Neve should have said no.
He knew it the moment his manager opened his mouth. He felt it in his bones, in his soul, in every tired cell of his body that had already worked a six-hour shift and wanted nothing more than to go home, eat and maybe stare at the ceiling.
But he didn't say no.
Because his manager said the word "extra pay" Neve's brain shut down completely.
.
.
The manager's office smelled like old coffee and bad decisions.
Neve stood in front of the desk with his hands in his pockets, staring at his manager with the expression of someone being told something they already didn't like. Beside him stood Rena, another student, another part-time worker, another person who also clearly did not wake up this morning expecting this conversation.
"Both of you will give the tour," the manager said, leaning back in his chair as he had just said something completely reasonable. "A school group is coming in. Kids. Primary school age. You're both students so you'll know how to handle them."
Neve stared at him. "I work with animals, not children."
"You'll be fine."
"I clean enclosures."
"You'll be fine."
"I once got bitten by a—"
"Extra pay," the manager said.
Neve closed his mouth.
Rena glanced at him from the side. He didn't look back. He was busy having a silent internal argument with himself that he was already losing.
'Don't do it,' one part of him said.
'Extra pay,' said the other part.
He sighed so hard his shoulders dropped.
"Fine."
.
.
The kids arrived like a natural disaster.
Thirty two of them. All under the age of ten. All loud. All running in different directions the moment they stepped through the gate despite their teacher yelling at them to stay in a line.
Neve looked at them.
He looked at Rena.
She smiled weakly.
"Welcome," Neve said flatly, "to the zoo."
It went downhill from there.
The kids had questions. Not normal questions. Not "what does that animal eat?" or "how big does it get?" questions.
Questions like "if the zebra and the giraffe had a baby what would it look like?" and "do lions dream?" and "have you ever been inside the cage?" and "what happens if you fall in?"
Neve answered all of them with the patience of a man thinking about his extra pay.
The worst part was that the kids loved him.
Not Rena, who was actually smiling and trying. Him. Neve, who was standing there with a face that said he would rather be cleaning the hippo enclosure. They gathered around his legs like magnets. Grabbed his uniform. Pulled his sleeve every thirty seconds to ask another question. One child, a tiny boy with enormous eyes, grabbed Neve's hand and simply refused to let go for the entire first half of the tour.
"You're my favourite," the boy announced.
"What? You just met me," Neve said.
"Still my favourite."
Neve looked at the sky.
This had always happened. Ever since he was young, children attached to him the same way. He had never understood it. He was not particularly warm. He was not particularly patient. He was not doing anything special. They just — decided on him. Every time.
Rena watched a child climb onto Neve's back without being invited and laughed quietly. "They really like you."
"I noticed," Neve said, standing completely still as the child made herself comfortable on his shoulders like he was a piece of furniture.
.
.
They moved through the zoo in something that loosely resembled a group.
The reptile house. The bird sanctuary. The African savanna exhibit. At every stop, the kids scattered, pressed their faces against the glass, asked seventeen questions simultaneously and eventually migrated back to Neve's general area to report their findings to him specifically.
Then they reached the lion enclosure.
It was more of a pit than a cage. A wide, deep open space with a viewing barrier along the top. The drop was significant. The lions moved far below in the afternoon sun.
The kids surged forward immediately.
"Stop." Neve put both arms out. "Don't lean over. You'll fall."
"I can't seeeeee," a girl whined, stretching on her toes.
"Me neither!" Several others joined in immediately.
"I want to see the lion!"
"Lift me!"
"Me first, me first!"
Rena looked at the barrier, looked at the kids, looked at Neve. "Maybe we could lift them one at a time? Just to see over the edge?"
Neve looked at the drop.
Looked at the kids.
Looked at the drop again.
"That's not a good idea," he said.
"They can't see from here," Rena said reasonably.
"The barrier exists for a reason."
"It'll be quick. Just one at a time."
The tiny boy who had decided Neve was his favourite tugged his sleeve and looked up at him with enormous eyes. "Please? I really want to see the lion."
Neve looked at that face.
He looked at the drop.
He looked at the extra pay waiting for him at the end of the week.
"Fine," he said, against every instinct he had. "One at a time. Be careful."
Rena moved to the barrier first, reaching down to lift the nearest child to see over the edge. The child grabbed the top and peered over excitedly. The others lined up, pushing slightly, all talking at once.
'Me first, me first, me FIRST—'
It happened fast.
A child's elbow caught Rena at the wrong angle. Her foot slipped on the edge. She grabbed for the barrier and missed and for one horrible second she was going over and there was nothing between her and the drop below.
Neve moved without thinking.
He caught her arm. Pulled hard. She stumbled back into him and he shoved her away from the edge and that was the moment his own foot found the same slippery patch she had and the world tilted and he had absolutely nothing to grab.
'Oh,' his brain said.
He went over.
The fall was fast. The landing was faster.
He heard something crack that he was fairly sure was his own skull.
The lions lifted their heads and looked at him. The big male stood, walked over, and sniffed him once.
Walked away.
Neve lay completely still at the bottom of the lion enclosure and stared up at the sky and thought, distantly, that this was a very bad situation.
His head was screaming. Not metaphorically. Actual screaming pain, that was radiating from the back of his skull down his entire spine.
Then a voice appeared inside that same skull.
{System Initialising...}
Neve blinked.
"...What?"
{Detecting Host Soul: Confirmed}
"Shut up," Neve whispered. His voice came out strange. It was coming from very far away.
{Forcibly Uploading Consciousness... 5%...}
"I said shut up."
{...23%...}
"I have a migraine," Neve said. "I have a damn migraine and there is a voice in my head and I am asking it very nicely to SHUT UP—"
{...47%...}
"I HAVE A MIGRAINE YOU ABSOLUTE BASTARD—"
{...81%...}
His eyes were getting heavy. He didn't want them to get heavy. He had things to do. He had an assignment due Friday. He had not told his mom he loved her after their argument last week.
His eyes closed.
{...99%...}
He couldn't open them again.
{Upload Complete.}
{Welcome, Host.}
{…You're going to love it here.}
'I really should have said no.'
That was the last thing Neve thought, from the bottom of what remained of his consciousness.