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CHAPTER ONE deer in headlights
⋆*✧･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ:
IMAGINE, IF YOU will, a car driving along a quiet, solitary road. It is night, and a cloudy night, too—not even the moon is able to provide some illumination to the scene. The road that this car—and it can be any kind of car; there is no need to worry about colour or make or even the era of manufacture—is driving on is shrouded with trees, further adding to the darkness. The only light in the area is the twin beams of the car's headlights, attempting to carve a path through the black. It's not enough to see very far; in fact, the driver of this car—which may be a man, a woman, or a person who identifies as neither—is growing quite uncomfortable with their significantly reduced visibility. They're considering pulling over, even if that gets them stranded in what appears to be the middle of nowhere. They're considering calling someone. They're considering continuing on and making their way into the first city they're able to.
Unfortunately, they never get a chance.
Moments ago, a deer ambled out of the trees and onto the road. Its goal was to pass to the other side—after all, it isn't like there's any source of food within the paved concrete that humans have constructed. It hurried along on its thin, wobbly legs, keen eyes seeing better in the dark than any human could.
At least, right up until the approaching headlights flash right into the deer's face.
See, deer may have remarkable eyes, but they are quite sensitive, too. So, when something as abrupt and bright as a headlight ends up cutting through their vision out of nowhere, it blinds them. All of their senses are assaulted by nothing but white, white, white, and their little brains—around half of the size of a human's—are overwhelmed. When everything is overtaken in such a manner, they can do nothing but freeze in place.
Paralyzed.
Nadine Vidal—Magician, honorary Number Eight, world-saver and time-traveller—had, quite a few times in her life, felt exactly like that deer. When she'd been so blinded with information, with tragedy, with terror that she'd been frozen, too. The day she'd woken up in the hospital and learned that she'd survived an attempted murder, the day she'd encountered said attempted murderers again, the day Vanya had slit Allison's throat. Most recently, the phenomenon had occurred a few hours ago, when she'd discovered what The Handler's true plans had been with her.
She hated feeling like that. When she was unable to move, she was vulnerable. If she was vulnerable, then she was dead. But she couldn't help it. There comes a moment when things get to be too much for you to comprehend. When all you can do is be like that deer—stand and stare.
Which was, unfortunately, what she was doing now.
It had been a long day. And not in a 'been fired from work, got stuck in traffic for an hour, and found out your favourite Chinese food place was going out of business' kind of bad day. No, it was a bad day, bad day. Not only were Nadine and her friends framed as the murderers of President John F. Kennedy—something Diego had been particularly upset about—but they'd somehow found themselves launched into an all-out war. Nadine had fought Lila, a woman she had once considered her friend, about a thousand Commission agents, and someone who had planned to kill her parents and kidnap her as a seven-year-old. Then, at the end of it all, she had to say goodbye to her girlfriend. Forever.
