Script Initiated:
Chapter Two

Rex glanced between the two people sitting at the table with him, back and forth. He could not stop smiling, even to chew his food. This was the most exciting thing he could remember happening since getting to New York. It was the first time – the first time ever – that he had eaten dinner with two people.

Should he be talking? They weren't talking. But he felt like he should say something.

"Taco Tuesday is my favorite," he announced. "Six didn't believe in it, but I made him add it to the menu. Now every Tuesday is Taco Tuesday."

"I'm glad you did," said Dr. Holiday. "These are very good." She smiled, and Rex felt his heart flutter.

He rarely thought about whether or not things were beautiful, but he knew one hundred percent for sure that this woman was a 'beautiful thing'. Nor had he ever thought green could be beautiful. When he thought about the color green, he imagined Six and his infinite green combat outfits. But Rex had never seen green like the doctor's eyes. They reminded him of the Chinese jade dragons he saw in martial arts movies.

Rex was glad she liked the tacos.

"So, how long are you going to stay here, Doc?"

Her jade dragon eyes flicked to Six and back to Rex. "Well, Six and I were talking, and we decided it would be good for you, and him, to have a permanent physician on the premises. Therefore," she said, winking, "I'll be staying here for a long time."

Rex's head spun. This was probably the best day of his whole life. Not only had he gotten to meet another person and eat dinner with her, she was going to be staying there! They could eat dinner again tomorrow, and the next day, and the next!

The doctor continued, "I'll run the blood work first, but then I need to go back to Colorado for a few days to take care of business there."

Six nodded. "Of course. Do what you need to."

"Also, Rex," said Dr. Holiday, "I want to talk to you about something."

"You do?" said Rex. He tried to guess what she wanted to say to him. Was it good news? Bad news? Was she going to be rooming with him? Had she forgotten to tell him about some horrible, disfiguring disease she had discovered during the exam that afternoon? His blood rushed, and he was eager to know what Dr. Holiday would say, no matter what it was.

"Yes. Rex, how would you feel about going to school?"

This woman was an angel. She was an angel from Heaven. Eyes watering, Rex turned his face to the ceiling, clasped his hands, and said, "Gracias, Dios mio. Muchas gracias!"

"Is that a 'yes'?" said Dr. Holiday, smiling wryly.

He dropped his supplication and slammed a fist on the table, rattling their plates. "It is most definitely a 'yes'. When can I start? More importantly, what did you tell Six to get him to agree to this?" Rex had been plying his guardian on this topic ever since they got to New York, and not once had Six budged.

The beautiful, angelic doctor chuckled, then explained. "I told him, for your health, you should be around kids your own age. Now, there is still the matter of your safety, so we're devising some methods of…" Her explanation faded into the background, her words no longer the most interesting thing in the world. For he, Rex of No Last Name, would be going to school. Images of hallways, lockers, desks, sneakers stepping in chewing gum, bullies hanging students from flagpoles with atomic wedgies, dreaded tests, study parties, dances, cute girls, football games, cheerleaders, graduating and throwing a cap into the air… He'd dreamed about these things, but he never thought he might someday be a part of them.

"… out, the new school year at Benjamin Franklin High School begins in three weeks, so we can enroll you there as a sophomore."

"Huh?" said Rex. "Three weeks? I'll be a sophomore? High school?"

"You weren't listening to any of the important details, were you?" said Six, and he bit into a taco with a loud crackling of corn chip.

"Yeah, yeah, you'll keep me safe, won't let me out of your sight, same old, same old, got it. I'm going to high school! Do I need new clothes? What do high school students wear? I need a backpack, too. Ay caramba, I'm not ready!"

"I'll buy you whatever you need," said Six. "But I have one condition. You follow my rules, or I will pull you out of this school. There will be no appeals."

"Technically that means you have more than one condition. That gives you the right to, like, infinite conditions."

The 'serious' brow rose up over Six's sunglasses. "Rex."

"Okay, dropping it! So, uh… what were the rules again?"

Rex lay in his bed that night, staring at the Gundam poster on his ceiling. His face was stretched by the same grin he had worn since dinner. He felt like he was floating. Maybe three years was not much to draw from, but he literally could not remember ever feeling so happy.

Today had been nothing but good news. Their tiny underground family had just gotten fifty percent bigger. He was going to be a high school student. He was going up there! And now he had definite proof that he was not an EVO.

The fluorescent lights buzzed in response to his feelings, but for once he didn't hold it against them.

Rex rolled onto his stomach, grabbed the TV remote, and punched the 'ON' button. The small box television at the end of his bed whined and then fizzled to life. Rex clicked his way to channel 8, hoping a rerun of "El Amor De La Pasión El Amor" might be playing – he could think of no better characters to share his feelings with than Carmen, Isabella, and Reynaldo. Unfortunately, the channel was showing infomercials just then, advertising a brand of cat litter that would protect against even EVO-sized odors. Rex made a face and moved on.

On Channel 10, Ultimate Exposure was just starting, spinning onto the screen with action-packed colors and graphics. The pretty British lady, Diane Farrah, appeared standing at the edge of Central Park. Behind her, white Providence aircraft hovered in the sky, shining spotlights at the ground and illuminating the bulky armored trucks and the Providence grunts rushing between them with their guns. Trees were down, and the lawn was torn up, turned into a mess of dirt piles. Rather than a park, it was more like a construction zone. Rex thought that was too bad; he'd always liked it when movie characters visited Central Park. It looked like a great place to walk, take a person on a date, or stop a mugging.

The wind from the aircraft whipped the reporter's hair into her face, and she had to shout to be heard: "Yet again, disaster has struck the island of Manhattan, and it comes in the form of – you guessed it – an EVO. My sources tell me it was once canine, a long-haired Dachshund named Lily to be precise. Now, man's best friend has turned on its masters, biting the hands that once fed it. It has been rampaging through Central Park since about six o'clock this evening, digging massive holes in the previously beautiful lawn. It is not the first time this landmark, this symbol of America, has been targeted by the creatures. Our viewers are sure to remember the mushroom event of last April – and now I must ask, will the beauty of this place ever be restored or shall it, too, fall in the ongoing battle against these monsters?

"Providence has established their perimeter, but unfortunately they were too late to save the lives of seven innocent park-goers unable to escape the chaos. A dozen more have been rushed to the hospital with injuries ranging from minor to life-threatening. Out of respect for the victims' families, I'm afraid we cannot release any names at this time. But let's try to get a glimpse of this EVO, shall we?"

Rex leaned forward, squinting at the poor-quality image. The camera-man turned the screen from Diane Farrah and zoomed in past the Providence forces to a dark, blurry figure in the background. At first, the EVO only looked like writhing shadow. But then, a spotlight hit the shadows and illuminated them.

"That was a dog?" said Rex. It looked more like a dragon, or a centipede, or really almost anything but a dog. On screen, it seemed to be as tall as the Providence trucks and twice as long. Most of its body was hairless, covered in smooth, black skin, and black hair sprouted from its spine like some kind of mane. It was using its ten or so legs to scratch away at the dirt, and when the lights hit it, it snarled up at the aircraft responsible, crinkling its long snout and exposing sharp canine teeth. Its growl rumbled through the park like thunder.

A truck rolled in front of the camera, then, and the image switched back to Diane Farrah. Her mouth was hanging open, and it took a second to recover her composure.

"As you can see," she said, finding her voice, "this EVO is not one to be taken lightly. All we can do now is hope that the Providence forces are enough to end this pointless violence.

"We have with us here the dog's owner, Mike Pemberton, who emerged from the incident remarkably unscathed. Let's see if Mike can answer a few questions for us." The camera-man backed up, allowing the reporter to pull another person onto the screen while keeping the battle visible in the background.

Mike Pemberton was a middle-aged man with receding blonde hair and a face turned pale by trauma. He stared into the camera with round, teary eyes. Diane held the microphone out to him.

"Mr. Pemberton, when did you first realize that your dog was turning into an EVO?"

"Lily's never hurt anyone," he said, voice small under the noises behind him. "I swear, Lily's always been a good girl. She never liked EVOs; always growled at them on the TV. She wouldn'ta hurt a fly – she was scared of flies!"

"Today must have been shocking for you," the reporter pressed.

"We were just walking. We always walk this time of day, and we always take the same route, so as she won't feel stressed. But she started sniffing at this patch of grass, and she started digging at it. I thought that was strange, because she's not a digger, you know, like most Dachshunds. I trained her good when she was a puppy, you see, and she was a real good girl, never dug any holes."

"But today was different."

"It was! So, I scolded her, I tried to pull her away, but she wouldn't listen to me. Then… then… she started to…" Tears spilled over his cheeks, and he pressed a fist into his mouth to stifle the sobs.

"Thank you, Mr. Pemberton. Let's stop there." The frame shifted, cutting Mike Pemberton from view. "While we are waiting for this crisis to be resolved, I'd like to ask our viewers to check out our Ultimate poll of the day."

A purple banner rose on the bottom half of the screen, and as Diane Farrah narrated, the following words appeared: "'Despite knowing it could turn into a rampaging monster at any time, would you still want to own a pet?' Send us your answers on your smartphone or tablet, and we'll share your feedback in about ten minutes."

The live feed shrank to a small box in the corner of the screen and was replaced by a bar-and-line graph. "Data collected since the Nanite Event show the negative impact the EVOs have had on pet store sales-"

Rex slammed his finger on the power button, and the image winked into blackness, the television powering off with an exhausted sizzle. His previous exuberance, like the image on the screen, had fizzled away, leaving instead a deep, black worry he had harbored, and that had festered, since the first day.

Besides school and people and all that came with them, there were EVOs up there. The whole world was at war with them, and the whole world was losing.

Really, the EVOs scared Rex way more than the faceless, nameless, shadowy bad guys he was actually being protected against. Those people were just that – people – and Rex felt pretty confident he could kick their butts should they try to come after him now. The EVOs, not so much. Like, if it took a whole squadron of Providence grunts to bring down one EVO'd dog, what chance would Rex stand against them?

EVOs made him feel terribly sad, too. EVOs were really just people, or animals or whatever, who were changed into monsters against their will. Rex had seen so many news stories where people would turn EVO and kill their entire families without meaning to, and then Providence would show up to either lock them away forever or kill them on the spot. Becoming an EVO was like dying, only worse. It was like turning into a bomb first and taking out as many people around you as possible while you blinked out of existence.

The worst part was that he might turn into an EVO, too, and no amount of dirt between him and the rest of the world would protect him from that. He could turn into an EVO, or even Six, and now, Dr. Holiday.

Going up top was going to be awesome – he knew that. It was something he had always wanted. But inevitably, he was going to see EVOs up there. Not so awesome. Not awesome at all.

Rex flopped onto his back and returned to staring at his ceiling. Feeling rather too depressed now to stand up, Rex pressed his hand to the wall next to him. Glowing blue lines spiderwebbed from his fingertips, connecting him to the circuitry. He knew these particular wires well, so it was easy to find the circuit he wanted and tell the electricity flowing there to stop. As soon as he did, the light in his ceiling went dark, leaving only the blue matrix on the wall to dimly illuminate the room. When Rex removed his hand, it quickly faded, too.

He lowered his hand; it tingled with the residual energy of talking to the wires.

At least he wasn't an EVO. He had never really thought he was – after all, having a power did not have to be the same as having a mutation. But it was good to have it confirmed by a specialist. Now, he could feel confident in exploring what else this ability meant.

If he wasn't an EVO, his powers had to come from somewhere else. And probably, this could explain everything. Someone out there knew that he was special, and they were afraid of him, so they wanted to destroy him. So obviously, Rex's parents wiped his memory for his own safety and entrusted him to Six.

And that meant his powers had to be important. He just didn't know how to use them properly.

All of that would change with high school. As soon as he went to the outside world, he would encounter misdeeds, crimes, and dangerous situations – and maybe even EVOs – that would force him to do battle and learn his true strengths. Maybe he could even find an arch enemy. The Big Bad.

He could be like Spiderman. Spiderman was just a high school student when he became a…

"…superhero." Rex whispered the word aloud with a guilty thrill.

Rex could end up saving New York, or the whole country, or the world!

These past three years must have been the training-on-a-desert-island montage, just placed out of order. That was okay. The training montage was always so boring it warranted a time skip, so if Rex was already finished with it, he wouldn't have to bother later.

Rex liked getting boring things out of the way first. That was his style.

Well, when the boring things couldn't be avoided entirely, that is.

He sat up and swung his legs over to hang off the bed, feeling the rough carpet of the floor under his toes. This wasn't a time to feel depressed. His whole life was about to change. He should feel pumped. And he did. Rex was absolutely pumped. He didn't expect he would be able to sleep at all that night. How was he supposed to get through three whole weeks of waiting?

The three weeks went by more quickly than Rex had anticipated. After Dr. Holiday returned from Colorado with all of her belongings and moved into the bunker (sadly, she would not be rooming with Rex; that was for the best, he guessed, since having a roommate would make things pretty crowded), she always ate meals with him and sometimes joined him for his exercise. Rex found it was really easy to talk to Dr. Holiday. He could tell her about anything, and she never seemed bored to listen.

Then, the high school had sent him a welcome pack of the material he'd missed from the 9th grade year there, and these new textbooks and worksheets replaced the ones he usually used. Rex was happy to discover that he knew almost everything already, and completing this 'homework' – he'd never had homework before! Just work! – was pretty fun.

Six gave Rex a lot of new things in the meantime. He got new clothes, new shoes, 'school supplies', and a backpack. He got a cell phone, and at first Rex was shocked that Six even considered that he would need a phone to collect friends' numbers with and to send them text messages. And if that had been Six's true intentions, Rex would have had every right to have been shocked.

Naturally, there was a more Six-like reason behind the phone. "Since we will be separated for over seven hours every day, I need a way to contact you in case of emergency."

Even so, that didn't mean Rex couldn't use the phone to collect numbers.

Most impressively, Rex got a new name.

He had never had a last name. If Six knew what it was, he never revealed it, probably for 'Rex's own good', like most things that were 'classified'. Which was basically everything.

So the last name Six gave him now was probably a fake, but it was exciting nonetheless.

And then it was Monday, the first day of school. Rex had hardly been able to sleep the night before, and when he sat down to breakfast with his two bunker-mates, he could hardly eat for the nervous anticipation souring his stomach. He almost cried when he learned Dr. Holiday had made lunch for him; she gave him the little, insulated, fabric lunchbox just after he shouldered his new backpack.

"Have a good day, Rex," she said, smiling warmly.

He swallowed. "Do you think I'm forgetting something? Am I wearing pants?!" A quick glance assured him he was, in fact, panted.

"It's time to go," said Six before leaving the room. For better or worse, Rex was forced to follow.

Six led him to a part of the bunker he rarely visited – the front elevator. Rex knew he could get out of the place if he really wanted to; that is, he had the ability. But, with Six watching Rex's every move with his bajillion cameras, he would not have gotten far. Plus, it would have put his secret at risk, and for nothing.

His guardian punched the code at the door, and it slid open. Inside was the little box Rex had last stood in three years ago, descending into the earth, wondering what he would see. Back then, he'd been excited to go into the bunker; now, he was excited to leave it.

Elevators were good places, he decided. They moved people.

Rex stepped inside and watched the gray, featureless, familiar hallway disappear. The elevator hummed around him, and he understood everything about it. He could feel its brain through his feet.

They glided smoothly upwards, and when they reached the top, the wall in front of Rex hissed and moved out before swinging open. Rex was bombarded with noises – New York City street noises, just like he'd heard on TV so many times. Wide-eyed, he stumbled out of the elevator.

He was back in that little alleyway. Brick surrounded him on two sides, like a hallway. At the end of the passage, cars zoomed past, and people were walking – so many people, wearing all sorts of things! The concrete was firm under his feet, but somehow it felt different from the concrete floors of the bunker. And the smells! The smells were so new! Rex didn't even know what they were coming from, but he thought that a hundred different smelly things must be nearby. He wished he could go find them all.

His head tilted back almost of its own accord. Up there, past black metal stairways and various shiny-glassed windows, was a strip of blue, streaked with white. The sky.

Rex tried to remember the last time he had seen the sky. He had some vague memories of the very beginning, being on a beach somewhere in South Carolina, arriving in New York City in the early morning. He'd seen the sky then, but he didn't remember it being quite this shade of blue.

The air swirled around him, like a fan was blowing. It tugged at his clothes, and Rex finally realized it was the wind.

This was outside.

"Rex," said Six, a few feet away. The man was wearing a forest green suit, to make him look less conspicuous, he had said. Rex thought it looked ridiculous, but Six probably knew more about up-top fashion than he did, so he let it slide.

Rex swallowed. "I'm coming," he said and marveled at how the open air seemed to suck the power right out of his voice. So cool.

Six led Rex to the end of the alley. Parked on the curb was an unremarkable, black, compact car. Distant muscle memory led Rex to grab the handle on the passenger-side door, open it, and get inside. The new technology swirled its energy around him even before Six turned over the ignition. He'd never explored such a thing as a car before, and if he'd been less preoccupied with other things – like the city of New York – Rex would have let his senses spread through the machine to figure out how exactly it worked. It had even been years since Rex had met new technology.

His guardian started the car and pulled into traffic. While they drove, Rex's face was pressed against the window so he could see as much as possible.

"Do you remember the rules?" asked Six.

"Duh. You made me write them down."

"School is a privilege, not a right, Rex," said the man. "If you break one rule, one time, I'm pulling you out."

"I'm not going to break your stupid rules," huffed Rex, breath fogging the window. "This is too important for me."

"As long as we're clear," said Six, and he seemed to be satisfied.

The twenty minute drive to Benjamin Franklin High School flew by, and soon, Six was pulling the vehicle up to the front of a massive, brick building. Kids of all shapes and sizes were swarming to the front doors, from the sidewalk, from other cars, from the buses lined up at the side of the building, talking with each other so loudly that Rex could hear them from inside the car. Suddenly, high school seemed very, very real.

"I'll be here at 3:30," said Six, oblivious to the fact that Rex was frozen stiff. "I expect you to be here, too."

"Uh huh," Rex replied weakly.

"Remember that you need to go to the front office first."

"Uh huh…"

"And try not to turn into an EVO."

Rex, dumbfounded, stared at his guardian. "Seriously?"

"I wanted to make sure you were listening."

"Most parents say something like, 'Make good choices!' Not, 'Don't turn into a monster today!'"

"I consider that to be making a good choice. Do you have your phone?"

Rex flashed the little dark green flip-phone at the man, rolling his eyes. "Yes, I have my phone. Get off my case. I'm going now." He flung the door open and placed his feet on the ground before realizing the significance of the moment. Now it was too late. So he stood, slammed the door behind him, and was left alone in this strange new world.

Gripping a backpack strap in one white-knuckled hand, his lunchbox in the other, Rex took his first steps as a high school student.

Noah Nixon strode out of the classroom with all the swagger he possessed, twirling his ping pong paddle like a freshly fired gun and stashing it in his backpack.

Noah was now a sophomore, officially an "old pro". Now on another level from them, he was able to spot newcomers to this school with ease – shorter, even more awkwardly proportioned than most teenagers, with just a glimmer of the hope of childhood left in their eyes. And they would look up to him, he who had already braved most of the trials BFHS had to offer.

Noah, feeling notably superior, smirked. He could get used to this.

The table tennis club had just had its first meeting of the year. It was the earliest they'd ever met, but if they wanted to beat East Side this year, they had no time to spare. Admittedly, table tennis wasn't the coolest sport that the high school had to offer, but they already had a good crop of freshman who wanted to join to replace the members who had graduated. They were not off to a bad start.

There were about twenty minutes left before classes began. Noah dug his crumpled class schedule out of his pant pocket and decided to get started. First, lockers. His was on the second floor.

Noah took one of the corner stairwells, nodding at old classmates on the way, wondering briefly about the origins of certain stains that had been there all through his freshman year, too. The whole building was old, smelled of mildew, and was kind of battered. The school had replaced all of the busted windows, probably in celebration of the new year, but one hall on the third floor was still closed because of the kid who had turned EVO there the year before Noah arrived. Even though no one had died, a lot of people said it was haunted.

But, the funny smells, weird stains, and structural instability made the whole building seem kind of homey – just like grandma's house, only more… institutional.

Noah found his locker. Being on the middle floor was pretty convenient, and it wasn't in the worst spot. So far so good. He looked at the combo written in pen next to the locker number on his schedule, and after a couple of tries, was able to get it open.

Noah put his stuff away, closed the door, and realized that the kid two lockers over from him was still fumbling with his lock. He'd been there before Noah arrived, and had now resorted to glaring at the door like he thought his eyes could melt through it.

He didn't recognize the guy. Must be a freshman. "Need some help?" said Noah, feeling old, wise, and philanthropic. One of his SAT-prep words barged in, further swelling his head – sagacious.

"I don't understand why anyone needs to lock up their books," the kid replied. "Are those really hot items to be stolen?"

Noah shrugged. "The books aren't, but a lot of students bring their JM Pods and JM Pads to school, too. Those are worth a pretty penny." Noah knew that only too well. He sighed, wistful.

The kid frowned. "Uh… jammin' whats?"

"You know, like, JM Inc.?" (1)

"Jamming ink? For a printer?"

Noah gaped. Was this guy serious? "No offense or anything, but have you been living under a rock?"

The new kid looked stunned. "How did you…? I mean, no. I was, uh, homeschooled."

"Under a rock," Noah drawled. Then an idea occurred to him. He wrapped an arm around the kids' shoulders and offered him a friendly smile. "So, you're new here and, not to brag, but I'm an old pro. If you want, I could show you the ropes, teach you everything you need to know and need to avoid while navigating the choppy waters of public education. What do you say?"

Noah was afraid the kid was about to burst into tears. "You'll be my sempai?"

"I don't know what that is, but sure, I'll be your sempai." Noah pulled away and turned to face the other boy. He stretched out a hand. "My name's Noah. Noah Nixon."

The kid's eyes seemed to light up upon seeing the offered hand. He grabbed it with his own painfully tight grip and shook so hard Noah thought he might dislocate something. "I'm Rex," he said. "Rex Rodríguez."

(1) JM Inc. - a company I've invented for the Script Initiated: universe. It's pronounced, "Jammin' Ink", hence Rex's confusion. This company shows up again later.

A/N: I'm so sorry for the long wait. When this new school year began, my job became unbelievably busy. The last two and a half months, if I was not working, I was usually sleeping, and there were days I thought I would faint. Writing became no more than wishful thinking...

But, here we are! Let me know what you think of this chapter! I introduced two new POVs, Rex and Noah. Outside of the four characters so far (Six, Dr. Holiday, Rex, and Noah), I probably won't write other viewpoints, except on special occasions. So, I really want to have their voices down.

This chapter is also a fair bit shorter than the others. It was originally 1200 words longer, but I think those pages fit better in Chapter Three. So it goes. But, this also means Chapter Three is already 20 percent finished! Haha.

Thanks to YellowAngela, Nicky, WerewolfCrime, and all of the Guests who reviewed!

I won't make any promises about when the next chapter will be up. I'll simply ask, please be patient! Ganbarimasu! (I'll do my best!)