It was cold, and she was afraid. Mud clung to the torn rags that were her clothes and it clumped together in her once beautiful, fiery hair. She huddled against the wall of her pen, which was rather small; barely six feet wide and just about seven feet long. She rubbed her globe of a belly, feeling the restless movements of the child within. She whined when a rather rough kick hit her bladder.
Koriand'r wanted to cry. She wanted her parents, she wanted the child out of her (though she couldn't deny that she already loved the baby, despite the circumstances) and she wanted to go home. She tried her best to comfort the unborn infant squirming within, but it was almost as if the babe didn't speak Kori's mother tongue. Rubbing her swollen belly didn't even calm the child, it only seemed to make things worse. She heard snorting laughter, and turned to glare at her captors as they mocked the young pregnant girl, taunting her with various obscenities. Just nine months ago, she had been given the 'joyous' promotion of being a breeder, and her captors had inseminated her with the seed of some other life form. Kori could tell that, like her, the baby was humanoid; though not completely Tamaranian. She bit back a soft cry as a small bit of pain washed through her being, but she comforted herself. She didn't know what would happen as soon as the baby made its arrival to the world, but she knew deep down that she did not want to part with the child. A slight weight had just begun to press against her pelvis, but she brushed it off as nothing- her bright emerald eyes locked on the orb that had once been a flat, toned stomach.
Warmth spread between her legs, and she frowned, confused, when all of a sudden the shocking pain hit her.
Koriand'r screamed, arching her back slightly. Her captors, though slightly shaken, seemed rather apathetic that the girl had gone into labor. She begged them for help as the pain intensified, a heavy and angry pressure stabbing against her pelvis, but they refused to move. She gasped for air, her lower stomach burning fiercely. Her muscles contracted, and she let out another pained cry. The weight shifted lower, but just barely. She was lying on her side now, her legs parted as best she could manage through the blinding pain, and then it hit her that her orangish skin was painted with crimson. She screamed again, though more out of fear than pain this time as the baby's weight shifted further down her birth canal. Her nails dug furiously into the dirt again as she continued to push, sweat beading her forehead. Something had left her lower regions, now resting against the dirt, but Kori was too afraid to look to see what it was. Then, almost all at once, something ripped free of her with a rush of fluids. That's when the guards came, forcing Kori to stay down. The baby had begun to wail, and some tired thought about the infant's lungs being strong left the young mother's mind. But the moment was short lived.
"Please," Kori pleaded, sobbed, "Let me hold her just once."
Her captors, however, ignored her with blatant disregard. They cared not for Koriand'r or her sake, nor did they truly care for Koriand'r's child. She watched them with wide, tearful eyes as they carried the infant, who was still covered with its birth blood, to another. The 'other' was a cloaked and masked male, all in black. The eye sockets of the male's mask (and Kori could tell it was a male due to the masculine figure the person had, not to mention that the male was human) were an angry, malicious red. Beside the male stood a female, a bit shorter than Koriand'r by perhaps one or two inches, with a rather cherubic face and shocking bright eyes the color of ice crystals. The baby's eyes matched the strange female's oddly well. The female, however, had a scar that tore across her face from the right eyebrow to the left part of her jaw. It seemed to fit the stranger's warrior-like appearance. This female was not human, or at least not completely. Kori could sense her strength, her influence.
Koriand'r realized her observations were worthless. She would never see that infant again, she would never see the female or the masked one again. It was a bittersweet thought; becoming rid of a child, who she had not wanted yet had found herself dreaming of, to two complete strangers.
Koriand'r watched them leave as the last of her strength left her tired and worn body, though she saw the female look back.
Kori knew the glance, however, meant nothing.
The infant's crying was becoming unbearable. Did Enoch seriously believe that the child, who he had paid for to breed Sollinn with the Tamaranean girl, could take over anything? And must Enoch keep the babe in such proximity to Sollinn herself? The nephilim didn't need a child as a distraction. It meant nothing to her, she had not carried it. Perhaps it shared her DNA, but the child still meant nothing.
The crying, however, became more persistent and urgent. Sollinn uttered an enraged growl, standing. Technically she was not allowed outside her chambers after the facility had been shut down, but if that damned baby was going to keep crying Sollinn was not staying to let the infant scream its lungs out. Sollinn walked to the infant's room, located just a few yards from her own, navigating the dark corridors with ease. She had snuck out often as a child, when she was young and rebellious.
Before she knew Enoch's true goal.
Sollinn tore the infant's door open, her eyes red with exhaustion. "Can't you be quiet?" Sollinn's silk voice asked, a soft growl to it as she stared down at the baby and the baby stared right back, its tiny eyes filled with tears. When Sollinn spoke, the baby quieted slightly- but Sollinn's tone only made the baby begin to cry again, harder this time. Perhaps as a last resort, Sollinn scooped the baby into her arms and held it close.
"You are too small to be this upset." Sollinn declared sternly. The baby quieted once in Sollinn's grasp, hiccupping softly. "Don't get used to this. I am not your mother."
Aren't you, though? Sollinn consciously chided herself.
"No." She muttered aloud, but only to herself. She rocked the baby a bit, staring at it. "I suppose you are a little cute." She admitted. "But cute does not help you in this world."
A long silence settled over Sollinn and the now silent infant. "Perhaps you need a name, hm?" She asked, but then hesitated. She did not know the infant's gender. "I shall simply call you Nyx," Sollinn decided, "I suppose that will suffice for now." Having quieted the infant, she went to set it down- but it only began crying again.
"I thought we were beyond that." Sollinn chided. "Be quiet, I need my sleep." Every attempt to settle the baby back down, however, ended in tears and Sollinn's disapproval.
So, in the morning, the scientists found the half-angel holding the hybrid baby in her arms, having fallen asleep against the wall. They debated shaking Sollinn awake, though they knew the nephilim tended to be a bit... grouchy when woken by others. Enoch, however, had no plans in allowing Sollinn peace or to sleep in. He strode into the room, standing tall and proud. His black armor shone, red lines interconnecting on the metal surface. He had gone without his mask for the moment, his dark brown eyes cruel and narrowed. He could of been ageless, his face showed no signs of age and he appeared twenty, though he was truly nearing his forties. Stubble painted his slightly sunken cheeks. "Sollinn!" He growled sharply, kicking his steel boots into the side of her hip.
"The hell-?" Sollinn whimpered in pain, though she had succeeded in protecting her- or the- infant. The baby, Nyx, squirmed awake at the sudden jolt, its eyes filling with tears.
"You came into her room?" Enoch demanded. "I thought you would not claim her as your own?" He was almost mocking in his words.
"It is a she?" Sollinn asked, trying to pretend as though she did not care. "The child is not mine, I will not claim her." She added with a sniff, standing. She set the infant back into its bed, despite the infant's protesting sobs. She wants her mother, Sollinn thought to herself, but she kept her eyes on Enoch. "I.. dubbed her Nyx. That is the one thing I would like to contribute."
Enoch's eyes hardened a bit. "I will only allow you the name. The child is my property now, my experiment. I trust you will not stand in my way."
Sollinn watched Enoch for a bit. She had questioned him once, but never again. He had been the one to give her the scar. "I will not question you. I will not be in the way." She lowered her head and gaze.
"Good." Enoch raised his chin. "Dr. Young, grab the infant. The age acceleration will run smoothly, I trust? We will need her for the mission as soon as possible." He turned to leave, his steps echoing through the halls. Dr. Young, a female, grabbed the baby and held her close to her chest. Sollinn watched, but she did not make a move to stop Dr. Young.
"Part Tamaranian, part human, part angel." Another scientist murmured in wonder, "Who do you think she'll take after?"
The scientists murmured among one another, perhaps taking bets, but Sollinn ignored their chatter. Perhaps she owed it to the Tamaranian girl, though she did not know why, to raise the... their?... child. To protect her. She sucked in a breath, and decided to follow Enoch.
Sollinn knew it had not been right to tamper with Nyx's genes, or with her hormonal patterns or growth. But had Enoch cared? Of course not. Why would Enoch care? Nyx was not his own, she was Sollinn's.
She was the Tamaranian girl's.
Nyx was only five, yet... there she lay, her eyes- the eyes she had inherited from her half-angel mother- closed, resembling (physically and mentally) a girl of around sixteen or seventeen. She had grown muscular, perhaps she had inherited that trait from Sollinn as well, but the skin tone- a mix of pale white and a bit of an orange tan- was a nice blend of Sollinn's and the slave girl's. The hair was also a blend, Sollinn's blonde and the slave's red. It was quite a few shades paler than the slave girl's, with some blonde streaks but still a bit reddened. The age acceleration had been completed within a couple weeks, the rest of the growth had come naturally and with a bit of time. The tubes and wires connected to Nyx, however, were new. Enoch was tracking her brain waves, her thought patterns, her intelligence, and also her prowess. The needles on the machine Nyx had been attached to were running high, perhaps nearly tipping the scale- whatever the 'scale' was. Sollinn watched, curious yet a bit angered. This was the first Sollinn had seen of her daughter in quite some time, as Enoch preferred to keep Nyx close to himself. The girl was unconscious at the moment, kept asleep by a few different drugs- the same drugs in which were holding her powers at bay.
"Sollinn and the Tamaranian were quite the match." Dr. Young commented, watching the machine needles peak and make odd noises. Sollinn didn't know what they meant, nor did she truly want to know, as she turned her gaze to the hybrid girl and listened.
"Yes." Enoch agreed, studying Nyx, then glancing back at Sollinn, "They were. Her powers have grown, she is getting stronger."
"Dr. Young, when shall we allow the little monster to run loose?" He ignored the sleeping Nyx now, and he ignored Sollinn as well.
"I'm guessing soon," Dr. Young said, "But.. she will need training. Her powers are rather strong and a bit unstable due to her mixed heritage, but-"
"No." Enoch said simply.
"No?" Dr. Young asked, confused.
"We are turning her loose." Enoch said. "She knows so little anyhow, but she is our catalyst. She will bring the first target of heroes to their knees."
"And that target is...?" Dr. Young asked, a bit confused.
"The Teen Titans." Enoch said simply. "Sollinn."
Sollinn glanced up at him, frowning. "Hm?"
"Among your abilities is invisibility, isn't there?" Enoch asked, sounding a bit bored.
"Yes, but-"
"Good." He did not allow his charge to finish her sentence. "She means nothing to you, correct?"
"I.." Sollinn knew not of what to say. "Yes." After a moment's hesitation.
"Good." Enoch repeated. "Sollinn, you will trail her, but you will not make contact. Understood?"
"Enoch, I-"
"Understood?" His tone grew firm. Sollinn bit her tongue, offering a nod. She did not want to make him angry, but she wanted to protect the child.
"Understood." Sollinn said finally.
Enoch offered a smile. "Good girl, Sollinn." He turned to leave.
"Enoch." He turned, an eyebrow quirked. "You do not own me." Sollinn said.
"Yes." Enoch said, smirking. "I do."