Forum Thread

"What are you doing?" A young voice asks. The familiarity of it makes Bree frown. "Why are you leaving me?" Bree clenches her teeth and places her hands over her ears, desperate to tune out the voice.
"Shut up! Just shut up!" Both (current) Bree and a new voice shout.

"Please!" A younger Bree screams out. She reaches a hand out towards her mother, but instead of clutching her arm she only grabs air. "Don't leave me!"
"Quiet!" A harsh voice shouts. The anger in her voice makes Bree flinch. Slowly she lowers her hand down to her side and stares towards her mother, who lets out a disappointed sigh. "You won't be here long. I promise I'll come back for you." Bree feels a hand touch her cheek. "Be good, and do everything the kind scientists tell you to do. Okay?" Bree doesn't respond, but instead stares at her mother in shock. This was the first time she could remember her mother ever being so kind and gentle.
"Times up miss Wilson" a calm voice says. Bree jumps in surprise when she feels a hand grab her arm and roughly drag her backwards- away from her mother.
"Wait!" Bree shouts. She tries to wrestle out of the scientist's grip, but it was no use. She wasn't strong enough.
"You did a good job with this one. We see potential in this one." The same voice says. "It's too bad she was born with an error, but you still deserve the full cost." He chuckles after a beat of silence. "Do you seriously feel bad? Don't feel pity towards this creature."
"Stop it" her mother practically growls. "Just... Don't hurt her okay."
"We won't, I promise...."
So many broken promises...

Bree's eyes snap open. No longer was she in that cold room. Instead she lay out in the battlefield. How long had she been here? How much time had passed? She slowly sits up and immediately regrets it. She winces and holds a hand over her ribs. At least one of them was bruised, she could recognize this pain. She brings a hand to her face so that she could feel the severity of her wounds. She nearly screams out in pain when she lightly presses her hand against her forehead, she could feel a large and open wound. She lowers her hand to her nose, she could tell that it was broken.

She didn't have much energy left. But she had to try. She activates her power, breathing out a relieved sigh when the pain almost instantly drifts away. She could feel her wounds closing and her swelling going down. She manages to rebreak her nose, allowing it to mend back to it's natural state. She collapses back down onto the ground when it's all over. She was spent, but at least she wasn't going to bleed to death. There you go Bree thinks to herself. Now that I'm healthy again, someone can come and injure me all over again. She scoffs at this thought and shuts her eyes. "At least kill me quickly" she mutters outloud to nobody in particular.

Over, and over, and over, and over, and over again. Each shot was more painful than the last, each sound was more terrifying than the last, and even the dread of knowing he was stuck in a loop got worse as time passed. Each and every time was the exact same... He jumped, he landed, he got shot. He jumped, he landed, he died. He hesitated, he jumped, he died. Was he really just falling to his death every time? No matter what he did, he would get shot soon after he landed. One thing was different, though, one thing that could be the clue to the endless cycle he now lived in. It was that man, the general, the one who stared at him dead in the eyes each and every time. Each and every time he seemed to move closer to Dantier, ever so slowly. Right before he was shot in every attempt he had, he would look over and see him moved just a little bit from each time he saw him. Was he really living in a horror movie or something? The cold dead eyes staring into his soul, moving closer and closer whenever he wasn't looking, the sense of dread creeping up on him, the painful truth of him being stuck like this, unable to do anything, it was all real.

He started to panic whenever he woke back up on the helicopter for probably the 100th time in the past 10 minutes, his breathing was intense and his body shaked and felt like giving out. His eyes were open wide and refused to close in order to blink, he was bent over heaving, and sweat was dripping down his face. Was there really nothing he could do? He had no other choice but to jump, and whatever he did down on the ground had to be different from last time, they had to be. He took a deep breath and jumped, hoping and praying he wouldn't meet such an unfortunate fate again. He pulled the pin and let himself be yanked by the opening parachute once again, then landed on the ground. He grabbed a gun first thing and started to run over to the general, narrowly avoiding the bullets as they passed by him. "What the hell are you doing!?" He slammed the gun against the man's forehead and grabbed the collar of his uniform, his voice filled with rage and fear. All he saw was a smirk that sent chills down his spine, a smirk that seemed to say "It doesn't matter, I've already won," before pain rushed from his leg, and his vision went blurry. Dantier fell to the ground with a thud, his mind only thinking one thing.

"It's hopeless... There's nothing I can do..."

When he came to, the first thing he saw was a figure looming over him, one that had a plague doctor mask and seemed to be treating his wounds. Wait... didn't he die? How was he still alive? Did this person get to him in time? He blinked a few times before attempting to get up, but immediately fell back to the ground when his bones ached and screamed in agony at the slightest movement. He looked at them closer, having a vague feeling that he recognized them. She was the sniper he saw with a tranquilizer-like weapon, and she was also one who possessed an incredible healing power. "Grimm...? What the..." He tilted his head slightly to look around him, his senses beginning to come back to him when he realized where exactly he was. He gave a sigh of disappointment and closed his eyes as he thought about the position he was in at the moment. He had probably escaped the loop for now, but one gunshot to the head could kill his hopes. His eyes snapped open when he heard the sudden sound of helicopter blades roaring over their heads, announcing its presence. Within a few seconds of it's arrival though, the sounds of guns firing began to dwindle down to the point where the battlefield was almost dead silent. What the hell...? His mind started to race as he thought about what just happened, so many questions he wanted to ask, but how would he get his answer? Well, he didn't really need to have such questions anymore as it was answered by a soldier falling dead right in his line of site. The thuds of bodies hitting the ground was one of the only noises heard in the wasteland that they fought in. His eyes widened in horror as he slowly pieced together what was going on. Without warning, everyone he knew, everyone who put their lives on the line for this war, everyone standing on this field, was dead. It seemed as though only the ones who had gone through the worst hell of all survived, the ones who lived their lives as powerful pawns to an incompetent king.

He knew he had to get up, it didn't matter if his body was screaming for him not to, he had to get up and do something. He slowly got up to the best of his ability, gritting his teeth to keep screams of pain from leaving his mouth. He knew he was shot in the leg, he felt it and saw the blood on his uniform, but why did the rest of his body hurt this much? Was the bullet somehow coated in a potent venom or something like that? He sat up and leaned on his arm to support himself as he looked at his leg, then at Grimm. "We have to leave, no-" he was abruptly stopped by his mouth being covered in a thick cloth and his arms being pinned down, giving him a harder time to escape. He was too weak to fight them off, but he still tried, and looked at Grimm desperately while doing so. He saw yet another strange figure approach her quickly from behind and do the same thing to her, cover her mouth and pinned her arms down. The figure had a plain black mask that covered their face, and had a matching uniform to go along with it. What was going on... Why was this happening? He kept trying to struggle, almost being successful at times, but his weakness would always be taken advantage of. He couldn't breath, the cloth was suffocating him and the constant aching from his body didn't help him much. He was panicking, but in the end, he knew there was nothing he could do.

---

*Grimm knew what was being put over her beak when she smelt it. Chloroform. She tapped a button in the side of her headpiece and her mask instantly started filtering the air. Fighting to stay conscious she began to slow her breath. She knew she would be unconscious within seconds so she quickly raised her pistol and fired the last healing dart she had, it hit Dantier in the leg. She the fell unconscious*

---

Despite her exhaustion, every time Bree jumped from the helicopter, she still found herself ending up in the same place. She would end up nearly being killed by the girl, only to be saved by Erin. Soon, the situation seemed too familiar, so she tried to defend herself. Sometimes she'd dodge the blow, other times she'd strike first. But her fate still remained the same.

She could barely move when she reached the final timeline. This time, she couldn't even bring herself to look at Erin when the shots went off. All she wanted to do was sleep. How could she be so tired? When did she get so weak? She practically had to drag herself away from the two bodies. She stopped after some distance and lay in wait for the worse.

If only she really understood what the worst was. She heard bodies fall, (let the bodies hit the floor.) Based on the sound alone, she could tell that there were lots of them. What happened? Adrenaline rushes through Bree as she lay alone in dead silence. What is going on? That's when she hears a helicopter fly overhead and later, the sound of feet rushing towards Bree.

Bree cursed when she feels a hand cup over her mouth. She panics for a moment, her breathing quickens and causes her to inhale mouthfuls of chloroform. She tries to calm down, tries to slow her breathing. She brings an elbow back, jamming it into the stomach of her attacker. But an arm wraps around her midsection and pulls her in close so that she couldn't easily hurt her attacker. She reactions on instinct now, even with her limited movement, she manages to stab the person's leg. He screams out and releases her.

Bree breathes in desperate mouthfuls of fresh air and scoots herself away from her attacker. "You should've brought two to bring me down!" She taunts. "I'm not going down without a fight!"

Perhaps she should've kept her mouth shut. She could hear an amused chuckle from her attacker and someone behind her! This time, there is nothing she can do to fight off her attacker. She was weaponless, exhausted, and slightly bruised from fighting that girl so many times. She gave it her best-gave it her all. But no matter what, she was still too weak. With each passing minute, she could feel her body growing weaker, her body slowly loosing consciousness. Why did they pick this method to knock her out? Were they just trying to rub salt in her wounds? She was angry, angry at them, angry at herself, angry at everyone. She'd find a way to get her revenge... These people would regret taking her! No longer would Bree wait to walk into a fight. No, something had to change! This time, she'd bring the fight to them!

Rey reached out, extending a large arm made from the dirt on the ground, now stained red with blood. Dantier was falling from the helicopter. In the crowd, he saw a man, or maybe it was a woman, taking aim with a gun. Whoever it was, he/she seemed to be aiming right towards Dantier. As he did so, a feeling of dread, of hopelessness enveloped him. Did he do this before? Random images of him trying to save Dantier flooded his mind, as if being shown a slideshow. each one showed himself trying to either catch Dantier or killed the man/woman before she shot the bullet. Each one was using a different power. Flight, air manipulation, bounce, density control. Then, it showed Rey the after images of this, showing Rey failing, over, over, over, over and over again. Some showed him failing to catch dantier, and him falling to his death, some showed Rey getting shot while trying to save dantier, some showed him him failing to stop the man/woman before she shot the bullet. All failures, each one worse than the other. But those didn't happen. Not yet. Not this time. This time, he will succeed, even if he hadn't failed yet, at least in his timeline. He switched his power, since fire wouldn't be able to catch dantier, nor kill fast enough to stop the bullet. one of the images showed him that. the power made the ground around him vibrate, very slightly, giving him a heavy sturdy feeling in his chest. Maybe it was a gut feeling, but he knew what to do. He thrust his hand out, and a arm made from pure, bloodstained dirt erupted from the ground, and he directed it towards the solider. It sped towards the man/woman. This time for sure, he'll save Dantier.

"BANG"

The bullet shot out of the gun, inches away from the dirt arm. it sped towards the crowd, and a cry of agony could be heard. The dirt arm knocked the solider out, but the bullet had been fired. He failed again. But the timeline didn't reset. Dantier was still alive. Rey sped towards the approximate location where Dantier had fallen, only to see Dantier, leg bleeding and another person getting carried away by several others.

No. Not like this. Rey ran towards Dantier, only to be stopped by a knife wielding figure, wearing a black mask. Rey was unarmed, and one armed, but he needed to get to Dantier as quick as possible. He was tired, and couldn’t possibly make any big moves. All he could do was to summon a dagger made out of dirt, solidified and compressed to be as hard as steel. He lunged at the figure, only to be stopped with the knife.

“Rey, look around you. Get out of here.” The tiny voice finally spoke again. Rey stole a glance around. He was surrounded. The area was quiet. Much too quiet. The former chaos and shouting from the battle had disappeared, only to hear a few clashing of weapons and flashes of power in the distance. He had to create a opening, somehow. At least, Dantier was still alive, since the timeline hadn’t reset yet. So right now, his highest priority was to escape. Wielding the dirt knife, he charged at a single enemy, only to be stopped short with a clash of 2 blades. Rey staggered back. Just a bit more power. Pushing past his limit, he summoned some dirt from the ground, enveloping it around himself, as body armor. He charged once again at a single target with new strength, stabbing into the unlucky fellow. Pushing the man aside, he felt a sharp pain in his stomach. As a last resort, the masked man had stabbed him, right through a hole in the now crumbling dirt armor. The other knife wielding enemies were quick to follow up. As Rey parried attack by attack, he could feel him getting weaker with each swing, either from blood loss or the poison on the knife. Either way, he had to go, now. Rey pushed another masked man back, and tried to knock him down to create a opening, only to get blocked. He wasn’t strong enough. His armor was crumbling into small pieces, he had reached his limit a long time ago. With the last bit of strength, he thrust the dirt knife into the man, just as 2 other knifes sank into Rey’s back. Rey coughed out blood, both knife and armor softening back into dirt. He collapsed on the ground face first.

Then the world crumbled into black.

---

xxxxx

─────────╴─╴─╴─ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐍 ❝𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐍❞╶─╶─╶─╶────── ─
𝙵𝙻𝙲-𝟸𝟶𝟶𝟷/𝟢𝟢𝟫𝟪𝟧𝟥𝟥𝟨𝟢𝟢
android
allegiance blue
tagging the soldiers- san, bree, etc.
location the battlefield
feeling wary, aggressive, alarmed
wc; 728 words
──────────────────╴─╴─╴─╴╶─╶─╶─╶─────────────── ─
Lost in the tide of battle and yet not, Erin felt herself disappear into the fray, and FLC-2001 took her place. The android took life without conscience and without remorse. The ground's scarlet gradient shifted and expanded rhythmically. The faces blurred in front of enemy, the scanners built into her head separating enemy and ally. Her vision never blurred, never faltered. Sent into the field with one cold-cut purpose, she did not focus on the faces of the Red soldiers, nor the words they shouted towards her, lining them up with the bullseye-indicator in her vision, and pulling the trigger. Again and again and again. The sounds of battle swept around her, and she processed them without even noticing, absorbing information of ally and enemy both. Cool, unrelenting, precise. This was what she was meant for, her purpose. The pools of scarlet blood drew her forward, like a hound on the trail, and she followed its call. Aim and shoot, aim and shoot. If an android such as herself could express joy, then she might've been exultant at the current moment. But such emotions were just distractions, and so she shoved them aside. Again, she fired, killed, her movements too fast for her opponents to even raise their rifles. She might've felt bad for them. Maybe.

There were faces, of course, that seemed to stick out to her, even as she tried to ignore them. Hindered by too many enemies, her path became erratic, not really straight but not diagonal. All throughout, her face was a neutral mask betraying little emotion beyond stone-cold focus. It was almost eerie to see how little regard Erin had for the lives of her opponents, and how little the war seemed to be affecting her. Any real person would've been unable to process the carnage that lay before her, but FLC-2001's numbing headspace was a shield against reality. It was hard to feel pained for something when a firm emotional connection was absent. It made fighting easier. It made sleeping at night even easier, even though she never had nightmares. A splash of blue flashed in the corner of her eye, her brain registering the distinctive cerulean hue of thirium 310 blood only a millisecond before her body jerked to the right, a new wound opening up in her shoulder blades. Cerulean ink leaked from the wound, staining the ground blue, pooling to make purple. An uncharacteristic expression of irritation bled over FLC-2001's normally placid facade and she lashed out without even thinking. The soldier's figure was fragile— when she pounced on him with his throat in her claws, she watched the light leave his eyes without a struggle. As if he had been waiting to die this whole time.

For some reason, FLC-2001 couldn't imagine what that felt like.

The android wasn't prepared for the battlefield to go silent, nor for the fighting to end so soon. When the din of artillery ceased, she found herself caught off guard, a confused furrow on her brow. What happened—? All she saw was bodies upon bodies, as if everyone had been laid down to rest by a single spell. Gas? Distantly, she saw the others she had been deployed with immediately turn to bolt, seeking to make their escape while there was no one to stop them. No, you— Wresting control of her body back from FLC-2001's pernicious numbness, Erin lunged after them, a stinging rebuke on her lips. What if there were people hiding in the trees, they—

An impact to her left took advantage of her diverted attention, throwing her to the ground and kicking up dust. An angry yell tore from her, more from shock than any version of pain. Unfamiliar voices, unfamiliar pain. A stab of chagrin that turned to indignation registered within her as she realized that she had allowed them to get close, a common humanlike error. Stupid, stupid! A fist to the face knocked the soldier pinning her aside, and she soon followed up with a knee to the gut. He barked and scrambled aside, but as she fought to rise, something jabbed into her neck, right above the port.

Electricity blasted away her world. A spasm tore down the column of her spinal cord, leaping from the specialized taser into her system. Error messages enveloped her vision until she couldn't see anything else.

In a cyborg act of self preservation, she shut down.

*Grimm could hear voices. She felt as if her head was under water. She could faintly hear someone calling out something. She didn’t know where she was, what happened to her, and what might happen to her. She tried to remove the blindfold from her face, but her hands were bound. Grimm began to panic. She began to wonder why she even decided to help out in the first place. Grimm wished she could do something to make her presence known if rescue came.*

---

With his last moments of consciousness, he decided to look at the area around him instead of struggling any further. He probably would never see the light of day again, so might as well enjoy the not so great scenery while he could. He would give anything to see the nice green, never-ending hills of his homeland with his brother and aunt once again, but he knew he couldn't. His last living family members were found and killed as soon as he became the monster that he was, leaving him with no hope and nothing to live for. He looked over to where there was a bunch of commotion, only to see Rey, covered in plates of earth as he desperately tried to run from the masked men. He was being attacked so many times, it was almost unbearable to watch. He wanted to turn away so he couldn't watch, but his eyes were stuck on the scene. Rey... So many times had he tried to save him, he had seen him out of the corner of his eye right before Dantier died all those times, but he always failed. Dantier would always die, and Rey had to live with the fact that he couldn't save him. Of course, Dantier assumed he didn't remember any of those attempts, even though it was possible that he did, and it brought some relief to his mind. His attention was quickly turned to his leg, where he felt something hit him. Was that... Did Grimm... He looked at the dart, then at Grimm, who was being dragged away, unconscious. Had she tried to heal him with the last bit of energy she had left? His body slowly became quiet, the pain becoming just a faint sing. He felt energized again, but what was it going to do? These men were unnaturally strong, and there was 2 of them on him. He struggled as much as he could, but as he suspected, it was no use. With that, his vision was willed with darkness and his body fell numb.

Dantier woke up with a started gasp, his eyes still covered in darkness. He could barely see around him, but what he did see was surprising. There were people with familiar faces all around him, all still unconscious and lying limp on the floor. The sound of a loud motor rang in his ears as he tried to thnk on who these people were, the sound and lack of light making it harder to do. He knew some of these people, instantly due to how close they were to him, but a few made him think a little. He tried getting up to look closer, but he had a hard time doing that with his hands tied behind his back. He eventually managed to get close enough, and when he did, his body froze. It was them. The people he left behind long ago, the people he abandoned for his own safety. San, Bree, Jaxon, Erin, Lediana, Jordan, all of them, all of the ones who were met with an unfortunate fate like him.

---

Chip was laying on the ground, struggling. He could hear voices and felt a soft cloth against his mouth. He fought back, kicking and punching but never landing a hit on whoever was doing this. He began to lose his consciousness, his limbs growing weak and his feet moving slower. He eventually lost his full consciousness, his heartbeat growing weak and his eyelids closing. He couldn't hear any noises or feel anything anymore.

---

*Grimm would wake up I coughing. She had noticed her blindfold had fallen off. She looked around and saw that she wasn’t on the battlefield anymore. It seemed she was in a metal cell with some of the others she had seen them all before through the scope of her MS.9. She hoped they would be aggressive when they awoke.*

---

His legs felt like they were going to break and San didn't know what to do.

As usual he had leapt out of the aircraft and rained hell upon anyone unlucky enough to be caught on his crossfire. From experience, he should have only fractured his fibula and thigh, having broken an ankle at worst. So why was there a roar of agony licking all the way up to his waist, the pain crushing the familiar blank headspace where nothing but orders mattered into an obsolete memory that faded with every pulse of suffering? Even the slight bounce that accompanied his every step, courtesy of his very feline legs had him biting his lip to muffle any ragged noises.

Out in the distance, he could see a flicker of blue and San eagerly bounded over, muzzle flashing as bodies fell in his wake. His headspace was creeping back in and it frustrated San to no end that his escape was so close but yet he couldn't fall into the familiar numbness that S48A2N5 provided. Sliding into the shield, San allowed himself to crumple on the ground, heavy wheezing rattling his chest. He could feel frantic hands press all over his body but all he could think about was breathing through the waves of flaring agony that ran up and down his legs. He could almost feel the bone saw digging into his knee cap, popping the cartilage off and replacing it with something foreign, something familiar. There was a firm pressure against his thigh and instinctively, San thrashed under the unwanted touch. He had been good, right? He hadn't fought back and everyone had followed all the rules. Sannie didn't like it when the people in white hurt him. It wasn't fun and everything would hurt afterwards. But Sannie only got hurt when he had been bad. So why was Sannie getting hurt? Why why whywhywhwywhy

A shrill scream snapped him out of his spiraling headspace as he sat up with a gasp. Everything was quiet. Much too quiet. Red eyes took in the oddly empty battlefield, the only signs of life being the small faction of his family huddled around him. Whipping around, he looked his family in the eye before positioning both lateral L hands before hook them together in an almost frantic motion. When the others looked hesitant, Sans lips curled back, not even needing to sign as his barred fangs said all that was needed. As fast as they could, his rag-tag family fled towards the nearby woods that would lead away from the battlefield. San's gun had long since been abandoned though the parts for a second one were still stored on the various pouches strapped to his lithe body. With deft hands, he freed his ears and tail from their bindings, letting the appendages perk up and survey the landscape. It appeared safe enough with no signs of activity, but one could never let their guard down during war.

He was proven right when the soft crunch of gravel had him ducking quickly, legs lashing out to dig the heel of his foot right under his assailant's kneecap. A soft grunt was his reward as San flipped around, dexterous tail whipping up to curl around the enemies neck as San landed heavily on padded shoulders, slender thighs joining his tail in choking the fight out of his opponent. Claws joined in the fray, gouging into any exposed skin but San was soon knocked off his opponent when his head was unceremoniously yanked backwards, spine cracking audibly. His mouth fell open as pain radiated from multiple spots on his body, mind scrambled from the agonizing wounds, both physical and mental. His screams were soundless even without the damp rag shoved over his mouth and nose, limbs twitching involuntarily as his eyes rolled backwards. He didn't need the sickly sweat chloroform to fall unconscious, the silence of his turmoil ridden mind a merciful reprice from the haunting terrors.

He almost expected to not wake up

Everything hurt

When he did wake up, it was to blissful darkness and blinding pain.

The bedding surrounding him was rough and coarse, understandable considering that the institution never liked spending more money than needed. It also reeked of dirt and blood, something that made his nose twitch. There were also others. They had familiar scents, some more nostalgic than others. He wasn't sure what to make of such a situation and just as he was starting to convince himself to open his eyes when someone screamed not only startling him but making him flinch as well, sensitive ears pressed tightly to his head. "Where are you! Come out cowards! I'll kill you for this!" Quickly clamping his hands over his mouth to muffle any terrified sobs, an instinctual action born when he had once had a voice to sob with, San froze when his hands didn't do as they were told. There was something restraining him and his panicked confusion only grew, tugging on his bindings almost desperately. The smells that had once been nostalgic and somewhat familiar were now frightening and foreign as soundless whines spilled over his lips, eyes still squeezed shut as if the nightmare would go away if he didn't acknowledge it. Each mode of communication had been taken from him and he was effectively soundless in a room full of danger.

---

"Is... Is she dead?" Bree asks the scientist close to her. Bree was younger now, much younger than she was in her previous memory.
"What makes you say that?" The scientist asks.
"I see red... Lots of it" Bree whispers nervously.
"Red huh? Interesting..." The scientist mutters. Slowly, Bree approaches the person- a girl based on the short description the scientist gave her. Besides her calm breathing, the strange girl was silent. Was she knocked out? Slowly, Bree hold a hand over the red. Something about it was drawing her in, but why-?
Her hands and arms felt weird. It felt like energy was leaving her body. Slowly, the red on the girl's body disappeared. Bree nearly collapses from exhaustion, but catches herself on the table the girl was resting on. "Good job. Your first test was a success" is all the scientist says while scribbling furiously in his notes.

One would think that Dantier woke her up by the way she twitched when he had gotten close. The loud motor made it hard to concentrate and the drugs that were put in her system certainly didn't help. Did they giver her a larger dose after knocking her out with chloroform? She couldn't tell and was too tired to care. Five more minutes... but no matter how much she wanted to, she couldn't bring herself to fall back asleep. Ever so slowly, she starts becoming aware of the multiple auras around her. San, Jaxon, Erin, Lediana, and Jordan were all close by. But she could sense another familiar one... Dantier?

Her body twitches again, but she doesn't move. Not yet. She would continue to act like she was still unconscious until she understood the situation. She could sense other unfamiliar auras nearby. She moves her hands slightly, only to feel that they were tied behind her back. She releases a frustrated sigh and tries to focus on her power now. She was still running on fumes. That would be a problem- while her wounds were minor she was still injured. But her own wounds weren't what was most concerning to her, she could sense multiple injured people around her. One in particular had extremely bad wounds. She couldn't heal them all by herself! Would her comrades- her friends die because she was still too weak? No matter how hard she tries to fight it, tears slip down her cheek. She suddenly gives up, she no longer focuses on trying to deceive the others. She suddenly screams out her fury and kicks her leg out, wincing when it loudly hits a wall.

"Where are you!" She screams out. "Come out cowards! I'll kill you for this!" These people took everything from her! She had no choice in complying. Things only got better when she escaped... Just when she thought she was safe she had been forced to return. Now the last few people she cared about were going to potentially die- if not here, then maybe wherever they were being sent. Was this some cruel game to them? What torturous place were they being sent to? "What!? Are you scared! Come face me!" She shouts. But of course, her enemies didn't come. She doubt the people behind this were even close by. She continues laying in her spot, breathing ragged breathes and chocking back tears. "I'm sorry" she whispers to nobody in particular.

*Grimm would finally get the rope off of her hands. She knew she had to act fast. She began to go towards Dantier. She had to finish wrapping his wounds.*

*Grimm approached Dantier, with her bag in hand. She now began to take in the details now that she wasn’t stressed out. He had green eyes with black hair. He was badly injured around his left calf. A gunshot wound protruded from one side and out the other. Grimm would check to see if her text to speech application worked* “May I continue with my work?” A female robotic voice asked, the sound coming from Grimm’s handheld speech bot.

---

Chip wakes up, no memory of what happened before. His head hurt like hell. He looked around and groaned. "Where the hell are we?" He asked outloud, to no one in particular. Then memories flew back at him suddenly. A cloth. . . I lost unconsciousness. . . . Elena. . That name. Chip's memories had slowly been unlocked and picked at and that name hit him in the gut. His eyes hadn't adjusted yet so he was just sitting there in the dark, in the silence, trying to beckon his memories closer.

---

Jaxon was second to last for the jump, his commanding general having already gone ahead. However, as he was readying to leap from the helicopter one again, he felt hands settle on him, jerking him backwards. An arm went around his neck, a cloth over his mouth and nose. Jaxon held his breath as best he could, but the scent of the chloroform slowly, creeping and odd, made its way into his nostrils, even as the helicopter turned to fly away again. The fingers pinched over his nose quickly, the arm around his neck quickly vanishing, instead jabbing two fingers into his side. He gasped quickly, an instant, uncontrollable reaction. After that, there was no resistance.

Waking up, he was greeted by hellish noise, and pure darkness. There was weight on top of him, another body. He couldn't tell who it was, only that there was movement around him. He went perfectly still, allowing himself to simply be carried along. He couldn't move yet, his body numb and unmoving because of the weight atop him. He heard shouting, suddenly, screaming, kicking, crying. It was Bree. It was Bree. Suddenly, the man fought against his bound wrists, gritting his teeth and working his wrists viciously, his breath coming out in strained pulses, sending saliva out in a spray before him. It sounded as though he were trying to pry open a steel case, his arms popping once, twice, three times each. After a few hard minutes of straining, Jaxon started to hear the satisfying sound of popping strings, the rope around his wrists slowly coming undone. His strength was waning though, slowly draining through the silent battle. Bracing himself as best he could, Jaxon flexed his shoulders and bent his arms as far as he could, twisting the rope violently. With a wrathful cry, he felt the ropes snap. His enraged roar echoed in the small space only a moment, leaving Jaxon panting quietly.

"Welcome back." Rey's eyes snapped open. He was back in the marble palace, with the flickering candles, cracked marble floor, and obsidian pillars. The stone chair lay in the middle, with the young woman chained to it. Compared to the previous encounter, many of the chains had already been snapped, metal rings laying on the floor. But countless more remained. "You will wake up soon, and you don't have the strength right now to free me yet." Rey looked at the woman, heavily chained, smirking but had a tinge of sadness in her eyes. "Who are you?" he asked. "Funny question. I am you, well, not technically. You are me. My name is Reyna, the one who's been keeping you alive all this time." The palace started crumbling and softening, making Rey sink into the bottomless pit that used to be the smooth marble floor. "Ah, you're waking up, see you soon, next time we meet, let's hope it's by will." "WAIT, what did you mean when you said You are me". Reyna smiled, and opened her mouth to speak, but Rey had already gone.

He opened his eyes, only to see white. It was suffocating, yet calm. Was he dead? No, that's impossible. The dream he had felt too real. He sat up, the white cloth that covered his whole body fell of his face. The place was dark, and was as cold as the marble palace he saw in his dreams. People were speaking. Some were screaming. Was that Bree?" Rey's arms were handcuffed to the bed. "Good god, you're supposed to be dead!" exclaimed some guy in a jacket, probably a scientist. Rey ignored him, given that there was no logical way to reply him. Grabbing a random lab coat from the table beside him, he put on the coat and looked around. Many others he was acquainted with was in the room, some still unconscious, some just sitting hopelessly. The person in the plague mask was going around attending to the wounded. Speaking of wounds, all of Rey's stab marks had been healed, undoubtedly Reyna's doing. Dantier was sitting down, arms tied behind his back, but undoubtedly alive. Thank goodness. They were captured, but at least they were alive, for now.

---

Grey felt a strange sense of deja vu as he jumped from the plane, but that deja vu probablly came from the hundreds, no thousands of times that he had done this before. He was sick of it, and yet he loved it. A familiar routine that he could embrace more easily then the constant pain that he went through. He checked the straps, tighetened his guards, then jumped. The parachute slowed his fall. Just like always.

But as he went to take his posistion in battle, he heard the thud of boddies dropping. No. This wasn't supposed to happen. Not like this. Not all at once. "What the hell is going on?" he said aloud, but then, he felt a heavy arm grab him from behind. This was not okay. He immieadiently twisted the arm, causing it to cringe, and wrenched it away, taking a few thundering steps forward, but then the attacker grabbed his legs, causing him to fall flat on his face. He twisted around and only caught the glimpse of a mask before the clorophrom took over and he fell unconcious.

When he awoke, he was limp on the ground, and it took him only a minute to realize that he was tied up, the rope's fibers laced with mesh to keep him from moving too much. Then, he took note of his surroundings as he managed to sit up some. There were people..some he recgonized, some he didn't. "Guess I got reassigned," he joked weakly.

---

"Guess I got reassigned." Chip heard someone say, but he couldn't decide if the voice was near or far. "Pshh. I think this is more than a reassign-ing." He said sarcastically, then attempting to stand up. He got dizzy while doing so, and instead of being patient and waiting for it to overcome him he just plopped back down. He found his hands tied together. Chip, not being familiar with knots or bindings, just struggled to break free. He fought back the urge to growl in frustration, instead just sitting there. Quietly. Elena. . Elena . . Elena . . The name bounced through the darkness of his own mind.

Kicking; screaming; yelling. All these sounds bombarded his eardrums, making them ring and echo. Sounds of torture, pain. Someones being taken away.

---

Andrea was fighting, blood splattering left and right, as she twisted someone’s ankle and literally ripped it off from their body. She was doing considerably well, having long gotten the information needed from Blue’s base, and returned to help fight the battle, when suddenly, someone came up behind her and tried to put a chloroform filled cloth onto her mouth and nose. She struggled, kicking the guy with all her strength, but for some reason— perhaps that guy was made out of stone, he didn’t even flinch. She was overcome by the suffocating smell, before she passed out.

A while later, she woke up, with thick heavy metal chains around her wrists. Really? She shook it a little, then had a proper look around. Dantier? Bree? Erin? San? Chip? Grimm? Jaxon? What on earth was going on? They were all there, the ‘superhumans’ no matter whether they were red or blue. “You might want to hurry up, and get your restraints back on, however loosely or sloppily you want. The instant they see you unchained, unrestrained, I’m pretty sure the consequences will rain down like hellfire.” She suggests, in a whisper. Twisting her hands, she dislocated it with a pop, twisting it out of the chain, to look at it. It seemed fine, it wasn’t infected. That meant she couldn’t have been chained up for very long. She twists her hands again, and slips it smoothly back in the cuff with a whole lot more snapping and cracking and other awful sounds that sounded like her bones were breaking.

---

A sudden enraged roar drains the fight out of Bree. She knew exactly where the furious cry came from. Something about Jaxon being here calmed Bree. Everything will be alright, Jaxon is here. Slowly things start to become clear. These people had stupidly put their strongest lab rats in a room together. Maybe they stood a chance if a possible fight occurred?

But were they drugged? Bree couldn't pin point what it was, but for some reason, she found that something was making her have very minimal access to her power. Was she the only one feeling like this? Slowly, she releases a shaky breath and sits up, wincing slightly as she does so. Why did her ribs feel sore? Did she get injured at some point? Why couldn't she remember?

"Jaxon?" She asks out loud. "Where are you? Are you okay?" She tries to focus on finding his aura. She lets out a relieved sigh when she realizes that he was close and for the most part, seemed to be uninjured.