Author's Note: Well, it took me some time to update due to personal and work related issues, but here it is! Hope you enjoy it!

Chapter 53: Kill Your Hopes and Fears (Part Eight: Arjen)

The past…

Arjen awoke suddenly, as if a shiver of cold had run up his spine and into his head.

The first thing he noticed, even before he was fully awake, was the cold…or, better said, the loss of warmth.

He ran his hand down the sleeping mat next to his.

It was lukewarm, meaning its occupant had left not too long ago.

With a sigh, Arjen got up, revealing his slim yet athletic torso, as all he was wearing was the usual, non-descript set of Imperial military pants.

His mind was still dazed a bit, so he didn't gave much thought to the fact that the tent looked much less cramped than usual, almost as if he had never actually shared with someone all this time.

He pushed aside the tent's cloth door as he stepped outside; their tent was one among hundreds pitched on the grassy field, but thanks to luck, they had been blessed with the chance to place their tent right next to were the field ended and made its way down into a hill, allowing for a clear view of the valley beyond, with its forests and rivers.

It came to no surprise to Arjen that his bedmate was sitting on the very beginning of the downward slope, staring at the nightsky.

"Are you still thinking about the general?"-Arjen asked as he sat next to him; had there been any spectators or witness to the scene, they would had immediately realized the wide difference between both young men; Arjen was athletically built but with a slender frame, which, when coupled with a buzzcut hairstyle that drastically decreased the brightness of his naturally orange hair, gave him a slightly frail appearance that made him look considerably younger than he actually was.

On the other hand, the man next to him was perfectly muscular, as if by both nature and effort he had manage to bring his body to a perfect equilibrium of proportions and power; a mane of black, medium length hair ran down his neck and the sides of his head, and even though some long bangs fell over his forehead, they weren't able to cover or even dim his bright blue eyes.

Unlike Arjen, the man was clad in his full imperial uniform, as if he was ready for action at any moment; he had seemingly found a large rock or mound in the dark grass to rest his lower back against as he sat on the ground.

"He did nothing wrong. He followed orders, cared about his soldiers and fought for the Empire…and he is then taken away in chains because of a crime everyone knows he didn't commit!"-Bulat said as he kept looking at the night sky.

"Yes, I know. We all know, Bulat. As did the General. If he resisted arrest, or allowed us to stand up to him being taken away, it would had been a disaster. Do you think the General would betray his honor and love of the Empire by rebelling? Would he even defect to the rebels? Do all of us under his command want that? As unjust as it was, the General did what his honor and heart told him was right, for the sake of us, his men, and the Empire"-Arjen replied.

"So that's it? We're expected to just wait and see which sold out cretin that bastard Honest will replace him with, and then just follow orders like nothing happened?"-Bulat fumed.

"What other options are there?"-Arjen asked.

There was a brief silence...but once Bulat was confident that there were alone and no one was listening, he replied.

"We could join the rebels"-Bulat said flatly.

There was no immediate response.

"I'm serious. We should just pack it and leave, joining the one army that actually gives a damn about the people"-Bulat said.

"Are you serious? Or just out of your damned mind?"-Arjen asked in disbelief.

"I've never been more serious than anything. I'm tired of fighting and killing all the time for no damn good reason, watching comrades die along me in vain, as all the glory and rewards go to the elite, who buy honor and rewards with gold and favors."-Bulat said, as he turned to look at Arjen directly.

Arjen's heart tore up inside his chest as he saw the look in his lover's face. He instantly recognized the determination, strength and willpower he loved more than anything in the world, and knew what would happen next.

"I can't do that, Bulat. I joined the army to save lives, to care for my fellow soldiers as a medic; you are asking me to turn away from them, and betray their trust, betray everything I believe in."-Arjen said.

"So what? You are just going to ignore what is really going on? When you have the chance to actually fight for what is right and make a difference?"-Bulat asked as he got up.

"Are you listening to yourself? Make a difference? What difference? The Rebel Army wants to tear the Empire apart in civil war, and the first victims in wars are the people, while the nobles and soldiers tread over them, regardless of their cause or hoe just they are! Even if they won, then what? Once Honest is dead, what? They will begin killing the nobles, then their political enemies, then anyone who opposes the will of the people, and next thing you know, we have something worse than the Empire in charge. The only way to change things is from the inside, making people's lives better, making it so they can have a better tomorrow, despite how cruel and unkind the world is…you can't change the world any more than you can change its people, but at least you can make a small part of it better without drowning it in blood."-Arjen replied as he got up as well, facing Bulat directly.

"So, this is it then. This is goodbye."-Bulat said as he kneeled down for an instant…and picked up what, because of the darkness, Arjen thought was a rock or just a mound.

It was a packed army bag. The same whose contents had been, just hours ago, spread all over Bulat's side of the tent.

As he soon as he saw the silver chain dangling from the bag's opening, he knew this was real.

Arjen's heart raced along with his mind as the realization of the inevitability of what was about to happen made itself evident…

Before Bulat could react, Arjen had already thrown at him, wrapping his arms around him; tears began to flow from his eyes as he buried his face on Bulat's chest.

"I'm begging you. Don't do this. Don't do this to us. I won't stop you. Even if they imprison me and torture me to death, I won't tell them anything, you know that. But I know in my heart that if you go, you will end up dead or will just exchange the reason for which you kill. Either way you will be lost, not just to me but to the world and yourself. Please…for your sake, don't go."-Arjen pleaded.

Before he knew it, he was kissed and embraced, for what he wished was an eternity.

But as their lips parted apart, and the warmness of that embrace made way for the cold night´s air, he knew it had been just a moment.

"I'm sorry. I really am. I wish things were different, I really do"-Bulat said.

"Me too. But they are not."-Arjen replied…as he took a small dagger out of his back.

Before Bulat could react, Arjen had already jammed it deeply on the side of his own torso, muffling down a scream of pain.

"Run. It´s not a fatal wound, but when I scream in a few minutes, they will believe I tried to stop you and you stabbed me. Just go. Maybe if we are both wrong, we will meet again."-Arjen said as he dropped on one knee from the pain overcoming his body.

"Just promise me….you will fight to end for what you believe in. Forget all about me, about what we had. About what we were. And just fight for it, Bulat. To the end."-Arjen said.

"I will. That I promise you, Arjen. Thank you…for everything"-Bulat said as he threw the pack behind his back, and, after giving one last, worried glance that hurt Arjen more than the blade on his side could ever had, ran down the hill and was lost in the darkness of the night, just as the blackness of unconsciousness took over Arjen and carried him away from all the pain.

Months later…somewhere.

"Get up, traitor scum. You are the next pick for the fun room"-The masked soldier said as he pulled the chains, causing Arjen to rise on wobbling legs.

His hair was long and unkempt, crusted with filth and blood. His body was a pale remnant of what it had been, reduced to just bone, skin and barely enough muscle or mass to keep his organs in their right places.

How long had it been? Weeks? Months? Years, perhaps?

It didn't matter, did it? He had woken up on the cell, a patchwork, half infected hack job of treatment on his wound, wearing just the same pants he had been wearing that night.

When he tried to ask what was going on, they hit him.

When he yelled in despair, they beat him.

When he cried, they beat him even harder.

When he finally learned to keep quiet, eat his foul daily bowl of slop and just sit on the corner of the cell, they left him alone.

He had not been alone when he first awoke in the cell. There had been others, all silent and broken. One by one, they had been taken to the "Fun Room", never to return.

But now, he was the last, and his time had come.

He had been so dazed and elated by just the action of walking and being outside the cell, he almost bumped against the soldier holding his chain as he stopped before a tall, solid steel door.

After a complicated series of knocks, the door swung open, letting out a brightness that blinded Arjen, to the point he collapsed.

When he came to, he was strapped tightly to what looked like an operation table…except there was just crusted blood and ichor stains on it, no utensils or tools of any kind.

"Ah, the subject has regained consciousness."-A voice said as the lights dimmed, allowing Arjen to see he was in the middle of a wide room. Steel plates covered every single piece of surface on the floor, walls and ceiling, while the only door leading outside the room sported one of the most complex and heavy looking locking mechanisms Arjen had ever seen.

All along the walls of the room, heavily armed soldiers stood at the ready…except at one end, where Arjen could see, over his feet, a tall metal container that looked like some ancient, early attempt at a locker, covered in chains and locks.

It was then that a heavy sound echoed through the room. Arjen could even feel a slight vibration of the table he was strapped in because of the strength of the booming echo.

"At, it seems Malice Medica has noticed it too!"-the voice chirped happily, as the face of a middle ages, thin man with slicked black hair and thin glasses came into Arjen's view.

"Well, look at you. Not much meat left on those bones, is there? Then again, it's not like our guest here is picky, so never mind that."-The man said as he took out a file from his jacket, and opened it, ignoring another iteration of the heavy sound.

"Arjen, is it? Brought here as a prisoner under charges of treason and aiding a deserter…my, my, and not exactly just any deserter, but One Hundred Man Bulat himself! I tell you, the Imperial High Command was NOT glad to see such a skilled soldier AND his Teigu gone. Had it been any other common rank and file soldier, you been stabbed as he escaped would had cleared you of suspicion, but I'm afraid you were too skilled, my fellow physician; a perfect, deep stabbing wound that missed all vital organs? That takes skill and planning, I'm afraid."-The man said in a slightly mocking tone of voice.

"Also, kind of scatter brained of you to pretend to had been stabbed before destroying or hiding your personal effects, was it? Or did you planned it that way all along?"-The man said as he pulled out a small, rectangular piece of paper from the folder, and dangled it before Arjen's eyes.

It was a photo of Bulat and him together. They were both smiling about something, but Arjen couldn't remember anything about the picture. Only that Bulat was in it, and that they were happy together.

"Either way, it doesn't matter much, does it? Given the circumstances? Anyway, I'm expecting a new shipment of…subjects tomorrow, so we might as well speed along; I assume that as a fellow doctor, you will at least appreciate your current situation a bit more than your former cellmates."-The man said as he placed back the photo inside the folder and pocketed both, and gave a wave to a couple of the soldiers, who diligently but carefully approached the container and removed the padlocks and chains.

Just as they did so, the container busted open, as some incredible force had struck from within it.

"Arjen, meet Malice Medica…isn't it beautiful?"-The man said as he ducked under the table to pull on something, which caused the table to rise up vertically.

Arjen would had screamed if he had the strength to do so.

Inside the container, what looked like a long, white doctor's coat had been pinned in place with several metal spikes, forcing the coat to extend open…against its will, as the creases, endings and sleeves struggled and pulled, as if it was trying to free itself.

But it was then that Arjen noticed that while the living coat was snow white clean, the edges and far corners of the container were caked in blood, and even some shards of bone and rancid meat were sprayed on the container's floor.

"It's a Teigu, of course. One few people in the Empire know about, given that it was found only recently by a special forces unit during one of their…cleansing missions. Some western halfwits had it buried deep under their holy places, if you could believe it. So, the Prime Minister took it upon himself to send it to this secret facility for experimentation, before it was taken away by the army's research arm"-The man said.

"Of course, aside from its name, which was forced from those filthy foreigners, we don't know much about it, aside from its…feeding habits. Which is where you come in, I'm afraid. Just think of it as contributing to science, my friend"-The man said with a smile as he made a gesture, and two soldiers began pushing the table forward towards the container.

Even if Arjen would had been able to scream, beg or plead, he wouldn't had done so.

All his thoughts were focused on one thing.

That photo...

Was that really me once?

Was it really us?

I want that back.

Not just the photo.

I want that happiness back.

I want it…more than anything else in the world…

And with that last thought, the table stopped rolling, and the container's door closed with a slam.

It was dark for a few moments…and then the whole world turned to white.

It was dark when he opened his eyes again….but it was not quiet.

There was screaming, and the sounds of the dying, as something tore apart steel and flesh with no resistance whatsoever-

"There is no response from the upper levels!"

"What about the doctor?"

"That bastard is gone! Probably had a secret escape passage or something!"

"Is it the rebels?"

"It's right behind the damn door!"

"WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?"

"SHOOT IT! SHOOT IT!"

"NO, HAVE MERCY!"

"PLEASE, I WAS JUST FOLLOWING ORDERS!"

"GODS HELP US!"

The screaming stopped suddenly, and for a while, there was just silence…which was broken by the sounds of locks being picked simultaneously, and chains falling down to the floor.

And then something pulled the doors open.

When Arjen opened his eyes, he was staring at the ceiling again.

He jumped to his feet immediately, and looked at his surroundings.

The steel walls and floor of the room were covered in rips and tears, while the corpses of dozens of soldiers laid all around the place, most of them torn apart or bisected as if some danger beast had been unleashed on them.

"So, you are finally awake"-A voice said behind him.

Before he even turned to face it, something else did it for him.

Arjen stood in disbelief, as his eyes followed the long, white and flat tendril across the whole length of the room, were it had seemingly impaled a young man wearing an old, weathered army uniform in the chest.

The first thing that Arjen realized was that the black-haired man was unfazed by what was, by all accounts, a fatal wound.

The second thing was that the white tendril that had just gave him such wound went all the way back to his position.

The third thing that he realized was that the tendril had come out from within the sleeve of the white coat he was wearing over nothing else.

"What…what is this?"-Arjen asked as he tried to keep his voice and mind from breaking up.

"The question you should ask yourself is "What Am I?"-The man replied.

"I…I don't understand…I…just….I wanted"-Arjen felt himself at a complete loss, when the tendril suddenly rolled back into him.

But instead of disappearing into the sleeve, the tendril stopped before it, and moved itself gently, as its end rose up and revealed an object it held carefully.

Arjen stared at it in disbelief, and after a few moments, grabbed it with his other hand, folded it and carefully placed it inside the jacket, were it disappeared.

"I wanted that back…"-Arjen said with a smile as he looked up at the stranger.

"I know. That's why I was holding it for you, until you fully awakened. Do you want answers?"-The man asked.

Arjen nodded.

"Come with me, and you will have them….and something far more valuable"-The man said as he turned around and began walking away.

"Which would be?"-Arjen asked.

"Purpose….and Paradise"-The man said as he walked out of the room.

Arjen stood for a few moments…and then followed him.

The Present

Arjen checked his face in the mirror for a sixth time, just in case; even if his skills, augmented by Perfector and Malice Medica's abilities, allowed him to perfectly made that face his own, it never hurt to be too careful.

He had to admit, he had grown used to wearing the face of the Doctor; sure, placed it back on and taking it off every few days was now just routine, but he still enjoyed the irony of it.

After Lord Schatten had recruited him to his cause, the first mission he had once he had mastered Malice Medica's abilities was to infiltrate the Rebel Army.

Well, not the first. His first real mission was trying to recruit Bulat to this new cause…but destiny had been cruel to both of them.

Bulat had died at the General's hands, and now some idiot kid wore his Teigu and his name.

They turned him into a killer and that got him killed…and now some bastard dared to wear Incursio as if it was his.

Arjen's blood boiled at the thought of anyone being stupid and naïve enough to mistake that amateur wearing Incursio for Bulat. Whomever he was, he insulted Bulat's memory and legacy with every second he wore Incursio and made a fool of himself.

Finding that the Doctor had defected to it in order to save himself from any reprisals from the Prime Minister was his real first mission, and an enjoyable twist of fate.

Removing the Doctor's face, along with Perfector (the hands inside were just a useless yet pleasant bonus), ended up being far more enjoyable than he thought, and once peace broke out, Arjen had found the perfect role to play as Lord Schatten's spy among the humans.

"Just you wait, Bulat. I'll give you a world worth the price of your death. I promise"- Arjen said as he stepped outside, and got lost among the masses on his way to the palace, just another face in a crowd of thousands.

Next Chapter: More of Ardere's past and the true nature of her "death" are revealed, as Izato makes his choice in order to gain the power needed for his vengeance.