"What are those words?" Stanley couldn’t help but ask.

"SH-02482? That’s my authorization code to gain access to restricted knowledge that is available in the database," Sheila said.

"Authorization... code?" Stanley questioned.

"Mhm," Sheila nodded.

"Do I have one?" he asked.

"Do you not?" Sheila asked before remembering. "Oh right, you just registered. It should be coming any time soon now. You will get it alongside your badges and chips and whatnot."

"Okay..." Stanley didn’t question any further.

A slight static sound caught their attention as they both turned their head toward the screen where the video started playing.

The young man from before could be seen on the screen, but this time around he was much clearer. He was a rather tall, handsome young man with dark hair, wearing a pair of shirts and pants that did not match the modern era.

The older man walked in from outside the door and slammed a record file on the table before sitting in the chair opposite the young man.

"I hear you are ready to speak," the man asked.

The young man nodded. "I’ve always been ready to speak. It is just your lot that can’t ask the right questions," he said.

"So, did you or did you not kill this man?" the man brought out a picture.

"I did," the young man said, even without looking at the picture.

"Why did you kill him?" the man asked.

"I told you. He was trying to kill me first. It was self-defense," the young man said. "I might have gone a little far with how violent I was."

The older man was about to say something when the younger man cut him off. "I understand how suspicious this look. A person you can’t identify, killing a well-known member of the police force. But I promise you, I did it in defense."

"So you know," the man said. "Tell us where you came from so we can ID you."

"Won’t work," the young man said. "I’m not exactly from a place you can just contact."

The man frowned. "A secret society? The underground? Are you in ties with the gangs?" he asked.

"No, no, nothing like that," the young man said. "It’s just that information about me doesn’t exist anywhere in this world. I could fake some, but I don’t see any point in that."

The man frowned. "So you come from nowhere, kill one of the best and the brightest of our police force, say that it was self-defense, and expect us to just accept it?" he asked as he slammed his table.

"Uhh... now that you put it that way, I guess," the young man said.

"Of course, you can’t," the man shouted. "He was one of the precious few whose powers could grow. Do you know how incredible those few are? And you killed one of them."

"Okay now, I’ve already said it was self-defense. If it wasn’t, I couldn’t even have killed him. He attacked first," the young man said.

"Do you have proof?" the man demanded.

"Hmm, I can tell you his motive for trying to kill me," the young man said.

The older man finally calmed a little and got serious. "Motive? What motive?" he asked.

"Give me a second. Let me check what motive he had," the young man said and cocked his head to the side. "Hmm... hmm... oh... interesting."

His words made it sound like he was learning something. "I see," the young man said. "So I came to a dumpster this time around, huh?"

"What?" the man got angry. "What did you say?"

"Nothing," the young man said. "You wanted the motive right? I got the motive. It seems the reason he wanted to kill me is because he wanted my soul."

"Your... what?" the older man couldn’t understand. "Your soul? What do you mean?"

"He wanted to kill me, and use my soul to grow his powers," the young man said.

The man frowned. "What nonsense are you talking about? Soul, spirits, those things aren’t real," he said.

"Of course they are," the young man said. "They are also two very separate things. Soul, Intelligence, and Energy are 3 sides of the same coin. Wait... that metaphor doesn’t work but you get what I mean."

"What... what are you talking about?" the man asked.

"You are here, talking with me with an intelligent mind. Did you think you could do that if you had no soul? Intelligence accompanies Souls. The more powerful your soul, the better your intelligence."

The man was confused. "I do not get what you’re trying to say," he said. "What does any of this have to do with the motive."

"Don’t you see?" the young man said. "His motive was that he wanted to kill me and acquire my soul to strengthen himself. He must have realized that people dying makes him stronger. Whether he realized if the soul was involved or not is another matter."

"Are you saying that was his motive?" the man asked.

"Yes," the young man said. "Hmm, now that I think about it, his situation is a lot similar to Nova’s. Imagining a planet with multiple Novas is quite scary."

"Nova?" the older man was confused, and so he asked.

"People with a defective soul that allows them to absorb another soul into them to improve their power. They grow by feeding on those that die around them, feeding on the souls of the dead," the young man said. "Go check your records on how and when such people have become stronger. I guarantee you, there have been people that have died around them, either accidentally, or by design."

The man’s eyes widened in shock when he heard that. If what he had heard was true, then...

No, he first needed to verify it. Still, the fact that he had most likely gotten an answer to one of the biggest puzzles in mankind’s history made adrenaline pump through his body.

"I need to verify this."

He stood up to leave, but before he did he turned to the young man. "May I know your name?" he asked.

The young man nodded. "You can call me Ning."