The really alarming thing about the psychic message is how short it is. Feliks lies awake for a few moments, watching Fai blink his eyes open in the same confusion, half-hoping for some kind of follow-up, like I'm sorry, Daydreamer, I meant to contact someone else, like the old man midnight-texted him right into his brain.

Instead, he can hear people bursting out of their rooms and making a fuss, and somehow, all he can think for a second is God, again? There'd better not be robots this time.

By the time he stands up, he's turned his nightgown (long and off the shoulder, a fancy thing Fai got for him in London) into his X-uniform -- though he's still barefoot, with nothing to turn into boots. He grabs a bag that he keeps near the bed full of his essentials (hair spray that he can turn into mace, bobby pins that can double as lock picks, and so on), grabs his phone, and hurries out of the door, into the staff housing hall, and down into the common areas, looking for trouble.

"God, what's the deal with people always coming in the middle of the night? It's like there's some kind of bylaw in the Assholes Union about not letting us get any sleep! It's totally their fault if I break out to the max tomorrow."