of eta particles in his body. Significantly less than what the victim will end up with even now that he's reversed, mind you. But the interesting thing is that I found markers of the B group on his eta particles, which means that he was also *mentally* changed.
‒ Are you sure ?" Asks Darya. "Nothing on him felt out of place, you know ? Besides the physical changed, he was exactly what you'd expect from an incel ?
‒ Understanding why is your problem, I'm only here to state facts."

A bit of silence.

"Well, thank you for your cooperation, doctor, it will be very valuable. Do you have any additional questions, Darya ?
‒ Uh... Yeah, what will happen to the other victims ? Will you be able to save them in any way ?"

The doctor looks at the older officer.

"He's new, right ?" Bernhard acquiesces, while the doctor snaps his gaze back to the ginger. "Considering the effects of this machine, if you find them we won't be able to do anything. There is no hope of reverting them back, and considering the amount of gamma particles in our current victim, the amount of eta particles it will yield makes me think they'd be immune from any more changes for 40 to 50 years. So even if we develop recovery transformation by then, they'd have lived more time transformed than in their original state. It would be immoral to bring them back to normal. So, to answer your question, we'd only be able to tell them that they were transformed and have a real family.
‒ Oh, I see... But how come you haven't developped it already ? Surely you can hijack Jonathan's machine ?
‒ Only the one who has built the machine can use it. As long as Jonathan is kept away from this machine, nobody will be able to use it.
‒ Why ?
‒ Why ? Hah ! The biggest question of our time !" He laughs. "Conference me would answer that it is likely that the technology at the root of all this mess had a biometric component. But scientist me will tell you that there is something we *fundamentally don't understand* about our world, and that thing is giving to the *maddest* of people the power to reshape reality.
‒ Really ?
‒ Yes." He sighs. "We are running against the clock trying to develop ourselves the necessary tools to get this situation under control. We are lucky that we have been able to keep it under control for thos long. But what do you think will happen once people realize that many citizens of this country are simply unregistered, and so unreachable by the arms of the law ?
‒ Lawlessness." The canine officer answers in Darya's place. "You know those conspiracy theories saying that society will collapse due to these changes ? Well, they are correct. We've just been able to delay the date upon which it will happen."

The room falls silent. The older officer bids goodbye to the doctor, and him and his partner leave the room to walk back to Darya's bed

"That's depressing...
‒ Welcome to our reality, Darya. And you're part of those who fight to gove the scientists enough time to find a *real* solution."

And on that, the officers leaves Darya to his room.

Another case close, but so many more yet to be studied.