Umbra hissed out a long, slow breath, the sound sliding past her teeth before she could stop it. It did little to calm her. No matter the era, no matter the world, bureaucracy always found a way to sink its claws into everything and slow it to a crawl. Some things, it seemed, were universal constants.
She did not enjoy strong-arming people into compliance. Contrary to popular belief, it was not something she took pleasure in. But when time was of the essence, when lives and entire worlds were at stake, she was often left with little choice. She had executed nobles on the spot for far less than this level of obstruction, and at least they had understood the stakes.
No one wanted to move openly against the most powerful hero in recorded history—not directly, at least—but even indirect resistance had consequences. Umbra was many things, but a skilled politician she was not. She had always left that particular battlefield to her wife, who could bend courts and councils with nothing but words and a well-timed smile.
What she wouldn’t give to have her at her side now.
If her wife were here, the god’s corpse would already have been found. The problem would already be dealt with. There would be no arguing, no paperwork, no tedious negotiations dragging on while disaster crept closer.
Still, it wasn’t all bad.
After her outburst, the humans had clearly decided that arguing further was unwise. They contacted someone higher up the hierarchy and what followed was a tense stretch of negotiation and reluctant compromise. In the end, they agreed to assist her in her hunt. Not out of trust, but fear and pragmatism, which suited Umbra just fine.
There were, of course, conditions.
First, she needed to retrieve her birth certificate. That alone was irritating enough, but it also meant producing documentation of her name change. Apparently, becoming an eldritch war hero in another world did not excuse missing paperwork.
Umbra had little faith in this world’s military when it came to facing the Witch of the Void or anything even remotely related to her kind. Still, if allowing them to feel useful made things move faster, then so be it. She would endure the inconvenience.
Second, she would need to explain all over her moves to the government, which was fine. She would rather work with than against them to make things easier.
In exchange, they would source the materials she required, expensive and obscure as they were: crushed sapphires, small quantities of platinum, the bones of a recently killed buck as well as a fountain pen with high quality ink. They would not obstruct her either.
Fully armoured, she now sat in the back of a van as it carried her toward a place she had once called home. Daniel was the one who had filed the missing persons report. A decent thing to do, she supposed. Almost sweet, considering how little they had actually spoken back then. Umbra had always been reclusive, even before everything.
The van eventually slowed, then stopped.
They had parked along the street, just down from the house.
“We’ve arrived,” said the female officer driving. Umbra had learned her name was Sally.
“I see,” Umbra replied simply.
The officers stepped out, and a moment later the back of the van was opened. Umbra took up most of the space inside, her spindly limbs folded awkwardly, and she had to shuffle out sideways. Metal scraped against metal as her armour caught on the frame, sending an unpleasant shiver through her. It would need maintenance soon.
Once upright, she towered over the humans. They tried, and failed, to hide the apprehension on their faces. She was used to it by now.
Umbra turned her gaze to the house and let out another sigh. Against her will, a faint sense of nostalgia stirred.
This was only meant to be a short visit. She needed her phone so she could be contacted, should the situation worsen. A fair arrangement, all things considered.
“Then let us collect what is needed,” Umbra said. She paused, then added, almost as an afterthought, “Perhaps it would be best to inform Daniel that I am no longer missing. Assuming he is home.”
“You’ll probably terrify him,” Sally said.
“I am used to it. Come.”
The other two officers stayed behind while Sally accompanied Umbra. They crossed the road and climbed the wooden steps. Each one creaked loudly beneath Umbra’s weight, the sound echoing in the quiet street.
“It feels strange to be here after so long,” Umbra said quietly. “Especially when barely any time has passed on this end.”
“Uh… yeah. I’d imagine so,” Sally replied.
Umbra rolled her eyes. Wonderful conversationalist, she thought. She almost missed the carefully veiled insults and exhausting politeness of nobles from her other home.
She was still irritated at having to work alongside the police at all. It was an institution she had never held much respect for, regardless of the world. Needs must, she reminded herself.
They reached the door. Umbra lifted her hand toward the handle, then hesitated. After a moment’s consideration, she withdrew it and pressed the doorbell instead.
Nothing happened.
She rang it again, and this time, she heard movement inside, footsteps on stairs.
The door opened, revealing an average-looking man in his late twenties. He wore an oversized t-shirt and shorts. As far as Umbra could recall, that had been his outfit year-round.
“What—” His breath caught as he looked up at her.
“Hello, Daniel,” Umbra said.
“What the fuck? It’s not Halloween, is it? Who are you? Sick costume, by the way.”
“This is not a costume,” she replied calmly. “I am Genevieve. Your former roommate.”
He frowned. “That’s not funny.”
“You sleep with your stuffed elephant. You have since you were twelve. And you have a birthmark on your back that vaguely resembles Italy.”
He froze.
“Holy shit,” he whispered. “Genie?”
“Indeed.”
“What do you mean that isn’t a costume?”
“I was isekai’d,” Umbra said flatly. “Have you not noticed that my face moves in ways costumes generally do not?”
“Holy fuck. I thought you were dead or something!”
“Indeed,” Umbra said, giving a small nod. “Unfortunately, I am only stopping here to pick up a few things. After that, I will be leaving again.”
Daniel blinked at her, clearly struggling to process what was happening. He rubbed his face with both hands, then looked back up at her as if hoping she might have changed into something more reasonable while he wasn’t looking.
“Wait, wait, wait,” he said, his voice rising slightly. “This is too much. Why do you look like a scary murder monster? Are you actually serious right now, Genevieve?”
Umbra sighed. It was becoming a habit, one she did not particularly enjoy noticing. “I was cursed,” she said flatly. “By a goddess of evil. The curse gave me an eternal monstrous form. That is all I can say for now.”
There is no need to involve civilians in matters beyond their comprehension.
“Uhh,” Daniel eloquently replied.
“Mrs. Steelblight?” Sally’s voice came from behind Umbra.
“Yes, yes,” Umbra answered without turning. “This is Officer Sally. We are on a schedule. Is my former room untouched?”
Daniel flinched slightly, finally noticing the officer standing behind Umbra. His eyes flicked between the two of them. “Uh… mostly. I mean, when I filed the report, the police did rummage around a bit, but I told them you don’t like people going through your room, so…”
“Indeed,” Umbra said. “Then please move aside. I need to retrieve some belongings.”
“Okay,” Daniel said quietly, stepping back and out of the way.
Umbra let out another slow breath and ducked through the doorframe, Sally following close behind. The house felt smaller than she remembered. Or perhaps she had simply grown too large for it.
As she climbed the stairs, one of them gave way beneath her weight. Her foot plunged straight through the step, wood splintering loudly. She barely managed to catch herself on the railing before her entire leg went through.
“Tch. Temen,” she muttered under her breath.
“Oh shit—are you okay?” Daniel called up from below.
“Yes, Daniel,” Umbra replied shortly.
She braced herself with two claws and carefully pulled her leg free. Then, with visible reluctance, she lowered herself onto all fours and continued climbing that way, distributing her weight more evenly. The indignity of it burned far worse than the scraped armour.
When she reached the top and stood up again, her head punched straight through the ceiling with a dull crack. Dust drifted down.
“The landlord isn’t gonna be happy,” Daniel muttered.
Honestly, Umbra was surprised by how well he was taking all of this. Daniel had always been more of a jock, more into gym sessions, loud parties, and getting spectacularly drunk every weekend. She would have expected screaming, panic, or denial.
Then again, when one didn’t believe monsters were real, it was hard to immediately comprehend one standing in your house. Perhaps it simply hadn’t sunk in yet.
She ducked low, her claws lightly scraping the floor as she moved. Her old room was right beside the stairs. She opened the door and was met with a strangely nostalgic sight.
Everything was exactly as she’d left it. The bed was unmade. Her belongings were scattered in their usual disorganized manner. Sunlight streamed in through the window, illuminating dust motes in the air. It had been so long since she’d stood in this room.
Officer Sally stepped in behind her.
Umbra searched briefly and located her phone. As expected, it was dead. She plugged it in to charge, an action made far more difficult by the fact that she now had claws instead of fingers. Still, if she could defeat the Witch of the Void, she could defeat modern electronics.
“So,” Sally said, “where are your documents?”
“Give me a moment,” Umbra replied dismissively.
She moved to a stack of storage containers and opened them carefully, one by one, until she found what she was looking for. A pink Disney Princess folder.
“This should contain all of my legal documentation,” Umbra said, handing it over.
Sally opened it and quickly flipped through the contents.
“Yeah, it’s all here,” Sally said after a moment, flipping the folder closed. She sounded satisfied, or at least relieved.
“Very good, then,” Umbra replied. Her gaze drifted around the room as the tension eased slightly from her shoulders.
She tried to think if there was anything else she might need immediately, anything important she had forgotten. The room held pieces of her old life, mundane and small, yet strangely weighty with memory. Clothes, books, old trinkets she had once thought important. None of it seemed necessary now.
Perhaps she could take a few more things later. If there was a later.
If she could get back home.
Umbra hissed quietly under her breath. No, she would not allow that thought to linger. Doubt was a luxury she could not afford. She would get back home. She had crossed realms before and she would do so again.
After a few more minutes of half-hearted browsing, she retrieved her phone and its charger from where she had left them. Then, after a moment’s consideration, she picked up her handbag as well. It would be inconvenient to carry loose items, and old habits died hard.
“I am ready to depart,” Umbra said, turning back toward the officer.
Sally nodded, tucking the folder securely under her arm.
They made their way back out of the room and down the stairs, Daniel still standing there, staring as if he had yet to fully reconnect with reality. His expression remained one of complete and utter disbelief as they left, the door closing softly behind them.