Chapter One: In Which we are Introduced to Agatha and Auldrant

In 2054, the PreCrime Experiment was at its height. Using the visions of three PreCogs to catch criminals before they acted, the PreCrime unit had eliminated crime from the streets of Washington D.C. It was this year, when the PreCrime unit was on the cusp of going national, that the PreCogs predicted that the leader of PreCrime would commit a premeditated murder. He ran. Escaping his comrades, he began a journey that would bring to light much that was unknown.

In 2054, The PreCrime Experiment was shut down, and the three Precogs who had been held captive to provide the visions were released. The three were relocated to an undisclosed location, hidden deep within the country, finally allowed to lead peaceful lives.

Our story begins two years later.

The lake was beautiful today. The wind was making the water's surface ripple just so, and the fall leaves were a multitude of colors scattered on the ground, dancing on the wind. The temperature was at one of those perfect not-to-hot, not-to-cold levels, where one could traipse around in a sweater without fear of freezing to death, and the sun peered demurely down upon the lake as if it was a pure maiden of old.

Agatha had to bite down her natural urge to run. Dashiell and Arthur had somehow convinced her to come down to the lake shore to go fishing, and now here she was. Walking along the shore, Agatha burrowed into her turtleneck, wanting no more than to return to the cottage and continue her reading. This place reminded her too much of her mother, too much, too much… Her head twisted away, as she made up her mind.

"I'm leaving," she called out to the twins as she began to walk away. "I'll see you later." Agatha didn't wait for the twins response. She knew that they knew where they were going, and that she could handle herself in her own way. Her mind vaguely registered their twin cries of goodbye, and her mouth formed a response and vocalized her own.

As she ventured homewards, her mind whirled with thoughts. Of her mother, of the past, of the future… her mind would simply not rest. It had been two years since the Precog experiment had been dismantled, and yet still, still Agatha's mind lingered over that. The woman didn't like it. The more she tried to move on, the more it seemed that her mind lingered…

Agatha's eyes watered and snapped wide open. Involuntarily, she gasped, her body jerking around as the sight of the forest around her faded to show her a bustling city, unlike any city that she had ever scene before.

It was a city built in a large crater set on the sea… air cars were rolling along their lines, transporting the people of the city, along with elevators(Agatha herself thought they looked rather unsafe), and canons guarded by armor-clad men. The men in armor was another odd sight; the only time Agatha had heard about men wearing metal armor was when she read about the knights of old… where was she seeing?

Agatha recognized what was happening. A precognition. Another roll of pain ransacked her body, making her arms and legs contort painfully. She sank to the ground, and let the vision continue to assault her mind. She could do nothing else as her consciousness slipped farther into the vision.

Her sight zoomed in on the highest level of the crater city. It looked much richer than the portions below, and large estates dominated the scene. Her mind's eye flew past the largest castle, a large monstrosity made of brown material… whether the material was stone or metal Agatha was unsure… towards a slightly smaller mansion. The entire building seemed to be built like a square with a hollow center. That was where she was heading… a blonde man and a man with ash brown hair were talking to each other. She caught portions of their conversation.

"…where is he…"

"…Look by ourselves. We can take a ferry to Chesedonia…"

"But where is he?"

"The scan traced the fonon emissions to Tataroo Valley. He's there."

The scene shifted suddenly, to a valley shrouded in night. Near a patch of white flowers, a long red haired teen was unconscious, with a girl hovering over him.

"Luke!"

Agatha watched the scene fade from her mind, taking note of the sea in the background. It was rather pretty. Although… it did look like the lake. That ruined it a bit for her.

Luke and the girl were in a carriage now. They were talking with a third person… Agatha couldn't see who. They were talking about destinations, capitals, a destroyed bridge, somewhere called Engeve, and somewhere called Kaitzur. Where was Engeve? Where was Kaitzur? The woman did not have long to ponder; the scene changed once more.

She was looking over the streets of a desert city. Shops and other buildings of similar ilk were all located here, from the lowliest stall to the flamboyantly ornate mansion at the city's center; people flowed through the streets like a steady river. These things did not catch her attention; the sight of herself walking by and up to the blonde haired man from her earlier vision did. He looked rather busy, as if he was headed somewhere.

'Excuse me, Mr. Cecil?' her double tapped the man on the shoulder. Mr. Cecil must have jumped a foot in the air, and scuttled away faster than a crab. Agatha resisted the urge to snort as she watched her double attempt to get close enough to talk to the man. She only succeeded once she told the man, "I know where your friend Luke is. He's in a place called Engeve. But you have to hurry. He's going to leave there soon and head on to Kaitzur. And he's going to get in trouble." Her double paused as the man goggled at her. "I think I should go with you. I'll be needed before the end."

The scene disappeared without warning, as a bright light engulfed her mind.

"Poor dear… where ever did you find her?" A woman's voice echoed over Agatha. The Precog was slowly starting to come to.

"In the back… she was lying right next to the Ant Lion Man. He was eyeing her… Thought he was going to throw her in that little pit of his," A man's voice this time. What on earth was an Ant Lion Man? And what was she lying on? It definitely was not the forest floor.

"The poor dear! I wonder how she got in such a state… Hank, she's waking up. Go get her some water." Agatha felt whatever she was lying on depress as a weight settled onto the surface. The Precog felt a hand settle on her forehead.

Agatha blearily opened her eyes. A middle aged woman with a kindly face stared down at her. "Good morning dearie. My husband Hank is getting you something to drink… you gave him quite a surprise this morning."

"What?" Agatha croaked out. Her mouth was very dry, and her head was pounding. After effects of the precognition that she recognized. Letting out a small groan, she shifted her weight. With her eyes open, she realized that she was lying on a cot in room with an Arabian theme. Opening her mouth, she forced out a few more words. "Is it now?"

The woman clucked at her. "Don't speak dearie… you were dehydrated when my Hank found you, and you're still not at full health. We tried to get a Seventh Fonist in to come see you, but they were all too busy. You were out for half a day!"

Agatha heard a door open, and her head swiveled to see an older man enter the room with a cup. "Oh, is she up?" The man, Hank, slowly made his way over to the bedside. He seemed like one of those men who would take everything slowly, unless his life was in danger. "Here, I have some water for you. I hope that Faye hasn't been badgering you. She can get rather excited sometimes."

Agatha shook her head while the woman made an outraged noise. "Honestly Hank! I never! Don't you believe a word he says, dearie." She slipped a hand under Agatha's back and helped move her into a sitting position, while Hank handed her a glass. Agatha had to resist the urge to laugh at the married couple's bickering. Hank backed off first, with the explanation that he had to go watch the counter, and an order for her to rest.

Faye watched her husband leave, before turning back to Agatha. "I swear, the man is incorrigible…But I love the silly man anyways." She shook her head, before watching Agatha sip her drink slowly. "That's a dear, drink it all…" Faye beamed happily at the prostrate woman. "So… what's your name, dear?"

Agatha glanced over at the woman. "I'm Agatha," she stated quietly, in between sips of her drink. "Where am I? I'm afraid… I can't quite recall."

The woman let out a soft exclamation. "Oh, you poor dear! You don't remember where you are? This is Chesedonia! The center of trade!"

Poor Agatha was confused even more. Chesedonia? Where was that? She vaguely remembered the term from her last precognition. The two men had mentioned that place… The Precog felt Faye's hand pat her hand gently. "You must have had quite a scare. But don't worry. You're safe for now… we'll have a Scorer come and see what you need to do. Just rest for a bit more dearie…"

Agatha shook her head, and forced herself to swing her legs off the bed. "Have to figure something out." She mumbled, rising unsteadily to her feet and walking to the window. Faye tried to move her back to the bed, but Agatha shrugged her off. Her head popped out of the window, and Agatha calmly took in the scene before her.

This was the desert city. She could see the gayly colored stalls, hear the raucous calls of merchants hawking their wares, feel the desert's oppressive heat press down upon her body… and walking along, Mr. Cecil. Faye pulled Agatha back into the room, scolding her for doing something so reckless.

Agatha pulled out of the woman's grasp. That man from her vision was here. Perhaps he had something that could tell her why she was here… and where here was. "I can't stay."

Faye stopped mid-scold. "What? Why? You're not at full heath. Even I could tell something was wrong with your fon slots…" Her protest slid to a halt when Agatha glanced over at her, a weird look in her eye.

"I have to go speak with this man. To find answers. Do you have supplies that I might borrow? I don't think I'll be able to return right after." Agatha's eerie continence startled the innkeeper in a way. Faye had never quite seen that look on another person, and she had a feeling that she would never see a similar look on anyone but Agatha. It was close to how the Scorers…

It clicked for Faye then. "You're a Scorer? Oh my… forgive me please." Faye bowed in reverence. A Scorer from the Order… in her inn! What an honor. "I'll get you some gels… and there's an outfit you can use in the wardrobe. The one we found you in is being washed right now. Oh, and there's a bangle you can have. Feel free to use whatever you need…" Faye quickly departed the room, off to look for some gels to give her honored guest.

Agatha blinked. A scorer? What's a scorer? And why did she call me one? She shrugged it off. Whatever it was, it worked. Faye was letting her leave. Taking a quick peek out the window, she noticed that the Mr. Cecil had stopped by a stall full of machines. Good. She moved over to the closet and threw open the doors. It was full of odd clothing, in a style Agatha had never seen before. She wasted precious minutes trying to figure out how to put on the clothing. In the end she settled for the simplest outfit she could find. A white shirt and skirt combination, with some faint embroidering. With another peep out the window, she saw that Mr. Cecil was about to start moving on. Agatha let out a sound of displeasure, and left the room.

Faye was waiting for her, Hank by her side. In her arms, a bag dangled. The two had been whispering swiftly to one another, but quickly fell silent when Agatha emerged. "Oh, dear, you look so pretty." Faye walked forward, pressing the bag into Agatha's arms. "I'm afraid this is all we could spare…" Reaching into the bag, Agatha pulled out several cloth covered bundles, and three bottles of a blueish liquid. She looked up questioningly at Faye. "Five apple gels, three orange gels, and some life bottles just in case."

Agatha nodded slowly, slipping the items back into the bag and slung it over her shoulder. "Thank you. I appreciate this."

"Oh, anything for a Scorer," Faye replied, waving it off. "We're just happy to help." Faye smiled at the smaller woman. The smile began to waver as Agatha's eyes seemed to become opaque, as if she was closed off from the world, while her pupils dilated. An uncomfortable feeling settled into the pit of Faye's subject as she looked at the other woman.

Agatha's hands suddenly clenched furiously, and she shook her head violently. "My apologies. See you next week." Without waiting for a reply, Agatha left, moving quickly to reach and exit. Faye and Hank were left staring at her departing back, more than a little unsettled.

The sound of the door shutting broke the silence. Hank snorted, and returned to sit behind the counter of the inn. "Not your normal Scorer, was she?" He commented as he settled into his seat.

Faye was still staring at the door. "No… no she wasn't…" she mumbled, before snapping out of her funk. "Not a normal Scorer at all. Now. I've got rooms to clean. Stay and man the counter dear."

"Yes, dear."

The Auldrant Report

Agatha had to fight to make her way through the crowds. She had only been through a crowd like this once before, when John had taken her. The press of the crowd made her feel very uncomfortable. She picked up her pace. Agatha could see Mr. Cecil's head bobbing ahead of her, maybe twenty feet or so. A part of her wanted to see the continuation of her vision, while the other… the other told her that blindly following this vision was bad. That not all precognitions happened exactly as they were seen. Agatha was at a loss. Mr. Cecil was her only clue for the moment.

She was close now. Close enough to tap his shoulder. It was now or never. Either follow what she had seen, or change it. Reaching out, she gently rested a hand on his shoulder, while her lips vocalized the words that rose. "Excuse me, Mr. Cecil?"

The man wrenched out of her grasp with a jump, skittering back a few feet. "Mr. Cecil…" Agatha advanced a few steps. The man retreated. "Mr. Cecil please…" Agatha extended her hands as a gesture of peace. Mr. Cecil continued his backwards advance. Agatha sighed, and began to speak calmly, staying where she stood. It seemed as thought she would get no farther in this conversation if she kept trying to approach him. The man seemed to back off whenever she attempted to get close to him. "Mr. Cecil. I know where your friend Luke is. He's in a place called Engeve. But you have to hurry. He's going to leave there soon and head on to Kaitzur. And he's going to get in trouble." Agatha was having a bad case of deja vu. That was what she had seen in her vision before. Was this what was truly for the best? Was this the best path she could take?Agatha had nothing else to go on right now. Was that enough justification to follow her vision. Agatha shoved her doubts to the back of her mind. She couldn't deal with them right now.

Mr. Cecil was goggling at her now. Agatha sighed. Might as well see what happened next. "I think I should go with you. I'll be needed before the end." Her eyes coolly assessed Mr. Cecil. He looked rather dumbstruck. Which made sense. A woman who you've never even seen before walks up to you, tells you about your missing friend, and then asks to accompany you. Agatha gave him a minute to overcome the shock.

"I'm sorry," were the first words out of his mouth. "But could you repeat that?" When she stepped closer to explain it again, he backed off once more. Agatha took the hint. He didn't like her approaching him for some odd reason. She calmly repeated what she had told him the first time. He nodded when she finished. "You're a Scorer, aren't you?" he inquired, staring at her. The Precog blinked. That word again. What was so special about Scorers? The woman remained silent. The man chuckled awkwardly after a few minutes. "So… it would be an honor to have a Scorer accompany me."

Agatha smiled slightly. Whatever a Scorer was, it was certainly advantageous to be thought one. "I presume you have transport," she said aloud.

Mr. Cecil nodded. "Yeah, there's a ferry… ack. I'm sorry. I can't help it." Agatha had started to move closer once more. Mr. Cecil had jumped, knocked into a stand, which had hit Agatha. Or it would have, if Agatha hadn't stepped out of the way.

Agatha brushed off her skirt. "It's quite all right, Mr. Cecil. Now let's go catch that ferry. It's going to leave soon." With that said, Agatha began to walk forward.

"Hey! Wait up! Do you even know where you're going?" Mr. Cecil leaped after the woman, making sure to keep his distance.

"Vaguely," Agatha replied, and laughed a little.

The man sighed. What had he gotten himself into?

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Nothing! Agatha belongs to Spielburg, Tales of the Abyss belongs to Namco, and that's the truth.

Author's Note: Ah, the start of another story. I would like to dedicate this fic to the entirety of Sno Phoenix, and Kat in particular, for inspiring me to actually capitalize on my idea. Kat gets another thanks for editing this for me.

Now, this is a cross over between Tales of the Abyss and The Minority Report. I thought it was a rather interesting idea. Both deal with predestination vs. determinism in their own way, and I thought it would be fun to put the two together.

Thank you for reading the chapter, and I do hope you review. I like reviews. Hehehe. Have a nice day!!