"I did it…" He whispered harshly. It was no longer the voice of the host-but the voice of the parasite. His eyes were wide open as his left-sided smile seemed to crack the face in half. A mad rush of euphoria released itself into his system sending the feeling of pins and needles into his chest.

Brian succeeded. But he was not exactly rewarded. This was not how he imagined it to be.

The feeling of skin was suffocating, he could feel the massive organ tighten on his internal muscles, closing up on his neck, trying to block off the air. The movement of one finger pained him as the rush of the pins and needles feeling took him by surprise. His heart beat furiously, trying to escape the grasp of the tightening chest muscles around it. Anger seeped into the coursing euphoria giving off the disgusting feeling of erratic anger. It seemed to swim around his body aimlessly, only serving to provide confusion and discomfort.

"Damn it" Brian whispered harshly. Even the ugly skin on the lips seemed disgustingly tight around his once free mouth.

It became obvious that Reality was indeed unbelievably different to the internal conscience. Brian was not loose and forever shape-shifting like he was in the mind. The skin he inhabited conformed to Reality-unlike his original body.

"Suck it up, it's just nerves" He said through clenched teeth. Brian pressed his clumsy hands onto the bed beside him as he feebly attempted to lift himself from the grey floor.

Strength - something Brian did not have in the world outside of the mind. His legs wobbled as he honestly tried to lift himself up with the support of the bed. It was degrading and discouraging, it restricted him from accessing all possibilities.

Brian had lost all power and was vulnerable; weak. He collapsed, knees hitting the concrete floor with a thud. The sudden sensation rushed through his legs and he winced in response. His head screamed with commands and his body refused to obey them – they continued to send pain through his weak legs.

"No, no, no" Brian began to say "okay, okay, practice is all I need" His train of thought taking a sharp turn forward for the better.

"Practice" The daunting word lingered in the sound space.

~XxX~

Game Board: RESET

Progress: RESTART

Initiating Level One

…

Level One ACTIVATED – begin.

~XxX~

~XxX~

'Yesterday had to be brought up. He just had to bring up the topic of yesterday, didn't he?' Burn thought bitterly.

Ed in fact had not brought up the topic of the day before. Ed spoke the name of the girl whose name Burn felt forbidden to hear. Her accusation echoed in his head mercilessly, taunting him, mocking him. He was cursed with a silent humiliation. Justify everything – this became something of a motto over the past few hours, days, possibly.

He was supposed to be a leader, a role model, a friend. But now, he wasn't so sure. He had descended into lowly ranks in which the abnormal courier placed him. Now he was portrayed as the vile, black things that hid in the cracks of the sewers, Burn thought. No, that wasn't right. That's not right at all. Authority meant the World, the Universe, to the orange eyed courier.

His thoughts took a turn and went back to the topic of Fizz. As the train of thought made its way to its source Burn's mind quickly and shoddily built up something of a justification; a lie.

She wasn't there, she didn't know, she was not as smart as she seemed! If she was she would've understood! She would have seen that he was right and that there was something well and truly wrong with the green eyed boy. No one knew but Burn, no one knew about the wrong in Loogie.

However, there was not just the wrong in Loogie but in everyone else, too. They all let it slide one too many a time and look where the childish boy ended up!

The lie in the guise of certainty rapidly began to build itself up until its peak was something close to unreachable, impossible and completely unrealistic.

If they had only done it Burn's way, if only they let him utter an audible scold, set up a punishment. But no, they believed themselves to be righteous things, turning a blind eye on Loogie's actions.

Suddenly Burn's being was nothing but an emotional and fiery buzz of frustration. His face twisted into the very meaning of anger as he ran through the corridor heading for the World outside of the Dojo.

~XxX~

It was taboo to talk of it, to even think of it, was a crime.

It always had been.

And now that the deed had been done it was finally sinking into their heads that their friend was never quite right. They all took it as idiosyncratic behaviour, uniqueness, a taste for the odd and whimsical.

Even Ol'Skool did, more than once, too.

'How do you fix something that has always been broken?' Ol'Skool contemplated. The adept skateboarder's thoughts seemed to whisper very, very quietly, as if not wanting his conscience to notice his thoughts; slipping underneath the giant moral guardian that would trigger the onslaught of scolding, justification and political correctness.

Despite this fact, the old man could not escape the thought of his supposed wrong doing; not even in his sleep. The night filled his head with dreams of guilt and confusion.

Ol'Skool now dreaded the thought of taking a nap.

Life had to go on, did it not? Although, Ol'Skool realised it may never be the same again. How could it? The old man began to worry about the other Dojo members' wellbeing. Not once in these few days did Ol'Skool's mind visit the threat of Bedlam, and the thought itself began to rot.

Normally, the adept skateboarder only had to think for Ed from time to time. Now, he had to think for everyone. Yes, think for them, to advise them to tell them of consequences before they go ahead with an action. He wanted to be the mentor again instead of being the student; the dunce.

Should he leave the Dojo members to their own devices, to get over this on their own? No, that was irresponsible. Strangely enough, though, the idea of it tempted him to try it. The adept skateboarder, shocked at this thought of his, buried the thought alive and focused his energy on creating other, moral, ideas.

Rodney. What about Rodney? He could go off and ask him for advice, or better yet the Dojo couriers could go over to him and - No. No, no, no, no.

The word seemed to break up and look unfamiliar to Ol'Skool.

Ol'Skool decided to obliterate that idea. There seemed to be so many wrongs in that right. Rodney wouldn't understand it and neither would the remaining couriers. The Sensei and even Ol'Skool himself drew the line between Wrong and Right, Good and Evil, Moral and Immoral.

But what was this, this situation?

It was the deep, dark crevasse that lay in between Good and Evil. People got lost there. Not many came out.

It was a place where there was no 'good' or 'bad', there was no 'moral' or 'immoral', 'good' and 'evil'. No, this was the place where the simplistic notions Dark and Light were abolished for the complex build of the crevasse.

How did the old man ignore this giant gap?

How?

~XxX~

Ba-thud, ba-thud, ba-thud

He was gone. The heavy, oppressive cloud was gone. Fizz heard him leave the Dojo, his motorbike revved loudly before it screeched into the hover way.

The bedroom door opened smoothly and the red-head checked the surrounding area before stepping fully into the hallway.

The atmosphere was noticeably lighter. Her conscience had been alleviated from oppression.

Fizz's doubt questioned whether or not this was a cruel thought. No, it couldn't be, not after all of the suffering Burn had made Loogie go through, made her go through. It was simply constructive criticism, with extra emphasis on 'criticism'.

A small, emotionally unaffected, part of her silently wished that Burn's journey through the city would clear his mind.

The young inventor stood in the empty hallway for some time, pretending to contemplate whether she should have toast or cereal, whilst trying to drown out any emotions. It was inevitable and Fizz's emotions came into play; some had names but most were indescribable concoctions of each other. In the end Fizz figured out that she was not actually hungry in the first place. Her legs instinctively lead her towards the Work Room. She stopped.

She no longer cared to build.

The red-head did not want to test her knowledge on mechanics and science. No, she needed to question, interrogate, the truth out of the people around her; the people who now hid in their fragile shells purposelessly.

It seemed to be a strange reversal of sorts. When she broke out of her emotional barricade everyone else retreated to their own little dystopia. Now she could see what everyone else would see in her, day after day.

Fizz had never felt stranger.

Onward.

~XxX~

"Ed, I don't know about this idea of yours" The levitating A.I muttered.

"Torch, please, I've got to do this" The blue-eyed boy replied, eyes on the map. The levitating A.I remained silent.

With a few taps the map zoomed in on Sector 11. Even on the map the area seemed crude and jagged. It reminded Ed of the charred and hollowed neighbourhood that resided, dead, on the edge of the city. The blue eyed boy wondered momentarily about the whereabouts of Sector 10 as it appeared to be non-existent. He dared not dwell upon the thought; curiosity would intervene with his intentions. The sector's appearance resembled the heartbeat of a dying patient; it was barely alive. There was little activity in the area, if any at all, judging by the desolate images the computer spat out. It made Ed question the validity of Ol'Skool's decision. He started to worry.

"You've got to go past that Yard, you know" Torch uttered. Ed took no notice of his holographic companion or his words. Instead, his eyes were intently staring down the hover ways, if they could even be called that, which led to the area. The roads seemed to be tired, old things that intertwined with each other carelessly with shortcuts that seemed to be randomly available in places that seemed unnecessary.

'At least I won't have to worry about using the sewers to get there' Ed thought.

"Torch" The courier said, if not a little unsteadily "Find the hospital" He was blatant and his voice shook slightly, the nervousness seeped a little into his tone.

The A.I noticed, but said nothing and instead obeyed Ed's commands. Within seconds the fastest route to the hospital was lit and an image of said establishment resided in the corner of the map.

Ed frowned.

The place looked lowly and appeared to be exhaling a toxic melancholy.

'Don't judge a book by its cover' Ed's loyalty to Ol'Skool was the one talking; a seemingly distant memory whose faint echo had reached his ears. It was full of optimism – something Ed found he couldn't really trust anymore. Despite this, that spout of naivety and the thin thread of loyalty was the only thing that kept Ed from interrogating his mentor. Torch shared the boy's disappointment.

He stared for a while, trying to scavenge some positivity but all attempts were in vain as his little hope drowned in reality's cold and powerful flood. Several different angles of the building flashed one after the other, each revealing a near identical side if it had not been for the establishment's old and dying state. Shaking his head, Ed shut off the computer entirely, feeling disgusted by the images it had projected into his psyche.

Torch had long since downloaded the route into his database and falsely wondered why his blue-eyed companion gazed at the screen. However, the levitating A.I knew exactly why.

He had the route to the gates of Loogie's new home, after all.

~XxX~

GASP! Brian you monster! Deets was deliberately left out of this chapter – she has had too much writing time anyway. And Torch returns!

Hello all! Sorry that I took so long to write this chapter! I've been so busy with life! Either way, I hope you enjoyed it.

Constructive criticism, reviews and opinions are all greatly appreciated.

Marina, Brian and Marcus Sanderson are copyright to me.

Get Ed is copyright to Andy Knight.