“Nine point eight percent,” she managed.  Was she being carried?  They were venturing inside, past the first of the two heavy vault doors.

Alright, so the chance is three times higher for Noelle to kill them than Crawler, but still significantly lower than the chances of Crawler killing them if they stay out. Sounds good to me.

How much time had just passed?  Where was Trickster?

Her grip on the present moment just keeps getting weaker.

“That’s good information to have, pet,” Coil said, from somewhere near her.  “Squad leaders.  As you gather inside the containment room, I want you organizing your troops into ranks, your backs to the door.

Ahh, that’s fair. So is that to defend against Noelle?

Weapons need to be locked, loaded and ready to fire.  Be sure to equip the laser attachments and battery packs.  Don’t venture any further than ten paces inside.”

I doubt Trickster’s gonna like this plan, even if it is necessary.

“Pet, it’s the last question we’ll ask you tonight.  I promise,” Coil said.

So she did.  She reached for the number.  It can’t kill me.  It doesn’t do permanent damage.  It just hurts.  It’s my brain telling me my power shouldn’t be used to find answers like that.

Is it? I suppose that makes some sense.

With most other powers we’ve seen, the host body (including the brain) has seemed to be fine with the use of the power, though in some cases not fully capable of using its more intense abilities due to the rest of the body’s inability to handle the results (such as getting knocked out by sensory overload). But I suppose what’s happening here is along the lines of the sensory overload thing, and the brain saying “don’t do this” because it’s too much.

The words she used to convince herself did little to soften the pain that came with digging for a number once more.  She screamed, and tears flowed down her face as she sank into Sundancer’s arms, screwing her eyes shut.

I wonder how Sundancer is going to look at Coil and Trickster after this. She’s rightfully horrified by what they’re forcing this 12-year-old girl to do to herself, and she’s demonstrably attributing it to the right people – she said Coil was killing Dinah, not that Dinah was killing herself.

“Reassuring,” Coil said.  The vault door opened before them.  “Trickster?  Would you announce our imminent arrival to Noelle?”

“Yeah,” Trickster sighed.  “Fuck.  I hate to do this, but can I get a number?”

For what, Noelle hurting or killing you?

“Trickster!” Sundancer admonished him, sounding horrified, “You can see how much pain it’s causing her.”

Again, Sundancer is a Good.

“It’s important.  Kid, what’s the chance that Noelle kills us?”

There was another series of crashes, closer.

Dinah shook her head, “Please.  I just want to put everything back together.  Every time I use my power, it all falls apart and it hurts.”

It is a pretty important question, especially if Dinah was looking for a timeline where they survived Crawler specifically, though I don’t think she was. The lower chances getting killed by Crawler could be caused by getting killed by Noelle instead.

“I need to barf.”

Coil set her down and held her by the wrists as she leaned forward to cough up mouthfuls of bile.  Her stomach was already empty of food.

Yeeah. Ew.

“The number, pet?”

Sundancer bent down to hold her, so her shoulders weren’t being twisted with her arms held behind her by Coil.

She can’t, Coil.

“Three point one percent,” Dinah gasped out.

Oh, looks like she can, just barely.

And those odds look a lot better. Good work, Dinah. I wish you hadn’t had to do it, but good work.

“Pet, the chance that Crawler kills us, now that we’ve undertaken this route?”

“I don’t.  I can’t.”  Her head hurt so much.

You’re on your own now, Coil. You’ve burnt out your seer.

“Try,” and in his hard tone, she heard the unspoken threat of having her candy taken away.

She did.  The scenes had no order to them.

Oh, so it is still possible for her to do it at this point, but it’s messed up, and if she does it too much, it’ll probably go badly.

They were all jumbled, and trying to pull some semblance of order and sense into them was like thrusting her hands into fire and razor blades, thrusting her mind into fire and razor blades.  A long groan of pain was drawn from her throat, and the strength went out of her body.

She can see things, but she can’t organize them like she usually does to get the numbers.

“You’re killing her!” Sundancer gasped.

“No,” Coil said, as if from a place far away.  “I’ve had her use her power to check.  This may be miserable for her, but she can’t die from it.”

Oh right, that was mentioned earlier.

Coil touching her, that overpowering phantom smell, the fear, the nausea…

If there’s anything left in Dinah’s stomach, I doubt it’s staying there very long.

Coil took the stairs two at a time as he descended to the ground floor, Trickster, Oliver and Sundancer hurrying after him.

Hey, Crawler, you stand out there and count to 200…

“You,” Coil called out, not even bothering to recall the employee’s name, “The vault door.  Open it.  Squad leaders, organize your groups!”

Why? Shouldn’t they be coming in too? I don’t know if they need organizing for that.

There was a faint crash in the distance, and a vibration rippled through the complex.

Hello! Please, come in.

Don’t forget to wipe your claws on the welcome mat!

Coil turned and swept her up in his arms.  Her skin crawled at the contact of her body against his.

Ugh.

She didn’t say or do anything about it, in part because she wasn’t able, too sick, hurting too much.  The other reason was because she had seen the numbers shift each time she flinched away from his touch or made her disgust known.  Little differences.

Hm, that’s odd. The numbers do seem to already incorporate Dinah’s possible actions like everyone else’s, so is this a side effect of Coil’s power?

He was angrier with her, more curt, if she pulled way, if she complained about it.

Yeah… Classic abusive behavior, training her into not complaining.

There was safety in the numbers, in following the rules she set on herself.  It kept her power in order, it ensured Coil was tolerant with her, and it meant she didn’t have to go without her candy for even a short time.

The rules?

“Noelle’s room,” Trickster said, an instant before Dinah put the pieces together.

“How many of us, pet?”

How many are there room for?

“Everyone here was there,” she looked towards the soldiers.

In other words, it’s getting further reinforced that they shouldn’t even bother trying to defend the base.

“Is she in there?”

“She was.  Yes.”

Also, this. I got the sense last time that there was a risk of Noelle having bursts of violence, and that was why they kept her in the vault to begin with.

Hm, I suppose it does make sense that if the vault is built to keep Noelle in, it might also keep Crawler out.

Dinah tried to recall what she’d seen.  “Darkness.”

Even in a timeline where they survived? We don’t have time to bring in Grue, even if his power could help out, so are we going for some form of dark hiding spots? I wouldn’t think it’d be an escape tunnel, unless the chance of survival if they leave has drastically increased.

“You mentioned that earlier, pet.”

“We were in the dark, and it smelled like meat.  It smelled like sweat, too.  And we were all pressed in close together.”

Hm, yeah, looks like it. Meat, so some form of pantry for the base kitchen?

Sweat could be just from the amount of people in there, but I suppose some rooms in the base could naturally have that scent. Like the training area’s lockers, or the laundry room.

“Where?” Coil asked.

“There was a metal door in front of us.  Big.  The vault door downstairs.”

…they’re hiding with Noelle?

I suppose that would be a good opportunity for some more clues as to what’s going on with her.

Then again, if Crawler has a high chance of going for Noelle first, wouldn’t that be the worst hiding place, as long as he can tell where she is?

“I know, but pressuring her won’t help anything.”

A smell hit her.  Like the bitterest black chocolate in the world and overly strong coffee, the odor so thick on the air that she could taste it.  With her already upset stomach, it made her want to retch.

Would this be Crawler?

“Smells bad,” she said.  “Make the smell go away.”

“She’s conscious.  Is this smell a clue?” Trickster turned.

Hm, does he not smell it himself?

Is it all in her head? Maybe something from the future she looked into?

“No.  It’s a symptom,” Coil answered him, not turning to look at her or them.  “She may be dizzy, dazed, or she may rub or scratch at herself until she fully recovers.  Don’t let her scratch her corneas or rub herself until she bleeds.”

…

He’s done this before.

It’s unclear whether Dinah remembers him doing this before, whether she’s been through this at his command before, but he’s done it.

Enough that he’s so aware of the symptoms that it’s like he’d read up on it on some medical website.

How many alternate Dinahs did he do this to?