General Art Greater Good, Greater Game

[Myriadviper42]

That really WAS the most fun I've had writing this so far because it really got to the good stuff. I'm really enjoying writing this story. Anyone who's read my stories knows that there's probably going to be major twists among the way. I've already hinted a bit that there are going to be twists, and I've also hinted at the themes behind them. If one of you could actually guess correctly what that was...well, I'd REALLY be impressed. With this chapter, we are officially a third through the book!

Chapter 11

I pull out my gun at the figure. He appears to be middle-aged, with a pale complexion and long dark hair. He is wiry and tall, with vibrant gray-blue eyes. He wears a trench coat and has a notebook tucked under his arm. He has a neutral expression on his face, and seems to not care that I just pulled out a gun at him. "Who are you?" I demand, taking an authoritarian tone with him. Daren had taught me how to use your voice in these types of situations in order to make a person back down. If you show weakness, if you show that you're nervous, they know you aren't really all that capable. "Are you with Prophet?"

"No," he says calmly, almost monotonously. "I am not a part of Prophet. However, I know of them and their exploits. It's quite interesting, really...they weren't meant to turn out the way they did."

"What the hell are you talking about?" I ask, gun still pointed at him.

"I was there. When you were blackmailed by Slater. I watched him fight Malcolm, who had been planning to reveal himself to you at that time. And then again, when you had been captured by Enforcer Katherine Davidson."

Something clicks. "You set off the grenade?"

He shrugs. "Irrelevant. What matters is that I was there, and that time you caught a glimpse of me. I thought you would've told someone...but I guess I was mistaken."

My grip falters a bit. "I don't...trust them completely."

"You're going to have to."

"How...how do you know all this? If you're not with Prophet, does that mean you're with Malcolm?"

His lip curls up slightly in an amused smile. "No. It's not always one or the other, Daniel. I came to you because I need you to deliver a message."

"A message? To who?"

I hear running, someone is coming towards us. His eyes meet mine, and I find it hard to meet that luminescent gaze. "Tell Malcolm that Prometheus says hello."

He slips into the shadows and seemingly vanishes. "Daniel!" Adamaris is at the end of the alley. He runs towards me. "Sorry, Gardner got away. I'm glad to see you're alright. Is your brother..." He draws a finger across his throat inquisitively.

I shake my head no. "No. He's not dead. I think he must have fled." Madeline and Daren join us.

"We killed all the Prophet agents in the building except Gardner and your brother," Daren says, out of breath. "I saw him escape into the crowd. He must not have wanted to face you any more. Oh, and, by the way, Elijah Sanford wants to see us. I don't think it's good. We had a lot of casualties...or at least you and Madeline did." He doesn't sound snide about it, just tired and accepting of it. We walk through the streets and see Elijah Sanford standing on a street corner, the wind whipping his hair around.

"We lost a lot of men today," he says calmly, a little too calmly. "But they lost a lot of men as well. I'm not sure how to assess your performance. I'm gonna leave judgment to Malcolm and Astrid. Mission's over. We did some damage. Now you're going back to Headquarters. Understood?"

We all nod glumly. Our second mission wasn't a total failure, but it certainly wasn't a shining success either. When we get back into the car, my mind drifts back to the man in the trench coat. Prometheus. What the hell was his deal? He acted like he knew a lot, but he didn't seem to be associated with Malcolm or Prophet. Maybe Malcolm will have some clue as to what it is. I decide not to tell my teammates. They seem to have a lot on their chest, especially Madeline. She looks paler than normal and still in shock. I guess Gardner bringing back those memories...didn't do her any good. Daren drives, with Madeline in the shotgun seat, leaving Adamaris and I in the back. I decide to ask him something. I lean forward a bit and clear my throat.

"Adamaris...I have a question for you."

His eyes turn to me and he nods, smiling. "Fire away, my friend."

"Gardner said that you dated a Prophet agent. Could you...elaborate? If you want to? If you don't want to I under-"

"No, no, I want to," he says, looking a bit sad. "I probably should have told you before. Back in Spain, I was one of the most successful soccer players in the world. I was popular, I was wealthy, I thought I had it made. I fell in love with a girl and thought she loved me back." He pauses, taking a gulp like he's swallowing down bile. He sounds bitter, more bitter than I've ever heard him. "I was planning to propose to her. Then, she asked to meet a friend of mine, a wealthy and important individual who was a bit of a recluse and only showed himself to close friends. We went to dinner, and then she started hitting on the other guy. I noticed and called her out on this, and we ended up fighting in the poor man's house. She told me to leave, and that she was breaking up with me. I assumed she'd just dated me to get close to the other man. I started drinking, and fell into a low life. I quit sports. One day, a man named Malcolm came into the bar and introduced himself to me. He revealed that the woman who left me had actually abducted the other man after I'd left, that he was some kind of scientist or something. He explained Prophet to me. I was furious that I'd been an unwitting part of it, and I vowed revenge. I still haven't found her."

He looks downward with saddened eyes and I pat him on the shoulder. "You'll find her. I know you will."

He smiles. "Thanks, Dan." We pull up at the office building that is over Headquarters, and we move through the lobby to the elevator. Madeline punches in the elevator door combination, and the elevator goes downwards. It opens at the familiar Headquarters, and I see Malcolm looking at his watch before looking up at us and running over to us. He looks worried and haggard.

"What happened out there, people?" he asks hurriedly.

"We killed all of them, but Byrne and Gardner got away," Daren says calmly, and Malcolm purses his lips a bit.

"That is unfortunate, but not a real problem. I've received a call from someone. He says he wants to meet me."

I perk up a bit at this. "Did he say who?"

"He's a Prophet agent and on his deathbed, he wants to tell me everything that's going on because Trueman down there will only tell me what he wants to. I have a feeling that even if we were to torture him he would still only tell us what he wants to. So this is kind of an important event."

"Oh."

He raises an eyebrow. "Were you expecting someone different, Daniel?"

I clear my throat. "Well...you see...in the alleyway...someone appeared to me. He told me to give you a message."

That gets Malcolm's attention. "Oh? What did he say?"

I breathe in and out once. "He said that...'Prometheus says hello.'"

He looks at me in slight shock. "Prometheus?"

I nod, a bit confused as to his reaction. What's with him? It's like he's seen a ghost. Adamaris, Daren, and Madeline all look around confusedly. Malcolm looks around a bit nervously before responding. "Prometheus...is an enigma. He's related to Prophet somehow but isn't a part of him. He was known as the Note Taker by Prophet. You see...I was...once a part of Prophet, but none of them trusted me because he had told stuff to me, and I could never understand why. That led to me trying to undo Prophet from the inside. I felt as though something was being kept secret from me...and I was determined to find out. I was nearly killed, and swore revenge."

All five of us stand there awkwardly. Malcolm was a part of Prophet? Well, it makes sense now why he seemed to know so much about it! And here I was, thinking he'd betrayed us. So if Malcolm doesn't know who he is, but the other people in Prophet had, then that must mean...I get a moment of realization. "I need to talk to someone," I say, pushing through and running to the elevator. I press down and get off at the prison floor. I run down the hallway and unlock the door to Marcus Trueman's cell. I walk inside and close the door behind me. He sits there, twiddling his thumbs and looking bored.

"Do you have my tea?" he asks casually. I sit down across from him, and I see Malcolm and Adamaris standing outside, not sure what I'm doing. I tilt my head slightly in response.

"I suppose that's a no," he says calmly, suppressing a yawn with his fingertips.

"Who is Prometheus?" I ask calmly.

His eyes meet mine. "The titan who gave fire to man? Greek mythology is a bit of a no-brainer for me. Is history class over yet?"

"You know exactly what I mean," I say threateningly.

He chuckles. "You sound like your brother when you say that. I've watched him interrogate many a prisoner before his incarceration. You probably won't stoop to his methods, though."

"I wouldn't be too sure," I say coldly. "You know exactly who Prometheus is, and you're going to tell me. I'll have you know I've lost any amount of patience or sympathy today. I've learned about how you've ruined two of my friends' lives. So, while you're at it, why were Madeline Black's parents so important that you had to kill them?"

"Will you kill me if I don't answer you? That's what I would do. Always another person you could interrogate. Personally, timor mortis conturbat me. But that's just me."

I look at him in confusion, but he does not elaborate. "Who is Prometheus?" You're going to tell me now, understood?"

He chuckles. "You remind me of myself once. But in the end, Tu fui ego eris."

"Stop speaking in Latin!" I yell at him. "Tell me what I need to know!"

He laughs, and Malcolm enters the room and pulls me out. "That's enough, Daniel. You aren't going to get anything out of him." I'm pulled into the corridor and Malcolm tries to soothe me. "We'll look into the Prometheus matter. Just wait a bit. I understand your impatience and confusion...we just need to wait."

He lets go and I calm down a bit. I head upstairs and I go to my bunk, and close my eyes. I realize that there is time. There is time to take down Prophet. No rush. No rush...I clench my fists. Prophet has ruined so many lives. And now there's a chance to find out why. My mind drifts to the bombs. Prophet had been diffusing them. An entirely out-of-character and odd move for them. Why would they do that? For what reason? Who is Prometheus? What is his place in all this? There are so many questions, there are so few answers. It's extremely frustrating. But in the end, the truth will come out. It has to, that is why it is the truth. I take up my time by looking through Prophet-related files, and see terrible event after terrible event. I find something different from the rest and look curiously at it.

It's a poem, marked as classified.

To Malcolm Waters,

Humble beginnings become corrupt
Prophets rise and fall with the tide
In the end, what will happen will happen
They'll cast you out, set you aside

It wasn't meant to end like this
It wasn't meant to begin
He knows of me and why I am
You're expendable in the end

So heed this warning
An era is dawning
That they won't let you see
I do not speak of
Ifs or mights
I speak of what will be

Prometheus

***

The sharp-dressed man stepped into the hospital waiting room with a confident stride, and immediately went to the desk. "I'm here to visit Mr. Zachary Stone." The desk lady didn't even look up from her work.

"Your name?"

"Slater. Joseph Slater."

"Mr. Slater, do you know Mr. Stone personally?"

"We...work together."

"Alright. You may go to see him." Slater gave her a smile before going through the door. He looked for the room number for some time before finding the correct one. He entered and felt the silenced gun in his pocket. Just in case. He opened the door to see the old man lying on the bed. He started when he saw Slater, but Slater gave him the calm-down sign.

"It's just me. Just checking in on you."

"We all know I'm dead," he croaked. "Cancer has done me in in the end, I suppose...you're not here to tidy up loose ends?"

Slater raised an eyebrow. "Would there be any reason to?"

"N-No..."

Slater smiled like a snake. "Good. We're just here to say hello, and our final goodbyes. You want a glass of water?"

The old man eyed him suspiciously. "Do I? How should I know you didn't poison it?"

Slater moved over to the sink and poured the water in, making a show of doing it with his back turned. He turned back around to the old man and took a huge gulp of it. With his tongue, he removed the pill from in between his teeth and it dissolved into the water. He placed it on the dying man's bedside table. With a trembling hand, he grabbed it and took a drink of it. Slater smiled. "You now officially have...five minutes left."

"I"m not an idiot," the old man snapped. "You kept the pill inside your mouth, right? I've been trained to resist it since I was twenty. It won't do anything to me."

Slater chuckled. "That's where you're wrong, old man. This is new, designed by Theodore Malik himself. It'll kill you and all the nurses will think is that you finally kicked the bucket. Malcolm will be here any minute, right? Well, I'll make sure he gets his. Goodbye for the last time, old friend."

He turned around and started leaving when the old man spoke up. "You've changed a lot, Joseph. I remember when we found you as a pitiful wretch on the street. Left out in the rain, to starve. You were different from the rest, though. You had a spark of ambition. Maybe it was because you'd started out with the high life. You always held the ambitions, and here you are now, twenty years later, a cold-blooded attack dog of Marcus Trueman!"

"Careful, old man, you'll give yourself a heart attack," Slater said acidly. "I have changed-for the better. I have power, I have control."

"Prophet wasn't always about control," the old man said quietly, and then his face started turning blue. "Remember that, Joseph. You weren't always a killer." With that, he breathed his last. Slater looked around, and felt an odd, light-headed feeling inside him, dizzy of sorts. The sky outside was cloudy, and he could hear thunder in the distance. Rain again, again, and again. He hated rain, and he hated this man for bringing back memories of a time of his life he never wanted to revisit again. He straightened his suit, and walked out, taking a last glance at his former mentor before exiting the building. The rain fell on him and he looked upwards towards the sky. He fled. Malcolm rounded the corner and walked into the building, checking in to see Stone. As he rounded the corner and opened the door, his eyes found the cold dead body of one of their only leads who would cooperate, and his face fell.

Outside, Slater felt an unfamiliar emotion in his chest.

He later realized it was sadness.

 

[TatlTails]

Aww... *plays sad song on world's smallest violin* This chapter was kinda sad... Tugged at my heartstrings you did, Myriad. And there was even a few epic bits! Including and especially the introduction of this Prometheus guy. Things are getting really good, dude. Really good!

 

[*M i d n a*]

What is this now, Myriad? Bad guys going soft? lolz Good job, liked it a lot, but I do hope Adamaris gets some payback from that ****ing w*o*e.

 

[Myriadviper42]

After this chapter, you'll definitely see that not ALL the villains are going soft. Seriously, it'd be really interesting to hear some theories. Even and especially the crazy ones. And no, it's not simply so I can snicker quietly to myself that I know what's going to happen...and believe me, I would have never guessed it if I were the reader.

Chapter 12

Theo Malik knelt over the body, a scalpel in his gloved hands. The gloves themselves were stained a reddish, and more disturbingly, lavender color from years of doing his line of work. He'd been sentenced to prison for life for a variety of reasons. While he was inside, he was approached by Joseph Slater, who explained Prophet to him and then broke him out. Malik was happy to lend a hand whenever he felt it was necessary...preferably if the job involved blood. Blood was good. Brain matter was good. Poisons were good, especially the painful kind. A slasher grin manifested on his face as he cut into the skin. The description of what happened next seems to have vanished, possibly because it would induce vomit if explained in full. And it was in the middle of this that Grant Aamor walked into the room to see a completely gruesome sight, and his mouth dropped slightly. And he'd known Malik for years...

"Um...um..." Aamor was struggling to form words in his mouth, and he looked a little green. Malik gave a little tilt of his head, as if to ask what he was talking about.

"What's the matter, Grant? Cat got your tongue?"

Grant stared in blank disbelief. "What...are you doing to that body?"

Malik raised his eyebrows and nodded a bit to himself, as if thinking. In reality, he delighted in unnerving and annoying Aamor after the man had locked him in a room with about ten of Malcolm's men. He'd ended up killing his attackers and Aamor had received no punishment from Marcus. He'd just politely threatened to kill him and hang him on a Christmas tree at their annual Christmas party. That was enough to end his behavior, although it didn't mean the two men didn't harbor a resentment towards each other. Aamor viewed Malik as creepy and with no morality whatsoever, while Malik viewed Aamor as a weakling who thought he was powerful, but could be killed by anyone with the utmost ease and contempt. "Depends. Would you like me to show you?" He started to reach towards the body and Aamor retched.

"NO!...no...I'm good..."

Malik laughed, his laugh high-pitched and a bit demented. Internally, Aamor made a list of things to ask Trueman to do. 1. Don't accept any members with serious mental health problems. Malik, Damien, who would be next? 2. Kill Malik. Sure, he was good at technology and torture, but he was really creeping everybody out. "All right, big britches," Malik said, kicking back. "What are you here for? I assume it wasn't to admire my work, considering from your green tint on your face."

Aamor cleared his throat, concentrating his eyes on Malik and trying not to see the body behind him. "Um...well..." He cleared his throat again, trying to take a more authoritative tone. "I'm here about a device Damien picked up from a bank vault." He placed the circular, pulsing device on the cold slab Malik called a counter. "It should allow us to appear as someone else through holographic technology. It's called the Shade Device."

"I suppose you'd want to hide your ugly face behind technology," Malik said, a deadpan look on his face.

"Shut up you idiot! No, its part of the plan and you know it, Teddy! Just figure out how the damn thing works and copy it! We could use maybe ten of these things to...great effect. So get cracking on it."

"Sure thing, pal. Just...a question for you."

"What?" Aamor groaned exasperatedly.

"What do you think I should do with my next body? I've been thinking about maybe encasing it in molten wax..."

"Okay!" Aamor looked unnerved and terrified. "I've heard enough! I'm leaving now-"

"Or maybe I could put it in someone's bathtub! I'm sure that's what everyone wants to see in their morning shower, all bloody and mangled-"

"Ack! Leave me alone! Excuse me, I need to go vomit!" Aamor fled, and Malik smirked to himself. He picked up the device and examined it, flipping it over. An involuntary eye twitch spasmed in his left eye, and he paid it no attention. He took it apart with ease, not even really paying attention to it. He separated the components and wrote down a list of parts they would need. After this, he stood up and exit the room, leaving the body inside. The walls were dark and steel, with green florescent lighting. Malik's personal lab, built underneath Headquarters. One of his assistants wheeled a freshly dead body on a stretcher to him. "New body in, sir," the assistant said blandly, and then left. Malik smirked to himself. Not all the bodies he dealt with were actually dead.

Malik grabbed hold of the cart and wheeled it over to an inconspicious wall. He pressed his hand on it, and a panel slid open, revealing an elevator. Malik wheeled the trolley onto the elevator. Darkness made him happy. It secluded him, it desensitized him. It was a calming influence on him. The elevator door closed, and the elevator moved down even further. Not even Marcus Trueman knew about what was really going on underneath Malik's lab. The elevator door opened and Malik wheeled the body out of the elevator. A blue light reflected everywhere, and entire lines of bodies in stasis tubes drifted about. Malik put the body off to the side and noticed a red flashing light on one of the terminals in front of a stasis tube. He calmly stepped over to it and viewed the error message.

Subject is resisting procedure. Mental state is deteriorating. Terminate process? Y/N.

Malik leaned over the terminal, the red light illuminating his face and giving his eyes a demonic appearance. He selected yes, and he smiled as the subject started struggling for breath, deprived of his oxygen. His eyes opened and Malik could hear with great clarity his muffled screams as he banged against the glass, trying desperately to get out. Finally, his eyes bulged and his body hung limp, floating, suspended in the hallucinogenic water. He would have to dispose of the body later. Prophet could never know about what he was doing here and now. Over the past year he'd felt that Trueman had been restricting him, not using his talents. He'd never understood why, he was quite useful after all. Then, a moment of clarity had come to him while he rested. Trueman and the others were scared of him. They were scared of what he could do, of what he would do. So they were making sure he wouldn't do it, yes yes.

Therefore, he'd started a secret project of his own, right under their noses. He took nearly dead people and placed them under the influence of a highly experimental and dangerous hallucinogen, where they would be in a constant state of fear and anxiety, focused on breaking them and then molding them to be completely under his control. Brainwashing, pretty much. Then, he'd have all the men he would need to carry out a coup, and fully embrace the dark side Prophet had slowly been edging to since Bartholomew Trueman had vanished. First order of things, he'd kill Aamor, that annoying pain in the ***, him. Yes, yes. He chuckled, and his eye twitched again. He moved away from the computer, blue light reflecting his face, the rest of him in shadow. Just the way he liked it. Oh, he knew he was mad. He'd always been mad, it was all he'd ever been. And it was all he ever would be, yes.

He returned to the dead subject's tube and pressed a button on the terminal. Hiss, hiss, and the body dissolved into the water, becoming nothing. No corpse, no funeral, no family mourning. He watched in morbid fascination as what was once a man like any other become just particles in a bright blue stasis tube. Prophet, in his eyes, was going soft. He didn't remember the early days much, he hadn't been allowed to do much then. If he had, he probably would have realized they'd gotten anything but soft. Now, they'd slowly been turning into something more his style, but it was changing too slow for his liking. And some, like that Hunt lady, were showing signs of weakness. Well, if she ever thought about deserting, she'd make a nice addition, capable and strong. He moved back over to the fresh body and heard the shallow breathing, saw the chest moving up and down, yes. He wheeled the fresh meat over to an empty test tube and dragged him in sloppily, grunting as he did so. With great care he placed the oxygen mask on him. He closed the tube and pressed a button. He watched as water slowly filled up in the tank.

He adjusted the settings, and he watched as powder seeped into the stasis tube along with the water. The fresh meat bobbed up and down helplessly, soon to be experiencing a level of pain and fear beyond human imagining. Malik smiled. Everything, to him, was in its right place.

***

Malcolm doesn't sit us down and brief us this time, this time he seems to be coming with us. He's anxious and worried, from the return of Prometheus into his life and...something else. He won't explain anything, but he's packing weapons, and Astrid's coming with us as well, so I guess this must be important. All I know is that he returned from the Prophet contact distressed beyond all belief. Madeline, Adamaris, Daren, and I wait outside, multiple weapons stowed beneath our ordinary-looking coats, and not sure what's going to happen next. "Any idea what's going on?" I ask my teammates.

"Not sure," Daren says, picking at his fingernails. "No one is. Malcolm should be out any minute now, so just don't pee yourself with anticipation, alright?"

I chuckle easily. Things have been thawing a bit between us, and I'm glad for that. "Sure thing, Daren."

"Glad to see you boys are getting along, but Malcolm's here," Adamaris jokes with a smile on his face. Indeed, Malcolm is pacing right towards us, hair blowing in the wind, with Astrid and another man right behind him. The man is young, with long sandy hair and a grin on his face. He wears a lab coat and looks around like he hasn't been outdoors all that often, and is enjoying everything about it. They arrive next to us and Malcolm clears his throat to speak.

"Glad you guys could make it on such short notice. I've called you in thanks to your leadership skills shown during the incident at the warehouse."

"W-We lost a-all of our m-men!" Madeline says, sounding a bit suspicious. "H-How do y-you c-call that g-good l-leadership?"

"What Malcolm meant," Astrid says, as if talking to a child, "is that you handled yourselves well in the field and can prove to be a very efficient team. Don't question it if you want this. You should enjoy this, especially you, Daniel."

"What do you mean?" I demand.

"Joseph Slater has resurfaced," Malcolm says calmly. "He killed the contact and we have a team tracking him. This here is Adam Goodwin. He's an analyst and a scientist, he's here because he's curious about the behavior of a Prophet agent."

"That's right," he says happily. "I'm just here to observe. Might I say...you guys are pretty cool. I mean, you've all lost so much-"

"Adam," Malcolm said mock exasperatedly,

"-and it's just really cool that you guys have been able to overcome-"

"Adam."

"-I'm sorry, I'm just really excited to be here today out in the field."

He stops talking, pauses, and then grins sheepishly at the rest of us. Malcolm rolls his eyes and then turns to us, murmuring to us quietly while Astrid tries to calm down Adam. "Adam was taken by Prophet as a child, forced to work under Theo Malik. He saw some terrible things. He managed to get through them by having a cheerful attitude all the time. Underneath, he's a scared and desparate child. He likes a lot of my teams, but he likes you guys mainly because you're one of the few who are still young and idealistic like him. You'll find that that kind of attitude gets crushed out of you in this line of work."

The four of us look at each other strangely. We're not really sure what the heck Malcolm means by that, or why he's saying it. "Um, thanks sir for that motivational speech," Daren says blandly. I chuckle a bit, and look towards Adamaris and Madeline, who both have remained silent during this exchange. They look uncomfortable, as am I. Malcolm is off. That much is clear, and I'm not sure what's up with him. It's not just that the Prophet contact was killed by Slater. Something bigger is going on here. Possibly...something to do with that Prometheus fellow.

"Sir...does this have to do with Prometheus?"

"Prometheus is not the issue right now," he snaps, getting into the car. "We need to take care of Slater, once and for all, understood? No distractions, got it?"

We look at each other, confused, and don't say anything. Astrid and Adam get into Malcolm's car, while we take our usual car. I drive this time, and this time the ride is dotted with conversation, unlike our previous awkward trips. Although the conversations are strange in themselves, it's a start. "What do you think's going on with Malcolm?" I ask the others, hands firmly gripping the wheel. "He seems...really off."

"He started acting like that after you mentioned Prometheus, but now it's been taken up to eleven," Adamaris says absentmindedly, picking at his fingernails in the shotgun seat.

"Might just be stress," Daren says bluntly from in the back. "He's in charge of an organization facing some of the most deadly people in the world."

"I-I think i-it m-might have s-something to d-do w-with both the v-visit t-to the c-contact and th-the Pr-prometheus thing," Madeline adds.

"Don't worry about it for now," Adamaris comments soothingly. "I'll talk to him about it. Daren, you'd probably offend him. Daniel, you don't have the experience to know how to deal with him. And Madi, sorry, you probably couldn't handle talking to him about it."

"I u-understand."

"Good. Let's just follow Malcolm's car to wherever we're going. Then we'll deal with it."

It's silent for the remainder of the trip. I notice Malcolm's car turning into a parking lot. An office building towers above it. Next to it is a parking garage, but Malcolm takes us into the regular parking lot. I read the sign. AlTech Industries. "AlTech Industries is a part of Prophet, but not everyone inside is one of their agents. Some of them are innocent, but you should still always be on your guard," Malcolm says, getting out of his car. Astrid and Adam get out. I open my door and look up at the building. For years, AlTech had just been a company to me. Now that I know it's part of Prophet it just seems...strange. Odd. The seven of us head inside, and my eyes take in the sleek and modern lobby, windows pouring in golden light. It's frankly quite beautiful and oddly relaxing. People talk on their phones while running to appointments, meetings, the like, and it almost feels like a normal day at the office for me. Except some of these people are probably capable of killing me within the blink of an eye.

Malcolm leads us up to the reception desk. The dude sitting behind the desk just looks up at us with a blank look on his face. "Can I help you?" he drawls.

"FBI. I'm agent Reginald Adams. We wish to speak with Joseph Slater."

The man quirks an unimpressed eyebrow. "Has he done something...illegal?"

"Yes," Malcolm says simply, a little bemused.

The man rolls his eyes and points towards the elevator with his pen. "Floor seven. Room 713."

Malcolm gives his appreciation to him and we walk over to the elevator. "Don't you think that was a little...too easy?" I murmur to Adamaris and Madeline.

"I dunno. This place kind of puts me on edge...mainly because it doesn't seem like we should be on edge," Adamaris murmurs back, and Madeline nods in agreement, looking a little confused. We all step into the elevator when suddenly we see a man rushing towards the elevator.

"Wait! Wait!" Although Malcolm and Astrid furrow their eyes at him in suspicion, Adam holds the button to let the man on. He stumbles into the elevator, breathing heavily. He's short, and very thin and pale. He wears a tuxedo and has a lot of stubble on his face. "Thank you...late for a meeting...couldn't afford to miss the elevator..." He presses the number 9, and the elevator starts moving up.

"Hey, what's your name?" Daren asks faux-casually.

"Ernest. Ernest River. I work here, I was gonna be presenting something about five minutes ago...traffic was terrible, and I ended up missing it."

I can see Malcolm gripping his gun, eyes still furrowed in suspicion. Adam shows no such suspicion, and claps him on the back. "Don't worry, I'm sure you'll be fine, after all, they probably won't fire you for-" Suddenly, Adam is hoisted over River's shoulder and he's smashed into the ground, and immediately six guns are pointed at Ernest. He raises his hands up in the air in surrender, an amused look on his face. Adam groans on the floor, and Ernest brushes some invisible dust off himself.

"Well, you've caught me. Seriously, I don't see why you let me in. You knew it would end badly."

"Some of us have too much of a bleeding heart, it seems," Daren snarks, tilting his head towards Adam.

"Not very smart, trying to take us one on seven," Astrid says coldly, and then she's surprised when the rest of us groan. "What?"

"Oh, why'd you just say that, Astrid?" Adamaris groans, touching his palm to his forehead. Ding. The elevator door opens and about ten guns are pointed at us. Ernest smirks, and pushes Malcolm roughly, chuckling.

"Put your guns down on the ground now, please. Mr. Slater will see you soon." He shuffles his collar and I catch a glimpse of something on the back of his neck before it disappears under his tuxedo. We drop our guns to the ground, and Adam slowly gets up, wobbling a bit. We put our hands in the air and they lead us through the sleek hallway, and he opens a door. The room is well-lit and sleek. A huge bookshelf lines one wall and a window takes up the entirety of another. Everything is neat and orderly but also feels lived in, like someone actually works here. Slater stands with his back to us, looking out the window while touching his hand on the glass. "Mr. Slater! We've got a present for you!" Ernest says cheerfully, and Slater turns around and walks towards us. He looks the same as I last remember him, oily and smarmy, and his eyes look over each and every one of us before resting on me. He breaks out into a grin at seeing me.

"So good to see you, Mr. Byrne. I was hoping we'd meet again."

I growl at him, and I feel cold metal pressed against my back. Ernest walks up in front of us and starts pacing casually, whistling. "I was too, Slater."

"Good. Wow, Malcolm. Seven guys. You brought a grand total of seven men...to take on me. Now is that arrogance, or is that arrogance? I'm not sure which one." He chuckles.

"Actually," Adam begins, still not totally comprehending the danger we're in, "the odds are that Malcolm would probably would not have come with just himself and six other men. Actually five other men, I'm just an analyst. However, I was not informed of another force, so therefore-" There's a click of a gun, and Slater points a pistol at Adam's face.

"I think I'll start with the annoying one," he says matter-of-factly. "Then I'll kill off the rest of you-except for you Malcolm. It's obvious one lesson wasn't enough to teach you not to defy us. I guess we'll just have to allow it to...sink in." He's about to fire when suddenly Malcolm cries out.

"Wait!"

Slater raises an eyebrow. "Oh, let me guess. You're going to beg to save your friends' lives. That would be fantastic."

Malcolm smiles coldly at him. "No. Look behind you." Slater looks confused, and looks behind him, stepping forward towards the window. What? Slater is smarter than this! He wouldn't be stupid enough to do what he says! He's about to turn around to ask Malcolm quizzically what the hell's going on when suddenly the glass shatters and Slater falls to the floor. Snipers. Hell breaks loose, and I dive behind a desk as one of the goons shoots gunfire at me. I fire back a few shots before finding new cover, and I see Slater's dead body, bleeding from the head. I roll him over on his back to see a circular device on the back of his neck. I remove it and there's a blue flicker. Slater shortens and thins and in his place is the man who came into the elevator. Ernest River. Powerful hands grab me and another Ernest River holds me up in the air by the throat. He reaches around to the back of his neck and removes the device. He becomes taller and a bit thicker, and there's a smug smile on his face. Joseph Slater.

"Did you really think I'd be dispatched that easily?" he sneers, tightening his grip. "River was such a tool." He jerks his hand back when another sniper shot is fired, and he shoots at me several times before I duck for cover again behind his computer. I see Daren and Madeline shooting at some of the goons, and they both manage to take down three or four of them. Astrid stabs one in the throat before kicking him into another one of his colleagues before she shoots him in the head. Adamaris is driven back by a particularly big one before a sniper shot distracts him enough for Adamaris to slip out and shoot him in the back of the head. Adam just cowers wherever he can, saying something about how he doesn't want to die. And then there's Malcolm. Malcolm kicks a swivel chair at one of them before flipping into the air behind him before breaking his neck. He then kicks the same chair at another one, delivered at such force that it knocks him to the ground. A quick draw of his gun and a bang, and he's dead.

Slater turns the corner and we both fire, narrowly missing each other. I manage to get close enough to wrench his gun out of his hands, and he spin kicks me in the face, sending my gun flying out the window. I stagger backwards, a metallic taste in my mouth, and I duck his next punch before ramming him with my entire body, crashing him into the wall. He pulls out a knife and I manage to grab his wrist before he can gut me. We struggle, and my grip is slipping, and I drop. He staggers forward with no resistance to his force. I kick him in the back, sending him crashing to the floor. He grabs his gun and shoots both circular devices in quick succession, causing minor electrical explosions, distracting me long enough for him to escape. He runs across the room, firing back at the people inside. The last remaining brute raises a shotgun at me before there's a bang and he's sent crashing to the floor. Daren and Adamaris both stand there with their guns raised and smoking, looking at bit confused as to which one actually shot him. Maybe it was both.

"Split up and search the building!" Malcolm orders, and we disperse into the hallways. Malcolm stays in Slater's office, looking at something on his computer. I rush off, following Astrid as best I can but I manage to lose her, and I walk around, without a gun. I pull out a pocket knife. It might not be much, but I should be able to defend myself with it until I can find one of the others. I glance around uncertainly. Things seem quiet. Too quiet. There must have been some civilians on this level, right? Perhaps not. As I'm walking down the hallway, the door to a broom closet opens and Slater stands right behind it.

"Boo."

He fires, and a dart sinks itself into my arm. I fall over, and a single thought crosses my mind as my vision blurs. Why do I keep getting knocked unconscious every single time I go on a mission?

 

[TatlTails]

...Welp. ****'s gone down.

 

[*M i d n a*]

This was entertaining, as usual, with bullets flying in the end and fights breaking out. Awesome! But, what is that crazy Theo guy doing, though, I do ask myself. Looks like he's got his own evil plans. :nod: And well, I don't have many theories, but I am guessing that some of those prophet agents might change sides in the end, or vice versa. Regardless, keep it up, Viper, story is going along great. :yes:

 

[Myriadviper42]

Short chapter, mainly setting up the next two.

Chapter 13

Quiet. It's quiet. That is the first thing that I notice. My eyes are closed, and it is quiet and peaceful, with a comfy bed and sheets. Something faint stirs in my stomach, a feeling that something is wrong, but I cannot put my finger on it. Maybe it was just a dream. Yes, it was just all a bad dream. Something to do with guns...and my daughter's life in danger. Well, I'm glad it's over, at any rate. I look around a bit. Same old comfortable room. I look around, and glance down at my leg. It's normal. Wait...why would the fact that my leg's normal sound these alarm bells in my head? My leg's always been normal. I try to calm myself. I'm overreacting, it was all just a dream. What was it, again? I search my mind, trying to remember what had happened...I've got nothing. I shrug.

The door opens, and I start in surprise at the suddenness of it. I sigh in relief as I realize it's just my wife, Sarah. She grins as she sees me. "Hey, honey," she says, climbing into bed. A nagging feeling tugs at the corner of my mind. Something isn't right. "You had some bad dreams last night," she says, a comforting smile on her face. "I think you had some trouble at work."

"Ah, I understand," I say, stretching. "I don't remember much about last night, only that it was...a bit unsettling. I think I dreamed that Elisa was in danger."

She chuckles. "All parents have nightmares about losing their children," she says, moving a bit closer to me. "That's normal. I couldn't ever bear to lose Elisa, you know that." She kisses me on the lips.

Something about the dream becomes clear to me, moves into focus, and my heartbeat starts accelerating. "You're not real," I murmur, and she raises her eyebrows inquisitively.

"Of course I'm real," she says soothingly. "You just had a bad dream, that's all."

I get out of bed, realization and horror slowly dawning on me. "Joseph Slater. He blackmailed me into finding the location of...of a device that could melt things..."

"Honey, are you okay?" she asks, sounding genuinely concerned.

"No, no I'm not," I snap at her. "You're not real. My wife left me nine years ago after I got my leg blown off in Sudan. You left me with our newborn daughter. You never even were a mother to Elisa. Joseph Slater...he was part of an organization...what was it? What was it?" I nearly yell at her.

"Honey, calm down," she says, sounding scared. "If you're not feeling well I understand-"

"No! You aren't real! Prophet, that was it! Prophet ruined hundreds and maybe thousands of lives! I was part of an organization trying to...stop them! Revenge!"

"Honey, do I need to call an ambulance?" she says, raising her voice, sounding terrified.

"No...no need," I respond, quieter than I was. "We were...finding Slater...he tranquilized me. You aren't real! None of this is real!" I get out of the bed, a bit crazed, and I open the door into the hallway. Sarah runs after me and I run into the living room to see Damien in the living room. On the floor next to him is my daughter, bleeding from the head. I stand there in shock, not sure what the hell is going on. I turn back to see my wife behind me, a concerned look still on her face.

"Hello, Danny," Damien says calmly, and raises his gun and fires. My wife falls over, clutching her chest, and I scream, rushing towards her side. She bleeds out, unable to say a word. I turn back towards my brother, and he just stands there with that smile still on his face. He raises the gun at me, and before he fires the living room disappears around me, replaced by a dark color of nothingness, like I'm standing in the midst of nothing. The color looks like what it does when one's eyes are closed, just an imprint of what's really going on. I step forward and I smash into an invisible wall, and I run my hands up and down it in horror. My brother is gone, the bodies are gone, everything is gone. I wander around the nothingness aimlessly, and every time I think I've found a way to escape, an invisible wall blocks my path. Eventually, I just sit down. If I don't do anything at all, eventually, something will have to happen.

There's a keening, whining whistle in my head, and pain starts seeping into my temples. Short burst of pain and I scream out, stumbling upwards. A voice resonates around the arena of dark and misshapen colors. "We could have done this the easy way, Mr. Byrne. The pain will continue until you tell us everything you know, or your mind is destroyed completely. Your choice." The voice is monotonous and clinical, and I get up, stumbling around. The walls become visible to my eye and I now see that it is a maze. I turn through the corner easily and attempt to navigate through it. But no matter what I try, I never seem to go anywhere. My lip trembles, and I look up at the dark and misshapen void that can't be compared to the sky.

"What the hell do you people want? Malcolm's location? All we know? I know nothing! You can't do anything to me!"

"I wouldn't be too sure about that. At the center of the maze is a switch. The switch will wake you up. Find it, and we can discuss things a bit more...normally."

"Like hell!" I shout up at the sky, and continue moving. I feel the walls, looking for grooves. Eventually, I manage to climb my way up to the top of the wall, and start walking on it. A low humming sound is my only company, and I slip, nearly falling off the wall and splattering to the ground below. This isn't real. They must have me under some kind of hallucinogen. I find my way to a closed-off area in the center of the maze. Inside the supposedly inaccessible room is the switch. I jump down, pain shooting through me as I stumble and twist my ankle. How can I feel pain here? I move towards the lever and pull it. Suddenly, a ceiling materializes above me and it turns transparent. The square glass room now hovers over the maze, and I look upwards.

"Really? This is what you're going to put me through? Couldn't you just torture me the normal way?"

"This is much more entertaining. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Theo Malik."

I growl. "You're a Prophet scientist. So what the hell are you doing? Trapping me in glass boxes and trying to break me psychologically?"

"Pretty much. Tell me, Mr. Byrne. Do you really think your friends are going to come and rescue you? They're not, heh heh. They have no idea where you are. They will never find you. You put far too much trust into them, and paid the price. Your morality has destroyed you. Prophet has no morals anymore. We are omnipotent, all-present, all seeing, yes. And I will not stop until you tell me everything you know. Let's see how you handle isolation, Byrne. Good-bye for now."

"Wait-" Malik's voice is gone, and I'm left to my own devices in the box. I sit down, trying to relax, but everything is cold and uncomfortable, no matter what I do. I try to think of a way out of this, to no avail. I bang on the glass, trying to escape, but nothing happens. I sit down, lip trembling and eyes tired. I wrap my arms around my legs like I did when I was scared as a child. There is no way out. There is no escape. For a while, I try to think things through rationally, but the isolation is getting to me. More and more and more desperate as time goes on. It could be seconds, minutes, days, maybe even years. It is forever, and I will remain trapped within it forever. I scream to myself, but no one can hear. Like a madman, I punch the glass time and time again, succeeding in doing nothing but hurting my knuckles. I breathe heavily, and fall over. I cannot fall asleep, no matter how hard I try. There is no way out. There is no escape. My friends are not coming to help me. They have abandoned me to die like the weakling I am. I do not tell Malik anything. I cannot, and therefore, the silence continues.

No matter how much I try to think things through, the animal inside screams and kicks, tired of it all. There is no response from Malik, and on occasion I see images, images of my wife, of my daughter, Damien, Slater, my current friends, imprinted on the glass. Then they are gone, and I am alone once again. The desperation is sinking in, the isolation has already sunk in. I know that soon, if nobody does anything, I will be gone for good. Jumped off the deep end, drowned, just like my brother. In the end, it will be every man for himself, and they have deserted me. Still Malik remains silent, and I do not tell him anything. I do not even know if I remember anything about Malcolm's group. In the end, I slump on the floor in a heap, eyes staring lifelessly ahead of me. My finger twitches, but I pay it no attention. Malik has me under his thumb, and I can't do anything about it.

I am alone.

***

Malik leaned over the terminal, growling. "Dammit," he spat. The warehouse was a far cry from his usual lab, but he couldn't allow anyone to see his Hallucinogen project. He'd given Aamor the impression that this was an experiment, a first-time thing. Therefore, he couldn't use Byrne in his regular lab. Aamor would kill him for treason if he found out Malik was raising an army of brainwashed near-dead people to take control over Prophet. Therefore, the warehouse was less than ideal, but it would work. Byrne had been proving quite resistant, having spent two virtual months with the hallucinogen inside him. It had only been two days in the real world. He still hadn't given up any information despite the fact that isolation could literally drive him insane. If the hallucinogen remained in his system for much longer without any activity from him, Byrne would die.

"How is he?" Damien Byrne stepped up behind him and Malik looked down at the monitor.

"He's given up. He's not even trying to fight anymore, and yet he still won't tell us anything. It's incredible, really."

"I wish we had truth serum," Damien stated calmly. "That would make things a whole lot easier."

"Unfortunately, we don't," Malik snapped. "So sorry about that."

Damien shrugged. "Doesn't matter. All that matters is that my brother will soon either be dead or out of his mind."

"And this concerns you?" Malik stated with an amused expression.

Damien laughed. "No."

***

"It's been two days and we still haven't managed to find out a single damn thing about where Daniel is!" Malcolm exclaimed, slamming his hand on the table.

"Okay, from now on, never split up, ever," Daren said calmly, although his face looked worried and haggard.

"Not helping, Daren," Adamaris chastised him. "We've interrogated Trueman, tried to find any Prophet facility Daniel could be in, and we've found nothing." The entirety of Daniel's team, Malcolm, and Elijah Sanford sat at a table, working furiously to find Daniel. It had been two days since Daniel had been abducted right under their very noses during the mission to the AlTech Industries building. They'd tried to find Slater but he'd vanished, and they were now a man down. And Malcolm didn't like having a man down. If a single operative of his was in trouble, he would do anything to save them. And Daniel had proven useful before being captured. Malcolm liked the man. He wasn't about to let him get tortured by Prophet for nothing.

"We could interrogate Trueman again," Elijah Sanford said, crossing his arms. "Then again, he's only told us what he wants to tell us, so who knows? It's worth a shot."

"B-but we tr-tried that a-already," Madeline protested.

"Anyone have any better ideas?" Malcolm asked. No one responded. Madeline drummed her fingers on the table nervously, while Daren sniffed, trying to look like he didn't care but failing. Adamaris sighed sadly, and Sanford looked at them all gravely.

"We'll try it," he said, "but if we can't get anything out of him...I'm not sure what we're going to do. Malcolm and I will handle the interrogation. You stay here."

Malcolm and Elijah stood up and walked outside, walking into the elevator without a word. They said nothing to each other on the way down, both obviously worried about the turn of events. Ding, and the door opened. The two men walked grimly down the prison hallway and opened the door to Trueman's cell. Trueman's eyes found them and he just looked at them with a deadpan expression on his face. "Seriously. How many times do you have to interrogate me?"

"As many as necessary," Malcolm hissed.

"Scio," Trueman said calmly. "but you really have no leverage against me. I am the one in control here. You want to see your friend again. I respect that. But I do not know what they have done with him, or where he might be. I do not know what all my subordinates are doing every hour of the day, especially when I'm in a prison cell."

"You chose to be here," Sanford said incredulously. "And I don't understand why. You are here because you choose to be, and yet you have provided us with nothing substantial. You make no sense."

Trueman mulled this over for a bit before responding. "Malik might possibly be torturing him. He likes doing special occasions in warehouses for some reason. Never understood that man one bit. Also never understood the whole warehouse thing with us quote 'villains.' There. Get cracking. But I want some tea. I never got any tea."

Malcolm and Elijah looked at each other quizzically. "Fine. We'll...get you some tea," Malcolm said. "Elijah, put out a search for Prophet agent Theo Malik and if he was sighted on any security cameras. Contact Quinn and get that done."

"Understood, sir."

Sanford left the room, and Trueman and Malcolm made eye contact. "If this is a trap..." Malcolm drew a finger across his throat.

Trueman chuckled. "I know you won't, Malcolm. I know you won't."

Malcolm left the room, and entered his office. He picked up the cane Trueman had used in the federal building. He walked down to the training area, contemplating Daniel's fate. He twisted the ring to the correct setting and then pulled the trigger. The end of the cane burst with electricity, and he began to attack the training dummy, shocking and burning, slicing and hacking it to bits. He imagined it was Trueman, with his smug overtones and his confidence in his invulnerability. Malcolm would have loved nothing more than to shock him into submission, but he knew that then he would only be stooping down to Prophet's level. Malcolm stabbed the dummy in the chest with the cane, and the entire thing sparked with electricity. Malcolm turned off the electricity and then leaned on the cane, sighing. He didn't want to see Daniel dead. However, he knew that the longer he stalled, the longer he delayed looking for him, the more likely he would be dead. He could see a few floors above that the rest of Daniel's team was working hard, talking to each other about it.

Malcolm walked away. Leader or not, he would personally ensure that Daniel Byrne returned to Headquarters safe.

 

[TatlTails]

DON'T GIVE IN, DANGIT! *slams hand on a table* DON'T YOU DARE TELL THOSE BLEEPS ANYTHING, DANIEL! YOU CAN MAKE IT, DANGIT! YOU CAN SURVIVE THIS! DON'T. GIVE. IN!!!

 

[Myriadviper42]

Apologies for the lack of updates, I decided to take a bit of a break. Not sure how often I'll be posting stuff.

Chapter 14

It's felt like an eternity since I was on the outside of this box when the glass breaks. It's so sudden, so unexpected that I scream as wind whips past my ears as I fall into nothingness. It's been so long since anything has happened, I thought I would just rot for eternity. I don't know if I'm entirely sane, not at all, no. I scream as I fall into shrouded darkness, endlessly feeling the terror of a freefall, and that any moment I might splat onto the ground. I don't. It just seems to suddenly...end. Not a sudden stop, it's like suddenly I'm just standing. I stumble around, coughing violently. Shadows around me swirl, and it spirals into a humanoid form. A man. He is Arabic, with a slasher smile on his face, and a large nose and beady eyes.

"I got tired of waiting," he declares, his voice buzzing inside my eardrums and bouncing off the inside of my brain, making me dizzy.

"Who...who are...you..." I groan, stumbling down to the ground, coughing.

"The man who is going to kill you if you don't tell me everything we need to know," he says calmly, raising his eyebrows. "My name is Theo Malik. I told you that three days ago. Of course, to you that's an eternity, so no wonder you forgot."

"The...scientist..."

"Correct, Mr. Byrne. You are currently under the influence of a powerful hallucinogen. It will kill you if it remains in your system for too long. Or I could just cut off your oxygen right now. Do you really want to die now, Mr. Byrne?"

I cough feebly, arms shaking. I do not feel malnourished, but there is a pain in my throat, longing for water. If this is all in my head, why do I feel this thirst inside me? I stand up, legs ready to give out but I force it to keep up. "Not...to you...sadist..."

"Sadist? Well, I suppose so. I'll admit, I'm rather enjoying watching you squirm. You will tell us everything you know in the end, Daniel. Honestly, I don't know how you've managed to hold out this long against the hallucinogen. Would've thought your mind would be mush by now. How much longer can you take it?"

I raise my fist and scream, energy coursing through me as I punch him in the face. My fist hits thin air, and Malik vanishes, and the shadows stream towards me, and agony begins, agony I have never felt before, not even when my leg was blown off. The shadows latch onto me like leeches, and I scream at the top of my lungs, voice hoarse. I fall to the ground as the shadows consume me, eating me whole, but I do not die. I want it to end, I want it to end, I WANT IT TO END! I scream again, but now it is a nightmare, I cannot scream no matter how much I want to, no no no no no no no no no no no...

Do you believe? As I believe? You earned your reprieve, but mine is not. What the hell? My mind is scrambled, the bugs eat away at my brain, I'll fight the good fight against these monsters, but in the end I will die, no no no. I scream again, agonizing screams, gurgled, splattered. My mind is turning to mush, I know it, so why can I still feel? My thoughts jumble together, a face forms in my mind. Malik laughs, vibrating my skull and body. The shadows take me down, there is no way to keep my body down tonight, no no no. It will rot like my mind in the sewers. A hand tries to focus, get me out of here, keep my sanity intact. But there is nothing, nothing at all. Will I become them? Will I become a prophet?

Slater stands over me, smirking, Damien laughs, no. Malcolm looks at me with a disdainful eye, as if disappointed of me. Cackling in the distance, not sure if that's real or not, this isn't good. What happened? Why am I being tortured like this. Eat away at flesh, is this what Damien felt like all those years? Have I gone off the deep end? This can't be happening, no. My friends have left me. I preferred the glass box, it was quiet, and this is agony, and no one is helping me. No no no no no no no no...This can't be happening, where are they where are they where are we where am I why can't I get the hell out of here WHY IS NOBODY HELPING ME?

***

"Found something!"

Adamaris's voice rang out, and soon enough Malcolm, Daren, and Madeline were all rushing over to him. "What'd you find, mate?"

"Theo Malik was spotted on a security camera in Brooklyn. He's not even trying to hide, so it's probably a trap."

"We can deal with a trap," Daren said confidently.

"N-Not t-to be a d-downer here, b-but we h-haven't had a r-really s-successful mission y-yet," Madeline said, tapping her middle finger and thumb together nervously.

"Well, this time, Daniel's life is on the line. I've met Malik personally. I have a feeling that Daniel isn't exactly having a fun time right now, so we NEED to get there now!" Malcolm exclaimed, loading a shotgun and a sub-machine gun.

"No need to tell me twice," Adamaris said, loading his weapons. "I have Malik's last known location on the GPS. We can head there and look around for him, warehouses and the like. We need to get there fast."

"What are we doing standin' around here, then?" Daren asked indignantly. Malcolm, Adamaris, Daren, Madeline, and Astrid piled into two, sleek-looking cars, revving the engine and quickly getting the hell out of Headquarters. Adamaris sighed, closing his eyes. He didn't want to think about the condition Daniel could be in when they found him. If they found him, but he couldn't afford to think about that. What mattered was that they needed to stay positive. No negative thoughts could enter his mind, or else they would turn into reality. The car ride was quiet, no one talking. Everyone was tense, and remained so until they arrived at the destination. They got out of the car, sun glaring in their face on an oddly warm and sunny day for the season.

"All right, then," Malcolm muttered quietly, "let's take a look around for any evil-looking warehouses, shall we?" He attempted a smile, but it quickly fell back down. The six began searching, the city bustling around them. For about half an hour, nothing happened. No one managed to find anything. It changed when Daren ran across a suspicious-looking individual opening a door to one of the warehouses. He called it in, and the rest of the team prepared themselves to attack. Guns were raised, and Astrid kicked down the door. They moved in, their weapons at the ready. "Stick together," Malcolm said faux-calmly, "The last time we split up we lost Daniel."

They all had to agree on that. They hung close together, moving through the dimly lit halls, and suddenly a gun fired, and Adamaris cried out in pain as he dropped to the floor. "No!" Daren yelled, and then knelt down near him. The wound wasn't serious, but it had hit Adamaris in the leg. Malcolm raised his gun and fired at the attacker, whose form was not visible in the darkened halls. "One of you stay here with him, make sure he doesn't die," Malcolm commanded, after the shot had missed.

"No," Adamaris groaned, "No, I can get out of here pretty easily. I'll wait in the car. The rest of you need to stay together, got it? I don't want to lose another companion." Malcolm nodded, and Madeline and Daren helped carry Adamaris out.

"He's pretty selfless, don't you think?" Malcolm mused to Astrid. She shrugged.

"If you're too selfless, you lose all reliability in combat. Can't have him taking a bullet for someone else just because."

Daren and Madeline returned, and the group moved on. The room they entered was large and musty, with various old misplaced items, like crates and the lot. Suddenly, another shot was fired, which Astrid barely dodged in time. "Find cover!" she yelled out, and everyone ducked behind anything they could find. The lights came on, and Malcolm looked up to see the shooter, a large, burly man holding a sub-automatic rifle in his hands. He raised it and started firing at anyone who tried to get up, and Malcolm cursed silently as he realized that they were pinned down by this one man.

"Did you honestly think you could just waltz in here and take your friend back?" the burly man said, his voice booming and deep.

"Maybe!" Malcolm cried out in a singsong voice, a smirk on his face. A click, and Malcolm reacted with lightning speed as the grenade moved past him and exploded, fortunately far away enough from anyone to harm them. Daren quickly stood up and fired, catching the big man in his arm, but his moment of confusion submerged, and he was back to being a totally generic ruthless killer. Malcolm vaguely recognized him from the files. Brian Charleston, former military man turned Prophet agent. A good man once, however was corrupted by Prophet like so many others. Charleston turned towards Daren, who rolled forward before coming up to his feet with his gun in his hands. He was a split second away from being dead when he fired, hitting Charleston in the chest. Another shot, and he was down on the ground, red flowing from his heart.

They heard voices moving towards them, and three more men appeared, and the true gunfight began. Madeline quickly shot a few rounds at the newcomers before dropping down. None of the shots found their mark, however, she didn't die, so that was a plus. Daren growled, eyebrows furrowed in intense concentration. He ducked to one side, being the most exposed after taking down Charleston. Astrid took out one of them with her pistol, but wasn't fast enough to avoid getting shot by another one of them. She yelled out in pain, clutching her arm. She quickly bandaged it and probably would have continued firing at them if Malcolm hadn't motioned for her to stand down. Daren yelled, standing up and firing his rounds. Both men fired back at him, and Madeline quickly took two shots, bang, bang, and both of them went down.

"Astrid, do you need to stay?" Malcolm asked with an unusual caring inflection to his tone.

She rolled her eyes. "No. I'm fine. I can handle myself, thank you. It was just the arm. I can still fight."

Daren cleared his throat. "On a timetable here, so hurry it up. You'll have plenty of time back at Headquarters."

Malcolm raised an incredulous eyebrow, which looked quite the oddity with his mustache. "Are you implying something, Daren?"

"Maybe, but that's besides the point, we need to find Daniel," Daren replied indignantly.

"S-So you h-have w-warmed up t-to him," Madeline said, smiling.

"Shut up. We're not here to talk about our feelings, we're here to save our teammate. So cut the goddamn chatter!" Daren stalked off, gun in his hands, and Madeline followed. Malcolm took after them, and Astrid just simply rolled her eyes. She never really understood why Malcolm was still in charge of the operations. Or even why they hadn't been stamped out a long time ago. The remaining three moved through the hallways. Malcolm quickly dispatched a would-be assailant in a closet, waiting to jump out at them at the right time. Eventually, they found the largest room in the building. An aqua blue light reflected off the ceiling and walls, and the rest of it was submerged in shadow. The source of the strange light? Two stasis tubes. And as they moved closer and closer, quietly and cautiously, they could see that it contained two people that they knew very well.

One contained a comatose Daniel. The other contained a man in his late twenties, tanned and athletic, but with an odd face with bulging eyes. The strange face was usually lit up with joy and happiness, so one could usually look past his physical oddities and see him for the person he was. He also happened to be the person Daniel had replaced. Tony. As they stood there in shock, a figure stepped out of the darkness, illuminated by the strange blue light coming from the tubes. They all raised their guns as they saw Theo Malik. Some had met him before, some had only seen him in the files. His hair hung in strands in his face and he clicked his gun at one of the tanks.

"Drop your weapons, or one of your closest friends will die," Malik said scathingly, a sinister smile flickering across his face in that strange, uneasy blue light.

 

[TatlTails]

OMG THEY HAVE TONY TOO?! WHAT THE HECK MAN DUDES THESE DUDES BETTER WIN OR I'LL... I'LL... DO, SOMETHING! YES, I'LL DO SOMETHING! AND IT WON'T BE A GOOD SOMETHING! THEO MUST DAI AND BOTH BOYS MUST BE SAVED!

 

[*M i d n a*]

I read the two chapters you sent me, Myriad. Good job, as usual, that was a fine, entertaining read. So Daniel is captured and Theo's been experimenting on him trying to get info out of him. I wonder whether his bro' will help him in the end or something. Then the second chapter, lol, Adamarys got one in the leg, which put him out of action. And the team finally has met Theo and it looks like he's got something planned for them. I hope they all get out of that one. Keep up the good work.

 

[Myriadviper42]

Sign ups will open again at the end of the first book. You'll understand why, and what kinds of roles will be open at the end of the book.

Chapter 15

Malik simply stood there, gun pointed casually at the stasis tube containing Daniel. Malcolm, Daren, and Madeline weren't sure how to react. Perhaps it was the shock of seeing their thought-dead partner alive, in a stasis tube next to his replacement. Malik stood there, not sure why they weren't doing anything, and then he realized the answer. He chuckled sadistically. "Oh right. Right. I forgot that you guys didn't know Tony here wasn't dead. He was very, VERY close. I kept him alive and tortured him through the use of the same hallucinogen I'm using on Daniel right now."

"Let them go. Now," Daren demanded, but Malik simply laughed derisively.

"Or what? You'll shoot me? You see this finger, at the ready, right here? If it should happen to slip, bang, thud, splat, no more Daniel Byrne." Malik smirked. Being smug seemed to be a requirement for Prophet agents, it seemed.

"W-What about h-him?" Madeline asked nervously, her gun shaking as she pointed it at Malik.

Malik shrugged. "Eh. He can die too for all I care. Just put the weapons down please."

Malcolm, Daren, and Madeline exchanged wary glances with one another before setting their guns down on the ground. Malik took his gun away from the stasis tube. "Tell you what," Malik began, moving towards the tube with Tony in it. "Just to prove to you what a nice guy I am...I'll let him go. In return, you tell me what I need to know. Daniel here isn't cooperating." He gestured towards Daniel's body, which was bobbing silently in the hallucinogenic water monotonously. It was truthfully a bit creepy. Malik turned towards the tube with Tony in it and pressed a few buttons on the control panel. A hissing noise, and the glass opened, water spilled out along with Tony, who fell onto the cold floor, unconscious.

"How did you save his life?" Malcolm inquired uncertainly.

Malik snorted. "Save his life? I wouldn't call it that. More like 'prolong his death.' He was going to die, but I put him under a hallucinogen. The hallucinogen has some...special effects." Malik's face lit up with a triumphant glee. "I broke him. I control him. Daniel will have the same fate."

"W-What a-are you t-talking a-about?" Madeline stuttered, sounding terrified. Her face was paler than normal.

"Yeah, what the hell did you do to him?" Daren added aggressively, and Malcolm nodded in agreement.

"There is no Tony Delgado anymore," Malik practically cackled. "Tony! Come out and see your friends!" There was a moan on the ground, and Tony stirred, getting up slowly. His eyes opened, and he turned towards Malik. He was haggard and weak-looking from malnutrition and weeks if not months of torture. But the give away was his eyes. They were blank discs in his skull. Malcolm stepped back in horror, while Madeline trembled more and more. They'd believed Tony to be dead for months, and now they realized that he was worse than dead. Daren tried to compose himself, but several tears flowed down his cheeks.

Malik handed his gun to the man who was once Tony. "I don't have time to question them. Just kill them," he yawned, and flapped his lab coat dramatically before disappearing into the shadows. Tony raised his gun and fired. Malcolm barely managed to dodge in time, anyone who wasn't as experienced as he was would have been killed. Daren picked his gun off the ground and aimed it at the blank man, but it was an empty threat, and Tony wasn't capable of comprehending it. He fired at Daren, who ducked behind a crate. Madeline tried to tackle the larger man, however, he flung her off, sending her crashing into the ground. Malcolm pulled out another gun and searched for Malik, and found him, but Tony smashed into his back, sending him skidding to the ground.

Malik pulled out a notebook and started writing. This was the first time a soldier from his Hallucinogen Program would be in action. He would record this moment in history. It had taken some misdirection to make sure Prophet hadn't found out about his Program, especially when he brought Tony to the warehouse. That was tricky, but he'd managed to pull it off. Malcolm slowly got up to find that Malik had moved, and he cursed. Tony ran out of bullets and was about to reload when Daren punched him in the face, knocking his gun to the ground. The two men punched and kicked at one another brutally. Madeline picked up her gun and searched around for Malik, to no avail.

Daren swung wildly at Tony but his blow was caught easily. Malcolm kicked him in the face, sending him stumbling backwards. Malcolm's next blow he redirected before gut-punching his former leader in the stomach, causing Malcolm to gasp as all the air was knocked out of his stomach. A kick to the face and he was on the floor, blood spurting from his nose. Daren pressed his advantage from Malcolm's distraction, and managed to wrestle his former teammate to the ground. A headbutt from the man who was Tony and the situation was reversed, only Daren was now bruised pretty much everywhere, including his face.

Finally, Madeline saw a figure slipping towards the door and she raised her gun and fired a warning shot. Malik yelped in surprise and she raised her gun at him. "Hands in the air!" she yelled, without any stutter at all. Malik had already opened the door, and light illuminated his figure. She couldn't see his expression, only his silhouette. She saw him put his hands in the air, but then heard a distinct crunch in his mouth, and her eyes widened as he fell to the ground and started convulsing, frothing at the mouth. Suicide pill. Prophet agents were loyal to the end, she thought to herself. But then again, she wasn't to know it but Malik hadn't exactly been loyal...

Tony uppercut Daren, sending him crashing to the ground. He was about to end Daren's life when Malcolm raised his gun and fired. Tony's blank eyes widened in slight surprise as he sank to the ground. Malcolm looked horrified at what he had done, his hands shaking violently. "Oh no...oh no...this is terrible," he almost whispered, sinking to his knees.

Daren moved over towards their leader, and Madeline joined him. The three stayed put in the dark room, watching their former friend and companion bleed out. "M-Malik's dead," Madeline stated in a disbelieving tone. "S-suicide pill."

Daren started shaking, and then remembered about Daniel. He went to the control panel and stood there for about five minutes, trying to open the tube. He sighed. "Screw it," he said wearily, and picked up his gun and shot the tank. The water rushed out and Daniel's body washed out onto the floor. Immediately, he started coughing and spewing water out of his mouth, and his three friends gathered around him as he shuddered and twisted. There was nothing to use as a towel, and finally his eyes open, still with a spark of life in them.

"You came for me..." he gasped, and a smile briefly flitted across his face before his eyes rolled back in his head and he fell unconscious. Madeline and Daren helped him onto a stretcher, and Malcolm got on the phone for a brief minute. He closed it, sighing.

"Astrid and Adamaris made it out alright," he said in relief. "The mission was...was a success...despite...complications." There was a click in his throat, and he turned away from his two teammates, not saying anything. Both Daren and Madeline stood there silently, still in shock from what their former friend had become. Mindless. Blank. A recovery squad led by Elijah Sanford entered the building, searching for evidence and tidying up. Adamaris rushed to the others as fast as he could while in a wheelchair, leg bandaged, face full of worry.

"I heard some strange rumors about what you guys saw," he said breathlessly, talking to Madeline and Daren. "Could you...tell me what happened?"

Madeline and Daren glanced sadly at each other, and then turned back to Adamaris. Daren sighed. "Okay. Tony...he's alive...or...was alive. Malik put him under a hallucinogen that...broke him." He paused due to something getting caught in his throat. "And...and...he didn't recognize us, and he tried to kill us! Malcolm...Malcolm shot him...he's really dead now."

Adamaris stood there, mouth gaping a bit. He wheeled himself over to see Elijah's men picking up dead bodies and placing them in body bags. He opened one to see Brian Charleston. The next one he opened up was Tony. A tear rolled down his cheek when he saw him, eyes bright and looked like he didn't know what to say or do. He stood there, as if frozen, and then zipped the body bag up. He wheeled himself to face the rest of them. "I don't believe it...I don't believe it..."

With that, the three friends left the warehouse, objective complete.

***

"Okay, people, move it, these bodies are going to be kept in storage for a while, can't have you lollygaggin' on the job." Randall Quinn was the speaker, and happened to be Malcolm's contact inside of the government. He somehow managed to juggle his time between working for the federal government and fighting Prophet. One would think the job description for just one of those would be "stressful." Randall Quinn, however, probably was the least stressed-out person in the entire building. He certainly didn't look like he worked for the federal government. He had a narrow but long face, with a small amount of stubble. His sandy blond hair was generally kept at a moderate length, and his eyes were often described as being deadly and tranquil at the same time.

The man himself spoke in a Southern drawl, and was noticeably a bit eccentric in his dress. His shirt was halfway tucked in, tucked out, his shoes and socks were mismatched, and his dark slacks, when closely examined, were not black or navy, but purple. He always seemed to have a smug look on his face, and often gestured extravagantly while talking. He was in charge of the clean-up crew after major battles. Any bigger job and he'd be scrambling around to fit everything into his schedule. He had a close personal friendship with Malcolm, having once been an agent of Prophet inside the government before escaping with Malcolm. Most of the budget for the entire operation came from Randall. And he was content.

"You don't order me around, Quinn," Elijah Sanford replied scathingly. "Technically, I outrank you."

"Technically," Randall drawled, bulging his eyes at his companion while twirling his finger around, "I'm a part of the government, so I kind of do outrank you."

Elijah snorted derisively, but complied anyway. Randall tucked his hands behind his back, and looked over the body of Tony Delgado, and then Brian Charleston. He shook his head, tsk tsking. He stopped at the body of Theo Malik. "Now there was a dangerous man," he said, smiling. "Not so dangerous anymore, right Elijah?"

"I didn't think we were on first name basis," Sanford retorted. "But I suppose you're right."

Randall looked down into Malik's lifeless, staring eyes, and then closed up the body bag. "Oy, Elijah. Could you take these? I've got a meeting to attend."

Elijah grumbled before accepting. "Fine." The younger man strode off, raising a hand in farewell before quickly disappearing. Elijah rolled his eyes. To him, Randall Quinn was an unfortunate but necessary ally. He didn't like the man's attitude much, but he would have to deal with it. He wheeled the three body bags into the storage room, where they would be kept until they were dealt with. It wasn't the main Headquarters, but was clear on the other side of town. Elijah whistled to himself, placing the body of Charleston in a storage container. He was doing the same thing to Tony's body when something tingled on the back of his neck. A sixth sense. He heard the bag unzip, and turned around, and started to reach for his gun.

"That wasn't a suicide pill," Malik said, an insane and triumphant grin on his face as his fist hurtled towards Sanford's face.

 

[TatlTails]

AWW COME ON! REALLY?! AND HERE I THOUGHT THEY'D GOTTEN A BAD GUY OUT OF THE WAY! But hey, Madi finally said a sentence without stuttering! That's a first for her, happy about that! ...But I hate Theo.

 

[*M i d n a*]

I was suspecting that Theo was not dead, and your last sentence proved me right. Anyway, good job with it, Vipee.

 

[Myriadviper42]

Perhaps I'm biased in the favor of the villains. I DO love villains, but I assure you, some of them will die, and it will probably be satisfying. But of course, some will live on...and then there are some who aren't villains at all.

Chapter 16

Spinning, spinning, spinning, everything, blurs, as my eyes open. Dizzy spell, what the hell is going on here? Where am I? What am I doing here? What happened to the pain? It's gone, gone forever, yet I still feel it. Cold. Empty. Eyes fade in and out of focus, voices that I should understand ride around in circles inside my skull. Can't understand. Can't comprehend. What the hell. Is going on. No. Is something wrong? Or is that just a remnant of the pain? I almost giggle, and something in my mind tries to cut through the fog, and a piercing headache punches through my skull.

I scream out in pain, and I see the blurs rushing to help. Clasp hands to temples, feel like they're about to explode. My head is being pressed by a vice, and it is agony agony agony. Where am I who am I why am I? Am I insane? I feel a pain in my arm, needle, and the pain fades as the blurs fade to black. No no no no no no no no no. Where am I? Again? No. Bad. Can't stay here, need to get out. But I can't. I lose the will to move and relaxation takes over, even though brain juice should be coming out of my skull by now. Everything is gone, and I sleep peacefully, the vise loosening its grip on me.

My eyes slowly open again, and I feel more aware, more lucid this time. I can see better, and it's the same place I've woken up every time I've been knocked unconscious and brought back to Headquarters. I can only vaguely recall anything that's happened after Slater shot me with a tranquilizer. A lot of pain. ...Malik? Prophet. Yes, that was it. Prophet had captured me. And there was so much pain...so much. I glance around, my hands trembling, and I see a mirror on the bedside table. I look at myself to see that I am pale and gaunt, and the mirror trembles in my hand. I look sick.

The door opens and Adamaris walks in, and does a double take when he sees that I'm out of my sleep. "Guys, he's awake!" he calls, and people come running. I smile warmly as Madeline, Adamaris, Daren, and Astrid come in to the room at different times and different intervals. Eventually, they're all in there, with varying degrees of concern on their face.

"W-We'd thought we'd l-lost y-you," Madeline says, a joyful smile on her face. "B-But you're b-back n-now."

"You were out cold for at least a week, mate," Malcolm says, a grin on his face.

"Thanks guys," I say, my voice sounding weak but grateful. "I'm glad I'm alive too. Just...nothing too bad for a while. At least another week. I think I've had enough pain for a lifetime."

Daren stands off to the side, a sullen look on his face. I notice this and address him. "Daren, what's up?"

"None of your business," he snaps, much to my surprise.

"Aren't you...glad to see me?" I inquire hesitantly, and he turns toward me, the same look still on his face.

"I found out that the man you replaced, Tony Delgado, didn't die, but was subjected to psychological and physical torture until he was turned into a puppet of Theo Malik," he spits out bitterly. "And you were stupid enough to nearly let the same happen to you."

"It didn't," I say feebly, and he clenches his fists.

"That's not the point. You replaced Tony, and we had to kill him to save you. His blood is on your hands as much as it is ours."

"Daren, get out," Adamaris states calmly, but it is clear that he will not back down.

"Everyone, just settle down," Malcolm intervenes, trying to stop the rising tension in the room. "Daren, you're acting irrationally."

"People act irrationally!" Daren yells. "It's human nature! We are dominated by our emotions, and I don't see how that's a bad thing!"

"Y-You're acting l-like a ch-child," Madeline says forcefully, despite the stutter.. "Y-You should j-just b-be glad that D-Daniel is back."

"I am!" he yells, but it doesn't ring true. I groan and put a hand to my forehead.

"Daren, leave," Malcolm says calmly. "Daniel doesn't need to be stressed out right now, not after what he went through."

Daren looks like he's about to say something, but he shuts his mouth, and stalks out of the room, slamming the door behind him. "What...the hell was with him?" I ask.

"He's angry at Prophet thanks to what Tony became," Adamaris explains, trying to sound soothing. "He just wants to take it out on something-or someone."

I try to get out of bed. "I need to see Trueman," I slur, and Malcolm tries to stop me from getting up.

"You're in no condition to be going anywhere, Daniel. Just sleep."

"No," I say, more serious than before. "I need to see him. I just had one of his men torture me for a very, very long time. I am going to go down there and beat him until he gives us the location of their base." I slap his hands away and stand up, legs wobbling. No one but Malcolm tries to stop me, and I stumble into the elevator and head to the prison floor. I open Trueman's cell, and he's there, and waves casually to me.

"You look a little under the weather," he says faux-politely, although there's no sign of anything but sincerity on his face.

"You will look a little under the weather if you won't tell me where your headquarters are," I say, raising a pale fist. He doesn't flinch.

"Video et taceo," he replies. "I see no reason to tell you anything. You don't have the strength to do so. How did Theo torture you? I haven't seen the pale effect before. How long has it been since you've eaten?"

"He put me under a hallucinogen that left me in a state of constant, terrified agony," I say coldly, and he chuckles at this. I punch him in the face, and he cries out in pain, and then laughs.

"That's good," he says, still in that polite tone. "I never saw that one before. But, Daniel..." he leans closer to me. "We're on the same side. Amicus meus, inimicus inimici mei. The enemy of my enemy...is my friend."

"We are not friends," I declare scathingly.

He shrugs. "Who knows? I sure don't. I don't know what's going to happen. And as for my headquarters? We call it Control. And I'm not telling you anything."

I punch him again, this time drawing blood, his head snapping back. "That change your mind?" I turn to see Malcolm and Astrid standing outside, looking like they're not sure how to react. I punch him again, and then again, and again. I chop him in the throat, knee him in the groin, and then slam his head into the table, and he yells out in pain through all of it, bloodied by my beating. And all throughout it he just gives me a smile, a sincere-looking one, not a smirk. But the sincerity makes it all the more sarcastic. I punch him again, knocking him to the ground, and he groans in pain, and I breathe heavily from the effort. The door opens.

"You won't be getting anything out of him that way," Malcolm says. "Daniel. You need to rest. Trueman is pretty much resistant to physical torture. You could go within an inch of killing him and he wouldn't tell you anything he didn't want to."

"I'm sorry, Malcolm," I say, sincerely. "I just want to make them pay. I want them to die."

"I understand that," he says calmly, although the mood is kind of ruined by his mustache. "It just won't work. Come back upstairs. Sleep."

There's a chuckle mixed with gurgling blood from the floor. "Let me tell you something," Trueman says, a smirk forming on his face even though he is lying bloodied and beaten on the floor. "Something you might want to know. In one week from now, Prophet will be meeting at a fancy party. They will not be the only ones there, and will use the other party-goers as hostages. I won't tell you where until one hour before it begins. That'll make things...interesting. We clear?"

Malcolm and I look at each other. "I suppose," I drawl, and pick him up by the scruff of his throat. "But why should we believe you?"

He chuckles. "I have no reason to lie to you, and every bit of information I've ever given you has been the truth," he says calmly. "Isn't that enough?"

I set him down, and exit the room with Malcolm. "You know, I used to be friends with him," Malcolm says sadly. "Best friends."

"What happened?" I ask curiously, my legs starting to shake a little from walking..

"I was one of the first to join. Marcus wasn't in charge at the time, his brother, Bartholomew, was," he says, looking up like he's remembering all this. "Then he disappeared, and Marcus took control. Slowly but surely they started losing their morals. They became monsters. They kept secrets from me. I didn't even know what our goal was. Nobody would tell me, not even Marcus. I escaped along with Adam Goodwin and my contact in the government, Randall Quinn."

I hear yelling from upstairs, and Malcolm purses his lips, a little confused. "That's odd," he says. "What's going on?"

We get into the elevator and get out at a higher floor. Two men stagger into Headquarters, and I recognize one of them. Elijah Sanford. He coughs feebly, and blood comes out. "He needs medical attention ASAP!" the other man yells. He has a long face and messy sandy hair. His clothes are strangely mismatched, and he sighs in relief when he sees Malcolm. "Thank God, Malcolm. You're here. Heh heh. We found him in an abandoned factory, bleeding from the head and he has burn scars on his chest! Help! Help!"

Malcolm rushes over and kneels by Sanford, who groans feebly. I hobble towards them and listen to their conversation. "He was missing for how long again?"

"Since the last mission ended. Malik faked his death. Little bast-"

"No need for language right now, Randall," Malcolm interrupted, and then turned to me. "Ah, yes, Daniel, this is my contact in the government, Randall Quinn."

"Pleasure," I say, shaking the man's hand, and he clears his throat.

"Poor man, poor poor man," he says, a sad look on his face. "I'd been teasing him before he'd gotten knocked out and taken. Of course, you were recovering from massive mind torture at the time, so you wouldn't have known that, you'd have been too busy screaming your head off to realize."

"I didn't know," I reply feebly.

"Catch you around," he says, holding his arm up in the air in farewell before sauntering off somewhere else. I turn to Malcolm.

"What's his deal?" I ask quietly.

"Randall's a bit...eccentric," Malcolm explains. "You should probably go back to bed. There's nothing you can do for now."

I nod, and head to my room, not running into any of my teammates. I crash on the bed and immediately open my mind to dreams.

***

Steven Gardner briskly walked down the halls of Control, his hair washed for once in his life. He was late to the meeting. All major Prophet agents were gathering in order to discuss the final phase of Operation Moron, which was coming up soon. Very soon. Then, their leader would be back with them and they wouldn't have to listen to Grant Aamor anymore. It would be a joyous day. Marcus had meticulously planned everything out, with different instructions for a multitude of different scenarios, one of which included what they would do if he died. The guy was crazy-prepared. He bumped past Adrian Key on the way there, who was eating a hot dog he'd gotten from the nearby mall. He opened the door hurriedly, and quickly sat down in his spot next to Damien Byrne, who was picking at something in his teeth with a toothpick.

"Nice of you to drop by, Steven," Grant drawled sarcastically from the head of the table. "You didn't miss anything important, just getting started."

Gardner looked around with an amused smile on his face at the people around him. Apart from himself, Damien, and Grant, there were several others in the room. Joseph Slater sat at Grant's right side, twiddling his thumbs and looking bored. Theo Malik, recently returned from a close shave with Malcolm's group, glanced around a lot, blinking about twice as much as everyone else in the room. Natalie Hunt wouldn't look at her handler, or the woman sitting next to her, Isabelle West. Not exactly the most trustworthy of individuals, her. He didn't know many of the others personally, and didn't honestly care to. Prophet was not very sentimental. At all.

"So where were you before I dropped in?" Gardner drawled, stretching. Strands of hair fell in his face as he talked, and he rolled his eyes as he did so.

"We were just catching up," Aamor groaned, "already told you this, moron. Anyway, let's begin. As we all know, soon Marcus will be back among us."

"And the stupidity will be over," Natalie monotoned, her hand on her chin. That garnered a chuckle from her contemporaries.

"Shut up," Aamor almost whined. "I'm in charge, shut up."

"No, you're not," Damien stated matter-of-factly. "You just think you are."

"Everyone be quiet! We need to iron out the details, so stop talking about what an ineffective leader I am and let's get on with the damn show!" Aamor's shoulders heaved up and down, face flushed. Everyone else quieted, and he took a deep breath. "Good. Good. Okay, here's the deal. The interrogation of Daniel Byrne was botched thanks to Theo here-"

"Excuse me?" Malik almost shouted.

"-but we did manage to take his credentials, and that is important. Theo, how many Shade Devices have you created?"

"Three, so far, after Slater destroyed two of them," Malik huffed.

"Not my fault," Slater said, "I had to destroy them or else Malcolm would have got them. Isn't that a better option?"

"Whatever," Malik replied, crossing his arms.

"You guys are behaving like immature children," Gardner laughed.

Natalie scoffed at this remark. "Coming from my slime ball handler?"

"I resent that," Gardner sneered, although he adopted a greasy smile while answering his colleague. Hunt was only here because she was hoping to be promoted past her current position, to be a part of the inner workings of Prophet. Gardner didn't understand why she was being allowed to do so. The meeting was just so she could see what things were like, and so far, indeed, a lot of the people in the room had been acting like petulant children.

"Gardner has a point," Slater said softly. "We're better than this. Grant, Theo, stop it. I apologize for my comments, let's just get the damn show on the road!"

"I agree," Hunt replied easily, looking more and more at ease as time went on. Gardner could still, however, see the slightest trace of discomfort, or fear, in her eyes. Hunt had always been a bit...reluctant, only joining because she really had nowhere else to go. He'd been tasked by Aamor to keep tabs on her, and if he was honest with himself, he wasn't quite sure whether she wouldn't desert for Malcolm's group. If she tried, well, he'd just have to take appropriate measures of payback. His own form of payback.

"The team with Daniel on it is weak and gullible," Damien stated coldly. "I'm certain we can lure them into a trap, and then take their appearances. The only question is what would draw their attention?"

"What would draw their attention indeed..." Gardner pondered, and then a lightbulb went off in his head. He looked over at Damien, who still hadn't bothered to shave or trim his hair even after he'd escaped from prison. "Damien..." he began warily, and he turned towards Gardner, as did everyone else.

"You have an idea, greaseball?" Aamor asked.

"Yes?" Damien inquired.

Gardner hesitated a second or two before stating the following words. "How would you feel about a shave?"