13.x (Bonus Interlude; Aisha)

The user wants a summary of chapter 13.x from the web novel Parahumans. The summary needs to be in the same style as the author, compressed to about 1/5th of the original length, and formatted in markdown.

Plan:

1. Read through the chapter to understand the main events and themes. 2. Identify key plot points and character interactions. 3. Rephrase the content in the author’s style, focusing on concise language and vivid descriptions. 4. Compress the information, ensuring all essential details are retained while removing redundant phrases and less important subplots. 5. Maintain the author’s narrative voice and tone. 6. Format the summary in markdown. 7. Double-check the word count and compression ratio. ### Chapter 13.x Summary (836 words)

“Sam! Sam!” Celia’s voice grated. The heavyset man, Sam, lumbered in. Celia, in a white t-shirt and panties, sat on the floor. Sam leered. “Takes you five minutes to find your wallet?” Celia snapped. Sam tossed her a movie rental card. She cut open a block of powder, arranging lines on the coffee table. “You’re not having any?” Sam asked. “I told you. I’m pregnant.” Jennifer appeared, staring. “I didn’t think you’d actually use any of the stuff.” Celia explained how they’d gotten the drugs after the Merchants fell apart. “Little bit of everything.” Sam tasted some. “H.” Jennifer recoiled.

Aisha watched, detached. Disappointment, embarrassment, disgust. But the pregnancy punched her with sadness. Her mind jumped to a bleak hope – a miscarriage. How much was her mom, how much the environment? Men cycled through, each with their own rules. Thinking about them was like a dull ache, a broken arm. Being ignored by her brother and Skitter mirrored this.

“Sam, do you have any papers?” Celia asked. “It’s just weed. I need to have something.” Aisha bit her lip. Maybe hope was wrong. Maybe it’d be better if the kid was spared this. She’d spent years seeing her mom’s lack of control.

“Come on, Jennifer,” Celia urged, puffing a spliff. “Oh fuck! Sam, you jackass! This isn’t just weed, is it?” “Thought it was.” “There’s a kick to it.” Aisha walked to the table, unnoticed. A dark joke – as she figured things out, the world went to hell and she got her power. Invisible if she lost concentration. Not truly invisible, but forgotten. Her power pushed memories away. Like the broken arm, if she didn’t push, she could sense it doing more, pushing away memories unrelated to her, but it retreated if she noticed. Frustrating.

How easy to just take the drugs? Give them to Coil. But likely someone would get violent. Idle hopes of her mom pulling it together. She sat opposite her mother, plucked the spliff, and crushed it. Her mother blinked. “Sam? Got any more papers?” Aisha covered the papers. “No.” More blinking. “Sam?” “Kitchen.” “But I don’t want to get up.” “You keep going down this road, your kid is going to be born without a face or something,” Aisha said quietly. “You know how hard school was for me?” “Go get some papers, Sam.” “I don’t want to get up any more than you do.” “Mom,” Aisha tried. “You’re going to have some fucked up kid, and then you’re going to die of an OD.” “Fine,” her mother said, standing. Aisha sighed. Cowardice or experience? Maybe if things with the Nine worked out, she could get her mom help. But not now.

Aisha went to her old room. It smelled of sex and urine. Girl guide stuff in the back, with a tape recorder and binoculars. Old notebooks. Everything went into a handbag with her taser and knives. Small comforts. The Merchants’ attack on her mom’s place was a starting point.

Worse than expected. Police tape, PRT vans. Blood spattered the streets. White and brown sheets covered bodies. The worst carnage at the edges and center. Hoped for a lead. Overabundance of evidence. Cops worked silently. If something was to be found, not here. Blood near the police cars, but victims gone. Ambulances? Next alleyway, same. Third blockade offered something – thicker blood. Smear on a building. They’d gone this way. Rain masked the trail. Men outside an apartment building – detectives. Blood on the lobby door.

Elevator out. Blood on the stairwell. Dragged body. Stupid idea, but she went up, taser and knife ready. Third floor, blood to one apartment. Power active, she pushed inside.

Only a few of the Nine. Crawler slept, massive. Shatterbird and Burnscar on the couch, Burnscar with flames dancing. Bonesaw at the table, a mechanical spider assisting, a bound man open on the table. The spiders. One moved past her, unnoticed. She moved further in. Could slice Shatterbird’s throat, but Shatterbird would kill her. Or Burnscar or Crawler.

Walked to Bonesaw. Could she kill the kid? Removing Bonesaw would help. But murder, a kid. A squeaking sound. Air escaping. Bonesaw smiled. “You’re going to have to speak up if you want me to hear you, Jonathan.” His heart beat in Bonesaw’s hands. Horror gave her strength. “Sorry kid,” she said, plunging the knife into Bonesaw’s throat. Bonesaw screamed, shrill. Pulled the knife, slashed. No blood. Stabbed her eye. Flame erupted, glass flew. Crawler stood. “Ow, ow, ow, ow!” Bonesaw shrieked. “It hurts!” Why isn’t she dead? Taser ready.

“Is it Jack?” Burnscar asked. “It’s not Jack,” Bonesaw said. The spider sutured her neck. “I gave Jack the same safeguards.” Shatterbird scowled. “Then who or what was that? Crawler, do you know?” Crawler blocked the hall. “I don’t smell anyone.” Smells can’t find me. “Torch the apartment?” Burnscar asked. “No,” Shatterbird said. “Cherish has a hard time tracking Mannequin.” “I’m okay,” Bonesaw said. “Quiet,” Shatterbird cut in. “It’s about the audacity. Burnscar, put out the fires.”

“Really hope you don’t have another way of sensing me, big guy,” Aisha said to Crawler, ducking past him. None reacted as she left. Lesson learned – the ‘vulnerable’ Nine weren’t. Sheaths?

Detective dead in the lobby, throat slit. Two blood trails to the manager’s office. Weapon drawn, she reached for the knob, colliding with Jack. “What’s wrong?” Cherish asked. “Nothing,” Jack said. “You grab the last body.” Aisha watched Cherish drag the body. Her heart pounded. Another chance. Attack one while separated. Which?

Followed Cherish into the office, shut the door. “Put the weapon away,” Cherish said quietly. “You can hear me?” No response. “Put it away, or I’m going to leave you quivering.” “You can’t hear me.” Cherish whirled. “I’ll scream. He’ll come in here.” “It’s not invisibility.” “Put your weapon away,” Cherish said, measured. “We only have a few seconds. Listen. I want to strike a deal.”