The next morning did little to calm poor Trudy, for the first thing she was met with was news of the previous evening's endeavour. It had been constantly relayed to her throughout her life that, to wake up and immediately face her phone would cause her stress that would ruin her day. But it had never happened to Trudy, and she had never expected it to. There wasn't much that could make Trudy stressed; often, she thought herself completely desensitised to stress. Sensible stress, at least, for she didn't think she could count stressing out about having to clean the house or shower as liable causes of stress.

This, however, was another case entirely.

'SUPERMARKET SLAYING LEAVES ONE DEAD. NINE TNM SYMPATHISERS IN CUSTODY.'

'In the ordinarily quiet suburbs of Mannat city at approximately seven p.m. yesterday evening, the body of an undisclosed cashier was discovered by PCs Helen Cooper and Martin Le. The two had been called to the scene to investigate a congregation of TNM sympathisers, only to be faced with the gory scene splayed on the supermarket's floor.

"It was carnage." commented PC Cooper. "Never have I seen an individual so brutally murdered." PC Cooper added that all nine bikers were taken into custody but that, unfortunately, three of their allies made an unusual escape.

PC Le adds "We followed sounds of a commotion to the storeroom and came across three individuals attempting to escape via a door in the roof. Cooper and I eliminated two of the three, yet the third remains to be found."

The eliminated suspects were said to have 'crumbled like dust' – PC Cooper states they were of Themar origin. They were unfortunately unidentifiable.

The third suspect remains at large. Nearby security footage shows a hooded figure wearing checkered trousers and large black boots fleeing the supermarket. Little other footage was recovered, as cameras within the crime scene had all been destroyed by the gang.

"A great tragedy has befallen our city on this day." Mayor Tallulah Ewan released in a statement this morning. "Our hearts sit with the victim's family. Trust, the perpetrators will be brought to justice. The TNM's influence may seem to grow, particularly with the attacks over the course of the past year, but we become stronger. Agents from the International Board of Themars have been deployed to the area and its surroundings and shall remain there for the upcoming days."

There was more to the article, but Trudy couldn't bring herself to continue. The sickness that had simmered in her stomach after yesterday was threatening to uncoil as she watched the glitchy security footage of herself fleeing the crime scene the night before. It was bizarre. A short figure wearing pyjamas and a raincoat. She briefly considered how lucky she was to have pulled her hood up, and to have been facing away from the cameras. But she would have to get rid of those trousers now for sure. And it was possible that, in upcoming days, footage of her roaming streets beyond those near the scene would be discovered and released. And then she would be in trouble.

All this worry had to be laid aside. Trudy was going to be late for work.

Her hair had dried awkwardly. She hadn't exactly been focusing on having perfect hair the night before, and she couldn't expect to look entirely presentable after a measly four hour sleep. Regardless, she spent an abnormal amount of time worrying over her appearance. It could be incriminating to look so disgruntled, so she dug out an old, years-expired concealer and patted it over her eye bags. Her hairbrush threatened to yank pieces of her scalp off – which only made her think of the hooded creature's peeling flesh, and she had to pause – but she suffered through it until her hair was substantially detangled, then plaited over one shoulder and thrown over it. White vest, sheer blouse, thick jumper, thicker tights under too-long trousers that had to be rolled up at the cuff. Plain and simple and inoffensive. Innocent. Apple in her mouth, Trudy had to stop herself from grabbing her raincoat. She took her long brown wool number, having to brace herself for the rain. Umbrellas and Trudy didn't typically get on. They either broke in the wind or conducted lighting, or opened indoors and gifted her with several years of bad luck, so Trudy didn't bother wasting her money there. It was at the door handle that she realised her precious moped was still at the scene of the crime. Her entire being paused. It would be discovered. She would be tracked and recognised, and thrown in jail with a bunch of thieves and murderers and terrorists for the rest of her life, she would have worked so hard for nothing, her chance with the café owner would be gone...

It was a problem for later. Trudy had struggled through worse. One more bad day was nothing to her. She could simply say that... it had been stolen by... some... stupid kids.

Biting down on her apple, she marched down the road to the bus stop.

The bus was uncomfortably humid for the middle of January. Granted, there seemed to be an individual responsible. When she had boarded, the bus driver had told her thus: "Be careful about sitting upstairs. Some sort of heat-emitting Themar is riding today.". It seemed the majority of the other passengers had received the memo too, for the bottom was crowded. Trudy stumbled her way up the stairs as the bus drove hastily on and sat just behind them. The windows were steamed up, and sitting at the front was a large individual with what looked to be a steaming cavern on the top of their head. They turned at Trudy's footsteps and sent her a sheepish, apologetic glance. The city council had been notified of such incidents lately. With the emergence of the Doors, it seemed humans were becoming more nit-picky about minor incidents such as this. Trudy used her sleeve to wipe away the condensation on the window and watched the drizzle. Cars rolled cautiously past on the wet roads, widening as they approached the heart of the city. Here and there, Trudy spotted Themars crammed into cars, tentacle arms spilling out the window, antenna poking through the skylight... humans were reluctant to modify their world, still reluctant to let the Themars coexist. Large human groups wanted to send Themars back to the islands they'd banished them to long ago. They were only egged on by political parties such as the Traditionalists, or movements like Hell Rebellion. None of which Trudy wanted to get involved with, but that her coworkers tried to press on her. It was strictly forbidden to force your political beliefs on others at the office – unless, apparently, those beliefs pertained to the extinction of Themars. Trudy was just glad that her desk was tucked neatly aside. It kept her unknown, as she preferred to be.

The bus screeched to a halt in the busy central bus station. The Themar person had departed a few stops ago, to sly comments from downstairs. Trudy had kept her eyes out the window the entire time. She watched places she knew well but had never visited pass by. The only times she had been to them was in her daydreams, of which she occupied herself with that day. Anything to keep her mind from straying back to the incident, or the fact that she was potentially a wanted criminal. Amidst it all, the thought of her moped sitting gormless outside the supermarket kept her leg bouncing. She'd have to stop by somehow. Weaving now through crowds of commuters, she pushed her way out of the busy station, down the road, until she was standing in front of the tall office building. Shaped like a U, with a small courtyard before it's big glass doors, the PP NEWS building proclaimed itself by the huge sign that certainly blocked the light from a few floors. People's Preacher was the second-largest news outlet in the country, 'keeping the people in the know, for the people matter the most'. The motto cycled across the top of the doors on an LED display, reminding Trudy of PP's methodical scrutiny when it came to reports. Sooner or later, she would be identified, and she wasn't doing herself any favours by strolling into the belly of the beast. She held onto her composure tightly during the lift ride and as she snapped her booted feet on the plastic faux-wood floors of her floor. The room she turned into was very large. People sat at their computers typing away or chatting loudly with their friends through mouthfuls of croissant, dusting crumbs off their pressed white shirts carelessly for the cleaners to deal with long after they'd left. Trudy scowled, but not so much as to bring any attention to herself. She was to remain entirely neutral, to maintain invisibility. She skirted around the busy place to her desk, tucked in the corner by the large window, and dumped her slouching bag on the floor. Leaning back in the chair, she monitored the slow release of a sigh and watched the old city whirr with its new technology. Beautiful, ancient buildings desecrated with screens advertising this and that. Some had been painted white and sported great big modern growths on their sides, with those same large glass panes that her new age seemed to adore. PP News was the monster amongst all. She was five floors up, and could see over the roofs of these old buildings. She could just about see the maze of houses that dwindled into the distance. Somewhere back there was her own. And somewhere nearby, was the supermarket that was keeping her in fight-or-flight.