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‘What the--?’ Hector blinked. ‘Why didn’t you just say that from the beginning?’

‘And pass up an opportunity to impress you with my wealth of knowledge? No way.’

‘...That was supposed to impress me?’

‘Oh, fuck right off.’

For a moment, Hector was able to crack a meager smile.

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Damian Rofal picked his nose as he watched the coroner pull back the sheet, revealing Geoffrey’s pallid face.

‘Must you do that right now?’ said Feromas.

‘Do what?’ To Damian’s eyes, the reaper looked like a sour-faced jester. The colorful, motley attire had never matched Feromas’ personality very well.

‘Forget it.’

“Yeah, that’s him,” Damian told the coroner. “Except, it’s not him, is it?”

“Eh--sir?”

Feromas floated over the body. ‘Hmm. Did we ever learn what Geoffrey’s power was?’

“It was Domination,” said Damian, thoughtless of the other person in the room. “Don’t you remember all the puppets he left behind?”

‘Right, of course. So he really could have body jumped, then.’

Damian tilted his head. “How many other bodies arrived yesterday?”

“Oh, um--” The coroner stiffened and adjusted his glasses. “There were quite a few, actually. Would you care to see them, Mr. Rofal?”

“Please.”

They entered a much larger room. A good three dozen tables stood from wall to wall, and upon each was a body. Damian and Feromas took separate aisles, searching.

“Most of them appear to have died via suffocation,” said the coroner. “But there were also a few cases of dismemberment and disembowelment. Are you, perhaps, looking for one in particular, sir?”

Damian ignored the man. “Ah! Found him!”

Feromas floated over. ‘So he really is dead after all.’

“Shame,” said Damian. “I had high hopes for him.”

‘This changes things,’ said Feromas.

“Indeed.”

“Ah, that one is--umm--” The man flipped the card by the foot to read. “--Samuel Goffe.”

“I don’t care,” said Damian. “Please be quiet.”

The coroner backed away without another word.