Draconus545719: that's the beauty of it all; there is a very thin line between good and bad. Who the real bad guys are, I leave up to the readers ;)

Dearg Ruadhri: yeah, the 'fall' described the philosophical fall from grace, not a potential outcome of this fight. Because as it is, this can still go anywhere. Anyway, thanks for the compiment!

"Children are malleable. They learn at an astonishing rate, their bodies are ripe for adjustments and their minds are a blank slate. A child can become anything it wants. And they are easily intimidated. They do as you tell them and eventually, they grown to accept it. But even if you were to hypothetically prepare a child from birth to accept the usage of this suit, it would not work. We have the toughest materials, we have the rarest Dust, we have everything we need. The human body…doesn't. the ACE suit is impossible to wear for any living being, Aura-trained or not, for two reasons. First: the complete integration of the suits has to be on neurological level for optimal results. Second: the human mind cannot cope with both directing the suit as directing their own vital functions. Either the suit or the body works, but not both. Individuals with exceptional Aura levels had higher chances of success, but they too become casualties. It requires processing power that one soul alone cannot deliver. Enter the Catalyst Program."

Her footsteps made too much noise. She hated it. She didn't want that. She needed to be quiet -be still and unnoticed, regain what was lost.

"And that was when we picked Arc up from that mental asylum. Crazy people are everywhere, you know? Come along Nikos."

Pyrrha suppressed the urge to punch the man and straightened her back. No enemy was going to take her dignity from her and no madman was going to strip her of her morality. "Including this unit."

The doctor-person laughed. Genuinely. "That's not what I meant. When we plucked you from Mistral what were you doing?"

She refused to answer that question, lest her patience would disappear completely.

"That's right, helping the few remaining cities to fend off the Grimm."

Why ask her when he already knew the answer? Arrogant, pompous asshole.

"Did you notice anything weird? Things that didn't belong there?"

"People dying," Pyrrha replied. "And more will die now that I am no longer there to help them. Can you explain that?"

"In a moment. You didn't experience anything weird, because the weird was laying waste to Vale. The Grimm evolved, Nikos. Evolved to counter our most powerful asset. Know what that is?"

"Aura."

"One point for the redhead! They evolved to counter our Aura. Specifically, to use it against us. You'll experience it sooner than later, but let's just say that the specific weird has a…detrimental effect on those with untrained minds."

"Is that what happened to Arc?" Pyrrha asked. She hadn't seen him in the first few days at Beacon, but that didn't say a lot. Nothing special had happened the first few days, except that the professors had made plans for something they called an initiation.

"No, not at all. Don't be silly."

Gods, she wanted to break his limbs so bad.

"Arc is a special case," the loony doctor continued, his white coat fluttering behind them as they entered a new place in the base. "One I haven't really cracked yet. But that's not why you are here."

"Then tell me!" Pyrrha snapped. "Tell me what could be so important that you people had to kidnap me from the city I had sworn to protect!"

They walked across a long wallway, spanned above a massive room. Pyrrha looked over the edge and saw something that reviled her so much that she stopped dead in her tracks. Anger and sorrow rose up like bile and she placed a hand in front of her mouth to prevent the doctor from hearing her horrified gasp.

"Ah," the doctor said, his green eyes flashing with amusement. "Our new recruits. How silly of me to forget the training schedule…wait, I have the schedule right here. Oh well."

There were children, easily a hundred of them. Some looked half her age, some even younger. Outfitted in gray fatigues, small combat boots on their feet. They were training alright; pushups, sit-ups, running track…fighting, hand-to-hand and with knives. Drill instructors were everywhere, shouting and lashing out with what had to be electrified stun batons. The screaming was so loud that she wondered how she had not noticed it before.

"You use children?" she asked with disgust.

"Yes," the doctor replied, his cheerful tone fading away. "Apart from the students we saved from the Academies, we do."

Pyrrha whirled around, glaring at the sick son of a Grimm. "Why?"

"Why?" he raised his eyebrows, meeting her stare head-on. There was no remorse or pity to be found in the myriad of emotions his face expressed. "Because they learn quick. Because they believe everything you tell them. Because they are so malleable. The younger you start, the more skilled the soldier you will get."

"And after the war?" Pyrrha asked, incredulous. "What do you do with thousands of child soldiers when the war is over?"

"Over? Nikos, think. The war is already over! The Grimm won! There's nothing left out there. We are the last functioning system left in Remnant. Atlas put up an impressive fight, but even with our help, they fell. Vacuo was crushed without much resistance and…well, you've seen Mistral."

Pyrrha scowled and looked away. There was logic in this madness, however much she hated to admit that. "What do you want from me?"

"That's an easy one. We -and with we I really mean Onyx- are going to take this world back. We plan on taking the fight to the Grimm."

This time, Pyrrha couldn't keep suppressing her emotions. She laughed without humor and crossed her arms. "What, on your own? Against all the Grimm on Remnant?"

"Yup. Us, and our many degrees of plans and doctorates. Gathering all combat forces in the city of Vale is the first step. After all, the final battel of the war was lost there. It's only fitting."

"There are still students there?" Pyrrha asked. "Without governments, without systems? You said people went crazy because of some Grimm. Are they in there with the students, too?"

"Yup," the doctor said without hesitation. "And I've got every reason to believe that most of them are alive and kicking. Of course, not all of them can be used. We've got reports coming in of gangs, led by four former students. It seems they've been in touch during the start of the education."

"And you spirited me away from Mistral for that? To recruit your new pawns?"

"Nope. We've got people on the recruiting part. No, I need you to keep an eye on Arc. In former Beacon tradition, we want four-man cells operating under our command. Once we found you two new partners, we can start cracking."

"I won't follow you in this madness," Pyrrha said, clenching her fists. She was unchained, unbound, and the only thing keeping her back was her distaste for needless violence. "I want…I need…"

"No lawyers left alive. No officials left to talk to," the doctor said. "Nobody official to talk to except for some officers. And believe me, you'd rather talk to me. The world as you knew it is gone, Pyrrha Nikos. We're fighting to bring it back. If you want to, we can dump you in the wild back in Mistral. With some luck, you won´t immediately die the first day." After those stern words, he paused.

"What's to stop me from killing you and escaping?" Pyrrha quietly asked, staring straight past the man and wondering if she truly could. After all, if there was any truth to his words, there were so few of them left now. Humans. She had always ever slain beast, not man. But for her own wellbeing? If it meant she could escape this madness? Perhaps. Maybe.

"Weeeeell..." the doctor said, leaning back against the metal framework that surrounded the catwalk. Dangerously so. A single punch or kick would send him straight over the edge. Would he survive such a wall? "You could try to kill me. In theory. Assuming for a second that you will win -don't count on it- but just assuming you will win. Where will you go?"

"Anywhere," Pyrrha said. "Anywhere but this hellhole."

"Do you know where the exit is? Do you even know if there is an exit? Because, between seven security checkpoints and an army of trained officers, think of the opportunity."

"What opportunity?" Pyrrha snapped. "I will be escaping. That is the opportunity."

"Not for you," the doctor said with a big grin. He pointed at the training children below them with a thumb and added, "for them. A live target, trying to escape their home. We could make it a game for them because…you see, some of them still think of this as a big game. The first one to draw blood, the first one to get the kill, the first one to bag the body."

"Oh god…" Pyrrha whispered, backing away from the twisted fuck. "You're sick."

Below her, small groups of the training children stopped fighting and working and craned their heads to the two sad people arguing on the catwalk above.

"Not sick, I'm physically fine. Not philosophically, because philosophy died with our civilization. You judge me by your values, not the values of this world. That's a mistake. What if you try to escape? Will you fight them? All of them? Do you think they will stop simply because you ask them to?"

"I will find a way," Pyrrha said with a weak voice. Every passing second made her feel less certain about herself -about this.

"Will you? Correct me if I am wrong -my days as a Huntsman are a bit rusty- but to stop the Grimm, you will have to kill them. And humans are every bit as tenacious as them. So, Pyrrha Nikos versus an army of our trainees. How much blood will you spill just for any semblance of freedom? How many will you kill?"

Of his words, several lingered with Pyrrha longer than they should. Former Huntsman. How low the mighty had fallen. Would this happen to her too? Would she lose her humanity in a misguided attempt to safe it?

When she didn't reply to him, the man's grin faded away. "We all have a role. Some have to stretch the boundaries of what is human, while others have it easy. Others simply have to fight and win."

"Fight who?" Pyrrha asked. "The Grimm? Your other pawns?"

"Right now, we are somewhat short on manpower. We lost half our troops during the Last War. The year that never ended. You know, last year? When Vale fell as well? Unfortunately, Onyx does not possess the capability to defeat every single Grimm on every single Kingdom. And now we don't have that capability at all."

"So you're recruiting," Pyrrha said, crossing her arms. She had the feeling that it didn't matter what she told this man -he would not mind. Either he was mad and he didn't see it, or he was mad and he long since recognized that. "Others like me?"

"In a way. You'll be seeing some of your former Beacon students eventually."

"I never got to study with them. I was at Beacon for three or four days, before the city fell. The Professors made one last attempt to evacuate us, but many were lost."

"I know," the doctor said. "You got on the ships, others did not. But they didn't die, Pyrrha. Those that the Academies couldn't save, we did. Places that fell weeks before too."

"You have students in your ranks?"

"Well, they were all given the rank of Field Agent, meaning that they stand above the average trooper but still have to answer to officers. Mister Arc used to be a student too. You might meet others, if you behave."

As if that would do her any good. She might recognize some, she might not. But all the same, it would be a reminder of what she could have reached, but had been taken from her.

"So what do you want from me?" Pyrrha asked for what felt like the fifth time that day. "And don't…don't dwindle about it. Who do you need me to fight?"

"Right now, you can rest easy. Keep an eye on Arc, wait until further orders. General Eventide and Commander Yale both think our Operatives can handle the situation in Vale…and I don't openly disagree with them. Come along Nikos."

Ignoring her feeble protests, the man walked off again, forcing Pyrrha to walk with him. They crossed the catwalk and -thankfully- left the young 'recruits' behind.

Arguably, they entered a worse area. In here, there were only people in black suits and black helmets, completely covering up everything that made them human. People with pistols attached to their hips, carrying large rifles as they patrolled the hallways. They didn't do as much as glance at their direction -at least as far as Pyrrha could tell- but she knew that, if provoked even the slightest bit, they would kill first and ask questions later. She could feel it in her soul and it had never lied to her before. These people felt wrong.

"You will be answering to a lot of different people, Nikos," the doctor told her over his shoulder, his long labcoat fluttering behind him as he strode through the hallway. To believe that this man had once been a Huntsman…what had he seen that he had changed like this? What had happened to him that he had so utterly disregarded everything he had sworn to uphold?

"Who can I trust?" she asked as she hurried to keep up with the pace.

"Truth or theory?"

"…truth?"

"Nobody. Theory?"

"Theory?"

"In theory, you still can't trust anyone. But you will obey them all."

"And what if I don't want to?" Pyrrha asked, moving aside to let a duo of soldiers rush past her.

"Then you will either be executed, or left behind. Whichever you prefer."

But that wasn't fair! "And if they ask me something I can't accept? What if they order me to-?"

"To commit crimes your unstained soul can't burden?" the doctor replied, seemingly able to tell what she was thinking without even having to look at her. "Well, you students are always good at improvising. If they order you to do something, you do it. No questions asked. Wing it, twist it, but do it."

When they reached the end of the hallway, the doctor stopped. To the left was a door, to the right were two doors and there as a large elevator in front of them. They were alone. So why did she feel like she was being watched?

"Normally, I don't bother," the doctor said, reaching for a pocket inside his coat. "But you give me a funny feeling. You're different from the rest. You're promising."

"I am?" Pyrrha said. Should she feel creeped out or simply awkward? She always hated it when people praised her for achievements they had not personally witnessed her perform. It wasn't necessary.

The doctor reached for what looked like a thin, small scroll. "You are. I know your records, I watched you fight. You're so much more than the other Agents, but you're so compassionate. You can't hold a candle to the Operatives, but you're not dead inside. You're…you are human. That is going to make your life here…so difficult."

"What do you mean?" Pyrrha asked, but the doctor wasn't looking at her anymore. It looked like he had faded out, staring at the wall with half-glassy eyes.

"You are going to grief and scream and rage against the heavens. But if you make it…if you can make it, without compromising your soul, fate might hold something special for you. Yes…I think it can."

"What-?"

The doctor promptly extended two hands to her, one held out as a greeting and the other with the modified scroll. After a brief moment of confusion and hesitation, Pyrrha reached for the scroll and took it.

"If you want to survive here, you should trust me and only me. Welcome to Onyx, Pyrrha Nikos. My name is doctor Adamant. I think you and I are going to be seeing each other a lot."

Pyrrha wasn't sure if that was a threat or a promise, but she could accept it. "I look forward to it," she said, repeating that same threatening tone as the man had been using with her.

His smile only grew wider.

The wall came crashing down with a thundering roar, showering Blake with pieces of stone and dust. Her reflexes kicked in and she leapt backwards, avoiding the nigh-invisible strike of the warrior who had smashed through it. Her hands made contact with the floor and she pushed herself up and away as the follow-up strike came, equally as fast and ferocious as the strike that had nearly ended her had her instinct not warned her.

Her trained eyes took in the details of her opponent in flashes of movement, granting her a greater insight in his abilities and limits. So far, what she saw, didn't inspire her much. The filth's capability of tracking her through the bowels of this building were extraordinary; as agile and fast as she was, she was unable to shake it.

That alone wouldn't have been much of an issue -she had fought enough speed-oriented enemies in her life- if she had been capable of harming it at all. Because, for whatever reason, she couldn't hit him. The privileged piece of garbage was faster than he looked; it was as if he could see when her strikes were coming, regardless of their actual line of sight. Was it his Semblance?

"I've got a message for you, Pariah," the soldier told her matter-of-factly as he stepped through the opening he had made in the wall, casually slinging his weapon back to its holster on his back. Was he human? Faunus? What did he want with her?

"I have one too," Blake said as she noticed one of the steam pipes running along the ceiling. She threw her weapon at it, allowing the dark ribbon to wrap itself around the metal shaft before pulling, hard. The metal pipe cracked and shattered, sending a ragged piece of metal straight towards the soldier's face. But instead of it hitting and subsequently skewering him, he merely caught it in one fist and tore it out of its frame, as if it meant nothing to him.

"Not relevant," he gave his reply. His reflecting visor betrayed absolutely nothing about him and even his voice was level and calm. Not many humans could stay so clam in a fight like this. Why was it that her most dangerous enemies were also the most interesting ones to keep in mind for recruitment? "Listen close, Miss Belladonna. Right now, Operative Mantis is on her way to pay Permafrost a little visit."

The fact that he knew her name didn't frighten Blake much; as the current leader of the White Fang, most people knew who she was. No, what really got to her was the idea of another of these freaks going after Weiss. And Mantis…she knew that name. She had heard it before. Where? Who was going after Weiss?

Blake rolled away from her cover and aimed her pistol at the soldier, hoping to keep him in place long enough to find a way out. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Consider it a little…test…of our own. Three things can happen to Schnee tonight. One: you don't find her in time and she dies. Two: you find her in time and you both die. Three: you find her in time and both of you live."

Her mind racing to find the shortest route to her ally, Pariah asked, "Why should I believe you?" her finger itched to pull the trigger, but she had to stop herself. She had to be patient.

The large soldier glared at her from behind his helmet, she could feel it. "You don't have to. Youi could just…ignore me, and finish this fight."

She was out of options here. If she fell for his threat, she would be leading him straight to Schnee's hideout. If she ignored him, the girl might die. What did she have to lose? If these shadows were truly as all-knowing as Ruby said they were, their safehouses weren't safe altogether.

"Then stop wasting my time, human!" Blake snapped, pulling the trigger and forcing the Onyx soldier to take cover. If they wanted a test, she would show them. "If your masters think you can stall me, maybe your head will tell them otherwise!"

"Stall?" the soldier replied as he whirled away from his cover, rifle at the ready. "We don't stall, we hunt. Start running, or you won't make it."

As befitting of a dog; he was going to chase her down. Very well; on her terms, she could agree to this.

Vale cityscape -02:13-

With a predatory glare, Yang Xiao Long glared at the lone form of the Onyx shadow that was walking down the street. Her street. It didn't look like it knew about that though. It simply strolled down her domain, occasionally looking around, perhaps reassured by the weight of its black rifle.

It shouldn't be expecting much resistance here. This was her place; everyone else had been killed already. Well, everyone she couldn't use, that was. But the Malachite twins broke so easily. Frail, cowardly little things. They couldn't be much use for whatever Ruby had planned for them.

The blonde walked closer to the edge of the rooftop, watching the soldier wander right into the middle of the street. Like many matters, this did not make sense to her. Why would it do that? It would get spotted if it kept that up. Did it want to get spotted?

No, of course not. Nobody weak wanted to get spotted.

Yang scowled and activated her Ember Celica's. If this thing wanted to get spotted, it thought of itself as not weak. So it had come here to challenge her authority, her dominance, to test that strength? Something about that didn't really work.

Something nagged at her, preventing her from immediately scorching this little bird. Something that used to be able to warn her of dangerous things, like people and places. Something that didn't seem to work anymore lately.

Oh well.

The blond-haired crime-lord leaped off the rooftop, launching several blasts at the lone soldier. The bolts of fire burned a bright trail through the night, before exploding on impact and creating large craters in the streets. Somehow, they had not hit the Onyx shadow. She did not miss, so it had dodged.

Yang could feel a familiar stab of disappointment; if this thing couldn't take what she had, it was going to break like a little twig when she got her hands on it. So sad. At least she could relish in the screaming.

It did not even have the guts to stand tall before her! No martial arts stand, no weapon aimed at her, nothing. Arms hung uselessly at its side, rifle slung along its back. Was it going to surrender already? Silly thing. Didn't it know that she did not take prisoners?

"Hello," it said with a voice that didn't really sound like that of a shadow. Younger, a bit too high-pitched. Obviously male. She didn't give a damn about its gender and neither did she give a damn about its words. Everybody always used words, everybody always lied. Humans and their words, people and their lies.

Yang didn't let him finish. She lunged at him, throwing several quick jabs at his helmeted face. Each one had the potential to smash in the skull of any normal person, but only if they hit. The shadow did not allow her to hit him; he weaved back and forth, dodging her attacks with surprising agility. With a growl, Yang lashed out with her leg and tried to swipe him off his feet. That too he dodged, much to Yang's frustration. She could feel her internal temperature rising, feel the flames encroaching on the borders of her mind. There was always so much anger, so much hate. Something was missing that she couldn't find and it angered her so much.

"Wait," the soldier called as he dodged another barrage from Ember Celica, leaping at the side and performing a cartwheel to dodge the last explosion.

More words. Yang snarled and jumped at the shadow with an overhanded attack, trusting in the weight and density of her gauntlets to break through his defensive stance.

But the soldier did something she hadn't expected. Instead of foolishly trying to block her attack and break both of his arms, he stepped closer and brought his hands together, redirecting her arms and exposing her chest for a counter-attack.

Which he took. Sort of. With an open-handed palm strike, he merely succeeded in knocking her back a few meters.

Yang rolled back to her feet, bristling. Flames licked at the fringes of her hair and rolled down her limbs as she thought about what had just happened. The bastard wasn't going to escape here alive.

She kicked off again, shattering the ground underneath her feet. Within a heartbeat she clashed with her foe again, kicking and punching at every possible opening. It didn't work damnit! The shadow was too elusive, too tricky. It avoided all of her attacks by simply moving and repositioning itself. Stepping to her side, subtly shoving and pulling at her, constantly playing hell with her balance. When she nearly fell to the ground for third time, her frustration and anger reached a fever pitch and her emotions spun out of control. There was a blast of light, an explosion of fire that shattered the glass of every single window in a radius of a dozen meters. The heat washed off of her and melted the concrete below her feet, but she barely noticed that as she clashed with her prey once more.

"Fight me!" she all but screamed at him, dashing back and forth between the two sides of the street as she shadow took larger and larger moves

"Just listen!" It replied to her. His words merely fueled her hatred and her next punch carved a deep trail through one of the houses, from the top all the way down to the street.

Again, the shadow eluded her with its unpredictable behavior. Instead of running away, it stood still. It just stopped moving, frozen in place between two separate other movements.

Not knowing what to expect of something like that, Yang just leapt at him again and hit him with another punch, hitting him dead-center in its chest. The thin field of Aura around him existed only for a split-second before it faded away, allowing her to finally connect with her victim. The force of her attack knocked him back several meters as well, tumbling across the broken street before he came to a halt against a burning wall.

Yang took a deep breath and closed her eyes. That was that. Nothing needed more than one punch to stay down for good.

The sounds of breaking stones shook her out of her thoughts and she opened her eyes again, glaring at the dark form of the shadow that was climbing back to its feet. Alive, intact.

With a feral growl, Yang jumped at the rising soldier, colliding with him before he could recover from what should have been a lethal blow. The two of them smashed through one of the windows and rolled across the burning floor, fighting nail to tooth to stay up top. Yang pulled her arm back and tried to smash its skull her foe's skull in, but he managed to defend himself at the last moment by ducking low and letting her gauntlet slip over his arm.

But when the two of them crashed against what felt like the counter of a bar, Yang came out on top. She took a good, long look at her fallen opponent, wondering why it was that he didn't resist her. He just lay there, slack and accepting, like a good little pet.

"I'm not here to fight," he said as Yang reached for his helmet to remove it. She wanted to look in his eyes as she crushed the life out of him. See the light in his eyes fade away. It brought peace to the raging flames inside of her mind when that happened.

"Coward," she snapped at him as she tore the black helmet from his head and discarded it with one movement. "You lie. Your kind always does!"

Her fist connected with his head and slammed it against the ground. It was by no means strong enough to outright kill him, as she wanted to savor the moment, but she was still surprised when the hit didn't knock him out. Bruised, with bleeding cuts caused by Ember Celica, but alive.

Only the cuts healed. Not temporarily like Aura did, but actually closed up. Right before her eyes, the flesh knitted itself back together. The bruise lessened, but stayed that way. Also unlike Aura. Selective healing. Impressive.

Something lurched within Yang as she watched her prey regenerate itself. Sturdier than he looked, capable of shrugging off massive hits and also healing himself? This was going to be fun.

"I'm looking for Ruby," he said, facing her again with an odd expression. Calm, without emotions. At least none that she could see. There was something off about his eyes though…those eyes. Different from Blake and Weiss and Ruby. Different from the people she killed, from the civilians who ran and fled. New and…frightening, at one level.

Alone, they were nothing special. They were lacking; dull, empty. Shattered mirrors through which no light may be found. But deeper, something lurked. Something that did not belong with him. Specks of blue and green, hidden in plain sight. Yang couldn't really understand what she was looking at, so she discarded that line of thought. She was on top, he was not. She had won.

Alone.

"You're not doing shit with my sister!" Yang snapped. "Where were you fucks when she needed you, huh?" she grabbed him by his neck to accentuate her words. Bare flesh, unprotected by Aura. Cold under her burning fingers. "Where were you when Beacon burned and everything went to shit!"

He didn't blink when she pulled him up and slammed him down against the ground again. Fuck, Ruby was the one who could read people, not her.

"Vacuo," he responded with a bit of a strain. "The last human war." His face was so much younger than she had expected. Not a man, but a boy. Her age, perhaps older, perhaps younger. Yet so calm…he did not beg, he did not cower. She was going to like this one.

"The fuck that's supposed to mean?"

He closed his eyes, as if concentrating on someone else. "The last time people killed people in a war." When he opened his eyes, the spots of green and blue were gone. "We were too late to save Vale."

She slammed him against the ground once more. "Shut up. What do you want with her, anyway?"

"I need her help," he said.

Did she hear that right? A shadow asking for Ruby's help? "She doesn't want to help you," Yang bit at her prey, digging her fingers deeper into his throat. "She hates you! I hate you!"

"That makes three of us," he replied, blinking a few times. "But I can help her. Or you. I don't care."

"What, you don't care?" Yang said with a sneer. "Didn't you get it? We're your enemies! How about I rip out your throat, see how much you really care?"

"You do your thing," the shadow underneath her replied without even a bit fear. "But let me talk to Ruby Rose first."

Yang grinned and reached for her left boot, where she had strapped one of her favorite knives against its side. "Aren't you a tough boy? What could you…" she drew the edge of her dagger past his throat, meeting no resistance but his pale skin, which easily parted. "…possible have to satisfy me…"

There was no response as she cut into his skin, freeing the way for small trickles of blood to drip down his neck. His eyes never met hers though, not even as she brought the knife to his face and pointed the edge at one of his eyes. There was a lingering moment as his eyes shifted back to hers, during which the cuts slowly knitted themselves together. At that moment, she knew that she had found a match. It was her right, because she had won. He now belonged to her. Her property, to do with as she pleased.

"Alright," she said, a feeling of genuine happiness spreading through her chest. It felt warm…differently warm. Finally, she had found something that could last. Something that belonged to her that wouldn't go away again. "Maybe we can…arrange something."

"Procedure 042 Vytal is based on the ideology and theory of "Ankers". An Anker can be seen as a staging area for airships. The ship can travel everywhere, but it must always return to the staging area. No, that's not quite right. There are certain bacteria that, when threatened, form a protective shell inside of their body where they store their genetic material. This endospore will survive the death of the body and can be kept stable and intact for a long time. When the time is right, the endospore will hatch. An Anker is like that. The Procedure is a process meant to ehm…revert the mind of the Catalyst back to the mental Anker, upon which it can be…implanted."

-Professor J. Ikterine, supervisor of Artificial-Comatose and Health-monitoring. 1 of 2.

CONTINUE? Y/N

PROCESSING FILE

I myself cannot begin to comprehend the absolute horrors that must be inflected upon the subject to initiate this state. To reduce a human being to such a state that their very soul curls up in misery. The files are so thickly covered in ink that even the ink is classified –I have read war-reports describing civilian deaths in horrid detail that were even less covered than this. I guess it's for the better though; I am surrounded by the most brilliant people I have ever known and every single one of them has one sociopathic tendency in common. All of them are involved with 042-Vytal and none of them seem to have committed suicide out of guilt yet. Their resistance to emotions must be extraordinary; I am very glad that my only responsibility is to keep a check on the subject's vital signs. It doesn't do much to help me sleep though. Most of my colleagues do seem to use medicine…perhaps they will lend me some if I ask."

-Professor J. Ikterine, supervisor of Artificial-Comatose and Health-monitoring. 2 of 2.