The basement still smelled like the thing nobody wanted to name.
Lucas stood at the top of the stairs with one hand on the railing, looking down into the dim, cramped space where everything had finally gone quiet. Not peaceful quiet. Not normal quiet. The kind of silence that arrived after someone had made a choice they could not take back.
Walter was already moving.
He had Krazy-8's body wrapped and half-covered, working with a grim efficiency that made the whole thing feel less like a murder scene and more like a job no one wanted but someone had to finish.
Jesse stared at the floor like it might explain something if he looked hard enough.
"This is insane," Jesse muttered.
Lucas didn't answer right away.
He didn't need to.
Everything about the last twelve hours had already said it for him.
Walter straightened, wiped his hands on a towel he would probably never want to see again, and looked at the body one last time before speaking.
"We need to get him out of here."
Jesse blinked. "That is your big insight?"
Walter looked at him. "Yes."
Jesse threw both hands up. "No, man, I mean—how? You just say it like we have a plan."
Walter's jaw tightened. "We do not have time for panic."
"Panic is kind of the only thing I got right now!"
Lucas stepped down one stair. "He's not wrong."
Jesse shot him a look. "Thanks for the support."
"I'm not supporting the panic," Lucas said. "I'm supporting the fact that we need a real answer."
Walter looked between them, then back down at Krazy-8.
"We transport him."
Jesse stared. "Transport him where?"
Walter said nothing for a second.
That was worse than if he had answered fast.
Lucas frowned slightly. "You already thought about this."
Walter's face did not change. "Yes."
"Of course you did," Jesse muttered. "Because apparently you keep a murder contingency plan in your pocket now."
Walter ignored him. "We cannot leave him here."
Jesse pointed toward the basement floor. "I know that. I'm just saying maybe 'we' could mean a lot of things besides 'drag him around like a broken mannequin.'"
Lucas rubbed a hand down his face. "Okay. New question. What do we do with the body after we move it?"
Walter answered immediately this time.
"Dissolve it."
Jesse blinked. "You say that like it's normal."
Walter looked at him. "At this point, it is."
Lucas stared at him for a beat, then said, "That's probably the most disturbing thing you've said all day."
Walter didn't react.
Jesse looked between them. "Dissolve? With what?"
Walter met his eyes.
"Acid."
Jesse went still.
"…You're kidding."
Walter's voice was flat. "I am not."
Lucas let out a breath through his nose.
That part made sense, unfortunately.
Not the morality of it. Not the consequences. Just the chemistry.
Jesse looked like he might object again, then seemed to realize that objecting at this point was the emotional equivalent of trying to stop a train with a spoon.
"…You already know where to get it?" Jesse asked.
Walter's answer was immediate.
"Yes."
Jesse stared at him. "Man, that was way too fast."
Walter looked at Lucas instead. "We need a vehicle."
Lucas tilted his head. "You're asking me?"
Walter's gaze held. "You are the one who usually notices what everyone else misses."
Lucas almost laughed. "That is not the compliment you think it is."
"It was not meant to be one."
Jesse groaned. "Can both of you stop being smart for like five seconds?"
Lucas glanced at him. "You first."
Jesse pointed at the body. "I hate this."
"Noted," Lucas said.
Walter was already moving again. "We need supplies."
Jesse looked up sharply. "What supplies?"
"Plastic," Walter said.
Jesse frowned. "Plastic what?"
Walter looked at him like the answer should have been obvious. "Container. Sheeting. Anything durable enough to contain the reaction."
Lucas's eyes narrowed slightly.
That made sense too.
Too much sense.
Walter was not improvising with the body. He was engineering the disposal. There was something deeply unsettling about how quickly his brain had moved from murder to material science.
Jesse looked physically ill. "You're really doing this."
Walter's tone remained precise. "We have already done the other part."
That shut Jesse up.
Lucas climbed the last step and looked around the basement one more time, then back at Walter.
"How long until the body starts becoming a problem?"
Walter answered after a second. "Less time than I would prefer."
Jesse muttered, "That is not comforting."
"It was not intended to be."
Lucas looked at Jesse. "You got a place that won't draw attention?"
Jesse stared. "You mean for a dead guy?"
Lucas nodded. "Yes."
Jesse looked like he wanted to object to the phrasing and failed. "I mean… yeah. My place is kind of the obvious answer."
Walter immediately shook his head. "No."
Jesse frowned. "Why not?"
Walter looked at him. "Because it is yours."
"That's not an answer."
"It is the answer."
Lucas crossed his arms. "He means your place is where we'd expect a bad decision to live."
Jesse looked offended. "Man, that's rude."
"It's also true," Lucas said.
Walter had already started gathering the things he wanted. "We will need to be efficient."
Jesse paced two steps and then stopped. "I can't believe this is happening."
Lucas muttered, "You and me both."
---
The drive to Jesse's place felt longer than it should have.
Not because of distance.
Because no one wanted to talk.
The body sat in the back of the RV wrapped tight and hidden as best it could be hidden, and every bump in the road made Jesse flinch like the whole thing might somehow wake up and complain.
Walter sat rigid in the passenger seat, eyes fixed forward, hands still, expression locked into that same controlled mask he used whenever the world threatened to force too much feeling out of him.
Lucas stayed in the back again, watching both of them, listening to the engine and the silence and the ugly little spaces between words.
After a while, Jesse couldn't take it.
"So," he said, voice too loud for how small the RV felt, "just to be clear, this is not normal."
Walter did not turn. "Correct."
Jesse stared. "You said that way too easily."
Lucas leaned back against the wall. "At least someone's being honest."
Walter replied, "There is nothing normal about this."
Jesse laughed once. It was short and cracked at the edges.
"Yeah," he said. "No kidding."
A pause.
Then he asked, quieter, "You ever think about where this ends?"
Walter finally looked at him.
"It ends when it must."
Jesse frowned. "That is not an answer."
Walter's voice stayed calm. "It is the only one I have."
Lucas looked out the window at the open desert.
That answer was worse than no answer.
---
Jesse's place was a mess, which somehow made it feel more like a suitable crime scene than a home.
Walter took one look around and visibly disapproved of everything from the furniture to the air quality.
Jesse, as usual, noticed.
"What?" he said. "This is fine."
Walter stared at him. "No, it is not."
Jesse spread his hands. "It's a place."
Lucas muttered, "That's another word for it."
Jesse shot him a look and then immediately lost the argument when Walter began laying out what they needed.
Plastic.
Tools.
Container.
Acid.
Jesse blinked. "You say acid like you're ordering groceries."
Walter looked at him. "Because this is a procurement issue."
Jesse pointed at him. "No, it is not a procurement issue. It is a dead body issue."
Walter held his gaze. "Then procure the correct materials."
Jesse stared.
Lucas stepped in before Jesse could explode. "He means: we need to get this done before it becomes everybody's problem."
Jesse looked at him. "You really are way too good at translating him."
"I don't like it either."
Walter ignored both of them and started checking the basement area beneath Jesse's place.
Lucas followed, looking around the small, cluttered space with a different sort of attention now. It was cramped enough to feel temporary, private enough to do something terrible in. That made it a perfect place for what they were about to attempt, which was another problem entirely.
Walter looked back up. "This will work."
Jesse stared at the ceiling. "That's the first thing you've said all day that made me more nervous."
Walter didn't argue.
---
The acid took longer than it should have to acquire, because of course it did.
Jesse hated every second of it.
Walter hated waiting.
Lucas hated the fact that all of it felt strangely organized for something so ugly.
When they finally returned with what they needed, Jesse held the bag like it might bite him.
"So this is the stuff," he said.
Walter nodded. "Yes."
Jesse looked at it. "And this definitely works?"
Walter's answer was immediate. "Yes."
Jesse's face tightened. "You keep saying that."
Lucas looked at the bag, then at Walter. "You got a backup plan if it doesn't?"
Walter paused.
That pause told Lucas enough.
Jesse saw it too.
"Wait," Jesse said. "You do have a backup plan, right?"
Walter's eyes moved to him.
"No."
Jesse stared.
Lucas closed his eyes briefly and muttered, "Of course not."
Jesse threw a hand toward the ceiling. "Unbelievable."
Walter looked almost offended by the accusation. "It will work."
Jesse pointed at him. "That's not a backup plan. That's a hope."
Walter's voice went colder. "It is chemistry."
Jesse stared.
Then looked at Lucas. "Are you hearing this?"
Lucas gave a slow nod. "Unfortunately."
Walter cut in, "Enough. We need to proceed."
---
The first part of the process was the worst part.
Not because the actual work was harder than the rest, but because it made the whole thing real in a way none of them could talk around anymore.
The basement was quieter than the rest of the house, which made every movement feel louder. Jesse's breathing was too fast. Walter's was too controlled. Lucas's own voice sounded strange to him when he spoke, like he was hearing himself from a room away.
"Where do you want it?" Lucas asked.
Walter pointed. "There."
Jesse looked at the container. "You're both insane."
"Move," Walter said.
Jesse muttered something and obeyed.
Lucas helped steady the body while they got it positioned. It was one thing to talk around a dead man. It was another thing entirely to lift the weight of one and not think too hard about what had brought it here.
Jesse refused to look at the face.
Lucas did look once.
Only once.
Krazy-8 did not look dangerous anymore.
That made it worse.
Walter began the process with the same careful precision he used for everything else. Lucas watched him from the side, not because he wanted to, but because Walter's movements had that same terrible efficiency they always did now. He did not look like a man losing control. He looked like a man building a method to survive what control could no longer prevent.
Jesse paced at the edge of the room.
"This is disgusting," he said.
Lucas didn't look over. "That's one word for it."
Jesse shook his head. "No, man, I mean really disgusting."
Walter said, "Then don't stand so close."
Jesse pointed at him. "You're the one doing chemistry with a corpse."
Walter didn't even glance up. "And yet I am the only one here with a solution."
Lucas muttered, "That line does not help your case."
Walter's response was immediate. "I am not trying to help my case."
That was, somehow, worse.
---
The reaction began quietly.
Then it started to change.
Walter checked the container, then checked it again. Lucas watched the surface. The smell sharpened. Jesse backed up a little, eyes wide.
"Yo," he said. "Yo, that's—"
Walter looked up. "Do not move."
Jesse froze.
Lucas's eyes stayed on the container.
For one long moment, nothing happened.
Then the body began to collapse into itself.
Jesse made a noise halfway between a gasp and a curse.
"Holy—"
Walter continued the process.
Calm.
Focused.
Lucas could not stop watching.
It was horrible.
It was also, in a completely different way, impressive.
Jesse covered his mouth with one hand, staring like he might never be able to look at a chemistry set the same way again.
Lucas said quietly, "That's one way to make a point."
Walter didn't look at him.
"That is not the point."
Jesse snapped, "Then what is?"
Walter finally turned.
To both of them.
And said, flatly, "That this is manageable."
Silence.
Jesse stared at him like he had lost his mind.
Lucas understood the shape of the sentence even if he hated it.
Manageable.
That was Walter's version of comfort.
That was what he did when the world became unbearable: he found a process and made it sound like control.
Jesse looked sick.
Lucas, for a second, didn't feel much of anything.
Then he did.
Not relief.
Not guilt.
Something in between.
The kind of feeling that settles in after a line is crossed and realizes the line had been there all along.
---
By the time they were done, the basement looked like the aftermath of a science experiment nobody should have been allowed to attempt.
Jesse stood in the kitchen afterward, breathing hard, eyes still too wide.
"I hate this," he said.
Lucas leaned against the counter. "Yeah."
Jesse looked at him. "How are you not more freaked out?"
Lucas glanced at him. "I am."
Jesse frowned. "You don't look it."
"That's because looking it doesn't help."
Jesse rubbed both hands over his face. "Man…"
Walter entered the kitchen a moment later, still holding the last remnants of calm like it was something he had personally earned through force of will.
"It is done," he said.
Jesse laughed once, bitter and breathless. "You sound proud."
Walter looked at him. "I am relieved."
"That is not what it sounded like."
Walter did not correct him.
Lucas looked at Walter for a long second.
Then said, "So now what?"
Walter met his gaze.
And for a moment, the answer felt heavier than the question.
"We continue," Walter said.
Jesse let out a long, miserable breath. "There it is."
Lucas nodded slowly.
"Yeah," he said.
"There it is."
---
That night, Lucas went back to the duplex later than usual.
The street was quiet. The porch light was on. Jane was already outside, sitting on the steps with her knees pulled up and a paper bag of takeout beside her.
She looked up when he approached.
"You look terrible," she said.
Lucas stopped on the bottom step. "Nice to see you too."
Jane held the bag out. "I brought food."
Lucas took it. "Bribe accepted."
"That wasn't a bribe."
"It was definitely a bribe."
She smiled.
And that was the difference.
Not a first meeting. Not a stranger trying to size him up.
Someone who already knew what he looked like when he was lying, and was choosing not to make a bigger deal out of it.
"You been avoiding me?" she asked.
Lucas leaned against the porch rail. "No."
Jane raised an eyebrow.
He sighed. "Maybe a little."
"Why?"
Lucas looked down at the food, then out at the street.
Because the day had been too heavy.
Because a man had died.
Because the world had shifted.
Because the version of himself that wanted to keep things simple was getting buried under the one who kept ending up in rooms where terrible things became practical.
Instead he said, "Busy."
Jane took that answer in silence.
Then nodded. "Fair."
Lucas looked at her.
She was already less interested in his excuses than in whether he meant them. That was something he appreciated more than he wanted to admit.
She nudged the food toward him. "Eat."
He opened the bag, found the container inside, and glanced at her. "You really do this a lot."
"Do what?"
"Show up."
Jane shrugged. "You looked like you needed it."
Lucas let out a quiet breath.
"That obvious?"
"Yeah."
He smiled despite himself. "Great."
Jane tilted her head. "What?"
Lucas looked at her.
Then away.
"…Nothing."
She was quiet for a second.
Then said, "You don't have to tell me."
Lucas nodded.
"That seems to be your favorite sentence."
"It's useful."
He glanced at her. "That's your thing."
Jane smiled faintly. "You're catching on."
They sat there for a while on the porch, eating in silence between occasional comments about nothing important. It felt normal in a way Lucas wasn't ready to trust yet. But it was real enough to hold.
Inside the house, the city outside, the dead man in the basement of Jesse's life, Walter's relentless calm, Jesse's unraveling—
All of it was still there.
But for the moment, on a quiet porch in a quiet part of Albuquerque, Jane was talking to him like she expected him to come back tomorrow.
And Lucas found that he wanted to.
---
Back in his own room later, he sat on the edge of the bed and waited.
2:00 AM.
The screen appeared.
[Daily Pull Available]
Lucas looked at it for a second.
Then pressed yes.
The spin turned.
Slowed.
Stopped.
[Reward Acquired]
Disposable Face Mask
Lucas stared at it.
Then laughed quietly under his breath.
"Yeah," he said.
"That's about right."
He set it on the nightstand.
Useless on its own. Useful only if the world got uglier, which it usually did.
Lucas leaned back against the wall and looked at the ceiling.
The worst part wasn't the chemistry.
It wasn't the body.
It wasn't even Walter.
It was the fact that everything now felt permanent.
And the city, as always, kept moving anyway.