Aaron: Laments of the Forgotten By: DJ Hansen

by Dreadboy1992

Inspired by Piers Anthony and the makers of Devil May Cry. Mystery, Drama, action, adventure, and a good plot for you. In a world that is overpopulated, and the struggles of the men that inhabit it. These are the first three chapters. Enjoy. Comment.

Aaron: Laments of the Forgotten

Written By: Douglas Gene Hansen J.R.

Chapter 1: The Passage

A cool breeze ran over the ground, carrying small particles of rock and singed grass, across the craggy ground. Aaron closed his eyes and let its cool touch wash over his face. For some odd reason his entire world was askew (Besides the ringing in his ears, and, the interesting view of the landscape.). This small pleasure was short lived though. He looked about again and took in the world around him. For some odd reason all of the worlds majesty was evident to him. It was more evident than the situatution that was occurring at the moment. He simply enjoyed what he saw.

Beauty everywhere his eyes rested. This "beauty" served to prove that perhaps in this entire universe... that there was a god, or at least, "something" watching over them. Aaron could only hope. The wind blew again, bending grass and tree branches with its passing. Deep hues of green and brown covered most of Aaron's field of vision. The grass moved like the sea before him as the earth breathed, stealing his breath, in his wonder. He loved it all. It was something so perfect, so infinite, that he was sure that he would be aware of a higher presence.

Well, in a sense anyway. He had so many questions marching about in his mind like annoying little ants. It made it hard to concentrate on the situation at hand. Well...if there was a situation a hand. Why was the moon white? Was it the reflection of the sun's light on its sands? Why was it not blue or green? Why was Mars not white and the moon red? If the moon's reflected light was red tinted instead of clear how would it affect our world?

He sighed mentally and tried clearing his mind. His thoughts were inextricably muddled. There was a high pitched noise that was bothering him. This annoyance was partially the reason for his "coming to his senses", after all, it was very annoying.

Aaron ran his swollen tongue over, cracked, and dried lips. He was very thirsty…he would need to find water. Again he gave himself a mental slap and pondered the reason for his confusion.

Concentrate!

There was a metallic tang in Aaron's mouth, bringing rise to other questions. He set those aside for later. In the meantime Aaron focused on gathering his bearings. His mind was still in a whirl, analyzing everything and anything it could to process the situation.

The sharp ache of clenching his quivering jaw muscles (due to the metallic tang in his mouth) helped bring clarity to his mind. He focused on the sound of his own breathing and blocked out the high pitched noises that assaulted his ears. Closing his eyes he became aware of another presence pressing against his own.

Almost immediately there was a mild sense of vertigo that swelled in his head until it threatened to make him vomit. At that moment he realized why his face hurt and one side felt stabbing sensations. He had been lying on his side. These feelings gave Aaron the will to push himself to his hands and knees. He was aching all over. With a clumsy hand he brushed pebbles and dirt from the side of his face. He scraped at the crust on the side of his face and felt something hot run over his hand. He looked down and realized he was covered in blood. For a few moments he stared at his hand dumbly, as if, it were someone else's hand. Blood?

The high pitched noise he realized was not his ears but the sound of sirens and screaming people off in the not to

distant distance. He looked around him. Aaron was sitting in a small crater that had been blasted into the ground. About him cars were flipped and many of them were twisted or crushed. It was a scene of mass carnage. One of such cars stood before him. It was a mass of twisted metal and asphalt. Aaron blinked.

Small fingertips lay peeking out of the car the person they belonged to, crushed. Little rivulets of blood trickled down from the wreckage towards Aaron. He lurched away from it and, looked around him at the screaming people. He sat on a battered part of a bridge suspended over water surrounded ,cars, on all sides. It was more than a hundred yards to the nearest side. Some people were already in the process of leaving but many simply stood there and watched in horror.

The bridge groaned alarmingly and shuddered as the wind blew. Aaron clambered to his feet the first thought in his mind, the people. They would all die if he did not do something! The evacuation of the bridge wasn't happening fast enough, and some of the people were stranded by panicked crowds.

Aaron forced himself to move. His body ached to its very core. He could not even muster a groan. There was just so much smoke in the air it was hard for him to breathe and it made him want to cough. What had happened here? That didn't matter now. There were people he had to save. Well those that he could save… There had to be something he could do!

As he walked towards the people, their, faces widened in terror. Every step he took brought more clarity to his mind, a reason to move. Sadly he did not realize why they were so frightened.

"Stay calm I'll help you get out of here." Aaron spoke in as calm a voice as he could muster. That was when he realized the people weren't looking at him. They were looking at something behind him. There was a loud snapping noise followed by a very bass twang, something large, like a giant guitar string was breaking.

Aaron turned around to see what it was, but, as he did he realized something dreadful. For some reason his death was imminent. Imminent in his mind would mean that, his death was swiftly approaching. Aaron had enough time to highly doubt that the actual deity "Death" was out to get him. It was more that he felt someone or something was after his well being.

No what he saw was indeed not the Grim Reaper. No…a man in a fine suit gestured at a steel support along the bridge. It was Kyle… Never his friend… he was someone he never should have saved. But then again he wouldn't have been able to sleep with himself at night if he hadn't. Damned consciences. Ominously the support snapped pulling Aaron from his thoughts. The bridge lurched again. The man then turned towards Aaron and swept an arm out lazily at him. A blast of concussive force blasted Aaron from his feet and sent him flying. He tumbled to the ground and hit with a sick thud. Aaron cried out in pain and clutched his side. Cars rolled to a stop next to him. He threw himself out of the way as one literally landed were he once lay. Aaron moaned in pain. There was not a doubt in his mind that more than one of his ribs had snapped. This only complicated measures further as he was forced to take shallow breaths. More people were screaming.

Someone was speaking to him. It was the same man in the suit that spoke to him. He was the man Aaron had comforted in the dark when they were younger. This man was also most likely the reason that these people were screaming. Why weren't they running for their lives? The damn fools!

"Were is the fire you had, Aaron? Get up!" Kyle shouted. "This is the part were you stand and miraculously stop me. Maybe if you were actually a low C-rank you would have done better. Not that you really had a chance against me. Don't let me fool you into implying such a thing. From what I have seen you aren't much more than one of these worms. Honestly I had expected much, much more from you."

A hand reached under and lifted Aaron by his tattered shirt till he was face to face with his assailant. The man was pale, a fair complexion, with raven hair and jet black eyes.

"You and I are more alike than you know Aaron. I had really looked for a test of my abilities. You, after all ,were the one whom made me into a god or at least taught me. I was always a god…" He muttered the last part.

He did not blink even with the smoke. His eyes peered into the depths of Aarons mind, almost, literally. His expression reminded Aaron of a scientist peering at an insect pinned to a display with needles.

He knew that look all to well… and it enraged him.

Aaron clenched a fist and used whatever strength and willpower he had left in his tattered body, and, channeled it into one last punch. Kyle, not, much older than himself, caught his fist in his free hand. He squeezed Aaron's fist with an impossible strength. There was a cracking noise and again Aaron cried out in pain. This time though his cry of pain turned into a scream, as the knuckles and fingers of his hand were pulverized.

He pulled Aaron's ear close to his mouth spoke.

"You dared challenge me? I will make my mark on this city. I will grant you one small victory though. I will make you a symbol, a martyr." The man rose him up as he spoke. "They will hate me, hate me and fear me, but most of all though… they will fear me. From their fear, I will have their undying respect. I will bend them. And if they do not bend… then I will break them." The man intoned.

Aaron chuckled through his agony. "You are a fool. You choose violence just because you are impatient to try other ways." Aaron said in a hoarse voice. "You haven't learned one thing."

"And what is that?" Kyle asked in a quiet voice, eyes set in slits.

"You don't understand that these people have yet to understand us. They have yet to achieve what we have been given. We cannot erase them because they cannot see the truth."

The man sighed in irritation.

"Look ,Aaron it is okay. Look at the faces of the countless people watching us in this one moment that will be known for coming centuries. Look into the faces of the people that you are defending."

Aaron balked at the mans word. His words were the truth. Kyle brought up something that Aaron had tried to ignore. He hoped that this man did not bring to light what he sought so hard not to see.

"Yes. Indeed I too did indeed did not wish to accept this truth. I have delved into the minds and hearts of the people of this city. There is not one person that does not have potential to become corrupt or to ruin an others life. They lie constantly and a majority of them are rapists and killers. There is so much darkness… Let me be the light. You may see a monster… but I assure you…

Once I cleanse this world of its sins I will lay down my arms. Not until I have changed this world though. You see they hate us. We are an abomination to them…

They had hoped in our struggle against one another that we would extinguish one another. But as you can see that has not happened. We will always be something to be contained, something to be locked away.

Look into the abyss. Look into their eyes Aaron. The eyes of darkness."

Aaron tried to deny this, his truth was infallible. On another note Aaron found himself believing what the man was saying. The truth was inevitably the truth and undeniable. Then at that moment Aaron did the one thing that shattered his soul to its core.

He looked into their eyes.… and something inside of him died.

He forgot why he was fighting.

An eternity seemed to pass as he looked into the eyes of the people. The whole of them looked upon him with condescending eyes, full of hateful, judgment. There was a singular emotion that covered every man and woman's face. They all looked frightened, frightened and disgusted.

It was true. They all wanted him dead. None of them saw a man fighting for what was right. They saw a monster fighting a monster.

His opponent felt the change in his person and saw it in Aaron's eyes. Aaron's eyes were that of a man resigned to death. Aaron's hands fell away from Kyle's choking embrace. He felt that if he could not be accepted by them how could he accept himself? Why live? They hated him… and he hated himself just as much for what he was, and what he represented. He was an abomination. The law of nature was exacting its order on the unworthy.

Kyle lifted Aaron higher and higher as if he were no more than a struggling kitten. He chuckled blandly.

"You see the truth now. We are destined for the same end. Why not make a place for ourselves in this world? You see now how futile it was to reason with me? You… not even a "C-caliber" shifter. Why try to stop the inevitable. Even more so you try to reason with me? An imbecile like you? My mind is old. But I will grant you the satisfaction of knowing that I think you are a fool, a dead one, granted… but you are a brave one. This city is next.

Remember me. Remember Kyle Delonas. Remember that you were not good enough. Do not despair I will free you."

With a flick of his wrist, Kyle sent Aaron flying through the air like a rag doll. Mercifully, Aaron went into a state of shock as he flew through the air. His body sent signals indicating pain but that part of his brain had shut down to prevent any further damage.

The last he remembered was the icy embrace of the water. The feeling of weightlessness. As if he was already dead. Finally a release. So Aaron finally let go and sank into the bottom of the river, dragged along by the fast flowing current.

He thought to himself, I don't want this anymore. Take it all away. Make my pain go away… God… Someone…

Aaron could feel bits and pieces of himself deteriorating and finally altogether disintegrating. It wasn't painful. It was release. Each time a little of what he was faded away he hurt a little less.

Down in this icy and dim world, his haven, he drifted. Bubbles drifted from his nostrils. They were his only reminder that he was dying, drowning.

I'm not dead yet? He thought in a muddled irritation. The cold had begun to seep into his body and cloud his thoughts. His discomfort belonged to someone else it seemed. He stirred slightly as his feet dragged along the bottom of the river as he hit a shallow part before being whisked away again. Finally all the heart and pain in his heart broke away… so much so he did not wonder about the empty feeling in his heart. He had forgotten why he was in the river.

Am I not dead yet? When is it going to be the end? I wish to die. His body persisted in its will to live.

He could not longer remember what he wanted to die for and after awhile, he was unsure whether or not he was dead or not. Aaron was content just to drift away. Aaron mentally clutched his name, as a drowning man clutched driftwood.

Aaron.

I am Aaron.

Aaron.

These words floated in his mind like a mantra. This was the only remaining part of his persona that would not die.

Oddly down in those dim, icy, waters he was vaguely aware of strong arms wrapping around his waist, the strong threshing of legs beneath his. Gentle hands passed his shattered body down along a small procession of people. He was laid down and forced to breath again if only for a few moments. "My god his ribs are broken! Get a doctor!" Aaron gasped and threw up more blood than water.

"Someone is either very cruel, or is watching over this man." Someone murmured.

"My god! Oh my god! Look at his arms and legs!"

"Shut up! Get him covered till the ambulance gets here."

"Were did he come from?"

"Maybe he fell from the sky?" Asked a frightened child's voice. The voice said again touching Aaron's hand. "He's cold!"

"Don't touch him he's in a lot of pain."

"Sorry."

"No. he came from up the river. He might be from the New Fall's Disaster."

"I thought they all died?"

"Evidently not."

Aaron stirred listlessly as his shallow breaths became more and more ragged with each passing second.

"Well evidently he still has some life still left in him. Lets get him inside."

"I really don't think that's a good idea, considering he floated down the river. For all we know he could be a killer that escaped from the authorities." Said another voice.

"You would let him die?"

"Look at him! He should already be dead!"

"A life is a life. As I have always told you and will continue to tell you. It is our duty as fellow human beings and good Samaritans to try at least to save him… Even if the best we can provide is a warm bed for him to die in."

"What is all this discussion about?" asked a deep gruff voice. It was someone important, because, every voice instantly went silent at its sound.

For a few moments not a sound was to be heard aside from running water and the shivering intakes of frozen breaths.

"We found this man while we were on our way to the docks. He was floating face down when we saw him. We thought he was a log or some dirt, but then he moved. So I grabbed Lacy and we hollered and grabbed some people to fish 'em out."

"You did a good thing Joe." The commanding voice said. "Go get cleaned up before you catch pneumonia. I will take him to the hospital."

Aaron was lifted gently.

"You really think this is a good idea? We could push him back in or leave him here and pretend nothing ever happened."

"Yes and in fact he'll stay with you and Cherry. The local physician will tend to him there till we can get him to a local hospital. If he survives this he will be staying with you."

"You can't be serious ,try, and be reasonable John!"

"Shut your mouth Montag! You do not have the right, nor, the authority to call me by my first name. I am Norre to you only. You will listen to me for once in your life. This man will have your guest room if he survives this." Said the voice of Norre sharply.

"Yes sir." Grumbled Montag.

Aaron's breath gave out once again and all was silent and black.

"Clear!" There was a sound of beeping. Electricity surged through Aaron's body and the smell of ozone pervaded his nostrils.

"Give me another charge! His hearts stopping again! 3! 2! 1! Clear!" Another wave of electricity rocked Aaron's body. He managed to open one of his eyes. Wires were connected to him everywhere. A masked doctor pumped air down his nose and mouth, down his throat. Another doctor had sliced open his shirt and felt his ribs.

"Damn! His left lung collapsed! Its filling up with fluid! Get me an invo-pump and a scalpel!" A nurse passed the doctor the gleaming instruments.

He pressed it against Aaron's side and pulled it down. Aaron barely felt the pain, not even, as the doctor slid a

finger in and pushed aside a broken rib and forced a hollow needled into his lung. "His chest is no worse for wear. We have a third and forth rib fracture, a punctured lung. The rest or broken or bent erratically. I'm going to need a pair of forceps." Hands gently touched his body ,turning, his head ever so slightly.

"Damn! He's bleeding out over here! We have a ruptured femoral artery over here!"

"How's the other one?"

"Contracted. We're going to need stints. Were is my pic line?!"

"Kidney failure over here!"

"We're busy!" Aaron heard a beeping noise. As he closed his eyes there was a beeping noise. Someone felt his pulse and patted his cheek. "Come on! Come on!"

"He's bailing on us again!"

"Are you kidding me? Someone get me some epinephrine!"

Aaron stirred later on… He did not know how long, (not that he had a reason to care in his mind.) Aaron opened an eye. The other was swollen shut. He lay in a room. The room was white washed and smelt stale. It was barren save for a vase of flowers in front of the window. A single clock ticked on the wall, his only, comforting sound. There was a scent of apples and cinnamon coming from the hallway. Underneath the aroma was the smell of death.

The only things that disturbed his quite solace were the sounds of beeping and slow clicking. He looked down at himself and marveled at the casts covering him. Aaron paused and listened as he heard voices outside, speaking, in hushed tones.

"John… I've never quite seen such damage. No human being should be able, nor, allowed to suffer through this much pain. Even with the casts we placed on his arms and legs, I, don't think he'll ever walk or hold a pencil again ,not with the damage, to his brain. Let me pull the plug. If you like I could overdose him on morphine. Anything is better than what he's experiencing. Normally I wouldn't ask, but, this guy is in bad shape. If I weren't a doctor I would call him a miracle, or, some guy that pissed off god and was experiencing the butt of a joke. Well that or a damn zombie."

"There isn't anything you can do for him doc?" The older voice asked. There was a sigh. Not a sigh of frustration but one of sadness.

"I'm afraid not. The best we can do for him is make him comfortable, make the pain bearable. He will die though, without a doubt. Let's pray for a miracle."

The older voice snorted. "Yeah a miracle. What did a man such as this, deserve to die this way?" There was a long moment of silence. As Aaron drifted off he heard softly.

"If he doesn't stabilize by tomorrow morning I'll end it." Said the doctor's voice.

"Your doing the right thing."

"God help me. God help him"

---

That next night the only company that Aaron had was the sound of dogs barking outside, and tree branches against his window. The entire night his mind swam in a wash of pain. The sunrise was a long time coming. When the sun came up Aaron still felt exhausted and drained. At least he felt that he had grown accustomed to the pain. His eyes were swollen shut. Even so he could not open them due to his physical exhaustion along with his mental state. He felt shattered.

Before he had a chance to dwell on his state and why he was there he felt a cool rush of air. A small, cool hand touched his forehead.

"You sleep a lot." Said a little girl's voice. It was the voice from the night before. "Are you really an angel?" Said the voice off handedly. She was carefree and innocent. Her voice struck his core. It was more curiosity than anything else. With sheer force of will he opened one of his eyes and looked slowly about the room, whitewashed and sterile with a TV. mounted in the corner.. The slight motion sent him flying on waves of vertigo. His eyes fell on a girl in a sundress, no older than eleven. She wore a headband over her long brown hair. "They said you survived from that one disaster, upriver. What was it called?" She made a cute face, then it brightened. "I remember! The New Fall's disaster. They say that one of their nuclear reactors went off. There's a lot of stuff getting said. I don't know. I just am wondering though. Are you an angel? Did an airplane hit you? My grandpa Norre says angels are like "Erethral". I don't know what that means though. I know it's something really magical though." She kept touching his face and poking his bruised cheeks trying to get some kind of response out of him.

The room door opened and a very grizzled man walked inside. He radiated authority and power. His face was covered in scraggly gray hairs and scars from past fights. His face could have been carved from stone. He laid a hand on the little girls shoulder. She started a bit and turned hugging the old man. His face relaxed and he patted her shoulder.

"It's time to say goodbye Cherry." Said the old man. It was the voice that belonged to the man Norre.

"We were just talking." She said, frowning. "Well I was doing most of the talking." The phrase elicited a slight sardonic smile from his grizzled face. His smile quickly saddened. Norre had seen much during his life. This was one of those terrible moments that brought his terrible past to the forefront of his mind. Cherry's voice brought him back.

"Why do I have to go? I just wanted to talk a little bit with Mr. Angel."

"Is that what we are calling him now?"

"Well I don't know his name so I figured I could call him that."

Norre chuckled softly and gently led her out of the room. He walked back inside and looked at Aaron's prone form. They made eye contact for a few moments. He then shut the door. Aaron drifted off to sleep, haunted by phantoms of pain and anguish that stemmed from a source, shrouded in darkness.

Norre was slightly surprised. The man had looked him in the eye. Norre had seen it many times before in his service for his country. But even so, he felt that there was some sort of comprehension there. And therefore a human mind still lurking there, trying to adapt and survive. He looked at the watch on his wrist. It was just ten in the morning. The doctor must not have taken him off of life support yet. He might have time before he did just that. He turned to Cherry.

"Hey baby why don't you keep Mr. Angel company while I go look for his doctor?"

"Okay!" She said brightly, skipping into the room.

As soon as the door shut, Norre ran down the hallway. He had pulled out his W.P.U.S. a Wireless Phone Uplink System that resembled a bracelet that was in all actuality a micro-processing factory. He took out the wireless earpiece and extended its mouth piece. He didn't have time to dial it manually on the holo-keypad. He simply used the quick select options by stating his last name. The A.I.S. took care of the rest. An Automated Intelligence System that operated within the set parameters of the user.

"Hello? This is Dr. Rutherford speaking."

"Yeah, well its Norre, were are you now?" He asked as he raced down the hallway.

"In the ICU- are you running right now?" Rutherford asked. Norre sighed in frustration.

"That's irrelevant right now! The John Doe! You remember him ,correct?" He asked rounding a corner, heading towards the ICU. Norre knew the place intimately, as he had been there many times and had visited his long past friends. He was not about to let another person die, especially if he could maybe prevent it.

"Yes? Why?"

"Well he is awake and responding. Do not unplug him."

"That's not possible John." Norre pushed open the double doors to the ICU. Dr. Rutherford stood there. They spotted each other and disconnected.

"This is a mans life! I know things are tough but you don't peg money on his life damnit!" He said grabbing the doctor by the front of his work lab coat.

Rutherford grasped Norre's wrists. "It's not that. I already turned off his support systems at six this morning. He died over an hour ago." Norre's blood went cold. He dropped the doctor, for he had bodily lifted him from the ground, heedless of watching patients and nurse's. No one had stopped him. All of the towns people of Young Rivers knew better than to trifle with Norre when he displayed such emotion, for it was rare, that he ever did.

"What?" Norre said numbly, for he had seen the man look at him.

Dr. Rutherford repeated himself calmly. "We turned off life support over an hour ago and clocked the time of his death." He smoothed out his lab coat. "It was probably just a stray heartbeat that caused his eyes to spasm open. It happens from time to time. And it just so happens that I was just about to go down and send him to the morgue for an autopsy. You can come with if you like.

Later as they entered Aaron's room the doctor was just as astounded upon entering, to see, Cherry chatting with the semi-conscious man.

"It's not possible. It must be a miracle." Dr. Rutherford had said in a faint voice.

John Norre could only agree. A miracle indeed.

As they days turned into weeks, that Aaron survived, more and more doctors from the surrounding country side came to visit and diagnose Aaron's fragile condition. Each said as a whole that he would not make it. And the weeks turned to months and still the doctors did not recant. They only ,said, he was a very stout individual.

Even so Aaron persisted well into that next winter, astounding, many of the physicians and surgeons. All that time though even through the check ups, Cherry visited and spoke with Aaron, whom, quietly and patiently listened to her idle chatter. Even though it was mostly the ramblings of a child, he enjoyed, her presence and the profound sense of her innocence. It had touched him deeper than any wound or blade could scour his body. His condition improved but his silence did not. Once his organs and lungs had healed, his bones, began to grow more stout and to fuse back together. This attracted further attention. His coordination began to improve, he became more aware, of his surroundings. Soon after the local reporters came for questions. In a small town ,a, potential survivor of a national disaster was big headlines. This was the scoop of the century, especially, if he had made such a ,miraculous, discovery.

After February Norre allowed no visitors, save, Cherry, himself, and Dr. Rutherford. Aaron would sit and listen to Cherry and Norre would sit in the corner reading a book for an hour or two each day of the week, or Dr. Rutherford, would speak to him on his progress. He would tell him that the casts would come off soon and that his bones were mending very fine and express his surprise at Aaron's hardy immune system, abundance of white blood cells, and his body's regenerative abilities. Dr. Rutherford just could not put his finger on it. When this was said Cherry would only shake her head and remark. "He's an Angel. Angel's don't die. They get better real fast. Especially when the sun shines on them."

To be honest. After awhile even Dr. Rutherford began to believe the ludicrous remark. Not the angel part. But nevertheless it was nothing short of a miracle.

The months drew on and Aaron remained in the hospital. To be honest he was content to stay there with that little girl and listen to her chat on and on about her day.

"Shelly was sitting next to me and she kept saying that Chad was going out with Britney but I told her that that just wasn't true. Chad is like really quite and he doesn't talk to anyone. He's more quite than you Mr. Angel. Well anyways, she's all jealous, that Chad is going with Britney and not with her. She thinks Chad is cute. I don't know what she sees in the boys at school anyways. Your going to have to meet them sometime. They are all dying to meet you. I'm always telling them about you." She said playing with her hair. She took Aaron's hand, the one no longer encased in a plaster cast. His left arm was taking longer to heal. "Your going to have to come out of here sometime. I feel really bad for saying this. But I'm getting tired of coming to visit you all the time. Why don't you come visit me. You don't have cast's on your legs anymore. I've seen boys with worse at school walking around using crutches." She said. Ironically though Aaron's innocence and lack of memory were nearly on par with the girls. He thought to himself and wondered the same thing.

Why wasn't he out wandering around? He did want to go sight seeing with Cherry, to see, the orchards that Young Rivers was known to be famous for, that, and its water recycling power plants. He pondered this and decided against Dr. Rutherford's advice to sit up. It took nearly iota of his miniscule strength but even so he sat up, encouraged by, Cherry's wide smile. He scooted over slowly, weak as a babe, and set his pale feet on the cold linoleum floor. He shivered and pushed himself forward with his one good hand and stood on his own two feet. He only stood for more than a few seconds before collapsing on his bed, gasping for breath. "Come on I'll help you!" Cherry said grasping his hand and pulling him forward. He stood again and with Cherry's help they made it down the hallway. It was fairly warm that day so he did not feel all that comfortable.

By the time that the wires and needles had pulled free of his skin, their alarms, blaring out flat lines, when the nurses came, to investigate ,they, were already gone.

Norre received the call on his W.P.U.S while he was on his way to pick up Cherry. She usually caught the bus there after school. He had trusted her and the doctors enough to allow this.

"Hello?"

"This is Mrs. Tatum I am the secretary at the Young Rivers hospital. May I speak to a Mr. John Norre?"

"Your speaking with him." Norre said frowning, though, the secretary could not see his face.

"We don't want to alarm you but your daughter and the "John Doe" patient have gone missing from his room. We have reason to believe that they haven't left the hospital, we've, checked all the security feeds." The secretary said. Norre's blood ran cold.

"How long ago was this?"

"Less than thirty minutes ago."

"Damnit! You should have called me when they disappeared!" He shouted into the vocal receiver. He hit the gas peddle and turned his truck around in the middle of heavy after school traffic and sped back to his house.

"We were assuming they went out for a wal-"

"That doesn't mean anything to me! I'll have a talk with your supervisor on duty when I get there. Monitor those damn security feeds this time!" He shouted hanging up on the secretary. He sped off down the highway with all speed.

"Call Montag." He growled to his onboard A.I.S. (automated intelligence system) program. The trucks onboard computers winked on, causing, a see-through holographic projection to appear. His step son's face, Cherry's father appeared. He was looking down at the screen with a frown on his face. He must have been out in the field checking on his parolees.

"Yeah?"

"Get a few guys from the force and head over to the hospital with me. I'm getting my gun." Norre said quickly. "No time to talk. It's your daughter." He said hanging up. Montag would be there with a few of his other fellow cop friends. Norre's step son was just as (if not more) protective of Cherry as was Norre.

He pulled into his driveway and dashed inside of his house. In only three minutes he had taken out and fitted his silenced handgun with an infra-red scope.

Norre met Montag in the hospital parking lot with two other sheriffs armed to the teeth one with a sniper rifle and the other with a tactical assault rifle. Montag had called in a few favors.

They swept the grounds in four different directions based on the tips that other patients and nurses had given them, establishing, a net about the hospital grounds. They checked the grounds and moved inwards, communicating via W.P.U.S., over a closed line.

All in all it took them half an hour to locate the two. Norre received a response, over the communications channel.

"I've got a clean shot on the suspect. Requesting permission to fire." Said the Sheriff.

"Fi-"

"Wait." Norre said cutting off Montag before he could give the order. "Where are they?"

"In the hospital gardens walking around talking."

"Wait there. I know were that is. I want to see the situation for myself." Norre said striding in their direction.

"No take the s-"

"Montag shut up or I will shut you up!" Norre hissed. "The man just got out of bed. I highly doubt he's dangerous. Hell. Cherry could probably take him down herself."

"But-"

"But nothin'." Norre retorted. "You'll wait until I've given the order." Montag's line went silent. The man may have been a Sheriff but he also knew when to listen. If not begrudgingly.

Norre rounded a corridor and went down a flight of steps to the windows that overlooked the garden. The Sheriff whom had notified him had slid open a window and had the barrel aimed at their John Doe. Norre walked over and gestured for him to move aside and looked down the scope.

What he saw warmed his heart and made him chuckle softly to himself. The man was led by his granddaughter, Cherry, as she chattered. She was probably talking about the boys at school and how she hated them; he thought to himself. The man she led shuffled after her was like a lost puppy and hung on to her every word just like one. Norre smiled briefly, a, rare thing for him to ever do. Inside of a sad memory he remembered walking with his wife through that very garden. It was back when he was on temporary leave from the military and his wife was pregnant with their first and only child. Their daughter. It was also the place were they walked daily when his wife had later been afflicted with cancer. He then had left the military to care for his only daughter. He didn't regret though. That was her legacy. Letting him watch their daughter grow up.

His wife and daughter were long gone and his granddaughter was all that remained of them. She walked the same path they had. It was both a sobering and somewhat heartwarming sight to see.

"Tell your men to go home Montag." Norre whispered softly.

"Is she okay? What's going on?" Montag asked quickly with an edge to his voice.

"Their just going for a walk. Their only walking around the garden." He said with a touch of emotion to his voice. "Just a walk on a nice day."

The doctors appeared later and expressed shock at the sight of seeing Aaron, his feet walking around. After all

they, themselves had expressed , that he would never likely walk again. Well never walk again without aid. Dr. Rutherford came behind them and eyed Norre and the sheriff. "See. This was all very unnecessary." The doctor folded his arms over his chest and contemplated the sight. "That little girl really is something."

Norre nodded. "She's got her mothers magic alright." Cherry's mother had had a way with all the creatures and things of the world. She felt and empathized with them in a way Norre had never seen. One day after Norre had gotten off of work he had come home to find his daughter nursing an injured wolfs paw, from the surrounding country side. Those day's they were nearly extinct and very vicious. Upon seeing him, the wolf had fled out the open back door. His young daughter had not realized how much peril she had been in. Now here her grand-daughter, was doing much the same thing. The daughter of her daughter, making a crippled man, walk again.

The increase in population back then had led the government to retract several restrictions on building in protected wildlife parks. The wild animals had not reacted kindly. Even now Norre was ashamed of what his nation had done in order to provide more space to live. Inter-planetary colonization and terra-forming took decades. Hundreds were born in minutes and fewer died. Technology was on the forefront and someone had to pay for an others comfort. He just wished it wasn't drenched in blood. It was part of the reason why Norre had not been ashamed to leave the military on an honorary discharge. He had grown disgusted with the world he had fought for. It had become convoluted. At least here, some of the way the world was meant to be, remained here.

---

Montag walked down the hallway and went out into the garden with two male nurses. He had since holstered his gun. Now he was getting his daughter. Norre and him would have a talk later about letting Cherry talk with stranger, most of all, run off with one. Montag was not a bad man. He was just a bitter man. After the death of his wife, Cherry's mother, he had become very protective of her. As the years passed he had become reclusive. In essence though, he was a good man, nevertheless. They walked out towards the two and Montag waved at Cherry. "Hey honey. It's time to go." He said in his kindest voice. Cherry turned to him and smiled, waving, her other hand holding Aaron's. This sight infuriated Montag.

"Hey dad! This is my friend Mr. Angel." She said smiling brightly. Her bottom lip stuck out. "Can't we stay for five minutes longer? All three of us can talk!" As she talked the two male nurses moved towards Aaron and gently grasped his arms, beginning, to lead him away.

"I know. Maybe later. Your friend needs his rest." Muttered Montag as he walked over and grasped her the arm. Cherry gave a whimper ,as, children do. She did not wish to leave so soon.

Aaron was content to go. As he walked past Cherry he watched Montag ,grab, Cherry's arm. When she made the noise he moved breaking free of the two male nurses, whose grips, were formidable at the least. Though he was still crippled he moved quickly and grasped Montag's wrist. They made eye contact before Montag shoved him back ,causing, him to fall. "Don't touch me!" Cherry grew frightened and began crying. Montag was furious. "See what you did?" He leaned in close to Aaron's prone form. "If you ever touch me or my daughter again I will kill you. That's a promise. This is a small town. I am the law!" He hissed in Aaron's ear. Aaron did not flinch at the threat. He kept his silence, true, to his nature. He looked over his shoulder as the nurses led him away, briefly, making eye contact again.

Norre had seen everything. Dr. Rutherford had spoken with him before he came.

"Well. He can take care of himself now. Now that we have proof that he can react with others in a somewhat healthy matter; he can go home. Frankly, its all, thanks to that little girl of yours and Montag's. Does he have anyone that he knows that can come get him? He won't respond to any of us." Norre was hardly surprised. The man was very quite. He knew that he was relatively healthy mentally, by, the look in his eyes. Norre could tell a man of cunning by his eyes. If anything he knew to stay away from them. But as long as Cherry could trust him; so could Norre. The girl had a knack for finding good people.

He sat next to Aaron on his hospital bed. "Do you have a place to live? Dr. Rutherford says that you are well enough to leave. Pretty soon you will be able get those last two casts off later today." Aaron did not respond to Norre's announcement. The man ran a hand through his gray hair. "How about a name?" Still the typical silence.

Norre turned his head and studied him though. "Since you don't have an answer…As usual…" He murmured this last part. "You can stay with Cherry and Montag until we can get some word of were you live, or, some word from relatives." Norre sighed patted Aaron on the shoulder. He stood and turned to leave. "Montag may be a little "rough around the edges" but he is a good man at heart. He just copes with pain differently. All people do. If you don't understand, you will, one day." Norre opened the door and left. As he opened it he swore he could hear the man whisper behind him, "Thank you." He didn't feel the need to investigate though. There were other things to attend to. Later Norre called Montag well after sundown.

---

"Hello?"

"Yeah its Norre."

"What can I do for you?" Montag asked. There was still a hint of vehemence in his voice, probably, from the events that took place earlier.

"It's about our John Doe."

"What about him?" The tension in his voice was already growing and the conversation had barely started.

"Well he's going to need a place to live and some clothes." Norre was quickly losing his patience.

"What does this have to do with me?"

"Stop playing dumb with me, boy. Sooner or later your going to grow a pair and start living life again. This man needs a place to live. He's a good guy. It'll only be for a few weeks till he can rent an apartment."

"What about my place?"

"Have you seen my place?"

"Good point. But only for a few weeks." Montag said in a quite but harsh voice.

"Good man Montag. Good man." Murmured Norre as he hung up.

Montag sat there in his living room, thinking, in the dark. He rubbed his bruised wrist. That man, their, John Doe. The look that man had given him had shocked him to his core. It was the look of a serial killer. Montag himself had seen how gentle he was with his daughter though. He had just gotten a bit hot headed seeing her taking such a liking to him. Sighing,

he got up, and pulled off his uniform shirt then went and grabbed a beer. Montag sat in the dark, brooding, in the silence. Tomorrow was going to be a terrible day. He just knew it.

---

Aaron rested on his bed as he always did. His cast, on his left arm had finally come off, now, he could finally fold his arms under his head. The day was like any other. A day of staring at the ceiling and watching, tree branches, scrape against the window. He could have watched the TV but he did not like watching the pointless comedies and cartoons ,unless, Cherry wanted to watch it with him. He had already read the bible twice, it did not, make much of any sense to him. They left them in the rooms for patients and their families. Not that he had any, nor, was he worried about one. He was unconcerned with many of the trivial things that people talked about, as they walked, down the hallway.

Even then he did not pay any mind to it. Part of him did not wish, to find out about the outside world. He was content with his peaceful existence here. The only activity he really received was when a nurse brought food for him. They never engaged in conversation. It was always the polite "Good morning.", this would gain, a slight nod from Aaron. There was a patter of footsteps down the hall and a voice calling. "Aaron! Aaron!" It grew in volume as did the patter of footsteps.

Cherry burst into Aaron's room with an exclamation of joy. "Aaron!" She cried. "Lets go home!" She said pulling him, nearly, out of his bed. Aaron looked at the clock on the wall. It was just barely seven in the morning. Truth be told, Aaron, had gotten used to sleeping in. Stifling a yawn, he allowed himself, to be dragged out of bed. Cherry passed him a red flannel shirt, a pair of pants, and shoes. "Put these on so we can go. Its chilly out today." She said, chattering on, about her friends. Aaron shuffled his way to the bathroom, politely pretending, to listen as he always did. Some things he listened about. Mostly the sound of her voice was comforting. She pulled open the bathroom door, just as he had pulled up his pants, the girl had no sense of decency. "Lets go!"

Reaching over she grabbed his arm, forcing him to button his pants, with his left hand. "The doctors said that since you can walk and do stuff with your environment, that, your good to go. Lets go before they change their minds!" With this being said, she pulled open the, rooms door and pulled him into the hallway. The hallway was quite this early in the morning. Montag stood, leaning against the wall, with arms folded over his chest. As usual he was dressed in his law enforcement, uniform.

"Ready to go babe?" Montag asked. Cherry nodded, wrapping her arms, around Aaron's. Aaron looked behind himself to his room. It sounded ludicrous, he knew, but he was loath to leave the quite, unbecoming room of the hospital.

As he walked, Cherry pulling him, he thought to himself. What right did he have to leave this place over everyone else? Until now he had not seen the people outside of his room. Sick or dying people rested in rooms. They each looked and nodded to him. The few doctors and nurses that could take the time to notice him, nodded, to him. They hoped to never see him there again. He knew each of the patients ,wished, that they were leaving this place to be free…or at least to die, free of pain, and suffering.

He had grown accustomed to the white walls of his room and Cherry's visits.

Already he felt overwhelmed with the bustle of doctors and nurses, constantly, circulation through the hospital. Everyone was so busy here. Aaron was led out of the hospital to the front were a car waited. As he stepped out the sliding doors, he paused, and breathed in the chilly air. His breath fogged in the air, creating wraiths, that danced about. Just this small feat of science caused a sensory overload for him, leaving him, standing there, like a fool.

Cherry motioned for him to get in. Aaron could only stare dumbly. To his memory, he had never, ridden in a car. Cherry moved over and opened the door pushing him forwards. Aaron climbed in and sat there with a slight fidget. He did not like cars evidently.

The door shut next to him and Cherry climbed in, along with Montag, into the front seats. "You get to stay with us! You'll get to meet Brady and Ashley…" She chattered on about her friends and the good times they would have. Montag touched the onboard computer screen. It scanned his fingerprint, it flashed green, and switched on the engine. Montag pushed the gas and the began to move, leaving behind, the hospital. Aaron smiled inwardly and leaned his head, against, the window as they drove off.

The landscape itself baffled Aaron. In the distance mountains rose up, in fingers, to touch the clouds. Green grass and trees coated the country side, covered ,in a light sheen of frost. It was majestic and awe inspiring. On the road, cars

weaved in and out of the streets, in many different sizes and shapes with, just as many, colors. Some cars swerved in front of others, eliciting honks of disproval, while others cruised along gracefully. It was a marvel to see science and technology, fitting together, so efficiently. They entered a thickly populated area and cruised along down the streets of, dense traffic, these soon gave way to more rural surroundings. The roads grew more crude and the buildings older. They pulled down a neighborhood street, and into, the driveway of a small house.

Cherry burst out of the car and ran to Aaron's door. She tugged it open and grasped his sleeve. "Come on! I want to show you inside!" The little girl persisted.

Aaron repressed a weary sigh and conceded to the little girls wishes. He wanted nothing more to be shown to his bed. Although he was very excited to see more of this place, he needed, sleep. Excitement and moving about so much, took a lot, out of a man.

She pulled him about the house and showed him the living room, the kitchen, and the bedrooms.

"And this is your room." Cherry said extending a , sweeping hand, out to the room. A single twin bed with a window on the adjacent wall. The walls were a tan color ,only a slight change, in the color of his hospital room. The only difference was ,there were no tree branches scratching on the window, and the floor was covered with a carpet. There was a small closet and a small dresser that served as a night stand, next, to the bed. At least it did not have the smell of cinnamon and apples, the scents used, to cover the smell of sickness and death. "There are some of my dads old clothes in there for you to wear ,until, you can get your own." She said. "Remember the bathroom is down the hall. Hold on. Let me get my things. I got a lot to show you!" Cherry said, walking out, shutting the door behind her. Aaron looked about and seated himself on the edge of the twin bed. For the first time in a long time, he had, time to think to himself. At the hospital there were always nurses or doctors checking in each of the rooms, on their, rounds.

Was he the only survivor of this so called disaster? That was very unlikely. And if so…Then why him? He did not have time to piece together more thoughts as ,the doorknob, turned and Cherry entered. She held a small pocket book and a few sheets of paper. Kneeling down on the floor, she set down the, sheets of paper. There were drawings of angels and different things, flying. She rambled as she always did, "This is you and your angel friends…", she trailed. Aaron honestly looked and listened to part of her descriptions with interest. She turned and passed him the small pocket booklet. It was made of metal and was closed with a little clasp. Cherry reached over and opened it.

It was a data pad with the shape of a booklet, for protection, purposes. There was a small cylindrical orb embedded in the top of it. "This is Atlas. Its an A.I.S. program. It just a computer that does what you tell it to do. You can give it simple orders too." She said. As she spoke the screen flickered and came to life. Words scrolled across the screen.

Please identify user._

Aaron blinked at the screen. He looked over at Cherry for instructions.

"I reset it. All you have to do is touch your thumb to the screen, and speak your name three times in a clear voice, after that type it in." Cherry said. Aaron turned back to the A.I.S. program. He pressed his thumb to the screen. There was a whirring and the screen flashed.

"Aaron. Aaron. Aaron." He said in a clear voice. After this, he typed his name ,in the space indicated, utilizing, the touch screen. The screen went black and flickered for a few moments. Words flickered across the screen. It was eerie, but he reminded himself, that it was a program.

User accepted. Welcome Aaron._

"You can give it spoken or typed orders." She said, nodding, her head to herself. It was as if she was going over it the first time also. "His name is Atlas. Or its name…I don't know. You can program its parameters, whatever that is, but you can make it nicer or more serious. Mine sounded like a little baby." Cherry said with a giggle. "My daddy gave me Atlas, to help me, in my classes and to learn things. You can go online, play games, and even talk about stuff with it though!" She said.

"It isn't very normal sounding though. You can tell its not a real person."

Aaron could understand this. It was a machine after all. He turned back to the A.I.S. booklet. "Hello?"

Hello Aaron. What may this one do for you?_

Aaron tilted his head to the side and looked over at Cherry. She giggled. "Talk to it silly." He nodded.

"Do you feel?" Cherry laughed.

"Why would you ask him that? That's a dumb question."

"I wonder how it perceives the world."

"Huh?" Aaron paused at her word. He had not realized that she still was barely twelve.

"How you see the world." He explained. "That is what perceive means." Aaron was very quite but he listened and learned about everything that went about him. The one thing was that one thing that had kept him company ,were, the voices on the other side of his door and walls.

"Oh." She muttered. "Look its answering back!"

This one does not feel in terms of emotions. This one is a pre-programmed series of responses and logic programs, best suited, to the stress levels, and gait of your voice. My input camera also watches your facial patterns._ It answered referring to its speakers and the orb embedded in the top of it. Aaron nodded.

"But you can understand and comprehend?" He asked.

In a sense. Yes._

Cherry listened, patiently, she tried her hardest to understand what was taking place. For the first time Aaron had a chance to gain knowledge and to gain insight from an unbiased entity. "Do you have a soul?"

Dictionary dictation or Human view? _

"Both." He answered.

Dictionary dictation: No. Human View: Please Define_

Aaron rubbed his chin and thought to himself. Cherry sat on her stomach and looked through her drawings, humming, to herself. "The human view of the soul is the ability to comprehend and to have free will. The ability to feel." He paused and raised a finger, as if the machine, was watching his motions. "Better yet. Define your own comprehension."

This one does not have a nervous system. This one has input and may respond to commands of most any nature, but, psychological and emotional._ It answered. That wasn't much of an answer. There was a knock on the door. It opened and Montag's head peeked in.

"Cherry. Get your friend. Dinner is ready."

"Okay daddy." Cherry piped. He turned and shut the door. Cherry stood and stretched. "Lets go eat." She said cheerfully. Aaron nodded and shut the booklet. As he went to set it down there was a light beeping and vibrating. Aaron

opened it.

Please place this one in the light while open, so this one, may charge._ Aaron chuckled softly at its words. It turns out the A.I.S. booklet was very comprehensive. Aaron placed it open on the bed , so that, the light could shine on it.

He turned and follow Cherry down the hall. She chattered as usual. "My dads not a very good cook." Cherry murmured. "Don't tell him I said so. He does okay sometimes. I think today is spaghetti night." She shuddered. "Hopefully he remembered to add salt to it."

---

After dinner Aaron left to his room and faded away into the deep abyss of sleep, quickly, it was not a peaceful sleep though. It was full of condescending faces and frightened screams. Explosions rang out and his world shook. "Tell me! Let me help you!" He cried into their midst. His only response was the metallic scent of blood and the cries of the dying.

You fail…You failed us…Why did we have to die Aaron? Asked a culmination of voices.

"Let me save you! Let me help you!" He reached out into a darkness so black, that his hand, could not be seen before him. A rotten, skeletal, hand grasped his wrist. It left a greasy feel of liquefying flesh on his skin. The hand pulled him forwards, till he could, feel an entities fetid breath against his face. Bodies pressed about him in the darkness.

We are already dead Aaron. Remember? You let us die. The voices whispered as one. The only sound to be heard as the grip tightened, and they brought him into, their icy embrace….Was like a concave scream.

---

Aaron sat up and bit down on his knuckles, hard enough, to draw blood. He didn't want to wake anyone with his screams. The metallic flavor, helped, wake him. He ran a hand through his hair, sighing, before laying back. The sun had not even risen. His dreams had never been this terrible before. This was mostly due to the fact that he never had any time to truly sleep.

Aaron crept from his room to the bathroom and washed his face with water. He shivered and awoke a bit more. He looked at his own reflection. His eyes were more of a grey color. His brown hair hung just past his ears in slightly wavy locks. It had been a long time since he had seen his own reflection. He looked away and realized why. Aaron had only seen it in the reflection of his window and in some reflective surfaces. His face was gaunt and his eyes partially sunken. He was very, very pale. He did not want to see it. For some reason it disgusted him. Not the fact that he looked such a way. It was his reflection in general. He left the restroom and crept back to his room.

The constant patter of feet and whirr of medical instruments kept him on the edge of true sleep. During the daytime he dozed, without many, dreams. Those words…He didn't understand. He stood and quietly moved to the A.I.S. booklet, sitting on the window sill, and grasped it. He tapped the screen, bringing it to life.

Good morning, Aaron. This ones scans indicate, that, you have elevated stress levels. This ones passive monitors indicate that you have only received five hours of deep sleep. You should rest more._

Aaron touched the screen and pulled up the touch keyboard. He did not want to speak aloud and wake up Cherry or Montag. Partially he wanted time to confide in Atlas.

I could not sleep. I apologize for the disturbance. I am okay with five hours._ Aaron responded. He knew it was foolish to speak to a machine in such a manner.

This one is made to be at your service. This ones systems allow this one ,to, charge quickly. Though please be aware that your performance rate shall be decremented._ That was surprising. This machine truly was a marvel of technical science.

I have questions for you Atlas. I do not have long._

Feel free to ask this one your questions Aaron._ He scratched his chin for a moment ,then, began typing.

Before I ask. Why do you refer to yourself in the third person?_

This one is not a sentient, living being, this one is only an item of use._ Aaron nodded to himself. That was an interesting perspective. Well, interesting, but grim.

I see…We shall talk more on the subject. But tell me… What are the most recent disasters that have happened?_

Please specify. There innumerable disasters that are happening, even, as you speak with this one._ Aaron thought for place ,to start, for his search.

I need you to pull up recent visits to the local hospital._

That is restricted._

Not others. Mine._

Please give this one your full name._ Aaron paused and thought for a moment. What was his full name? Now that he thought about it, he couldn't, recall ever having one. What the hell was going on? He had a first name that he could remember ,but, there was no last name.

Look for a "John Doe", or, an unlisted patient._ Aaron responded. The A.I.S. booklet whirred for a few seconds as it comprehended his command.

One match found. An unidentified patient was admitted to the Twin Rivers, hospital, Rivera Nirvana. Access is restricted to this subject._

My fingerprints are the same as the subject admitted. I feel I have the right to the medical records._ Aaron commented.

Negative. This one does not have the clearance to supply this information._ His own medical records, were, restricted? What was going on here? Right now he didn't have time to ponder these inequities. The sun would rise soon and Cherry would wake up soon. It was the same as always. She would show up while the sun rose in the middle of the sky. He tried another avenue of questioning.

Can you tell me the concluded occurrence on, how, I was admitted to the hospital?_ The A.I.S. booklet whirred as if thinking, on whether, to tell him or not.

Public documentation of the doctors notes, on the, worldwide web, suggest that you are a survivor of the New Falls disaster._

New Falls disaster? What happened? How did you come to this conclusion?_ Aaron asked. Several news clippings from the local town popped up. A few photos of him were in them. It spoke of him, being, the supposed only survivor of the disaster. He was surprised why no one had come to investigate. Something was wrong here.

How has no one outside of Twin Rivers found out about this occurrence?_ Something was very wrong here.

Were there any other stories on me?_

Negative._ The machine responded without pause. For once ,a, definite answer.

Why did the activity on my recovery suddenly stop? Did the doctors notes not get exposed to other sources?_ Aaron asked. This was what he was now curious about.

That can not be specified. This one does not have the resources to disclose the information to you._ Atlas answered ,again, without pausing. Aaron crossed is arms ,under, his chest. This was a quandary. Not just that. This was becoming a full blown dilemma.

Can you tell me whom is responsible for the sudden stop in this information?_ The machines screen went black for a long while. It whirred for a long time. The only sounds were his breathing and the clicking sounds of its hard drive processing its information.

Norre Eisenheilm, Montag Wilkinson, and Gregory Eagan._ It answered. He knew only of only one person named, Montag. He already knew that Montag was part of the local law enforcement ,from, his uniform and choice of friends. The other he knew was Norre. He was most likely Montag's stepfather ,since, Cherry was prone to calling him, "Grandpa". These were common knowledge, but how, were they involved. First he wanted to know who Gregory Eagan was.

Who is Gregory Eagan?_

The mayor of Twin Rivers._ Atlas answered.

What does he have to do with all of this?_

Please specify._

What does he have to do directly ,to, affect this situation?_ Aaron asked. He was quickly growing irritated with questioning Atlas. He had to constantly ask new questions and phrase them differently in order to get a straight answer.

Mayor Eagan is responsible for enforcing the H.I.P.A.A. law and security act. He also has placed three news personnel in the local jails, whom were processed, and later sent to federal prison._

What is H.I.P.A.A?_

The Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act of 1996 , created, to ensure confidentiality of patients records among other ,record keeping, purposes._ Atlas explained. Several documents panned into view, explaining, it.

What do Norre and Montag have to do, directly, with this?_ He asked.

Norre Eisenheilm, born in 2079, Massachusetts, Groveland, Married in August 21st, 2093 ,to Maryanne Weathersbee whom later died of leukemia. They conceived a child, Cheryl Eisenheilm in 2101. Cheryl Eisenheilm later married a Montag Wilkinson in 2122. Cheryl Eisenheilm died in ,2126, giving birth to Cherry Wilkinson on February 8, 2126. Continue?_ It answered.

No. That is not what I wanted. I wished to know Norre and Montag's occupations and their previous histories._ Aaron responded in irritation. This was annoying him. The machine was trying to run him in circles. Already Aaron had seen information he did not have a right to view. This other information was not his to see either, but at least it was not personal.

Norre Eisenheilm is an ex-military. He works as a carpenter and teaches martial arts locally. Montag is the head of the sheriffs department in the Twin Rivers community._ It answered. He could understand Montag's influence. But Norre?

Tell me about Norre's military history._

Restricted access. _ It said in big bold, red letters. This was getting severely annoying. It seemed that ,he would, have to ask Norre himself. He did not relish this prospect.

Please pull up the news articles again ,so, I may look through them._ Aaron requested ,in, exasperation. The screen shifted to the news articles.

Is there any way you format this ,for, me to view it easier?_ Aaron wanted to see all of the news articles. The orb embedded in the top of the A.I.S. booklet flickered, causing, Aaron to nearly drop it. A holographic projection, bloomed to life, before him. The news articles floated before him.

This ones sensors will allow this one. to identify the interference of your fingers on this ones projections, to manipulate them, you may widen or shrink the images._ Atlas's words floated about before the images, before, disappearing. Aaron nodded and set the booklet down. He touched the projections and pulled them upwards. He panned them out into a single line, so he could look at them, individually.

Some talked about his surviving the disaster ,while, others talked about his incredible will to live. There was one photo of the New Falls disaster zone. It was taken from a flying craft. Evidently, it seemed, the area was being quarantined for radiation and other contagions. The entire area was leveled, wiped clean, in a crater. It was as if ,God, had slammed a fist into the city and wiped it off the face of the earth. Aaron was about to look at the others, but something, caught his eye.

Aaron zoomed in the photo, pulling the edges outwards, yes… There was something there that he doubted, anyone else, had noticed. If they had noticed it ,then, they were trying to cover it up. Aaron zoomed in on a corner of the image again, causing it, to blur. He pulled up the onscreen keyboard.

Atlas can you clean up this image?_ He touched the section he wanted.

This one may download the necessary programs._

Please do. I need you to clean this section of the photo up, and zoom in, three times more._ He responded.

Affirmative. Please hold._ The holographic projection died away and the A.I.S. booklet sat there for several seconds, whirring, and clicking in the dim room. He looked out the window. The sun was beginning to rise quicker. Down the hall the sounds of a little girl yawning could be heard.

"Atlas." Aaron whispered, hoping, its sensors could hear him. "Atlas please hurry."

A door opened and closed. A few seconds later another opened and shut. There was a sound of running water. Good. She was in the restroom.

"Atlas!" He hissed in a rare ,display, of emotion. A holographic projection bloomed to life, of the photo, grids appeared over it. The part that he had selected cleared up and then zoomed in, cleaning itself up again, it did this twice more. Aaron looked at the image and pursed his lips. It was the closest he really got to a frown. The image was vastly blurred, but at least, he could see it. It looked like a line of five vehicles moving through the disaster zone.

Atlas, how long after, the disaster was this photo taken?_ Aaron asked. He was on the verge of something.

Based on the analysis of the age of the photo, and the release, of this image. The image suggest that this, photo, was taken ,approximately, two hours after the disaster._

Your sure?_ He asked.

The timestamp of the photo, and tracing the, pathways it was sent on and date it was released. This ones analysis suggests so._ Atlas reassured. Sadly, this was, not something he wanted to be reassured about.

Atlas, were any, personnel of any type ,allowed in the disaster zone?_ Aaron asked, a chill crawling down his spine.

Records indicate that the area was quarantined for possible contagions and the risk of radiation._ Atlas answered, without ,skipping a beat.

You are sure?_

Within a 98.997 percentage._ It answered. This was not good news at all. If Aaron had survived this disaster… The condition and the casts he had, had, to wear. What had happened? He only asked this ,because, of the line of five trucks. A line trucks were headed to the edge of the city, barely noticeable, in the smoking wreckage. There were insignias on the sides of each one. He couldn't make them out. He tapped them. Was he that had noticed them ,or, was it simply that anyone else whom had happened upon them had been silenced. Aaron felt a chill.

Atlas. What kind of vehicle is this?_ The A.I.S. program highlighted it and zoomed in on it.

Military grade, transport, vehicle._ It answered.

Can you tell me the company that bears the logo on these trucks?_ He asked, tapping the insignias. Atlas highlighted them, and zoomed them in, trying to clean up the images.

This may take time. Please hold._ Atlas answered. The holographic projection died away.

"Later." Aaron whispered. He shut the cover of the A.I.S. booklet and tossed it on the bed, just, as Cherry opened his bedroom door. Aaron nodded to her and stood up. She stood on the other side of the door, letting him dress, as she chattered.

"Today, we're going to visit my grandpa. I usually go to visit him, he's been, waiting for us to go over to his place for awhile." She said. "My daddy is at work so we are going to walk. Luckily its not to far away. I'll go find you a jacket." She said walking down the hallway. He sighed and walked over, grabbing a pair of pants and a shirt. She came back, not half, a minute later she returned with a flannel jacket. Most likely she had taken it from her fathers room. He couldn't help but to smile inwardly. Before leaving he grasped the A.I.S. booklet, and slid it into his jacket pocket.

They walked out the door followed her out into the cold crisp air. He followed, listening to her incessant chatter. "Tyler and Kevin keep talking about how Melli kissed Kevin. I told them to shut up and they threatened to spit on me. I told the teacher but they didn't do anything. They never do anything. Stupid teachers. They only pay attention to certain things. Lately they've really been on us, making sure, we're not talking about anything bad. I bet there's going to be another big pop quiz. " Cherry muttered the last part, as they walked down, the neighborhood. "They have been real strict ever since the end of last year. Everyone is acting funny now days. I think all the adults are getting old. Sarah says their getting senile." This piqued Aarons interest this time he listened more intently. "They don't let us talk about, the news, they don't let us talk about the New Falls disaster. Its like we're talking about spitting on someone or whenever someone fought someone else. Its stupid."

That was an interesting bit of information. Even the teachers and the parents of the town were restricting, the spread, of the news on the New Falls Disaster. Why would they try so hard to cover this up? Was it simply that they did not want any attention, or was it that they had something to hide… Aaron turned from his thoughts, back to Cherry. "I think that people should talk about what happened. Its not right that so many people died and nobody wants to know why!" She exclaimed. She paused and stomped her foot. "People have a right to know what happened to all those people! They don't

even let us watch the news feeds on the disaster!" She sighed. So they really were trying to cover up these incidents. But why isolate the town so much? He shook his head. It was difficult to think about so many facts at one time. He touched his hand to the A.I.S. booklet in his pocket. Aaron would consult Atlas later.

"All those people died for no reason… No ones trying to make up for what happened to them." She said in a near whisper. Aaron heard it. This little girls pain became his own. Those words stung his heart to the core. He grasped his chest, it was if there was a terrible pain. There was an emptiness that pulsed like a wound. Why? The words from his dream echoed in the recesses of his mind. Failure…

I failed them… But I don't know them! Why does this hurt so bad? God… Aaron cried out in his mind. His nails dug through the fabric of his shirt, digging into, his skin. He dropped to his knees. It was as if he could not breathe. This pain…

Tears welled in his eyes and he gritted his teeth. He dropped to his knees and fell on all fours. Cherry turned and dropped next to him, and grasped, his jacket.

"What's wrong? Mr. Angel?" She asked shaking him gently. Aaron shook his head and tried to push his arm against her feebly. He could not stop trembling. This feeling… What was it?

As the tears dripped down his cheek he realized… This pain… This was sadness. Not just sadness, but, an intense anguish. It broke his heart anew. As his heart broke again he realized that it had been shattered once before, but, by what? How could something so broken ,be, broken again? He was acutely aware of the sadness in Cherry, it pulsed, from her dully. This did not help him. The feeling grew cold, so ungodly cold, and it grew. He threw his head back and clutched himself. The air around him pulsed like a heartbeat, only for a single second. That single pulse threw Cherry on her back, an arms, distance from Aaron. Pebbles and sand were thrown away from him in all directions. The feeling faded away from Aaron just as quickly as the pulse of energy. He felt drained.

Aaron slumped forward with his forehead pressed against the cold ground. It helped stir him. He felt exhausted. More than anything, Aaron felt, drained. The emotions he had felt from Cherry had disappeared also. As soon as his body allowed, Aaron crawled over to Cherry, checking her. "Are you okay? Cherry?"

She stared at him in shock with her eyes wide. Aaron shook her again. "Cherry! Cherry!" He cried. It was a rare occasion for him to speak. Right now he had to, for her sake. She had to be all right.

She turned and looked at Aaron. "Mr. Angel?" Cherry sat up. There was a small scratch on her cheek. "What happened?" She asked with trembling lips.

"I don't know." Aaron said. He was at a loss for what to say. Her eyes brightened.

"Maybe it was the wind?" She said. Her child innocence had saved Aaron. Aaron stood and helped her up, nodding, encouraging her wild fantasy. He himself knew that it was something other than the wind. It was something very ominous. "What was wrong earlier?" She asked, as they began walking again. Aaron could only shrug. "Maybe it was a cramp. Are you hungry? I get stomach cramps when I'm hungry." She said nodding her head. It seemed that her young mind could not fully comprehend what had happened, so it substituted it with, rational explanations. To be honest, Aaron, did feel a tad bit puckish. He was still unused to the change in his scheduled meals. Aaron sighed again. This gesture of emotion was beginning to become commonplace. He dearly missed the confines of his hospital room.

---

Upon reaching Cherry's, grandfathers house, the little girl darted up to the front door. Without a knock she swept inside, calling for her grandfather. "Grandpa Norre!" She said. Cherry turned in a circle. "Grandpa Norre!"

An old grizzled man came around, from behind the house. He wore a loosely buttoned, flannel shirt. Underneath it, his gray haired chest, was covered in further scars. The man had a past about him. He was an enigma, much like the town itself.

The old man stepped forward and, introduced himself, extending a calloused hand. "I am Norre. Its good to see you up and moving about." The old man did not ask for Aaron's name. He had seen many people like Aaron. People like him , had gone through, such a traumatic experience that they lost the ability to speak. Norre had a feeling it was more of a will to speak for this man. At the moment he would not push the matter. The fact the man had come from the brink of death, and beyond, was a miracle in itself. Without further lingering, Norre turned to Cherry and swept her up in a arm.

"Its good to see you kiddo." He chuckled, knuckling her head. She squealed happily, hugging him back. He set her down. "I'm going to talk with your friend awhile if that's alright with you, young lady." Norre said. Cherry shrugged and looked at Aaron.

"Is that alright with you Mr. Angel?" She asked. Aaron nodded, touching her shoulder with a finger. It was a gesture of affection, one that, did not pass Norre unnoticed. Cherry turned and hopped over to the front door. "Well I'm going inside. Saturday morning cartoons are on. I'll be out in a bit." She said waving over her shoulder. The door shut behind her. When she was gone Norre, placed a hand, on Aaron's shoulder.

"Come. I may talk with you awhile." The hand on Aaron's shoulder, was not commanding, but it did not give sway either. Aaron followed him around the back of the small house. The old man opened a tall fence, revealing, a training area. It was shaded, slightly by a roof on four wooden poles. A small shed, sat in a corner, away from the training area. The ground was covered in sand. Weights sat on a rack in a corner, a punching bag, in the center of the training area, hanging from a chain from the roof beams. "This is my dojo." Norre said, gesturing to the area. "I teach self defense to the people of this town. Mostly, I built, as a place to get away. This place is a place of solitude, were I can train and be at peace." Norre reached down and grasped Aaron's hands and peered at them. He rubbed his thumbs across, Aaron's palms then turned them over and peered at his knuckles. His fingers moved deftly as he examined Aaron's hands. He spoke answering Aaron's questions. "I will never teach a man, who has held a gun. I will also teach a man who fights needlessly." Norre dropped Aaron's hands. "I was there when they pulled you in from the river. I also saw what had been done to you. Never in my life had I ever seen a man so badly injured, and left to die like that. It would have been a mercy to end you life. Hell. We were going to if you didn't make it through the first few nights." Norre admitted. "But you did. I do not know who you are, nor do I care. I believe that every man has a right to defend himself. You my friend. You most of all I believe should have a chance to survive. I am willing to give you this."

For once Aaron did something, instead of offering silence, he gave an answer. Something pivotal. Aaron nodded. Norre patted his shoulder. "Good man." He relinquished his touch upon Aaron and turned to go inside. "You can come inside if you like. I'm cooking breakfast." Norre said as he walked through the backdoor. Aaron did not intend on staying outside, so he followed suit and entered the warm house.

---

The breakfast was a loud one. It consisted of Cherry chatting about school, and the plot, of the TV show she was currently watching. Aaron and Norre studied one another. Norre laughed and joked with Cherry as they ate. Aaron sat in usual companionable silence and listened to Cherry. It seemed in here with Cherry, all the wickedness, of the world could stay outside. That was her magic. The hatred of the world could stay at bay when this little girl was in its midst. Aaron thanked God that, he had met her. Perhaps she was God's beloved child. Who could know? Aaron had faith in that though. The entire time Cherry did not bring up the incident, that, had occurred earlier. He could only hope it didn't slip out at some point. The results could be disastrous. It was a perfect breakfast. Well it was perfect for Aaron.

---

Their walk home was quite normal. Cherry seemed to have forgotten all about the incident that had happened earlier. If she did remember, she, didn't let on. Aaron nodded his head and listened to the little girl as she prattled on about school. It seemed there was an endless slew of events that took place at middle school. Either that or she needed something to talk about. Aaron supposed that it was the latter. As soon as they got home Cherry took Aaron outside for another walk and had him play with her in the yard.

As usual Aaron listened to Cherry's directions and words as he always did, like a child, following its mother. In many ways they took care of one another. When it came time for lunch ,Cherry cooked, them a microwavable dish from the freezer. They settled down against the couch and watched cartoons awhile. Cherry soon to fell asleep leaning against his shoulder. He gently lifted her and let her sit against the couch. When he was sure she was asleep he took Atlas from his pocket and stole off to his room. The entire day he had puzzled over the military vehicle that had been captured in that photo.

Shutting the door quietly behind him, he turned, to the A.I.S. booklet and opened it.

The booklet winked into life. "This one has downloaded the necessary programs, and, amplified the photo for your viewing." It said. Aaron placed a finger over his lips. It was a futile gesture to a machine.

"Please do not speak. I do not wish to disturb the others." Aaron murmured. Atlas winked its observation crystal in confirmation ,of, his request. A holographic display bloomed to life. The corners of the photo were highlighted and a grid appeared over it. Atlas's words scrolled above the photo.

Please select the grid or manipulate at your leisure._ Aaron nodded and touched one of the vehicles within the grid.

This one's insignia was more clearly shown, than the others. The photo flickered and the square he touched zoomed in. The picture was distorted, slowly, it became clearer. It was still hard to see. Aaron repeated this process three more times.

Warning. This one cannot magnify the image any farther without distorting the original medium._ Atlas cautioned. Aaron nodded and rotated the picture this way and that. He wrapped his arms about himself. It was the vague picture of two angle wings, wrapped, about a sword. There was a banner wrapped around the hilt of it.

"Atlas. Can you identify this type of vehicle?" He asked. The A.I.S. booklet whirred and scanned the truck in the photo segment.

VEHICLE found in photo in A.I.S. booklet- S.A. A.V. G-28 (Standard Armored Assault Vehicle Generation 28)_ It answered.

"Can you identify what companies or organizations use these types of vehicles?" Aaron asked. He was growing more adapt in asking the correct questions and trying to find loopholes, to exploit, the machines logic.

There are over 28 organizations that fall, within, this category._ It answered without skipping a beat.

"Can you tell me what specific categories they, themselves, fall in?" He asked hopefully.

17 are military instillations. The other 11 are scientific research institutions._ Atlas's answer troubled Aaron. Why would a science institution need such a mode of transport? He voiced his question.

Science institutions and Research facilities utilize these, vehicles, for off world exploration, and field studies in hostile environments._ That would explain it. Still. If the area was quarantined… What would such a vehicle be doing in this area?

Aaron pulled up the photo again and panned inwards, to show, the entire photograph. The vehicles were leaving the area, not entering it, this would mean that they had gotten there right after the explosion… It could also mean that they were there from the beginning. If they were they either caused it or they did nothing to stop it.

"Atlas can you scan that symbol and run it, and tell me, what organization it belongs to?" Aaron asked.

Certainly_ Atlas answered. It went silent for a few seconds and numbers scrolled across its screen. A name scrolled across the front of it.

GREGORY VERZNAS INSTITUTE FOR SCIENCE AND TERRAFORMING

The screen flickered and returned to its original state. More numbers scrolled in the background though. This was a change from the A.I.S. booklets usual behavior.

"Atlas what is going on?" Aaron asked in curiosity.

This ones systems are beginning to be hacked. In less than thirteen seconds the intruder will infiltrate this ones motherboard and memory systems._ Atlas answered slowly. Aaron felt a tingle of panic, run, down his spine.

"Is there any way to stop them?" Aaron asked. He did not want anything infiltrating the A.I.S. booklet if it was not under his permission, least of all, someone finding out what he was researching. He felt that if this was such a quiet topic in Twin Rivers, that it was, in his best interest to keep it silent awhile longer.

Negative. The connection must be severed._

"How do I do this?"

Unplug this ones power cell from the back._ It answered.

Warning._ Aaron paused as in turning the A.I.S. booklet over in his hands.

All research and data not saved will be deleted._ Aaron did not pause in reading this. He could research it again later. He felt along the back of the A.I.S. booklet and pulled its power cell off. The screen flickered.

CONNECTION LOST

POWER FAILURE

Then the screen went dead. Aaron set down the A.I.S. booklet, its power cell, next to it. He was too paranoid to turn it back on. The results could be disastrous. It was terrible. All that data lost?

---

Late at night in a building, the hum, of machinery could be heard. Derrick Greens sat in a cubicle before his

computer playing solitaire on his W.P.U.S. ,before his computer screen winked, it did this sometimes during the day. It was a dull job. Working for the W.S.A. , the evolution, of the N.S.A. was often boring work. When the National Security Association had evolved into the World Security Association this meant a change in protocol and technology. This was due to the fact that A.I.'s were illegal. They were fully functional Artificial Intelligence programs that could be disastrous if angered. On the upside they could do the work of thousands of supercomputers and hundreds of men. Sadly the last result in A.I. experimentation was a three city wide blackout for eighteen weeks. An A.I. possesses the ability to evolve and to create original ideas. They also used up a lot of energy and very expensive machinery, just to build, a computing matrix for one. A.I.'s were unpredictable since they did not operate within set parameters like a A.I.S. system did. If they did, they often, figured out ways to slip through those parameters. A automated intelligence system could only do so much without making mistakes. This was the same with humans. This meant more manpower to monitor databases and computers. It consisted of drinking coffee on his shift, checking the computer ever few minutes, and playing solitaire till he was rotated. When the screen beeped he looked up, and was just about to discard the alarm. They usual only took a quick scan through. This alert was vastly different from all the others he had received. The alert flickered. The computer began scanning for an I.D. of the signal that had alerted its systems. The signal disappeared before the computer could finish its hack. The I.D. remained but it was a mobile unit. He had the general area though.

This irked Derrick. He looked up the alert parameters, as to why, it had gone off. Someone had searched and queried certain keywords in a preset order, that the database, would register. The signal had just died. This was not normal at all for this sort of instance. Usually it was simply, an accident, or a reporter looking for a story. They were to stupid to know they were getting hacked.

Derrick wiped, newly formed sweat from his brow, and set his W.P.U.S. to the side. He printed a report and walked to the elevator. There was no one in the way this late at night, so he did, not have to worry as he all but ran down the halls. He rode the elevator, with the papers clutched in his hand like a lifeline. These could give him a pay raise and possible a promotion. He could use the extra money for his family. Today's economy was a rough one. As he rode the elevator he made a silent prayer to God that this was something worthwhile.

---

Johan Sven sat at his desk, going over documents, and signing additional written documents. He had much work to do in clearing certain operations and stopping others from happening. On the other hand when he was doing this, he was busy, advising the Presidential Council and speaking with the Secretary of Defense. He was nearing his hundred twenties and had been working in his office for thirteen years. Johan felt he was getting to old for this. It was bad enough that Homeland Security was up his ass about the New Falls disaster. Coming up with excuses and reasons for things was not easy at the last minute. When in a bureaucracy ,one had to make sure a lie or a half truth, was feasible. Well feasible until he could get to the bottom of things. He was not expecting a man from the lower levels of the W.S.A. to come bursting into his office. Johan knew he should remember the mans name, but out of over 135 staff that were rotated in and out of the building at all times, that was a luxury he could not provide. There was simply to much to keep track of. Luckily the man was wearing a identification badge.

The papers he received made him forget the man entirely, for two entire minutes. Sweat beaded on the directors brow.

---

Derrick licked his lips nervously as he watched the director read his work.

"You are sure this is correct?" The director asked quietly. Derrick could only nod in confirmation. The director sat down and looked over the paper twice. "Good work man." The director said in a soft voice. He set the papers down and rubbed his chin.

Derrick turned to leave but the director stopped him. "No have a seat. I need you to stay here for me." So Derrick sat in the chair before the director. This might be his big break after all. Inwardly he was hoping for the best. Most of him was simply terrified. If this was not important he would get demoted or even fired for interrupting vital work to the W.S.A. .

The director pulled out a ear piece for his W.P.U.S. . He dialed a number and turned around in his chair. Derrick could see him nodding his head and saying, "Yes", repeatedly. After a few more words the director hung up and turned back to Derrick.

"You are quite sure that this area is accurate?"

"Yes sir. I checked the A.I.S.'s parameters. It could not hack the signal but it was able to triangulate the area it was in before it died. If this user, logs back in we should be able to pinpoint their general location."

The director had not realized that the search for one person or even, a group of selected persons would be that troublesome. Even if he did divert some of the W.S.A.'s resources into searching for that signal, it would, put them at a disadvantage. Each day wars and skirmishes with different territories broke out. It took nearly everything they had to keep up and put a stopper on those problems. It was the world or slack off a bit to search for a man. The choice was obvious. In his eyes the worlds security was, more important, than a single man at the moment. They would devote what could be spared to finding this man. The W.S.A's benefactors had pegged him dreadfully, wrong, if they thought the W.S.A. would be lap dogs for any single person or organization. Well… That was what he tried to tell himself. They were making deals with predators to kill the real monsters. He turned back to Derrick.

"Good work. Go home. You've done a good job for today. We will share words tomorrow. There are going to be some changes and you are going to be at the forefront." The director said warmly. He leaned forward and shook Derrick's sweaty hand.

"Thank you sir."

"No, thank you Mr. Greens, for your service." With that, he dismissed, Derrick and sent him on his way. The director dialed another number on his uplink as the man left. This was a special number, reserved, for situations like this. "Please make sure that Mr. Derrick Greens is paid in full." The director said calmly. Yes. Mr. Greens was at the forefront of these changes. Sadly, no one would remember him. He would be the first one to be changed, permanently, loose ends needed to be tied up. He was more than sure that this signal was their object of interest. It coincided with the search net. This net was closing very quickly.

---

Aaron sat awhile staring at the A.I.S. booklet. He was unsure as to what to do. Aaron did not know much of anything about machines, let alone, hacking. Instead of thinking about it further he set it off to the side, on his bed, and left the room.

He walked down the hall into the living room and passed by the kitchen. On the tables were an assortment of books, papers, pencils, and pens. They belonged to Cherry. The books and papers were the work that she had sometimes brought to his room at the hospital. She would work on them while she talked with him. He checked on her in the living room. The little girl was still in a deep sleep, leaning against, the couch with her remote in hand.

Aaron crouched down and picked her up gently, laying, her on the couch. It was nice to have some peace and quiet. It was unnerving though, the silence, he had nothing to do. His curiosity got the best of him and he was tired of watching the television. He switched it off and returned to the kitchen were her schoolwork sat. She always talked about the things she learned at school, he was curious, to find out more. There was a burning curiosity that called to be sated. So he pulled up a chair and seated himself at the table and pulled forward the book closest to him. It was a math book. He opened it and turned to the first page. Without meaning too he became engrossed in the simple math and fractions.

Aaron began turning the pages, chin in hand, reading and re-reading the pages. Some of it confused him, so he took a pencil and worked them out as directed using, the back of Cherry's papers. It was fascinating, this "math", and it was fun to exercise his mind for once. The algebraic expressions and long division came easily to him, as if he had practiced it before. He took a glance at Cherry's homework and completed it within seven minutes. The numbers had grown stale for him at the moment. He had read much of the book anyways, so he grasped her history book and, pulled it towards him. Aaron opened its cover and set back to read again. The history of the world was interesting. More often than not it involved much killing and violence that appalled him. As often as he saw these atrocious things, there was a great man, behind them. Many of these great men strove for greatness, and sought to achieve, freedom and equality for their fellow men. Some of them were monsters that desired conquest. These ones met their just ends though at the hands of other good men. He grew tired after he read of the World Arms Agreement of 2045, the agreement to discontinue and destroy all nuclear weapons. He did not want to read about the Third World War. It was interesting but it was the same cycle of violence, no matter, how many stoppers men put on it. They only created more deadly weapons. These only, did not scar the earth permanently. Aaron looked over and sifted through the papers and found homework for this class also. He did this, without paying much attention to it. It was easily accomplished and very obvious.

He was sadly interrupted from his blissful studies as Cherry came into the kitchen yawning. She sat down at the table with him and rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

"Are you seriously reading that stuff for fun?" She asked tilting her head to the side. Cherry reached over and

grasped her math homework and looked over it. Her mouth moved as she worked a math problem in her head, and followed his process. She scratched her head and strode off to her room, fetching a calculator. Cherry punched in a few numbers and looked at the math problems. "Wow…" She said, exaggerating the words. "Your really freaking smart." Cherry sat there a few moments. "Are you some kind of genius?"

Aaron shook his head.

"No. I just learned it. I apologize if I was wrong. I wanted to work them out." Aaron murmured, closing the history book.

"Wait… So you just learned how to do that?" Cherry asked suspiciously. She was no foolish child that would fall for such gimmicks.

"Yes." Aaron answered. "I did this worksheet too." He said sliding the other to her. Aaron waited patiently as she thumbed through the book and checked some of his answers.

"And you just learned this?"

"Yes. Why?" Aaron asked.

"That's three hundred and seventy five pages." Cherry muttered. "You have got to be kidding me." She punched a few numbers into her calculator and redid the math. "That's over seven hundred pages." Cherry said holding the calculator to his face. Aaron shrugged.

"I'm sorry?" He apologized. Evidently he must have done something wrong.

"No. No. Its fine. I just find that hard to believe that someone could read that many pages that fast." She looked over at the digital clock in the kitchen. "And I don't think I was sleeping that long." Cherry scratched her head. "What was name of the 16th president?"

"Abraham Lincoln." Aaron answered without pause.

"When was he born?" Cherry quizzed.

"February 12th 1809."

"What was the name of his Vice president?"

"Hannibal Hamlin. In 1865 he successfully led his country through its greatest internal crisis, the American Civil War, preserving the Union and ending slavery to say the least. Before his election in 1860 as the first Republican president, Lincoln had been a country lawyer, an Illinois state legislator, a member of the United States House of Representatives, and twice an unsuccessful candidate for election to the U.S. Senate. A well known opponent of the expansion of slavery in the United States, Lincoln won the Republican Party nomination in 1860 and was elected president later that year. His tenure in office was occupied primarily with defeating the secessionist Confederate States of America in the American Civil War. He introduced measures that resulted in the abolition of slavery, issuing his Emancipation Proclamation in 1863 and promoting the passing of the Thirteenth Amendment to the Constitution. Six days after the massive surrender of Confederate forces under General Robert E. Lee, Lincoln became the first American president to be assassinated. On, April 14, 1865, President Abraham Lincoln was shot while attending a performance of "Our American Cousin" at Ford's Theatre with his wife and two guests. Lincoln's assassin, was an actor and Confederate sympathizer ,John Wilkes Booth, had also plotted with fellow conspirators, Lewis Powell and George Atzerodt to kill William H. Seward (then Secretary of State) and Vice President Andrew Johnson respectively. Booth hoped to create chaos and overthrow the Federal government by assassinating Lincoln, Seward, and Johnson. Sadly this did not work as this shocked the nation into action instead of chaos. Although Booth killed Lincoln, the larger plot failed." Aaron quoted. Cherry sat there with her mouth open for a good long while. Aaron himself saw nothing odd with what he had just done. He felt slightly abashed that he had caused her to react in such away. What had he done so bad? He wondered.

The little girl turned and pulled up a chair to seat herself in. She sat there for a few moments, trying, to comprehend what she had witnessed. Instead her expression brightened. "You can help me on my homework then!" Cherry exclaimed. Aaron shrugged. There were perks to her childlike innocence. It prevented awkward moments, were she asked a question that, he honestly could not answer.

"May I read these books of yours?" Aaron asked, touching a different book, her English book.

"Sure. The more you read the better! Just make sure you can help on my homework Angel." Cherry responded brightly.

"Then it is a deal."

This was the most Aaron had ever spoke in the year and a half, that, he had been in Twin Rivers. It was not that he did not like to. It was more of the fact that he had simply, had, no reason to talk. This topic interested him so he spoke out about it. Shortly after though, Cherry prattled on, as she did while Aaron read. He listened to her off to the side as he read through the English book that she had. After awhile he grew tired of the reading, and she grew tired of her prattling. It was time for them to both retire. He supposed that Montag would be home around this time. If he remembered one of Cherry's conversations correctly, he usually got off, around now.

Aaron helped her clean the table of its books and papers and went back to the living room with him. There she sat on his lap and had him watch TV with her.

---

Later Montag came home ,still dressed in, his law enforcement uniform. He made little noise, only announcing, that he was home. Cherry murmured a reply, engrossed in the latest TV drama. Montag was not perturbed by this. He simply went through the motions in the kitchen, deciding on, what he would cook for dinner that night.

Aaron had long since grown bored of the show. He did not understand the concept of "puns" and "allusions" quite yet. Instead, he watched, Montag move about the kitchen from the corner of his eye. The man did not seem bad. He seemed perpetually disgruntled and stressed. Aaron did not know much about Montag or his job as a Sherriff. After all he had only met Montag on a few occasions. He seemed callous but there was more to him.

Aaron put it out of his mind. He felt like one of the out of state doctors trying to probe a patient. Much the way they had tested him and taken blood samples.

Montag did not deserve this kind of scrutiny. He deserved the same rights that Aaron himself felt he was entitled to.

---

Dinner was a quite one. Montag was a man of few words. Either that or he was tired of speaking to people all day, about their, civil disputes and writing tickets to angry drivers. The few words he said consisted of, "How was school?" and "Uh-huh." The latter was not much of a response, more a grunt. It was the very insignificant proof of Montag's existence. Even then it was barely feasible to believe this man was alive. Disgruntled indeed.

The next morning Cherry awoke Aaron. She bade Aaron to dress and go without a shower, saying, "Your going to get stinky. Just wash after."

So Aaron acceded to her will as he always did. It was cold outside so he fetched them both heavy jackets. It would not warm till midday. It was windy, chilling them to the bone, on the way there. When they reached Cherry's grandfathers house, Cherry continued down the street to her bus stop. "Don't worry about me. You don't have to walk me to the bus. Besides, Grandpa Norre, hates tardy people." Cherry said, shooing away Aaron.

---

Aaron strode into the backyard. Norre sat there meditating. He opened one eye and looked over at Aaron. "Come join me." Aaron walked over to were Norre sat and stood there. "Sit down." Norre instructed. The man gestured next to himself. It was chilly outside, nearly freezing, despite this Norre sat bare-chested. Perspiration beaded lightly over his muscular torso. There was little to no body fat on his sculpted features. Pale scars crisscrossed over his body and on his

shoulder. Aaron did not ask. He would not ask for answers if he himself was not willing to give his own.

Aaron seated himself next to Norre. He felt uncomfortable in the silence. Usually there was someone filling the silence with chatter. He looked about, trying to find, something to preoccupy his interest. Norre opened an eye again. "Just close your eyes and breathe. Relax." The old man instructed. Aaron did as he was told. It was very hard to relax though. How could he? "Just focus on staying warm. Take off your jacket." Norre continued. Aaron followed suit. The cold crept through his thin plaid shirt over shirt quickly. He began shivering. "Just tense your muscles and breathe. Learn to stay warm. Distance yourself." It was hard to hear Norre over the chattering of his teeth. Aaron did not see the logic in this. He made to get up. Aaron half expected Norre to stop him. The old man made no move to stop him. Naturally his guilt stopped him. He readjusted himself. It was cold and he tried his best to flex frozen muscles. It was hard to concentrate on that and breathing. After awhile he felt himself drifting off. He wasn't very sure if this was healthy, even so, he did his best.

He felt himself growing so cold that his shivering became a steady vibration from his core. His fists knotted into his pant legs as he tried to stave off the cold. Aaron's mind drifted within itself. It was different than when he was injured or restricted to his bed ,due to, his injuries. This retreat was purely on his own free will. His meditation was further facilitated by the cold and discomforts he was experiencing. He drifted past his own thoughts. There really weren't any there that could help him. Aaron's thoughts only provided more pondering and concentration. Right then, he needed, to concentrate on staying warm. He stepped farther in. Deeper. His mind brushed over something primal. Something raw and unknown. Well… It wasn't unknown. It was akin to him as his own skin. Even so, it shocked him, to his core. As he tried to find it again , his concentration, was already shattered. He opened his eyes with a slight gasp. His joints were stiff and his hands hurt from gripping his pant legs.

Norre stretched and stood up. "Well that was short lived." The old man muttered sarcastically. He said it in a good natured way.

Even so. Norre was a bit troubled. What kind of demons haunted this quite young man that he could not face the reflection, of his own soul for more than five minutes? Norre always reminded himself that he could not trust this man. He could not afford to hesitate to put a bullet in the back of this mans head, should he become, a threat to the people he loved. Not only was this a way to rehabilitate the boy but it was a way for Aaron to study him. Right now all he had gleaned, was that, Aaron was haunted. Not troubled. Just haunted. But what was he so haunted by?! It irked Norre. He had never really ever encountered anyone like Aaron. He was not suicidal and he was not homicidal. The boy lingered somewhere in between.

Because of this Norre constantly changed his tact and his mode of thought to try and understand Aaron.

Aaron stood alongside with Norre and shook his arms, to try and loosen up. Norre stooped down on his hands and toes. His hands were positioned directly under his shoulders. He used his toes to position his weight on his torso. He looked over at Aaron. "These are military style pushups. Before you'll ever touch weights or learn anything of use. We have to make sure you can actually stay on your feet. Your frail and sickly. I will make you strong again. Now watch carefully." Norre moved downwards slowly. The corded muscles in his torso flexed and provided him easy movement. Norre did forty of them easily without breaking a sweat. He was not a small man either. Aaron surmised that he may have weighed, easily, over two hundred pounds.

Norre stood up ,when finished, and grasped Aarons wrists and peered at them. He then felt his shoulders and his chest. "We will start you on four sets of ten for pushups and sit ups for today. After words we will try pull ups and finish with a light jog." Norre summarized. He gestured towards the ground. "Now it is time for you to try." Aaron nodded and moved down, adopting a similar pose. Norre moved about Aaron in a circle adjusting his form and pushing his pelvis down to a preferred level. Norre counted Aaron's pushups to ten. Aaron scarcely made it to ten.

The old man squatted down in front of him. "Just remember." He held up four fingers. "A set is ten. Your doing four sets. You have three more to do my friend." Norre said with a slight smile. "You may grow to resent me. But you will never forget what I have provided you." Aaron sat on his knees. He honestly didn't know what the man was talking about. It seemed that Norre sensed this ,from the expression, on his face. "I will give you the means to live your life."

These words spurred Aaron on. His body was weak but his heart beat reverently. A way to live his own life… He would take this chance, especially, if it was given to him. With this, on pure determination alone, he continued the rest of Norre's prescribed regimen. They were both surprised when he reached the end.

Aaron's body trembled from the exertions but his heart swelled. He had accomplished the challenge set out for him. At least there was one thing that he could succeed in doing. Maybe if he strove and continued to improve himself then he could find a way to solve this ache in his soul. Even now as sweat dripped down his body he remembered the pain that throbbed there. He placed a hand to his chest ,and, held it there awhile. Aaron's heartbeat reminded him that he was still alive. His heartbeat reminded him to strive for more. No one should have to feel the pain that he felt. Least of all, Cherry. For her he would grow stronger, ever, stronger. With these thoughts, Aaron used them, to push himself to his feet.

Norre watched the man stand to his feet. From over two decades of experience, Norre could see, a tired man when he saw one. This man was running on nothing but sheer determination. A new measure of respect dawned upon Norre. This determination was good. He turned and motioned to Aaron. "I suppose we can go for a jog to finish off." Even so Norre could not help but give himself a quick smile. This man was something different. Norre could already tell this man was meant for great things. He only hoped these things would make him famous…Not infamous.

As Norre turned and began to jog Aaron quailed inwardly. With a shake of his head and a clench of his fist he took up a ragged pace behind Norre. They jogged for what seemed like a long time. This in fact was only two laps around the neighborhood. After their jog they went inside Norre's house and drank water. It was an uncomfortable silence for Aaron as, Norre did not say anything unnecessary. The phone rang and Norre turned murmuring that he would be back. He walked into the living room to fetch his jacket. Aaron could hear him talking on his W.P.U.S. As Norre spoke on his phone Aaron stood and walked about the kitchen. The screen on his refrigerator showed a slideshow of photos. Some of them showed photos of Norre in a military outfit, others, showed Norre holding Cherry as a babe next to a woman. It was different to see Norre so young. The most surprising thing was that he smiled in these photos. Aaron had yet to see the stoic man smile. It was as if he had been carved from granite.

Norre returned to the kitchen. "Well it seems you have a job my friend." Norre said in a toneless voice. Inside Norre was more relieved that local grocery store had snatched him up so fast. Work would put money in Aaron's pockets and keep him out of trouble, hopefully, it would help him out.

"Your going to have to start talking just a bit. You'll be stocking shelves but you have to at least be able to communicate." Norre commented. He was not being mean either. Even in this day and age even those with handicaps were limited to what jobs they could do. Since he would be working in the inventory area, he would not, need to communicate very often with other people. This would be a good way to integrate him into the town and for people to get used to him.

"Thank you." Murmured Aaron. Those two words surprised the old man. He wasn't sure if the boy could even talk. This was a good sign. Norre turned and nodded his head. "I would do the same for anyone else as long as they had pure heart." Norre said.

A pure heart? Aaron did not understand the concept just yet. This old man spoke of it with reverence. Maybe it was something that Aaron would need to research. Well as soon as he was sure he could use Atlas's services again. He was unsure if should turn it on or not. He would try out the A.I.S. booklet later in the week when, he was more sure.

"I'm going to take a nap. You are welcome to go home if you like or rest here till Cherry gets back. I suspect you are tired." Norre said as he turned, to go, down the hallway to his room. Before he opened the door he turned slightly. "Do you have a name? Cherry calls you "Mr. Angel" ,but I suspect you have a name." Norre asked. Aaron blinked and opened his mouth. He shut it as if deciding on whether or not to speak.

"I am Aaron."

"Just Aaron?"

"I don't know." Aaron murmured. He didn't like saying it, nor did he, like admitting it out loud. If Norre was troubled by this, he did not mention it. The old man merely nodded and opened the door to his room. He disappeared inside and did not come out for the rest of the day.

Aaron did not go to Cherry's as he usually did. Instead he walked about Norre's house and stared at the photo viewers installed on the walls. Norre had been a different man once upon a time it seemed.

When he ran out of things to study and look through he moved to one of the bookshelves in Norre's living room. There books every were. One was a book on basic Psychology ,another, was a book on basic self defense. At the moment both interested him. He seated himself on the couch and began reading through the books, taking turns on each. Some words he did not understand, so he got up once again, and thumbed through Norre's collection of books and happened upon a digital dictionary.

For the rest of that day Aaron read through both books and pondered their ideals and teachings. The self-defense booklet was relatively simple. There were certain things he did not grasp, such as, passive aggressive, behavior. The psychology book had many more things that left him thinking in circles. The dictionary only helped him simplify words, but not, the context they were used in. Aaron suspected that some of the things he did not understand, were better suited, to real world experiences. He finished the books with two hours to spare, sleep beckoned, so he closed his eyes and napped awhile.

Norre awoke him later, with a touch, to the shoulder. He tapped his watch and handed Aaron his jacket. Aaron nodded and strode out the door. Cherry would be getting off her bus at her stop soon. Aaron was already late. He jogged to meet her. Oddly he did not feel to sore, he remembered, being exhausted on a morbid level. He did not pay attention to the fact. Aaron was glad that he had the extra energy to make up for the lost time.

---

Aaron met up with Cherry as she got off her bus. She grasped his hand and pulled him along as she talked about her day. Aaron listened patiently as he always did. He studied her, interested, in applying the logic provided by the books he had read. There was little about her that was dysfunctional. The psychology book claimed that there was something wrong with most people. There seemed to be nothing wrong with this little girl. Aaron found comfort in himself, he then, felt guilty for "studying" her as if she were a specimen. For this sole reason he devoted more of his attention to Cherry than he usually did. He pushed aside his troubles and ponderings for the remainder of the day. When Cherry asked how his time with Aaron had gone he answered with a smile and a nod of his head.

When they reached the house, after dinner, a phone call had come in. Cherry answered it and informed Aaron that he had work at the grocery store after Cherry got out of school. This worked out nicely for Aaron, it provided, time for him to train with Norre and get Cherry home.

Aaron retired early that night. Oddly he felt restless. It would be nice to be in a new environment, and, to get out more in Twin Rivers. His curiosity overrode much of his natural fears.

---

That next day Aaron walked Cherry to her bus stop as he always did and met Norre at his house. They trained again and meditated afterwards. Norre assured Aaron that he was already making progress. Aaron found this highly unlikely for only two days, though to be honest, the pushups were easier on his wrists. Maybe he was suited for these strenuous tasks? It did not matter. He was glad to be doing something with himself. In the meantime while he waited for Cherry to get out of school, he sat down, and read another book and started a new one. Norre had an interesting selection of books.

The old man shook his head when he saw that Aaron was reading two books at once. Aaron had been reading two different books the other day. Norre had seen them tucked under Aaron's arm as he had slept. The boy would learn nothing if he was reading that many books at once.

Aaron made no effort to assure Norre that he was reading them. The old man, had had the same reaction that

Cherry did. Aaron was worried by Cherry's reaction that Norre would think he was an abomination, Aaron just had a burning thirst for knowledge.

When it was time to go Aaron met Cherry and they walked from her bus stop to the grocery store, were, he would be working. She prattled on about his new job. "I'm so excited! We get a discount on groceries now and I get to come visit you from now on at your job! Some of the kids at my school called you a loser. I told the teacher and they got detention for talking about you, so I took care, of that." She said proudly as they walked on.

The grocery store was a short walk from their Cherry's house. She nudged him towards the front door. "Do a good job!" She said giving Aaron a thumbs up sign. Aaron walked inside.

A bell attached to the door rang, and the smell of, sterilized floors and counter tops assailed his nose.

"Can I help you?" A voice asked. Aaron turned and spotted an elderly woman behind the countertop in the small grocery store. He could not will himself to speak for a few minutes. The old woman began turning her head away.

"I am here for the job opening." Aaron responded. The old lady smiled. It was hard to see within her craggy face. She seemed kind enough. She gestured to Aaron.

"Come youngin' lets have a look at you." The old woman said holding out a hand. Aaron nodded and slowly, walked forwards to the old lady. She rested a hand on his shoulder and looked him over. She had him smile for her and then checked his arms. "Well you isn't a drug addict. I canne' piss test ya since you ain't got no I.D.. Well… So says Norre and the doc. Their word is as good as any." She muttered. The old lady patted Aaron on the cheek. "My name is Bertha. I'll be teachin' ya' how to work things in the back, around here." The old lady grasped his wrist and pulled him forward. Aaron inwardly cringed from the old lady. He could hardly understand what she said, due to her, accent. Not to mention her mode of speech, she was, very gruff. It was hard to not be nervous around the woman. On top of this she was a chatter box. She pointed out the different aisles and spoke of what each one contained, even, though they were clearly marked.

Bertha was a hefty woman with pale gray hair. She trembled with age, when she moved. She smelt ,heavily, of coffee and cigarettes. The smell of her and the sound of her voice together were quickly giving Aaron a mild headache.

The old lady turned, "You don't like talkin' much do ya?" She sighed, letting go of his wrist, to place her hands on her wide hips. "You got a name? I hire people without papers but I don't work people that are too quite." Bertha said with a piercing stare.

"Aaron." He whispered.

"What's that?" Bertha said, none to kindly.

"My name…"

"What about it?"

"My name is Aaron."

The old lady cracked a wide grin. "Now was that so hard?" She clapped Aaron on the back. "Me and you are gonna get along just fine."

The rest of that day Aaron followed the old woman around, dutifully. He learned quickly were the different boxes were kept. Bertha would pay him three dollars under minimum wage for the first three months before she moved him to minimum wage. She had spoken that it costed to much money to train someone and have them leave in under three months. Leaving travelers left them shorthanded, so she did not pay full minimum wage, to people without papers and documentation.

This did not bother Aaron overly much considering he really did not have much use for the money. Norre had recommended that he work, so had Cherry. He did not understand the emphasis on making money. Aaron did not have any previous experience (To his knowledge), with money. He did not yet see the importance in having so much money. Aaron doubted that he would ever find the importance of those sheets of paper.

Bertha let Aaron go home early since he had caught on so quickly. It was going to be a short day so she did not need him there.

---

Over the next few days Aaron continued going to the grocery store for work after his time with Norre, and picking up Cherry from her bus stop. Aaron began to feel as if he belonged. During this time he had nearly forgotten that he had no recollections of his past. He was content to forego everything in this small town. Every once in a while he had nightmares that awoke him with a bloody lip. He began to ignore them. Soon altogether those left his mind. The pain still lingered though. After all that time it pulsed as feverently as an infected wound. His body grew stronger though, and his mind grew stronger. His ponderings turned to questions to Norre and they began to have small conversations. He even began to speak more with Cherry. She finally, actually, knew his name.

Those days turned into weeks. Soon he even made a friend of the female that worked as the cashier in the grocery store. They exchanged pleasantries and sometimes spoke on topics. He found the female entrancing. Aaron found himself staring at he sometimes. Her name was Erika Roscoe. He was entranced her shoulder length, blonde hair and blue eyes. She was a head shorter than him and had a small frame. Aaron found that he himself fancied her.

When he discussed his feelings for this female Norre burst out with laughter during their meditations. He had commented, "It is good that you are truly a man of context." Aaron had yet to know what he had meant by this. By now he found that everything, obscure or not, that Norre said was important. The man spoke riddles more often than not. Aaron found that the reason he spoke riddles, was because it was up to Aaron, to find the answers himself in some things. The old man answered a question with a question more often than not. Their daily exercises grew more intense. Their jogs turned into hikes or mile runs and they had taken to working with weights sometimes. Norre always complemented Aaron on his ability to grasp the essence of the physical labor. Norre mentioned such things more often as he began, teaching Aaron, martial arts.

Not only did the labor and work give Aaron a sense of belonging but it soon began to give him a sense of self worth. More of the older people in the town began to acknowledge Aaron's presence in the town. Many of them nodded to him in greeting when he passed by.

The people of the town were close knit. Many of them had come from large cities ,or were veterans, whom had come to settle down for a quiet lifestyle.

Aaron did not mind this lifestyle at all, in fact, he began to embrace it all together.

---

Aaron stacked a few boxes in the back of the store. He opened one and loaded a few cans of vegetables into the cart and pushed it out towards the front were he would stock them. It was almost time for him to get off and go home for the night. The day had been another slow and shapeless day as it had commonly been. Before he walked through the doors, Aaron moved towards the back of the stock room, away from the camera and hopped onto his hands. He maneuvered around on his hands and pushed himself up and down.

He constantly marveled at the physical prowess he was now attaining. Aaron shook his head. He was wasting time again though. The work shift was almost at an end. After he stocked this last shelve he was done for the day.

He pushed the cart out, and balanced his toes on the back of it, riding it out the door. Aaron stocked the self with the needed canned vegetables and pushed the cart back through the swinging doors, to the, stockroom.

Yawning, he walked towards the front, untying his apron. There was an elderly woman at the front. Aaron recognized her when he got closer. It was Mrs. Stevenson coming to get her bread and milk for the week.

"Aaron could you take Mrs. Stevenson's groceries to her car for her?" Erika asked. As always Aaron was quick to

say yes. He grasped the old woman's bags in his hands. Mrs. Stevenson patted him on the cheek.

"Bertha was good to hire such a gentleman. There aren't very many of you left these days." The old lady said gratefully. She turned and looked over at Erika. "This here, is a good man Erika. He's the type you should look for."

Both Erika and Aaron blushed, making brief eye contact. Aaron looked away and carried the old woman's bags to her car. He set them in her trunk and was tipped a ten. He tucked it in his pocket and walked inside.

Aaron took out the ten and passed it to Erika. "Could you break this for me?"

Erika nodded and passed him two fives. Aaron slid one of the fives to her.

"You don't have too." Erika said with a smile. Aaron shrugged his shoulders.

"I wouldn't have gotten the tip if you hadn't asked me to take her groceries for her." Aaron said to make her feel better. It was the truth after all.

"Well since your such a gentleman I guess it wouldn't hurt to invite you to hangout sometime." Erika said. She pulled a pen from her apron and pulled a scrap sheet of paper from the register and wrote on it.

Erika handed the piece of paper to Aaron. There was an address written on it.

"There's going to be a get together, tomorrow night, at the McGregor's house. Maybe you'll show up if you have time?" She asked. Aaron nodded dumbly and thanked her. He took off his apron and hung it up, before clocking out, and leaving. Aaron did not know what to do in a situation like this. He didn't have to work the next day. Even so, should he go? Maybe he would consult Cherry about it when he got home.

Cherry had a field day. She had Aaron repeat the exchange of words and what had happened three times.

"I'm so happy for you Aaron! She invited you out on a date!" Cherry squeaked.

"Really?" Aaron asked dumbly. Cherry sighed in frustration and grasped Aaron's hand. She pulled him into her room. Cherry shut the door and turned to Aaron.

"You can't tell my dad about what your about to see." Cherry said seriously. Aaron nodded.

"I wont." He promised.

"Okay then." Cherry murmured. She reached under her bed and pulled out a small stack of magazines. They were teen and women's magazines. "Dad doesn't like me to read these things." She crossed her arms over her chest for a few moments. "As much as he shelters me how else am I supposed to find things out?"

Cherry dug through the magazines and flipped through them. She pulled one out and read a piece of it aloud. "Sometimes if you like a guy you can ask him out. If he accepts then that means he was some kind of interest. Be aware that some guys may feel intimidated by a female that is too-" Cherry cut off the sentence and shut the magazine. "This means she might like you Aaron!"

Aaron rubbed his chin.

"Are you sure you can trust such an biased source of information?" Aaron asked. He was familiar with the source materials Cherry used. Many of them were a compilation of opinions from people on T.V..

Cherry rolled her eyes.

"Whatever that means… Anyways." She said leaning forward. "We need to go out tomorrow and get you some clothes, a hair cut, and some new shoes."

"Why?" Aaron asked. "It is only a "get together"."

Cherry nearly screamed in frustration. She clamped her hands over her mouth and closed her eyes. Aaron did not

understand why she would get so heated over such a small matter.

"You have to look your best to impress Erika! Do you like her?"

"I suppose. She is nice."

"Then we have to make sure you look your best." Cherry reasoned.

"But what if I don't have the money to do all the things you said?" Aaron asked. Cherry tapped a finger to her lips.

"Well how much money do you have?"

"One moment. Let me go get it." Aaron murmured. He left and returned with a wad of hundreds. Cherry went pale with surprise. She snatched the money from his hand and counted it out.

"Aaron… Do you know how much money you have here?" Cherry asked in a whisper. Aaron felt that something was wrong. Either that or he did not have enough money.

"No. How much?"

"You have nearly two thousand dollars in cash here!" Cherry hissed.

"is it enough?"

Cherry stared at him as if he were stupid ,when he asked.

"What is it?"

"This is more than enough! You could have been buying me a present on my birthday with this!" she grumbled. "We could have eaten burgers everyday with this, instead, of dads crappy spaghetti!"

"Cherry! Please watch you language!" Aaron said, shocked.

"Well excuse me! You've had all this cash just floating around in your room?" Asked Cherry.

"No, it has been in my drawer." Aaron answered back.

"And you haven't spent any of it?"

"No. Why?"

"Why?" Said Cherry Shrilly. She grasped her hair. Cherry took a few minutes to catch her breath. "Here's what we are going to do. We are going to get you a haircut, a new outfit, and a pair of shoes for tomorrow."

Aaron nodded. He did not want to pester her any farther. The man was confident she would literally pull out her hair.

Aaron listened to her prattle on a little while longer to be polite. He left her room for his and grasped his A.I.S. booklet. He opened it and tapped the screen. It flickered and came to life.

Good afternoon_ The words appeared on the screen.

"Good day to you Atlas. I apologize that I have not been able to get back to you sooner." Aaron murmured.

It is perfectly fine. This one does not have emotions to recognize hurt or emotional distress._ The A.I.S. booklet answered. The program was very impersonal yet polite. It was an odd combination. It was not off putting, but then again, in many ways it reminded the user that it was nothing but a program.

"Do you have any data from my last use of your systems?" Aaron asked hopefully. This would be one of the few times he would have to himself. He desperately hoped the little machine had salvaged some information.

Negative_ Atlas answered. Aaron's hopes fell. The information was his only link to his past. He would have left the subject alone under other circumstances, but he needed closure. Now his closure was gone. He did not think he had the time to research all the data again. Aaron doubted he would. He noticed that Norre always pushed him to stay active. Norre always Cherry and him to run about the town or to spend time together. It seemed to him that Norre wished for him to forget the past too. Maybe this was the right thing to do…

Aaron closed his eyes and sighed. He would deal with this pain. Now, he had people he cared about, a life worth living. In the beginning, he had had nothing. Now he had something.

"For her." Aaron whispered. He closed the A.I.S. booklet, after this, he unclipped its battery cell.

Aaron stared at the battery cell for a long time. He sighed and slid it, and its components under his bed. Never again… Never again would he use that machine. It would only provide a temptation for him to search for his past. The past could stay the past forevermore now.

He got up and lay on his bed, and stared at the ceiling for the longest time. Thankfully, that night, Aaron did not have any terrible dreams.

---

Johan Sven was alerted, the moment the stray signal the W.S.A. had flagged, logged online. He had been sitting, typing up a report to the W.S.A.'s benefactors.

A box popped up in the middle of his screen, just as he, had programmed it to do. He clicked the box, and the screen switched. Across the blue screen, number scrolled. An zip code appeared, next an, address appeared. The signal originated from the Twin Rivers area. Johan wasn't sure if the signal was their man.

He made a phone call and listened silently to the given instructions.

"You are sure this is the man your looking for?"

"Yes."

"What if your wrong?"

"Trust me. I rarely ever am wrong. I made the mistake in letting this get worse than it already has Mr. Sven. I will not make another mistake."

"Alright… I'll send the closest team in within forty eight hours." Johan murmured.

"Mr. Sven?"

"Yes sir?"

"I'll be sending one of my men in with the teams to make sure things go smoothly. They can make sure that there will not be a misstep in your teams part."

Johan held his tongue. The man was a major contributor to the W.S.A. he could not afford to mess things up. Already because of this man they had saved thousands of people, they had also, provided more shelters for those in need. Less soldiers and operatives died in the field, because they had better intelligence and equipment. The man was a terrorist

anyways, so he was told. At least Johan could make sure the man was given a fair trial before they put him down as a terrorist. He had to be sure that in one aspect… that what he was doing was right.

"One more thing Mr. Sven."

"Yes?"

"If you make any mistakes ,there will be much paperwork for you to fill out. This paperwork will not be to your benefit."

---

Cherry woke him up early that morning. She stuck her face in his and poked his cheek. "Hey wake up! We're wasting time!" She exclaimed.

Aaron sat up and began to pull on pair pants. Cherry shook her head and tossed him a shirt and jacket. "Don't wear anything fancy, you're going to be trying on some new outfits." She said, pushing him up, and out his bedroom. He could scarcely dress himself and get on his shoes before she had dragged him outside.

It was a good thing this was a small town or else he would have been in more trouble. As it stood, it was, bitterly cold outside. Cherry did not seem perturbed by this. As a matter of fact, it seemed to, encourage her more. She grasped his arm and tugged him down the street, towards, the clothing boutiques.

"What about the money?" Aaron asked groggily.

"I already got one hundred dollars from your drawer." Cherry said without a misstep.

"What time is it?" Aaron mumbled.

"It's only eight am you baby." The little girl said in irritation. It seemed more today than any other day, she was more, irritable. Aaron tilted his head to the side and pondered why.

The cold air helped to clear his senses and rouse him faster. Maybe she was starting her period? Aaron had read about it. Was she old enough? It didn't matter. He did not bring this up as he followed Cherry.

As soon as they reached the first boutique Cherry was already bringing him to the men's department and picking out several pairs of shirts and pants.

The rest of the day consisted of this. This was all so Cherry could pick two outfits for Aaron. In all they only spent seventy dollars. Aaron felt this was ludicrous. He was only going to a get together with Erika, not dating her. Why go through so much trouble to find two outfits.

Cherry claimed, one of them, was for everyday, the other one was for his "date" with Erika. Aaron only shook his head and dutifully followed her. Finally Cherry allowed them to stop at a fast food restaurant. Aaron had not eaten. Upon checking the restaurants clock, it revealed, they had been running about the town for three hours looking for two outfits. At least Cherry had deliberated that his shoes would do with the outfits. This was after Aaron asked if it was really necessary for a new pair of shoes.

Oddly for the first time in a long time, they ate in silence, Cherry did little to eat. This was odd. Cherry did not ever maintain her silence, unless, she was taking a bite of food.

Aaron asked her once, if something, was wrong. She only smiled wanly and nibbled at her burger. This deeply troubled Aaron. The girl always talked. Something was on her mind. She had seemed fine earlier.

The walk home too was in silence. The rest of that day until, the time, came for them to go was in a frigid silence. Cherry only spoke whenever she needed Aaron to do something for her. Oddly enough, Cherry constantly checked the time.

Could it be? Was she nervous? To be honest Aaron felt a bit faint and was unsure whether he was getting sick or not.

The time came and Cherry stood, sliding on her jacket. She turned and smiled at Aaron. "Well lets go Aaron. Your big date is coming up."

Aaron nodded and slid on his jacket. Cherry had made him wear his outfit so, when the time, came they could leave. Since Aaron, did not know the town so well yet, Cherry had volunteered herself to be his escort. The house was not far away.

As they walked down the street, towards the sunset, Aaron asked her once more.

"Cherry?"

"What is it Aaron?" Cherry asked impatiently. She did not turn towards Aaron. She only continued walking forwards.

"Is something wrong?" Aaron asked softly.

"No." She said quietly. Aaron looked at her and grasped her shoulder.

"Please. Tell me, Cherry. You matter to me." He said. Cherry closed her eyes and shoved him back. The motion shocked Aaron. Never before had she ever done such a thing to Aaron, even when they wrestled or played games. "Why? Are you starting puberty?" Aaron asked. He was truly concerned. This little girl had been at the center of his life, every day, since he had first woken on the shore of Twin Rivers.

Cherry ran forwards and slammed her fist against Aaron's chest.

"Your such an idiot! You don't get it Aaron!" She cried. Cherry trembled. Aaron grasped her shoulders and pushed her back to look into her eyes.

"If you tell me, I will try with all I am, to understand." Aaron whispered tenderly. He pulled her forwards and wrapped his arms about her. His heart was breaking for her. Aaron felt as if his soul were shattering. He could feel her sadness and bitterness almost literally.

Cherry broke from his hug and turned away from him. Her shoulders shook. She turned to him, tears streaming, from her face.

"I love you Aaron. Dammnit Aaron I love you!" She cried out. Aaron stepped forward to grasp her in his arms again.

"Please Cherry, you mustn't say such things." Aaron consoled. Cherry pushed his arms away, but still, Aaron grasped her and pulled her in. He tucked his head down and did a most terrifying thing for him. Aaron rested his lips against her forehead. "I love you too Cherry." This only made Cherry cry more. She looked up at him and rested a hand on his cheek.

"You don't love me like I love you Aaron." She said, smiling bitterly. Cherry stood on her toes and pressed a tentative kiss against his. Aaron pulled away.

"Cherry what are you doing?" He asked, shocked.

"Showing you what I mean." Cherry said softly. It hurt her to see him pull away. "I knew that would happen, I just, didn't expect it to hurt so bad."

"What are you talking about Cherry? I don't understand." Aaron said again. He was growing frustrated.

Cherry stood there awhile with her eyes downcast. She shook her head.

"Its nothing. Just… Just make sure you have a good time okay?" Cherry reached out and squeezed his hand gently. "That girl… She sounds like a good girl." She murmured. Even so, Aaron was still confused.

"What is going on Cherry?" Aaron asked. "Please… talk to me?"

Cherry turned and began to walk away. She turned her head to the side.

"There is just to much of a time difference. Its wrong. Just forget this ever happened. When you come home, I'll still be there waiting for you, and you still be an idiot." Cherry said. With this said, Cherry walked down the street and disappeared around a corner.

Aaron shook himself and turned back to the house. He was deeply troubled and saddened by what had just happened. Cherry had wanted him to go to this, "get together", very badly. As badly as he wished to go home he did as she had wanted him too. But how could he be sure? Aaron sighed and continued to the front lawn. As he walked onto the front lawn he could hear the music inside. There were plastic cups on the front lawn with other pieces of trash.

He picked his way through them and made his way past a sea of people and smoke. Aaron felt heady. The smoke did not help him feel better. He was more than comfortably sure these people were drinking alcohol. Aside, from this fact Aaron was sure that many of these people were also drinking under the age limit. Amidst the smoke, people, and music Aaron spotted Erika.

She was dressed in an outfit that showed more skin than Aaron felt was necessary. Erika stood with her hair, hanging down to the side, dressed in a low cut top and a shorter skirt. In one hand she held a cup, the other, a cigarette. This was a harsh contrast to who she was at work.

She spotted Aaron and waved to him. Aaron inclined his head to her and made his way through the throng of people. She had to shout over the music.

"Hey! Glad you could make it!" She shouted.

"Yes. I suppose. What is going on here?" Aaron asked, looking about.

"Oh my college is out for the next two weeks on a break, we're having a little party!" She said with a grin. "Grab a drink and enjoy yourself Aaron!"

"No thanks! Many of the people here, I suspect, are drinking under the age limit!" He shouted back. This remark attracted a few stares. Some of the people had stopped talking.

"I wouldn't say things like that." Erika said in his ear. "People here don't really ever cause trouble. Everyone is just here to have a good time."

Aaron nodded and shrugged his shoulders.

"That doesn't mean its right!" Aaron retorted. As he finished said this a large man came from behind Erika. He wore a old leather jacket, and loose, fitting jeans. The man smelled of too much cologne and had a perpetually jutting jaw. He looked from Erika to the Aaron.

"Babe do you know this guy?" He asked. The man radiated violence and aggression.

Erika looked at Aaron and back at the man.

"No." She said looking down her nose at him. Aaron felt insulted. This time he knew what was going on. Why would she act this way towards him?

"Good then. Get lost man. People don't like you being around here." He pointed to the door. Many people cheered him on. Aaron did not need further incentive. It seemed that Erika was someone much more different than whom he thought she was. Aaron felt very sad indeed. It seemed that, more and more people that Aaron met, had dark hearts.

He could hear the man walking behind him, making sure, that he left. All of a sudden Aaron tripped on the ground. Someone had thrust there foot in front of his.

"Get up man. I don't have all day." The man jeered. Aaron felt a hand on his arm, tugging him upwards, none to kindly. He turned and shoved the man whom grasped his arm. Aaron could have gotten up himself. The mans touch was little more than an insult.

The man shoved Aaron back, through the front door. There was much laughter at the two of them. Aaron could sense the mans growing irritation. As he turned around there was a snarl on the mans face.

"I was only trying to help you up you douche bag." The man spat.

"I don't need your help." Aaron replied without emotion.

"Not mine, just a mental hospital you freak." The man muttered. "Everyone knows that your probably diddling with Mr. Norre's granddaughter." He said. The people on the front porch laughed. Someone threw a cup at Aaron. It struck him in the face, splashing beer, over him.

Instead of sadness this time, fury grew beneath Aaron's breast. He turned away to leave. There was another shove from the man. Instead of letting it pass, Aaron turned and backhanded the man in the face. His knuckles hit the man in the eye, skinning his brow. A trickle of blood came down his face, and over, his cheek. The man tensed and his expression turned more animalistic.

"I do not wish to fight you." Aaron said clearly, with his hands held up. It might have been a better idea, that, he not strike the man. Now was not the time to deliberate such matters. The man only shook his head.

"You should have left and shut your mouth." The man said, squaring up on Aaron. Aaron backed away from the man.

"I apologize. Can we talk about this?" He asked sincerely.

"Not a chance. Not until I knock you out ,you piece of trash." The man snarled. He advanced, and Aaron backed away. As Aaron backed away he felt hands push him forward. It seemed that more people had been alerted to come outside, and see the spectacle. A large man against a man half his size. They were nothing more than animals… The way they acted was less than that of animals in fact. Animals had a hierarchy of some sort. These monsters did not.

As Aaron was shoved forward the man swung. Aaron ducked under it and shoved the man into the people. He looked about for a way out. He only wanted to go home and forget this.

The man turned and grasped Aaron by the shoulder to spin him around. Aaron turned with the pull, faster than the man anticipated, and pulled the man forward. The man fell to the ground again. More people laughed and pointed. Some of them began to record the spectacle.

Aaron's opponent stood and circled him in the ring of people.

"Now your going to get it you piece of trash pedophile!" The man yelled. He rushed Aaron, swinging a fist. Just then a woman's voice cried out. It was shrill and loud.

"Chris! Stop it!" Aaron turned to see whom it was. It was Erika.

The time that Aaron turned to see whom had spoken gave Chris the time to punch Aaron in the chin. The blow sent Aaron to the ground, heavily. He pushed himself up and shook his head. Stars floated in his vision. As Chris came over and

pulled him up by his shirt, Aaron looked over at Erika. She looked away and turned away. Her act of uncaring took away the pain of Chris's fist slamming into his stomach again and again.

Even so the pain returned quickly. Aaron felt another hammer fist, slam into his cheekbone, splitting it open. His body soon acted on its own. On reflex, Aaron grasped the mans hand, at his pressure point and pried his hand free. Aaron's hands came up and grasped the mans shoulder with hand.

He slammed a fist into Chris's eyes again and again. Since the man was bigger and possibly intoxicated, Aaron could not afford to be gentle.

When Chris brought his arms up to ward of the blows, Aaron turned and swung a leg into the side, of the mans temple. The blow rocked Chris on his heels. He had not expected such an attack from such a smaller man, least of all, with such ferocity.

The flinching was all Aaron needed. He slammed another fist into the side of the big mans head, alternating each side. Chris brought his arms over his head and tried to push Aaron back with a shoulder. Aaron persisted.

The man began growing desperate from the pain being inflicted. With wild eyes he through a wild punch. Aaron anticipated it and slid past it easily. With a quick motion he slammed a fist into the Chris's jaw. He brought his arm back and slammed his palm into the big mans nose. Aaron swore he could hear the sound of something breaking. It was most likely the cartilage in the Chris's nose.

Blood flecked through the air. There was dead silence. A man came over and shook Chris. He patted the man on the cheek and shook him more. Someone else came over grasped Chris's wrist. There was screaming.

"Someone call 911! He's not breathing!" A man shouted.

Arms grasped at Aaron. He recoiled, punching, kicking, and biting at anyone and anything that touched him. He wanted no more of these people. He only wanted to go home!

As he struggled he felt something slam into the side of his head. His legs crumpled beneath him and he fell. Another blow slammed down on his back and then on the back of his head. After that there was only merciful darkness.

---

Samuel Wersmyer sat up in bed and grasped his W.P.U.S.. It flashed green, violet, then red in an alternating pattern. It was the signification of an emergency call to arms.

He was part of the W.S.A.'s field operations. This meant he was constantly getting called in for false alarms. Every once in a while he was actually called in for something that meant to security of the better half of, one hemisphere of the world. This type of business had long since lost its bravado. He had done many things he was not proud of, those that he was proud of, he was not allowed even allowed to talk about.

He sat up out of bed. Already he missed the warm bed and the sound of his wife's breathing next to him. At least his children were asleep upstairs. He hated to leave them when they could see him go. Not even his family knew of his active field duty. If he died over seas or in enemy territories then he was to be left there and his body unclaimed. He was scared of leaving his loved ones behind. Even so Samuel risked it. He had to do this. His job paid good money and provided benefits for his sickly daughter.

Samuel sighed and pulled on his clothes. He climbed into his car and began the short drive to the W.S.A. compound, were he would be debriefed and outfitted for his operation. That in itself was a dreadful experience. Half the men he would be meeting there he hardly knew. Some of them he would have never have met before. Samuel was just one of the ones that called in.

It was never nice to be in a room full of, on edge, trained killers. His retirement was three years down the road. At least he had that to look forward to. This was if he even survived this year.

Samuel climbed out of his car and stomped his feet, to try and ward off the bitter cold. Shook his head and turned to go into the compound. He had gotten here a few minutes early. Getting there so early would allow him to get a fresh cup the W.S.A.'s disgusting coffee.

Before he could scarcely take another step, he felt, a hand clamp over his mouth. It wasn't someone playing a joke on him. The operatives were not ones to horse around with one another. They were all trained to kill or be killed in a real time combat situation. Knowing this, Samuel did not feel bad when he reached for his assailants wrist and reached for his gun.

Sadly, things did not go as Samuel had planned. When he jerked on his assailants wrist, his attacker did not jerk forward, and get thrown off balance. His hand was slapped away from his gun and brought behind his back. No. Instead the hand clamped over his mouth squeezed tighter in a vice like grip. Samuel would have screamed if it weren't for the bones snapping in his face, like so many, dry twigs.

He frantically reached for his sidearm. It was gone! His eyes rolled in the back of his head madly as his assailant lifted him by his face, as if, he were no more than a struggling kitten. There was a piercing sensation in the back of his neck. His legs jerked and his arms flailed, as something crushed his spinal column. He did not die. His body had grown paralyzed and numb. Still he was mad with fear for a few precious seconds before his heart gave out.

A few minutes later, the "new" Samuel Wersmyer returned. He had dumped the, "old" Samuel's body in the trunk of his car. He took out his pistol and spun it on his finger experimentally, as if, he was from an old country western film. The "new" Samuel smiled and walked towards the compound.

---

Aaron opened his eyes slowly. He quickly shut them. The dim lights hurt his eyes. It was unbearably cold.

"I figured you might do something stupid. I just didn't realize you'd screw up this bad." Muttered a voice. Aaron turned his head towards the voice and cracked his eyes open a but. There was caked blood on his cheek and on the back of his head. It was Montag speaking to him. Montag was in his uniform, and Aaron quickly realized he was the one in the cell. "You killed one man and injured three other people." Montag muttered. "This doesn't look good for you." Montag muttered. He chuckled and leaned back in his chair. "I'm going to enjoy this night. I'll be the one taking you to your trial too." The officer bragged.

Aaron looked away and closed his eyes. He had killed a man… Aaron played the scenes back in his mind. He could remember the man falling. Chris… That was his name. God! Why could he not remember his name clearly?

It was the look in Chris's eyes that haunted Aaron. His eyes had been open and wide. Chris had been dazed. When Aaron hit him in the nose the final time, that had ended the mans life. He had been dead before he hit the ground.

Aaron could hear Montag's voice in the background. He ignored it and curled himself up in a ball, on the corner of his bench, and tucked his face from view. Sleep overtook Aaron again. Even so the scenes played back in his head again. He watched himself attack the man again and again. No matter how he looked at it, there was, no way could justify what he had done!

He could have stopped or held off, given the man, enough time to reveal whether or not he would give in or not! Then he remembered Erika's face. His body trembled with fury. That woman… He couldn't just blame it on her though. What about Cherry? How would she do the next day without him there for her?!

Aaron bit his lip and fought his hopeless urge to cry. What would he do? What could he do? Why him?

Aaron awoke to see Montag responding to a call on his W.P.U.S.. He got up and ran from the cell room. Aaron had no idea what was going on. This meant that it could not be any good right now. Something terribly wrong was happening.

Aaron stood up near the back of his cell and slid down into a sitting position. There were two distinct gunshots,

then a distinct silence. The lights flickered off in the building. For a few minutes, Aaron had only his breathing, to keep him company in the cold darkness.

The lights flickered on and off in the building. There were lights flashing in the building, strafing back and forth.

The air grew colder in the room, Aaron was in. He could see his breath before his face. Still the temperature dropped farther. He wrapped his arms about himself and shivered. The lights flickered again. It was the electrical systems

switching to their emergency backup systems. In the silence he could hear the sound of bare feet on the linoleum floor. Aaron turned and looked out from his cell. He saw nothing.

The sound persisted. It grew closer to Aaron's cell. He looked again. What he saw made his hair stand on end.

In the cold linoleum floor, footsteps appeared, made by a warm, child's foot. His cell door shook and rattled. It slid open silently before him. He stood there not knowing what to do. Aaron stepped forwards and looked about the room to see if any was looking, or maybe, even pulling a hoax on him. There was no one.

As he looked down at the cell door, the lights flickered again. For a split second he swore he spotted a pale little girl, no older, than Cherry standing there. The little girl had been dressed in a pure white dress, and was holding the door open…

He wrapped his arms about him and backed away from the cell door. Just then though, the door was kicked in. Three men stood in the hallway. Two were pressed against the sides of the hallway. The third spotted him and aimed his rifle at Aaron.

Aaron dived from his cell, just in time as bullets scythed through the air above him. He landed on his side, and rolled behind a desk. Aaron heard a pause in the fire. He took this momentary pause to lift the desk and bodily hurl it across the room, at the three men. Without pausing, he had crossed the room. One of the people had dodged the desk. He lifted the barrel of his rifle and sighted down its length at Aaron.

Aaron moved to the side and slapped the rifle down. Bullets thudded into the ground at Aaron's feet. His fist came up and slammed into the mans goggles. He pulled it back again and jabbed the man in the throat. The man crumpled, giving Aaron, time to moved the rifle from his grasp and strike him in the face with it. This time he did not feel bad for hurting another.

He knew nothing of these men and would defend himself. So, before the other two could recover, he took the rifle in his hands and pressed the trigger. The bullets, at such a close range, turned the men into a shower of blood and flesh. Aaron turned and left without looking, taking the rifle with him, it would be needed. He crept down the hallways, unsure if anyone else was in the building. Occasionally he had to step over a fallen object. There was no doubt in his mind that it was a dead body.

Once he made it outside he knew were he was. He turned and oriented himself. Looking in all directions, he sprinted, across the street, to a fence. Aaron hopped up and grasped it and swung himself over. He landed in someone's backyard. There was a dark shape in the grass, not to far, from him. He crept forward and inspected it. It was another body. This person had been lined up against their fence and executed.

As much as it disgusted him and horrified him to examine a body and to creep around with a gun, the books, that he had read at Norre's taught him to learn. He needed to know about his enemies. Aaron did not need to know why they were doing this, he only needed to know the best way to stop them. He had to get to Cherry.

Aaron moved across the backyard and, this time, peeked over the fence before hopping it. He moved slowly. There were men with guns, moving through many of the houses in Twin Rivers.

In a little under an hour, Aaron made it to Cherry's house. He slid over the fence and dashed up to the backdoor. Sure enough there were men inside the house, lurking about. He could make out their laser targeting scopes, strafing about the house.

Aaron tried a back window, sure enough it was unlocked, he slid in and moved to the doorway, of the building. He opened the door slowly, and peeked down, the hallway. The lights were on in the living room. That was good. He could maneuver through the back part of the house and search for Cherry.

Aaron crept along the hallway and peeked into rooms, relying on moonlight, to see.

"Cherry?" He whispered. He dared not say her name louder, for fear, they would hear him. Aaron crept along farther, closer to the men, whispering. "Cherry?"

Part of him hoped he would not get an answer or find her body. This would mean that she was gone. The other half hoped to find her and make sure she was okay. "Cherry?" He whispered again. One of the lights turned and flashed down the hallway in Aaron's direction.

Aaron fell backwards into the shadows of the hallway. There was a whimper above his head. He looked up in the hallway. A section of the ceiling moved back slowly. Cherry! His heart leapt in joy and fear. She moved to open it farther.

Aaron shook his head. She was safe in the attic.

The house had been built with a concealed attic entrance for the sake of style and appearances. Montag had, thankfully, not changed this design.

"Stay here. I'll be back." Aaron mouthed to her. She nodded and whimpered softly.

Aaron set his teeth and breathed deep. He would protect her. She was precious to him.

He crept down the hall towards the lights. He needed to kill them or incapacitate them so he could Cherry out of there. Aaron leveled his rifle before him as he slid against the wall. He spotted them in the living room and dining room. One of them was going through the fridge. He could see both of them clearly. Two quick shots could do them in. The only thing, was that Aaron, was not the only one here now. If there was too much commotion, others would come. He had to get Cherry out of there.

Aaron struggled to come up with a plan. He moved, and while the other dug through the fridge he, used his rifle to pull the one in the living room away, twisting his arm holding the rifle, behind his back. He couldn't have the man shooting off rounds and alerting everyone. Basic physiology taught him that this would momentarily make a persons hand go numb. The man thrashed and flailed about, so Aaron had to pull him away quickly. He had to do this fast and accurately. Right now he could not afford to hesitate.

He pulled the man into Cherry's room and threw him down in the bed. He tangled himself in the blankets. Aaron grasped a pillow and shoved it into the mans face and kicked his wrist. The man dropped his gun and shouted into the pillow pressed into his mouth.

Aaron punched the man in the groin. As the man curled up, he pulled the pillow away, and jerked the man to the floor. There was a dull thump that Aaron could not avoid. He took his foot and stepped with his weight ,on the mans throat, between his breastplate and helmet. Aaron stepped on the mans throat and twisted quickly.

One of the mans arms got free of the blanket and reached wildly for his gun. Aaron stepped on the mans arm and held him there till he died. He slid off and crept from the room. The other one had not heard the man hit the ground. Aaron did not know how he hadn't noticed. That did not matter though. Aaron was grateful for it though.

He crept behind the man and slid a knife from the wooden stand they rested in. Aaron moved towards the man slowly, holding the knife. The man turned as Aaron moved. Aaron grasped his rifle ,pulling, and stabbed the man through his cheek, into the back of his throat. He had meant to stab the man in the back of the neck and end him quickly. This was just as well. The man was threatening Cherry. He would die whatever way fate chose. The man gurgled, and hot, blood poured on Aaron's hand. Through all this though, he lowered the man slowly to the ground, were he shuddered a few more moments. Aaron watched to make sure the man was truly dead.

He turned and moved down through the rest of the house, making sure it was clear. Aaron walked down the hallway and knocked on the attic door. "Cherry." He whispered. "Lets go honey."

The door slid open. Cherry reached out and grasped Aaron. He held her tightly. Her heart beat a tattoo against his chest. Despite his weariness, this pushed him on, his adrenaline alone would wear off soon. He had to hope for something more. "Close your eyes sweetheart." Aaron whispered.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and tucked her head under his chin. Aaron moved slowly because of the extra weight and to avoid moving patrols.

Based on the texts he had read he had a basic idea of were the closest town was. If he could make it out of Twin Rivers, he might be home free. He could only hope that Norre could take care of himself.

God! Why was this happening?

He couldn't afford to ponder niceties. Right now he had to save Cherry.

"Don't worry." He whispered to her. "I'll save you." Aaron reassured. Sadly… He didn't know if he could save both of them. "Just keep your eyes closed.

Aaron oriented himself, to what he assumed was south west and began to move under the cover of trees and bushes towards the edge of the town slowly. Time to time a group of the men would come close and Aaron would sit in the shadows with his finger cocked on the trigger of his stolen rifle.

He was even more grateful that Cherry kept her eyes shut. They had lined up people in kneeling positions in front of their own houses and executed them. It was barbaric. There was no reason for this violence!

Aaron crept along, stepping over the body of a teen, and stepping into an alley. He held his breath as more men walked by. Aaron smelt cooking meat and the scent of burning wood. He gagged. That smell was the scent of cooking, human flesh. They were burning the town down. It would weed out survivors and get rid of the evidence.

What were they trying to do? Was this because of him? It couldn't be!

Already he could hear screams, that were brutally, cut off. Cherry flinched against him each time, Aaron's heart broke with each cry that faded away.

There was a single sound. This sound would mark the course of Aaron's life, and change the course of the world. This sound, was the sound of a silenced rifles bullet. It was a faint hiss in the air. Then there was a wet thwack. Cherry jerked in his arms with a startled gasp. Aaron his head and looked at her. Her hands gripped his shirt tightly and her body trembled.

"Aaron?" She whispered. "Aaron?"

He felt something hot soaking through his clothes. Aaron gripped her tightly and hugged her harder.

"Oh god no! Cherry! No!" He cried.

Her grip loosened and she slid from his grasp. Aaron gripped her and lowered her slowly to the ground. He held her arms in a white knuckle grip. His tears fell on her face. She looked at him and grasped his shirt with a weakening grip. Then… Quiet simply… She died.

Aaron buried his face in her shirt and cried out into her shirt. He screamed and screamed for what seemed a long time. He looked up, and closed her eyes, in the distance stood a lone figure with a still smoking rifle. The operative stood, speaking into his communications system.

Aaron stood before Cherry's body and dropped to a knee. His vision focused and his breathing slowed. The night seemed brighter and his target was seemed closer.

Before the man realized he was being targeted, Aaron had fired his rifle one single time. There was a faint hiss as the bullet cut through the air. The bullet flew true and entered through the mans goggle, passing through his eye, and passed through the back of his skull. A red mist bloomed behind him. He crumpled to the ground without a sound. Others appeared on the hilltop. Aaron was already on the move. His breathing seemed to slow. Only his heartbeat could be heard.

He closed the difference to the first three quickly, they had not expected him to spot them so quickly in the dark. Aaron leapt and landed on the chest of the man closest to him, peppering the man in the face, with bullets. He turned quickly and sprayed the others. Their movements seemed slower. It was easier for him to target their throats and faces. They fell like rag dolls to the ground. Aaron whirled at a sound behind him. He pulled the trigger but no rounds coughed forth.

Without hesitation Aaron dropped the rifle and rolled, pulling up, another stolen rifle. Rage coiled about his heart, anguish made his mind sharp. Most of all… His need to avenge Cherry drove him on. Amongst the drops of sweat that dripped down his face, were many, tears. The least he could do was drive them off, so they would not burn her body, like the others. Not Cherry! God no.

As he had rolled and grasped the rifle, one of the operatives, had dashed forwards and bashed his rifle against Aaron's forehead. Aaron rolled with it and shot the man in the groin. When he fell, Aaron rolled and slammed his rifle butt into the mans, throat again and again before the man had a chance to scream. There was no finesse in the way he killed this men. It was brutal, and it was real.

Before Aaron could scarcely move again, he felt the barrel, of a rifle pressed against his temple. Aaron had thought on taking his chances, to slap the gun away. These men would not hesitate to pull the trigger. Even then, they did not give him enough time to decide, whether he would risk his life.

There was a sharp stinging in his shoulder. Aaron looked and spied a dart protruding from his arms. Whatever the dart contained, quickly took, effect. His eyelids felt heavy and he could scarcely will his limbs to move. He could not fight the

hands that cuffed him and forced him to walk.

Aaron looked back at Cherry's body. His eyes widened. For a few seconds his chemically induced stupor lifted. He thrashed and twisted towards Cherry. The men would have none of it. They pulled Aaron to the ground and beat him into submission with the butts of their rifles.

As they beat Aaron he dared not close his eyes. He dared not cry out. Most of all, he dared not allow himself die

yet.

I deserve this… I deserve this…

He whispered to himself in his mind again and again. These words were his mantra. It was his fault that they all died. He was not strong enough. This beating he endured was insignificant compared to the pain and suffering he had caused. The pain in his heart dulled the pain inflicted.

When they realized he would no longer move, they lifted him again and pulled him onwards, into town. There a military caravan waited for him. They lifted him and shoved him roughly in the back. His handcuffs were magnetized behind his back, to the holding strip in the caravan. Aaron hung his head in silence. There was an eerie silence in the caravan as the operatives climbed in behind him. They did not speak to one another, nor did they take off their masks. None of them looked at him.

The caravans engine started and they begin to drive off. Aaron could barely lift his head. His vision swam. One of the men had his head down, as if praying. These men were praying? If Aaron had, had the energy he would have spat on the man. Right now he wished he could see their faces, so he could remember them. One day he would be able to come for them. Aaron could do little but seethe with rage. So seethe he did. Something changed in his heart. No longer was it so innocent. It was hateful and more feral. Cherry was gone. Along with her so was his old life. It was taken away by these men.

In the middle of Aaron's thoughts, one of the masked men lifted a pistol. The others turned and stared standing up.

"What are you doing Sam? Stand down!" One of them shouted. The pistol cracked. One man fell dead. The man called "Sam" turned to the other seven and shot them in the head, in quick succession. Blood flecked the sides of the caravans walls, painting it a harsh crimson. His gun clicked. He was out of bullets. Before the other three could lift their rifles or draw their pistols, the man snaked forwards. The caravan jerked to a stop, throwing the operatives backwards. The man stayed steady. He moved with a dancers grace. His feet barely touched the floor of the caravan. His motions seemed almost lethargic. He slammed the two closest together and tossed them through the back of the caravan like rag dolls. He turned to the final one and slammed a fist into the mans face one time. It must have been a powerful blow, for the man crumpled to the ground and shuddered in the throws of death. Blood pooled from his face. Aaron was too drugged to make much sense of what had just happened. He watched dumbly as Sam grasped the dead man by the arm and tossed him, easily from the back of the caravan.

Sam turned his head to the side and hopped from the back of the military vehicle. Aaron heard the sound of a muffled scream and a crack. There were more gunshots then silence. One of the operatives returned. Aaron did not know if the man that returned was Sam or not. They all looked the same with their masks.

The man pulled off his mask. He had blonde hair and a worn face. His brown eyes were that of a predator though.

"Hello there mine friend. I am your escort of the day. I am Rockeny Rominov. You may call me Mr. Rominov or Rockeny if it pleases you." The man said. Wasn't his name Sam? The man reached forwards and grasped Aaron by the wrist and pulled him from the caravan as if he were no more than a small dog. He stood Aaron up and looked him over. "No injuries? Hmm… That is all well." Rockeny sniffed him and frowned. "Your quite off right now I see." He muttered. "I suppose we can walk it off. My vehicle is not to many miles from this spot." The man said.

Aaron thought he was hallucinating. When he blinked the man looked different. As he blinked and rubbed his eyes, this "Sam" was indeed someone else entirely. The mans ears had tapered to points. His face had tightened and the stubble upon his chin had disappeared, eyes a golden brown. Even, his hair had changed to a chestnut brown color and hung past his shoulders.

The man named Rockeny did not pay any attention to Aaron. He grasped Aaron by the shirt and pulled him along. "Come along boy. Walk it off."

Aaron tried to shrug the man off but instead, was dragged till he could get his feet back under himself. They were heading into the surrounding woods.

"Who are you?" Aaron asked. The words came out slurred and tangled. Rockeny turned and looked over at Aaron.

"Alas, I have questions for you too my friend. Allow yourself to sober up before you ask me questions. I absolutely detest mumbling fools." Rockeny reprimanded. He turned back and drug Aaron along for awhile. After awhile Aaron could no

longer walk, so the man simply hefted him over one shoulder and continued walking along. "We thought you had died, my friend. It was a horrid time tracking you down after that "New Falls" disaster. We had assumed that everyone had died. Such a shame that was. I knew a few good individuals there. A big blow to the economy that was. The world is over populated anyways. It is good to have a bit of tragedy now and again." Rockeny murmured as he chattered on, idly. Aaron could do nothing but listen. He felt his disgust for this man rising. At this point he would have rather gone with the other group of men. This man was a monster.

"Shut your mouth." Aaron tried to say. Again it was a mumble. Rockeny silenced him.

"Please be quiet boy. You know less than you think you know. Even that is insignificant. But do not worry, my petty friend, we will supply answers to your questions." Rockeny said stoically. He checked a watch on his wrist. "We have time. I think we can rest awhile here. We have covered enough distance I suppose." The man dumped Aaron unceremoniously, on the ground. He seated himself on the ground and leaned himself against a tree and yawned. "I have not slept in nearly three days. We were alerted and I was sent to fetch you with all haste." Rockeny muttered. He closed his eyes.

Aaron tried to push himself up. Rockeny opened an eye and peered over at the man.

"You may try to leave. I don't think you'll make it very far. Besides. I'll only drag you back here, unconscious or awake." He said. Aaron did not doubt the man on his word. Having seen what this single man had done, Aaron did not question Rockeny's abilities.

They sat there in the dark forest lounging awhile. The effects of the drug did not seem to be wearing off anytime soon. He sat there in the dark and resigned himself to closing his eyes for awhile. If he had not been under the influence he would have not been able to sleep. Right now he only felt numb. Thankfully he did not dream as he normally did.

Aaron, opened his eyes groggily. The mysterious man stood with his back facing towards him. He was looking at something. That did not matter to Aaron. He moved his fingers slowly. The numbness had began to fade away. He still had no coordination. That was enough for him. He did not know how long it would take for this numbness to go away. His mind was beginning to sharpen again though.

He moved his hand along the ground and felt for a rock or a branch. Aaron's fingers curled around a thick branch. He was not sure if it was strong enough to knock the man out but he had to try. He had to get away. As he pulled it towards him slowly and pushed himself up to stand the man spoke.

"It would be in your best interest, not to do that." This froze Aaron in his tracks. The man had not seen him. Could he have heard him? Aaron had been very quiet.

The man back up and pushed a hand against Aaron's chest looking forwards. His head turned from side to side as he studied the forestry.

"What is it?" Aaron asked.

"Men… Three of them. Moving very quickly. They are moving too quickly for men. Something else." Rockeny muttered. His face did not betray emotion. Rockeny's person radiated an intense violence though. The shadows seemed to gather about them and the sounds of the forest died away slowly. It was as if the world was holding its breath.

There was an explosion that sent them both flying backwards. Aaron hit a tree. Rockeny rolled and broke into a dead run. The mans form flickered and disappeared in the distance. There were several large explosions that shook the ground. Aaron did not know were Rockeny had gone.

Aaron backed up against a group of trees, providing him at least some small cover from attacks, from behind. There was a scream and several more explosions. The sound of a tree falling could be heard here and there. There was silence for awhile. There was a snapping sound here and there about him. Aaron turned his head and dropped into a stance. He would have to run deeper into the forest if they had a gone. At the worst he would have to ambush them and incapacitate them. In his condition he would not make it far. The forest (to his knowledge) was small. There was little cover for him to get to.

A shape came into view. It was a man, but it was not Rockeny. The man walked forwards holding his other arm. Well, what was left of his left arm. It was missing at the end. Blood trickled slowly from it. The man stumbled forwards and grinned.

"I found you." The man muttered. He shook slightly. He had lost a lot of blood. The man straightened and raised his right arm. "I'll have to subdue you so I can call in the others to get you. I can't make it very far like this now can I?" The man said with a chuckle, gesturing to his arm. He was quiet mad it seemed.

He raised an arm and swept it outwards. Aaron felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Something in the back of his mind screamed, Move!, so move he did. He ducked down and dived to the side. The ground around him and the tree itself imploded and blew apart. Pieces of bark shot outwards and slapped Aaron, cutting him and partially blinding him with the showers of dirt.

The one armed man moved forwards and slammed a shoulder into Aaron's stomach. The blow was impossibly strong. It knocked him back a few feet. Aaron lay on the ground grasping his side, gasping. He was lucky the blow had not been higher. He was sure he would have had a broken rib.

Again the feeling screamed in his head. This time it screamed so loudly he had to grit his teeth. Aaron rolled to the side and curled into a ball.

The ground next to him exploded with such heat that the dirt around it fizzled, some of it, even turning some of it to glass. The man was upon him again. He kicked him in the stomach, using his foot, to toss Aaron in the air with an impossible force. When was tossed upwards, the man slammed an elbow, into his back and slammed him into the ground. Aaron tried pushing himself up. He gasped, trying to catch his breath. The man lifted him by his hair, with his single remaining arm, with little to no effort. Oddly the bleeding in the mans arm had stopped to less than a small trickle.

"So much trouble for one kid." He hissed. "I think I'll take your legs." Aaron twisted as the man said this and kicked him in the groin. The man crumpled to the ground and dropped Aaron. He pushed himself up and wobbled and, kicked the man in the head.

He fell over and threw up an arm. Aaron threw up his arms on instinct. An invisible force blasted out and knocked him back into the air. It tore most of the skin from his arms and rattled his entire body. He sat there shaking for a few moments. What had just happened? He rolled and coughed up a mouthful of blood. The man walked forwards and stood above him.

"This wouldn't have taken more than a minute, had "this"," He gestured to his left arm. "Not happened."

Aaron looked at the man. He was terrified. He didn't want to die. Not yet. Not like this!

He raised an arm as if to ward off the man. His biggest desire was to survive. He couldn't die yet! I need to live! He screamed in his mind.

The air before Aaron rippled. The mans eyes widened. A blast roared out and slammed into the man. The man was rocked on his heels. His clothes were ripped to shreds. He stood there shaking. "What the hell?" He said. The man spit of a gobbet of blood. "Screw Delonas! You die here!" He shouted. Before he could make a move his eyes widened, a hand protruding from his chest. The man fell forwards upon his face. Rockeny stood behind his body and leaned over, wiping his bloody, hand on the mans shirt.

Rockeny leaned over Aaron and looked the man over. He took out something that looked like a gun. He inserted a tube in it and thrust its tip into the mans neck. He depressed the trigger. The was a clicking sound. Blood flooded into the tube, and a sample of tissue from the mans neck was cut away. The sight sickened Aaron. Rockeny, pulled the tube from the gun and tucked it into his shirt, along with two others. There was not a scratch on the ominous man. It was a chilling sight. He had not even broken a sweat.

"I think now is as god as any time to begin moving on." Rockeny said. Aaron would have laughed if it were not for the lack of emotion in his voice. He was a most ironic individual. Aaron had not met anyone like Rockeny. Then again, Aaron had not been exposed to much of the world.

"How did you-" Rockeny cut him of with a wave of his hand as they began walking.

"All in good time boy." Rockeny murmured. They traveled for a while in silence. As they walked the effects of the drug, upon Aaron began to wear off little by little. If not for Norre's tutelage, Aaron would not have made it this far.

Norre… He hoped that Norre had survived. Aaron hoped that Norre could forgive for what happened to Cherry.

He felt his eyes burn with the beginnings of tears. He choked them back and continued walking. Right now… He had to concentrate. One foot in front of another. There were answers were this Rockeny Rominov was taking him.

Chapter 2: Viewing Humanity from a Monsters Perspective

They had walked a long time and finally come upon a road. Still they walked along awhile longer, away from the road. Rockeny had stripped himself of his excess gear. He rid himself of all the things that made him look conspicuous. He wore a tight black shirt and black cargo pants. The only thing odd about him were his ears and his perfect complexion. They reached a small town. The sun was just beginning to rise and the shops were just turning on their open signs. Rockeny led Aaron in town. He bade Aaron to stay put.

"Don't make me come after you." The man muttered as he walked inside a clothing boutique. He returned with a clean white button up shirt, shoes, and a pair of pants. Rockeny led him to a rest station and waited for him to change inside of the restroom.

As Aaron changed he looked at himself in the mirror. He had gained weight since he had last seen his own reflection. He was no longer the skeleton he once perceived himself as. Thin, almost invisible, scars covered his torso. The doctors had expressed surprise at how well he had healed.

The skin on his forearms had begun healing. New flesh shown under some of the scabs already. He shrugged and pulled on his new clothes. Aaron wet his hands and tried to fix his hair into some semblance of the word, "neat". He also washed most of the dirt and blood from his face. Luckily the cuts were small, and would heal very quickly.

Aaron turned away from the mirror and opened the door. Rockeny sat waiting outside. The man had bought himself a new outfit while Aaron was in the restroom. He was dressed in a finely tailored suit. The inside was colored crimson and the outside a velvet colored black. His hair rested in a ponytail. His attire only accented his paleness. Aaron had not realized how pale the man was in the darkness. His skin was nearly a cream white.

"It is about time. I would absolutely love a good cup of tea right now." He gave Aaron an appraising eye. "And you my boy could use a stiff cup of coffee."

"Shouldn't we be going were ever your taking me?" Aaron asked. Rockeny only waved him off again and turned, walking him down the street.

"As I said. All in good time." Rockeny turned his head to the side as he led them down a street. "Say, are you handicapped? You ask the same questions again and again." The man asked. Aaron was unsure if he was being sarcastic or if he was being honest. Rockeny's voice usually remained level and for the most part, unfeeling.

"No." Aaron answered simply. Rockeny shrugged his shoulders. He led them into a diner and seated them at a booth. A waitress walked over for their orders. Rockeny turned and eyed the woman and smiled.

"Good day mademoiselle." He said inclining his head to her. "My friend will have a cup of coffee. I would prefer a cup of tea if you please." Rockeny murmured. The woman seemed to hang onto his every word. She smiled and Rockeny returned one in kind. She seemed a bit flustered. She took out a pen and wrote on a sheet of paper and set it on the table for Rockeny. He looked at it and folded it.

"Call me?" She asked.

"That I shall-" He looked over at her nametag. "Susan." Aaron stared at Rockeny and tilted his head to the side as he flirted with the woman. Now that he looked harder the mans features were nearly perfect. They were more aquiline with gentle curves, and a prominent chin. His features seemed somehow… Ageless. He exuberated confidence and a predatory intelligence. It was a chilling, yet awesome sight to see.

Evidently this Susan did not notice these features about Rockeny. She left shortly to fetch their order. The man tucked the sheet of paper away into his jacket pocket.

"Who are you?" Aaron asked. Rockeny looked over at him as if just noticing him.

"Again with the questions boy?"

"My name is Aaron." Aaron retorted.

"Yes, yes. I know this Aaron. Do you have a last name?" Rockeny asked, leaning forward on his elbows. Aaron struggled to retain his composure. "That's right you don't. We know more about you than you know. Right now you are no more than an object of desire to us." Rockeny said. "That is putting it blatantly."

Aaron was even more confused by this.

"Who is this "Us"?" Aaron asked. "You keep saying that over and over again."

Rockeny smiled briefly. The gesture did not reach his eyes.

"Finally. You ask the right question." Rockeny said with a sigh. Their orders came. Rockeny took his cup of tea and sipped it, taking his time. Susan, waited on him, as if seeking approval. Rockeny nodded to her. "It is wonderful Susan. Thank you kindly mademoiselle." Rockeny said flashing another dazzling smile to her. She blushed and leaned forward whispering in his ear.

Rockeny chuckled. "Truly?" He asked in mock surprise. "It shall be done then." He said smiling again.

The waitress scurried off to her duties, looking over her shoulder, at Rockeny. He turned back to the impatient Aaron. "Relax. We have plenty of time. Drink your coffee my boy."

Aaron sipped it begrudgingly. It was bitter but it woke him up.

"Now will you tell me?" Aaron asked, tapping his fingers on the table. He was growing impatient with Rockeny very quickly.

"Yes. About that. Wait a tick." Rockeny murmured, touching a finger to his thin, pale lips. "What were we talking about?" Aaron nearly leapt over the table to throttle the man, regardless of his skills.

"Who you are."

"I am Rockeny Rominov you fool. How many times must I repeat myself?" The man muttered, sipping his tea. Aaron slammed a hand on the table.

"Who is "We"?" He nearly shouted. "You keep referring to "Us"!" Aaron had had many things happen at once. He wanted answers and he wanted them now.

"Well, "We" are known by many names. We are the "Illuminati"." Rockeny said. "Please don't cause I scene. I would hate to break your wrist." He reprimanded calmly. Aaron clenched his fists. The Illuminati were a myth! They died out a long time ago! Didn't they?

"Who are the Illuminati?" Aaron asked evenly.

"We are no one but we are omnipresent." Rockeny answered. This frustrated Aaron yet again. This was not answer yet is was classified as one. The man was speaking in riddles.

"That's not what I asked Rockeny. I asked who the Illuminati were!" Aaron said louder. Rockeny closed his eyes and sipped his tea, sighing into the glass.

"I already answered your question. If it is a different question then what are you asking?"

"You know what I am asking Rockeny." Aaron said through gritted teeth.

"Oh you mean, what is the essence of the Illuminati and what are purposes are?" Rockeny asked. Aaron closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He took several in fact. Never before had he been so irked by a man.

"Yes Rockeny. That is what I am asking."

"Why did you not say it then?" He said, asking another question. Aaron drank a mouthful of the coffee to still his outburst.

"Your not going to tell me are you?" Aaron asked.

"No."

"Why?"

"All in good time my boy. All in good time…" Rockeny muttered over his tea. He set it down and stood. "Well shall we go to my vehicle?" He took out a wallet and dropped a generous tip on the table top.

"Whatever." Aaron muttered. He followed Rockeny out the door, even more, confused than before. What in the world was going on?

---

They walked down several blocks from that diner. They rounded a corner and came to a storage depot. It was a large building more, akin to a garage. There was only one entrance. Rockeny walked through the check in station and scanned his wrist W.P.U.S. on its scanner. There was a low vibration. The ceiling opened up and a large crate was dropped down slowly. Rockeny walked forwards and placed his palm on a scanner, on the front, of the crate. The front of it slid open, revealing a black sports car. Rockeny strode in, sliding his fingers along its hood.

"A 2075 vintage." He murmured. "One of the last gasoline powered cars. Smooth and sleek." Rockeny smiled and opened its door. He seated himself inside and thumbed the ignition. It roared to life, the roar died to a low purr. Aaron could appreciate such a mechanical beauty. On the other hand it must have been insanely expensive. As it was gasoline was a rare commodity in this age.

Rockeny pulled out from the storage crate. The passenger door swung upwards.

"In." Rockeny simply said. Aaron nodded and climbed in. He was greeted with warmed seats that adjusted themselves to his shape. There was no ignition in the car, simply a steering wheel, a gear shift, and a computer screen. The air conditioning adjusted itself to keep the car at a set temperature.

They pulled out of the garage slowly and sped off once they hit the street. Aaron could scarcely feel the acceleration in the car. It moved smoothly along the road, weaving in and out, of traffic.

"Why not drive into town and pick me up?" Aaron asked in disgust, once his sense of wonderment wore off.

"And damage this work of art?" Rockeny snorted as if Aaron were a fool. This was most likely not far from what the man thought of him. "Not likely." Before Aaron could give a proper retort, Rockeny continued. "It is called "discretion" Aaron. We could not simply go there and pluck you from the town. What happened was inevitable."

It shocked Aaron how easily he could say such words. He simply stared at Rockeny. "I have done my line of work for a long, long time my boy. Anyone who came into contact with you would have died regardless of the outcome." Rockeny said in a softer tone. There was a hint of emotion in his voice. It was gone in an instant.

"Why? Why me?" Aaron asked in despair. He held his head in his hands.

"Because. You are unique Aaron."

"What do you mean?"

"That I cannot answer Aaron. You must get your answers from Dedrick Crawford." Rockeny answered. "Have patience. All in good time."

"Damn you and your stupid wise man logic! Why didn't you stop them from killing all those people! I've seen what you could do!" Aaron shouted.

The car jerked in traffic and swerved to the side. It stopped on the side of the highway. Rockeny turned and looked at Aaron with his piercing eyes. Looking into those eyes, Aaron felt himself drawn in. There was an old sadness there. It was almost ancient.

"Yes Aaron… Damn me. Alas, I cannot be every were at once. Even I cannot save them all. That is why we hope that you can solve this "problem" that has arisen. I had to wait to locate you before I could fine you. Trust me. Each man paid in full, for his crimes. There was nothing I could have done. You would have died." Rockeny said softly. "Damn me. I should be damned. I have done many terrible things and let a great many of good people come to harm." His expression hardened. "But damning me will not get you anything. Damning me will not solve any problems. Damning me will not answer your questions. Most of all, damning me will not bring back the ones that you love." Rockeny turned his head away. The passenger door swung open, bidden, by Rockeny's touch to the computer console. "I will give you a single chance to go your own way. You may wander and try to find answers in your own fashion. I assure you Aaron, I am not your enemy. If you wish to leave then leave."

Aaron spat outside and stood to climb out of the car.

"Aaron? One more thing." Rockeny said.

"What is it?" Aaron asked in irritation.

"That pain in your heart, that pain that just wont go away…" Rockeny murmured. This caused Aaron to turn and look at the man. His eyes widened in shock. "I know. Trust me in this. I know. You don't know. But we do. At least come far enough to know, why you cannot sleep at night." Rockeny asked. For once he was sincere. He was not being snide, nor was he insulting Aaron.

Aaron looked out, away from the car, and then back to Rockeny. Unconsciously a hand came up and touched his chest. His pain… This ache in his soul. It pulsed as if to remind him of its presence. It pulsed feverently. Aaron nodded wordlessly and slid back into the car.

---

Johan Sven sat at his desk, typing up reports, for each of the men that had died in the field. He had to fabricate elaborate lies for their deaths. It was troublesome work. Someone had to do it. He had known a few of the men personally. Damn them. They were good men. A few of them even had families and children that would never see them again. He looked up towards the ceiling and rubbed his temples. On top of that, the town of Twin Rivers had been erased, all except for its location on the maps. A clean up team was there right now, burning the remainder of the town and moving bodies to assure its anonymity. It had to look like a massive accident gone wrong. Maybe he would pin it on a few radicals that they were currently searching for. Yes he would do that.

Even so the fact that someone had interfered and killed that many trained men, chilled him. All this trouble for one man? God help him…

There was a knock at his door.

"Come in." He called, without looking up from his work. A man in a suit walked inside. He inclined his head to Johan.

"Mr. Sven." The man murmured. Johan felt a crawling sensation on his skin. This was not a scheduled visit or an employee of his.

"Who are you?" Johan asked. His hand was already reaching under his desk to grasp the butt of his pistol. The desk was made thin in the front, so any unwanted, and unwary visitors would be on the receiving end. At the worst, the sound of the loud gunshot in the building would send someone running. Alarms would go off. The director of the W.S.A. had to be paranoid.

"A messenger." The man simply said. He looked down at the front of Johan's desk. "I did not come to kill you yet." The man murmured. He stood and looked at the security camera in the corner of the directors office. "Besides. All the bugs and cameras in this part of the building, have been properly taken care of."

Johan felt cold sweat trickling down his back. Who the hell were these people? They had hacked into the strongest computer system in the world without being tracked or setting off any alarms! This alone was enough to set Johan on edge. The man seated himself on the edge of the directors desk. "Mr. Sven, how old are you?"

"One hundred and fourteen."

"Wow! People live longer and longer each year. Technology really is something! Do you have heart problems in your family Mr. Sven?" The man asked. He leaned forwards and peered into Johan's eyes. The eyes seemed to be nearly all knowing. They peered into Johan, making him feel naked. He trembled before this man.

"No. Not particularly." The director answered back. He tried his best to keep his voice level.

"Ever done any drugs? Be honest now." The man asked.

"No."

"Of course! How else would you get to a position like this. You would have to have a completely clean record!" The man chuckled sarcastically. He was toying with Johan. "Have you always worked for the W.S.A. Mr. Sven?"

Mr. Sven nodded.

"You also worked as a field agent and served in our third world war correct?" Again the director nodded. Was this man going to talk him to death? "That must have been very stressful. When was that war?"

"It must have been very tough on you to see so many people die." The man said mockingly. The old man gritted his teeth and slammed a fist on the table.

"What the hell do you want!" He was getting to frustrated to be scared.

"Careful Mr. Sven. You could have a heart attack with all that stress!" The man said sarcastically. He leaned over and placed a hand on Mr. Sven's chest, pushing him down into his chair.

When the man touched Mr. Sven something happened. His chest began to hurt. He clutched his chest and leaned forwards. Tears welled in his eyes. He tried to call out to activate his computer, to try to call someone to help him. Johan slid from his desk, clutching his chest.

The man sat there watching him with a curiosity, akin to a scientist, watching a vivisected animal.

"My! Mr. Sven it seems you are having a heart attack!" The man exclaimed in mock surprise. He stood and bowed to the dying director. "Compliments of Mr. Delonas of course." With this, the man left Johan Sven to die on the floor of his office. Of course the cameras would show Johan typing and writing reports. The old man would fall back in his seat and clutch his chest and fall the ground, and die.

---

Kyle Delonas watched the director die from the comfort of his desk. His computers projection showed the man writhe on the ground for a few more moments. Kyle watched for awhile after, looking at the mans still form. What a waste. He personally edited the video feed and placed it back on in the W.S.A.'s security systems. It would verify that the director had simply died of a heart attack.

There still a small percentile that he could find or even better, capture his troublesome "friend". He did a few calculations in his head.

A few security guards would be fired and never work in a government job for the rest of their lives. It was all to sad. The director was a good asset. He was simply convenient though. This would not slow Kyle down in any fashion though. Still. The fact that irked him slightly was that fact, that "someone", or something had interfered with his plans. Aaron had escaped. The man was still alive. He was a small problem. It was the nature of the world to allow small problems to grow into something larger. He would fix this. He pulled out his W.P.U.S. and dialed a few numbers. He tossed the phone uplink onto his desk, when done.

Kyle sat there and shut off his computer with a wave to its screen. It was all so troublesome.

---

They drove for a long while, well after sunset before they stopped in a large city. Rockeny stopped at a small hotel and parked the car in its lot. He walked to the front with Aaron.

"One room please." Rockeny requested. He scanned his W.P.U.S.. The man looked at the screen and smiled broadly. This was in stark contrast to the frown he had worn earlier.

"Would you like a suite?" The man asked in a cultured voice.

"No thank you. One room shall suffice." Rockeny answered.

"Do you have any belongings you require taken to your room Mr. Rominov?" The man asked.

"No. Just the pass cards please?"

"Right." The man flustered, passing a gold to Rockeny. He smiled and they made their way to their rooms. Aaron rolled over what had happened in his head.

"What just happened?" Aaron asked quizzically.

"The Illuminati are very generous in their payments." Rockeny said with a slight chuckle. "They assure the comfort of their operatives." He led them to their room. Rockeny slid the card into the doors handle and pushed it open. It was a nice room, with a large bed. There was a fridge stocked with drinks and condiments. A TV sat in front of the bed, with a remote, and a ordering menu.

"Feel free to help yourself." Rockeny said turned to leave.

"Were are you going?" Aaron asked.

"A date. Why?"

"What makes you think I won't leave?" Aaron asked. Rockeny dug into his pocket and pulled out another bracelet identical to his own.

"Put that on please." He asked. Aaron took it and put it on.

"That is a modified W.P.U.S.. It will let me know were you are. You can contact me by touching it and bringing up the help menu." Rockeny said touching it. "I bid you adieu. Don't try to leave. I'll only break your legs and drag you back here. Don't take it off either or the same will happen." The man muttered. He shut the door behind him and left Aaron to himself.

Aaron seated himself on the bed and sighed. He sat there a few moments and thought to himself. Staying awake that long and going through what he had, had drained him. He held his head in his hands and cried bitter tears for awhile. Cherry. He had failed her. He had failed all of them. How could he have been so weak? He wondered to himself. He would have to get stronger. This he promised himself. Maybe he would be as clever and strong as Rockeny. Maybe not as ominous though. But the man had the ability to choose his life. Aaron badly desired this one right.

When he finished thinking on what had happened, he dug through the fridge and ate a sandwich and drank a bottle of water. They tasted like ash in his mouth. He had needed to eat though.

There was nothing on TV that interested him, nor, was there anything interesting in the room to occupy his time. He lay on his bed and drifted to a troubled slumber. His dreams were fraught with nightmares and phantoms from a past he did not know. Most of all Cherry haunted his dreams. He reached out to grasp her in his arms. To protect her. To save her. Each time though he would wake up, with his eyes wide. She was gone.

Even so, he could not help but still see her wide eyes staring up at him, imploring him to save her.

---

Rockeny sat up and moved to the edge of the bed. Susan slept pleasantly, next to him. He looked back at her and pulled the sheets over her. His W.P.U.S.'s systems told him that Aaron had not moved. Hopefully he would catch some sleep. Truth be told. Rockeny had stayed and listened awhile. He pitied this boy. So much pain in such short of a life.

Rockeny turned and looked back over at the waitress he had met earlier that day. She was a nice female. He contemplated killing her. It would be a nice break.

He stood and pulled on his clothes. No. He wasn't in the mood to kill again yet. He left and sat in his car for awhile. Rockeny reached down into his glove compartment and pulled out one of the vials of blood and tissue he had taken from the three men in the forest. He stared its contents before he placed it away. Susan still lay in her house sleeping...It would be a quick deed…

No.

He reminded himself again.

Rockeny switched on his car and pulled away from her house and drove away, back to Aaron. Rockeny honestly did not ever wish to see the woman again. Then again, he felt the same way about many of the people he met.

---

Aaron sat up, once the sunrise had begun to creep through the curtains. Rockeny rested in a chair, in the corner of the room. His head rested upon his hands. Rockeny's eyes rested upon Aaron. The man must have returned overnight. It was oddly awkward and terrifying at the same time to see Rockeny sitting there.

For him to have snuck in during the night and, watched Aaron so patiently. But nevertheless, why was he staring at Aaron in that fashion? It was that predatory gleam again. His expression was that of a cat studying a caught mouse.

"How was your date with the waitress?" Aaron asked. This silence bothered him. Rockeny's eyes were unnerving.

"It was acceptable." The man murmured standing. "Get up. We have more distance to cover." Rockeny turned and opened the door, waiting for Aaron.

He pulled on his shoes and socks, following Rockeny downstairs to his car.

"Will you tell me who you really are now?" Aaron asked as they walked to his car.

"No." Rockeny answered back in a toneless voice. "I would prefer not speaking unless needed, on the way to our destination, if at all possible."

It was difficult for Aaron not to lose his cool. Rockeny had no regard for peoples feelings and had even less regard for common courtesy!

"Fine then." Aaron murmured. He was normally very stoic and quiet anyways. This man, Rockeny, was simply a great source of curiosity for Aaron.

He conceded to Rockeny's request and rode in silence for the rest of the drive. Rockeny turned on a bit of classical music to mask the silence, after a while. The only times they spoke, were when Rockeny offered Aaron something to drink or eat.

It was around midday when Rockeny pulled down the street. There were many cars in front of him, moving slowly. It seemed that there was a car accident ahead. Aaron sat up and looked out the window. Firemen worked on the wreckage while, the law enforcement directed traffic.

Rockeny drove them forwards slowly. Aaron looked out the window at the wreckage. Next to the two cars were to sheet covered bodies. A hand peeked out of one. Aaron's eyes locked on the sight. His vision wavered and he felt bile rising in the back of his throat.

A little girl looked underneath the sheets. She had long black hair and wore a white nightgown. The little girl was no older than Aaron. Her skin was pale as milk. She looked up and dropped the sheet, back atop the body. What was she doing there? Her amber eyes met Aaron's. He felt as if he were falling.

It was her. That same little girl. His hair stood on end.

"Stop the car!" Aaron cried, banging on the window. Rockeny looked over at him with a single raised eyebrow. He slowed to a stop.

"What is it?" Rockeny asked. Before he received an answer, Aaron had jerked open the door, and begun running towards the bodies. The little girl turned around and walked off before he could reach her. In fact it was hard to believe she was there in the first place. She was nowhere to be seen.

"You! Get back to your vehicle!" An officer shouted. The man walked towards Aaron, a hand resting on his firearm. Aaron looked down at the hand, next to his feet. Again his hair stood on end. He shook the feeling of déjà vu and turned away. As he walked back towards Rockeny's car, the officer looked at Aaron oddly. He moved his arm in a way, that drew Aaron's attention. The officer drew his gun. Before it left its holster, Rockeny was there. Impossibly he simply, was there. He seemed to flow around the man.

Rockeny grasped the mans wrist and twisted, snapping it. He pulled the gun from the mans hand and tossed the man down.

"It is a trap!" Rockeny hissed. Already the other firemen and officers drew pistols a few had rifles. Rockeny turned and shoved Aaron down. He snarled and grasped the man at his feet, by the shirt. As they opened fire, Rockeny charged forward, using the fallen mans body as a shield. The man cried out the first few times before succumbing to death. Aaron sat up and rolled to the side, behind the wreckage.

He watched Rockeny whirl with the mans body, tossing him into a group of men, before he opened fire on them. It was a horrifying thing to see, how efficient Rockeny was at what he did. The men fell back in surprise. They had not been expecting a head on attack. He dropped the pistol once it was empty and rolled away from them, leaping like a gymnast. The cars, waiting to get through, rammed through or their drivers abandoned their vehicles and ran off. This was just as good for Rockeny. He ran for cover. Aaron did the same. He hid behind a car, his heart pounding in his chest.

Aaron looked over and ducked back, bullets slammed into the front of the car, he hid behind. There were several gunshots in front. No doubt Rockeny was causing a majority of the ruckus. This gave Aaron a certain measure of comfort. But how long could Rockeny hold out?

There was a deafening explosion. Something or someone hit the side of a car and bounced off of its side. It was Rockeny! He pushed himself up and patted out the flames on his arm and shoulder.

"What are you going to just sit there or do something?" Rockeny snarled. Aaron's sat there in disbelief. There was a man sized dent were Rockeny had hit the car. You did not hit, something that hard and simply shake it off! Aaron peeked from around the back of the car. Rockeny wiped the soot from his face and looked at his jacket, cursing. He caught Aaron's eye and snorted. "Weakling." Rockeny tensed his legs and leapt. He leapt impossibly and landed on the hood of a car and hopped to another. The man dropped down to the ground and darted forwards, faster than Aaron could track him with his eyes. The men could not track him with their bullets. Either that or they were hitting him, and the bullets did not faze him. Either choice was highly improbable.

What could he do to help Rockeny? The man seemed to have things handled. Then again, Aaron had to take that back. There was one man remaining. That man hefted a car with both arms and hurled it at Rockeny, undoubtedly crushing him. How could a single man lift a car and toss it in such a way? Aaron shook and backed away, staying low. What could he do? There was a massive crash, the car that covered Rockeny was hurled and flew towards the man. Rockeny stood there, his clothes shredded about him, steaming.

The man twisted and punched the car out of the air before it could hit him. Who the hell were these men?! Before Rockeny could make a move, the man swept out an arm. A blast rocked outwards and slammed into everything before him. It shoved cars to the side and sent Rockeny tumbling backwards. The man darted forwards and leapt upon Rockeny. Aaron could feel the force from Rockeny's assailants, blows reverberating through the ground.

Aaron ducked back behind a car breathing hard. He had to do something, but he couldn't just run up and fight that man head on! He was so powerful it was terrifying. Aaron sat there and closed his eyes, breathing hard. He didn't want to do. He was afraid to die!

I don't want to die like this!

His mind cried. It became painfully evident that before now, to his knowledge, he had never been in such a serious situation. Then he remembered what he had come along with Rockeny for. To avenge Cherry. Her name brought forth bitterness, along with the bitterness it brought forth determination. His determination overrode his fear.

Not more than thirty paces ahead of him was a pistol. Aaron could only hope it was loaded. He made his mad dash for the gun and swept it up in his hand.

Aaron turned and pulled the trigger as he moved forwards. The pistol threw off his aim, it was shaky, not like that fateful night. He could not help notice this fact. Even so a few bullets flew true. One of them slammed into the mans shoulder, spinning him around. He cried out and dropped down, throwing out an arm. Aaron felt something hit him in the chest. He hit the ground, flying backwards. He pushed himself up clutching his chest.

This was all the time that Rockeny needed. Rockeny leapt to his feet and grasped the man by the back of the neck and simply squeezed his hand. There was a muffled pop. The mans body jerked in Rockeny's grip and went limp. He tossed down the mans body and dusted himself off.

"Would have been nicer of you to help sooner." Rockeny muttered, shoving past Aaron. "Fool."

Aaron stared at Rockeny. There did not seem to be a scratch on the man. The only injured things, were his pride and clothing. "Either way I had the situation handled. I'll need new clothes too." He muttered.

Rockeny walked back down the street to his car. Thankfully it was unhurt. The man expressed more emotion in the fact, that his car was unharmed, than Aaron safety. He climbed in. "Come along. The sooner we move the better, boy." Right now people wanted him and Rockeny dead. The number one thing Norre had taught him and his books had spoke of was to, "Keep on the move." or die. He was not ready to die yet, nor could he get over his shame of being such a coward.

Aaron stared at Rockeny as he thought to himself. Who was this man really? He had just been crushed by a car, seemingly.

"Staring is rude." Rockeny said, looking over at Aaron, as he maneuvered through the mass of cars and wreckage. They pulled off the side of the road before driving back on. "We may need to find a new vehicle soon. I have little doubts in my mind that this car has been flagged. It will be a shame to part with it."

He touched the dashboard affectionately. The man appreciated machines more than he did people. Aaron could see why. Machines did not make stupid mistakes as Aaron had.

"I'm sorry." Aaron murmured.

"For what?" Rockeny asked, feigning ignorance. Evidently he was trying to ignore Aaron.

"For the trouble." Aaron answered.

"Good. Mayhap you may think before acting? But alas, they were looking for you." Rockeny confessed. "You may have ended up dead, had you not gotten out from the car. They would have shot you through the window."

Again. Aaron felt that chill down his spine. What Rockeny said was true.

"Who are you?"

"All in good time." Rockeny answered back.

"Why won't you tell me?" Aaron asked. Rockeny ignored him and put on classical music.

They drove well into the night. Aaron fell asleep and awoke to another sunrise. He was not sure if they had stopped to refuel or not. Not that it mattered. They were still alive and on the road. Safe for now. Rockeny did not look tired in the slightest. They did not stop, except to run into a rest station to use the restroom or buy food for the road. The only talking they did besides this was when Rockeny asked him pertly, to throw his trash out the window, or not to get crumbs in his car. That next day turned into another. Aaron finally commented.

"What happened to getting another car?"

"You will not like my answer boy." Rockeny commented.

"I'm still curious." In truth, Aaron was bored. Rockeny would not let him use the onboard computer systems, nor would he allow him to listen to a different radio channel.

"Fine then. I did not wish to lose my car."

"Even at the risk of being caught?" Aaron asked. This was stupid!

"Even at the risk of being caught. I'd rather kill another hundred men than part with this work of art." Rockeny said as if Aaron were a fool. "It is precious to me."

Aaron did not comment back. He only shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest. The man truly was vain.

"We are here." Rockeny said with a great sigh if satisfaction. "My car is in one piece and you are not dead."

They pulled down a street filled with lavish manors and large houses. Rockeny pulled up to a pair of wrought iron gates, covered in ivy. There was a scanning box there. He reached out his window and placed a hand on it. Upon reading his DNA signature, the gates swung open silently.

The mansion itself was also covered in ivy. Fountains spewed water in front of it, and large fruit trees grew in its lawn. A massive weeping willow drooped over a small lake. Small fish came to the surface and kissed its surface, eating small tidbits that fell on its surface. Rose bushes and shrubs grew all over the vast property. Oddly there was not a person to be seen outside, or a A.I.S. machine tending the plants and lawn. It was distinctly silent. Aaron was entranced by the beauty of the place, more so though, the foreboding mansion unnerved him.

Rockeny parked them before the mansion and climbed out. He motion for Aaron to follow. They climbed up the stone steps past the looming gargoyles and stopped before the door. Rockeny gasped Aaron's shoulders and looked him over. He adjusted Aaron's hair and dusted his clothing.

"They truly detest unkempt visitors. Just remember. Do not take any offers and do not disrespect any of the occupants. If you do… Most likely they will kill you." Rockeny commented. "Aside from that. Make yourself at home in the lounge room."

Aaron nodded in confirmation. He was more than a bit nervous.

Rockeny grasped the handles to mansions double doors and pushed them open. Aaron was hit by the strong scent of coconuts, lavender, and cinnamon all mingled together. It was hypnotic and relaxing. Rockeny pushed him forwards gently and directed him to the lounge room. The room was lit with lamps, covered in see through scarves. The windows blinds were drawn shut to keep the light from pouring in. It added to the mood of the room. The man seemed to walk taller and with more a strut. Inside the lounge room were two groups of people. Men and women dressed in lavish attire, bedecked in fine clothes, bearing expensive rings and exotic hairstyles.

On the other side of the room were more casually dressed men and women. They were dressed in blue jeans and shirts, some wore suit jackets. Many of them had piercings. They all looked rugged. The one thing they had in common though, was an air of dignity and poise. They all looked at Aaron and narrowed their eyes. As Rockeny walked in with a hand on Aaron's shoulder, they were quick to look away. Evidently, Rockeny had influence here.

A woman stood and walked towards them. She wore a crimson dress, that clung to her figure. Her skin was fair and pale, without blemish. She was a sight to behold. Exotic but tasteful. Even more so looking into her eyes, was entrancing.

"Especially watch out for this one." Rockeny murmured into Aaron's ear, as the woman sauntered forward. She seemed to glide over the ground. She extended a hand towards Aaron. Aaron took it and shook it, not really, knowing what he should do. He could feel his mouth going dry.

"Delilah. Delilah Ruskovich. My, my. What have you brought to us Rockeny? Were are your manners? Will you not introduce us?" The woman asked, placing a hand on her chest. She eyed Rockeny's current state of dress with distaste.

"An acquaintance." Rockeny answered. He stepped forward, breaking the woman's eye contact with Aaron. "You would do well to know your place mademoiselle Ruskovich." Rockeny murmured loud enough for only her to hear. The quiet room, grew still. Again eye contact returned to Rockeny and Aaron.

The woman did not quail before Rockeny's polite warning. She merely stepped forwards and trailed a fingernail along his jaw line.

"After all we have been through? You still wish to put me at a distance Rockeny?" She shook her head and turned away. Delilah looked over her shoulder at Aaron, flashing him a dazzling smile. "Then you won't mind if I make friends with your "acquaintance" do you?" She asked.

Rockeny sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"I have no time for your petty word games woman. I need a change of clothes and a bath." He looked over at Aaron. "Remember. I shan't be gone long. You will wait here and stay out of trouble. Dedrick Crawford would have words with you soon Aaron." With this being said, he turned and left, down the hall.

Delilah placed a hand on Aaron's arm. "Come sit with me, so we may exchange words awhile Aaron?" She asked. Aaron nodded and let himself be seated. She seated herself across from him, lounging in the chair.

"Were do you hail from Aaron?" She asked.

"Excuse me?" Aaron asked. He didn't understand her mode of speech. It was as if she were from another era.

"Were do you come from Aaron?" She asked in a different way. If she was annoyed she did not express it. She only looked at Aaron as Rockeny did at times. Like a piece of meat.

"A small town called Twin Rivers." Aaron murmured.

"What territory is this?" She asked.

"The northern territories." Aaron did not allude to anything else.

"You must have some splendid stories to tell! All who travel with Rockeny have some story to tell of their exploits." She said chuckling softly.

"No. No stories." Aaron murmured softly.

"Ah… I see." She said tactfully. She did not try to push the matter. Instead she probed a different area. "Do you know why Dedrick Crawford wishes to speak with you?" She asked.

"No. I was hoping you would know." Aaron responded. The woman showed no sign of irritation.

"Well, Dedrick Crawford is the most established of us. He is the head society member." She answered.

"What is this society?"

"Why the Illuminati of course. I assume that Rockeny has already told you as much." She said, chuckling again.

"What is the Illuminati? Were they not a group of Satanists and Humanists?" This elicited a chuckle from the lady.

"If Rockeny has not told you so then I shan't not. That is for Dedrick Crawford to divulge to you. Not a single member may tell you on their own vocation." She confessed. "It is the workings of our society. Only the privileged may know and only those who must know for our benefit may know, though, we do, do business extensively." Her answer did not help Aaron at all. It only irritated him. This woman acted almost identical to Rockeny, in terms of speaking riddles.

"Well I suppose there is nothing more for me to say." Aaron muttered. The woman leaned forward seductively.

"But "we" are very interested in you my friend. You are a fascinating person. Who are you?" She asked.

"I am me." Aaron answered. The situation was vastly growing into something else. All eyes were centered on him. He did not understand why.

"Yes, yes, we know this. But why would Dedrick Crawford send Rockeny for you? Of all people he chose to send Rockeny to fetch you. Something amiss must be at hand." She moved closer, laying a hand on his knee. Aaron felt a warm sensation travel through his body. "You must know…"

"Delilah." Rockeny said. He stood in the doorway, he wore a new suit, and his hair was pulled back in a ponytail. He seemed to grow larger and taller. The shadows pulsed about him almost. The woman moved away from Aaron. The others moved away from Rockeny.

Aaron could have sworn as she moved away, that, her eyes flashed violet. The warm feeling also disappeared. Who was she?

Rockeny grasped Aaron by the arm and pulled him up.

"It is time for you to meet Dedrick." He murmured. Rockeny looked over at Delilah without any expression upon his face. The woman backed away, behind a chair, placing her hand upon it. She smiled coyly at him.

"Women." Rockeny spat. As he led Aaron out of the lounge room. "I trust things went well?" He asked.

"Not really. I didn't get any answers." Aaron muttered.

"Now is the time that you will receive them." Rockeny answered back. He led them down the hall to a large circular room. Along the walls were doors. In the middle of the room, a massive ebony stair case rose up to the second floor. Rockeny led them up the stairs and down another hall. He stopped them before a door. Before he could knock a voice from within spoke,

"Come in."

Rockeny entered and motion for Aaron to come inside. They stood in a large study. Bookshelves lined the walls, filled with books of all sorts. In the middle of the room, was a lounge chair, and a small table next to it. Away from it, lit by lamps was a large oak desk covered in papers and documents. A man stood before a crackling fireplace. He wore a finely tailored suit, and similar décor as Rockeny.

"Welcome Aaron." He said. Aaron looked to Rockeny. He motion for Aaron to go forwards.

"You know me?" Aaron asked.

"Watch you mouth. Speak with a little more respect boy." Rockeny snapped.

"Be at ease Rockeny. He is a friend here." The man said turning around. The man was no older than Aaron himself. His skin was pale and his face was nearly flawless, much like the others in the lounge room. Oddly he seemed regal, nearly ancient in his demeanor.

"I am Dedrick Crawford. Yes… I do know you. Well we do." He said with a smile.

Dedrick extended a well manicured hand. Aaron shook it. It was chill to the touch. This was not a comforting thing. Aaron knew he should not worry about how warm a persons hand was when he touched it, but at that moment, his sense were on edge. He did not know what to think.

"What do you mean? I have been asking for answers but I have not got any." Aaron said. Finally he met this man. He had better get some answers!

"We are the Illuminati. We are merely a contingent of different people with much the same ideals." Dedrick answered. "I am the head of the Illuminati at the moment. We have been around for over two thousand years now. We work with the governments economy and study many different things. It all depends on what "tastes" the majority has." He continued.

"I don't understand. Why am I here? If you know me then why did so many people have to die?" Aaron asked. His fist clenched.

"You are here, because we have, a great many favors to ask of you. Those people died because it was their time. A man named Kyle Delonas killed them to get to you. Luckily we were there in time." Dedrick said sadly. "Our hearts grieve for their untimely deaths. It was all for a good cause though." He placed a hand on Aaron's shoulder. "With a little luck we can make sure that their deaths are for a good cause." Aaron pushed his arm away.

"That's not good enough! I need to know why! Why is this happening to me? Why do I have these insane dreams?" Aaron asked. Dedrick paused and looked over at Rockeny. They exchanged a glance for a brief second.

"You don't remember Aaron?"

"Don't remember what?" Aaron asked.

"Well, after all… It was you that contacted us."

Aaron's world shook around him. The room seemed to spin. His legs quivered, and he had to back up towards a bookshelf, to find a handhold. Again that sickening déjà vu feeling, crawled down his spine like a cold sweat.

"Wait. What?" Aaron asked dumbly. Dedrick stepped forwards slowly, towards Aaron. He did not bear the face of humor, he looked sad.

"You came and found us Aaron. Out of the woodworks, you appeared at our doorstep with documents and paperwork. To be honest we were tempted to kill you then and there. Sadly, your facts and documents were ironclad. In truth, me and you came to be friends. We spoke often and shared many thoughts. We came to a conclusion…" Dedrick said softly.

"What conclusion?" Aaron asked shakily.

"Unity. Peace, if only temporary. We could at least re-assert it or maybe at the most, make the world a better place. It was a stupid dream. Nearly every Politian, dreams of these two things." He stood before Aaron and once again placed his hands on the mans shoulders. "For the first time in all my time, you had brought the way. Not only this, you had a massive will to save us all. Now I fear this may be lost." Dedrick whispered the last part and let his hands fall away. The man folded his arms about himself and moved towards the fireplace.

Aaron looked over towards Rockeny. The man moved towards Dedrick and placed a hand on his shoulder. Dedrick's shoulders sagged slightly. Dedrick nodded to Rockeny and turned towards Aaron again. This time there was a glimmer of intuition.

"There was a plan you set aside though, for a situation like this." Dedrick mused. "By god you were a damn genius. I apologize. My emotions interfered with my thoughts. I remember vividly. I even still have the paperwork and documentation!" Dedrick exclaimed. He turned and strode towards his desk and dug through the many drawers. Dedrick pulled a large portfolio and set it on his desk. "Come over here Aaron." He said in a slightly excited voice. This was a good sign, Aaron assumed. The people that Rockeny associated with were slow to show any form of emotion.

Dedrick passed Aaron the portfolio of papers. Aaron opened it. Inside there was a birth certificate for an Aaron Elman. There was an ID with his picture on it, with the same last name. Among them was a social security card and several other papers. Many of them were verification of attendance to several schools.

"What is this?" Aaron asked, placing a hand to his forehead. This was all too much.

"Before you went off and, "Died" supposedly. We had fabricated a persona for you. You are Aaron Elman." Dedrick said with a pearly white smile. "You are already set up and registered in the United World Territories(UWT) database." Dedrick added.

"I did this?" Aaron asked slowly, as he flipped through the paperwork.

"Yes you did. Well, you can't have all the credit." He muttered chuckling. "You are soon to become a candidate for a spot on the senate for the Eastern Territories." Dedrick commented.

"Senate?"

Dedrick sighed and shook his head.

"You really must have bumped your head hard. We will fix this too." He assured. "There is a governor for each hundred and eighty parts of the four Territories." Dedrick explained. "Then the governors, answer to the Senate of that Territory. Remember though that there are eighty five people on each Senate. These people of the Senate, are the ones that answer directly to the Presidential Council. They did away with presidency and states. This way the governments united after World War three in an effort to create unity in the world as a whole. No longer is there a "them" or an "they". It is only "We" or "Us"." Dedrick said this as if it were rehearsed. "This is a nice thought and all. Yes… There were some nice perks to it. For the most part, wars did not stop. If not they grew worse. The world is overpopulated. We killing ourselves."

"What do I have to do with all of this?" Aaron asked. "This is all nice, but what role do I play at all?" This made Dedrick smile again.

"I have not the faintest clue. We only know, is that you had done a bit of petty blackmail and fraud. You clawed your way to a potential seat in the Eastern Territories Senate. Do you know what that means?"

"No."

"Of course. We will rectify that in a moment." Dedrick murmured with a wave of his hand. "You will have a chance to get to the Presidential Council themselves. You can make a difference. Most of all you can stop Kyle Delonas."

"Who is Kyle Delonas?" Aaron asked. He recalled the name once or twice.

"He is a powerful Politian now. Kyle Delonas is one of the key role players, in the Northern Senate. Already he has lifted several human rights banns in the Northern Territories. The other three Territories have had controversy on adopting these practices." Dedrick said shaking his head. "I apologize for the fact, that I have so much to say. I have so much to tell you, but you know nothing of what I speak." Dedrick said sheepishly. "Let me put it more simply." He smoothed his hair back. "Kyle Delonas has made it possible for live human testing to take place. As you know our world is vastly overpopulated. Correct?" Aaron nodded. "Delonas has passed a bill that has changed the rights of life imprisoned and death row inmates. Several penitentiaries and Federal prisons are overflowing with killers and other trash. Some of them are washed back into society due to over crowding or lost in transport, meaning they escaped. We have vast underground prisons now and many built on the surface and under our oceans just to house these felons."

"Why is this a bad thing? They are making room to house them aren't they? It can't be that bad." Aaron asked.

"That is the key point. This is only his first step. Now in the Eastern Territories, live life imprisoned inmates and death row inmates can be sold to scientific research facilities. It is one thing to study a dead body, but, to test on a live conscious man is a scientific gold mine." Dedrick said, shaking his head.

"Why is it legal to test on them? Don't they have rights as human beings. The constitution-"

"The constitution does not override mankind's voracious need to survive in absolute comfort." Dedrick interjected. "The Illuminati has witnessed much of this "plague that is man". Under the law they are no longer members of society because of their incarceration in this day and age. They are demoted to the simple title of "unclaimed" property. They have less rights than animals. It is a good way to cut down on crime and population. The sad fact is that more than thirty percent of the worlds population is now incarcerated. As long as the government supervises these tests then the testing facilities have free reign."

"Why?" Aaron asked. It was all so stupid.

"Overcrowding makes men and women desperate. The need for food and water will make one go to great lengths, even if one has a family to provide for. Can you blame them?" He asked. Aaron could not dispute this. If placed in the same situation, he could most likely do much the same.

"Why are we so overcrowded? What about the space colonization?" Aaron asked.

"It is a nice idea. We have enough to deal with on Earth. The colonization of space is going at less than one percent per ten years. It is expensive and very hard work to outfit ordinary citizens for a life in space. Only the rich can afford to live on the moon or mars. Terra-forming is even slower. To speed up the natural course of nature and even change it on an entire planet is very expensive." Again, Dedrick put forth a good argument. The man was not to be trifled with!

"Then what can I do? If anything at all?" Aaron asked helplessly.

"Regain your former knowledge, memories, and prowess." Dedrick quiet simply said. He reached down to the portfolio and pulled out a sheet of paper. There was an address written on it with a company name. Stapled to it were several blueprints and instructions.

"What is this?" Aaron asked, looking it over.

"The object of our survival." Dedrick answered. "It is a machine made to send electromagnetic signals through your spine and into your brain. A holographic screen provides a panoramic view."

"And this does what?"

"It is programmed with images, sights, sounds, and feelings. These shock the suppressed part of your brain. This should bring back any suppressed or forgotten memories." Dedrick said proudly.

"So it will work?" Aaron asked, he was very unsure.

"I have no idea." Dedrick said frowning.

"What? How do you know it works?" Aaron asked loudly. He swept his arms up. "This is stupid!"

"Why would it not work? You invented it, and designed it yourself." Dedrick said staring at Aaron as if he were a fool. Aaron was quickly growing tired of people staring at him like that.

"So a past me that I don't remember is going to bring peace?" Aaron asked sarcastically.

"Theoretically, yes." Dedrick answered.

"This is stupid."

"I beg to differ."

"Then lets agree to disagree!" Aaron muttered.

"That is an oxymoron. Humorous yes, but we do not have time for such things. We need to get you to that machine." Dedrick chided.

"I wasn't joking." Aaron muttered. "Who's to say it will work at all?" He asked looking at Dedrick with a raised eyebrow.

"Well very few things you do are faulty, Aaron. I know this from experience. You have more often than not bested me at a game of Chess and helped me solve several exciting mathematical expressions. If I remember correctly, you boasted, it would have a ninety one percent chance of success." Dedrick admitted begrudgingly. Aaron took this in, shaking his head.

"What about the other eight percent?" He asked.

"Oh that. Its nothing."

"What about the other eight percent?" Aaron asked again.

"Just a small problem… You got a tad… How do you say it?"

"Just spit it out man!" Aaron snapped. Rockeny stepped forwards. Dedrick looked at him , causing him to back away, and turned back to Aaron.

"You go a bit mad." Dedrick confessed. "Well a lot. In other words, it will fry your brains to a crisp if it fails." He held his hands in apology. "You asked."

"No its fine." Aaron muttered. He sat down in Dedrick's lounge chair and rubbed his temples. "Why are we doing all of this?"

"For the benefit of the majority of the worlds population and to prevent Kyle's final steps." Dedrick answered.

"What are those?"

"He plans to legalize nano technology."

"Through all this its still not legalized?" Aaron muttered.

"No. Computer port surgery was legalized but Nano technology is to much of a risk." Aaron had read about computer port surgery. It was also known as interfacing. Certain people underwent a risky surgery, to have, a computer jack embedded into the base of their skulls. This gave them the ability to interface with computer systems and electronics. The operation was reserved to military personnel, mostly. Not only could people get sick but they could upload a virus, directly into their consciousness. It could effectively drive them insane.

"Nano technology would boost the survival rate of people and allow the government, the ability to monitor every living person on Earth. Those who are not "upgraded" would be obsolete and decremented in their efforts to survive. Nano technology can boost memory functions, muscles functions, and slow down the aging process." Dedrick tutored. "Most of all it would turn the world into a living hell. Could you imagine men, more machine than man waging war, against one another? Wars that would last for centuries instead of years?"

"No I don't want to think of that." Aaron conceded.

"Neither do I. This is what would happen. Things would be very… terrible for the Illuminati also. This is were you come into play. You are to reverse the damage that Kyle Delonas has caused. No one should have that kind of power."

"Why is the Illuminati so at risk? Why not just kill Kyle Delonas?" Aaron asked.

"He is a political icon now. It is not that simple. You must destroy a symbols following before you destroy the symbol itself." Dedrick answered. "It is not as simple as that either. The Illuminati have always operated from the shadows. The nano technology could effectively broadcast the emotions of each person. In the future if could possibly allow them to broadcast intentions. Not thoughts, that is impossible, but intentions nevertheless."

"Is that why I came to the Illuminati?"

"Precisely." Dedrick said with a chuckle. "And what a card you dealt us. You knew we had the resources to fund your efforts against Kyle Delonas. Most of all you had isolated our worst fears." Dedrick continued. Aaron was confused and more than a bit shocked. He had blackmailed the Illuminati? From what he had seen, they were the most dangerous people he had ever seen. He had seen much in a short time.

"I blackmailed you?" He asked voicing his disbelief.

"Yes very much so." Dedrick muttered ruefully. "Not that you needed to. You said it was your "ace in the hole"."

"What was it?"

"You threatened to expose to the world what the Illuminati was comprised of. You had found what Kyle Delonas hadn't."

"What was it?" Aaron asked again, growing tired of Dedrick's riddles.

"You discovered that there was indeed two other strains of DNA, or two other groups of humanoid beings."

"Really? Who?" Aaron asked, not really understanding.

"Us." Dedrick said chuckling. He stood before the fireplace and folded his arms under his chest. "We are the Hemophages and Canine Hemophage."

"What is that?" Aaron asked. There were other sentient races besides humans of course, such as cats and dogs.

"Aaron. We are Vampires and Lycanthropes." Dedrick said succinctly.

"Wait…What?" That meant they were of an entirely different race that was not to Humans. This would mean they did not have DNA anything like a humans. They were something entirely different. "You mean like Vampires and Werewolves?" Aaron asked incredulously. He remembered watching shows with Cherry about them and reading about them with her. They had entertaining stories.

"Lycanthropes or Lycans." Rockeny corrected.

"Yes." Dedrick agreed. "We are not the blood thirsty monsters, perceived in your stories and movies. This is only a front put on by our ancestors to preserve our safety in the shadows." He stepped over to one of the bookshelves and pulled free an old book. Dedrick flipped through it and looked through the pages. "By out records we have been around just as long, if not a while longer, than your race." He said, shutting the books. "We are not "technically" considered a race. Our DNA is more of a virus."

"What do you mean?" Aaron asked. He was a few seconds from walking out of the room and leaving them from behind. This was all a little much to believe. "You drink blood and do other things to survive? You bite someone on the neck and they change?" Rockeny and Dedrick exchanged glances and shook their heads.

"No Aaron. Many of us must be born with genetic markers to withstand the fury of the virus." Dedrick said sadly. "There are not so many of us as there are people. For one. The virus of the Hemophage is not as malignant as you might think. It may take three to four exposures within a two week period for a person to be "turned" or "changed" as you put it. That is if their body can withstand the extreme changes. The virus itself infects the cells of the host and alters the RNA to produce new cells. These cells replace the old ones over the course of a month or so, slowly converting the person. In less than thirty percent of cases people will survive this change, even if they have the genetic markers to accept the change."

Dedrick taught. "It was worse when there was no technology to see if a person was compatible or not. It was a big guessing game."

"And this matters how to me?" Aaron asked dully.

"I'm getting to that Aaron." Dedrick said as if speaking to a child.

"Though they may change, they may die in about ten years. The cellular respiration rate is drastically increased in Hemophages and the Lupis Hemophage. There is a price to pay if you do not possess the proper assets to withstand the changes. Yes you will heal faster, see better, and be stronger than any living creature… But you will still die in about ten years. It raises the epinephrine and non epinephrine levels to such extremes that the body simply shuts down. They do not have the ability to disperse excess chemicals or energy in the form of heat. They simply contain it and later burst like a bubble.

Those that survive, gain, the theoretical "immortality". Our kind outlasts humans by unrecorded measures. The oldest of our kind has yet to pass on. He still sleeps.

The Lupis Hemophage are much the same. Their virus is much more malignant though. It kills more often than it turns though. It registers as common rabies in those that die. Vampires are weak to sunlight as we have little to no pigmentation and cannot ingest garlic due to our sensitive digestive systems. It takes time to rebuild our senses. Lycanthropes cannot touch silver to a sever allergic reaction, or ingest wolfs bane. These allergies grow worse with time.

The key thing we both need though is viable, human blood. We cannot reproduce our own blood platelets or white blood cells. Essentially we bleed to death or get very sick over time without, blood. It provides us the ability to regenerate much of our internal systems nearly indefinitely." Dedrick rubbed his chin. "Now that we that little lesson out of the way I can tell you the crux of the problem.

This Nano technology is a bunch of small machines, small on a microscopic level. They repair DNA, boost bodily functions, and have the ability to replicate themselves. Ingesting these could be lethal to the Illuminati and expose our two races to the rest of the world. They would exterminate us before studying us and trying to find a way to coexist."

"What do I do? Who are these people?" Aaron asked.

"You will lead the campaign against Kyle Delonas. He and his following are unlike anything I have ever encountered. The elders of our race know more about Delonas. We are in the process of finding them. It is a slow process, hunting down a being, so used to disappearing for over the course of millennia. Most of all it must be another man as "adapt" as him to defeat him." Dedrick assured. It seemed he was insinuating more. He looked as if he was going to say more. Aaron waited but he did not continue.

"I don't know if I can." He said, more unsure than before. How could he believe them. Now that they mentioned it, the people of the mansion did seem unreal. They all seemed to be from another place and time. It was all so hard to fathom. He could not deny what he had seen Rockeny do.

"I assure you that you can. Your machine will light the path. We must get you to it. I had you brought here to see if your heart still lay on the same path." Dedrick leaned forward and extended a pale hand. "Will you finish what you started? Are you will to speak for the dead?" He asked.

Aaron did not know what he should do. He blinked his eyes. That blink took the space of a seeming eternity. He looked upon the face of Cherry and the countless others he did not know. They were there, always crying out for him to justify their pain. He had never been more sure of anything in his life.

"Yes. I will." Aaron answered. He took Dedrick's hand. Dedrick pulled him to a stand and clapped him on the shoulder. "I have a question though. It is a little off topic." Aaron said embarrassedly.

"Ask away, my friend." Dedrick assured.

"How old are you if you are "immortal?" Aaron asked. Dedrick raised an eyebrow and tilted his head to the side.

"Old enough to be your grandfather four times over. Be a little less callous with your questions." Dedrick said with a chuckle. "Now off with you. Get some rest. You have a long journey you will embark on for the next few days. Rockeny will take you."

"To get my memories through my invention right?"

"Correct."

"Why not bring it here?" Aaron asked.

"I don't know." Dedrick answered honestly. "It is a lot of equipment. Moving all that would be a hassle. Some of the parts may have been lost. We don't know the first thing about how it works."

"Oh… Okay." Aaron muttered. That was as good a reason as any.

---

Kyle Delonas sat in front of his desk, with his eyes closed. He reviewed the scenes from the highway security cameras, he had stolen footage from. Kyle had made sure to replace the footage with a loop from a different date, to replace the gap.

Again he opened his eyes, and replayed the video. His men seemed to do things according to plan, checking peoples faces to the photo they had been given of Aaron. Down the street a man got out of one of the cars and ran over to the scene of the car wreck, that Kyle had staged.

One of the disguised police officers walked over and recognized the subject, Aaron. Kyle was sure it was Aaron! Why else would the his react that way? He pulled his gun, as he did the man dropped and another simply appeared behind him. The man that appeared grasped the mans wrist and made the disguised officer drop his gun. He must have been exerting some formidable force on the mans wrist. Kyle had read the files from the morgue himself.

He would have examined them himself but he had other pressing matters to deal with. There was a meeting in a few hours with the leaders of the Western Territories. They wished to discuss his ideas in advocating the Amending of the Human rights statute in their Territory. Several of the Senators from different Territories had already sided with him. Everything was beginning to fall into line. If he could keep this up without to many interruptions, everything would fall into line.

Still this footage puzzled him. It was not tampered with at all. The man in the footage lifted the disguised police officer with an arm and charged forward. The rest was either to fast for the cameras to follow, or he simply was not there. There were snatches of action here and there. The man was everywhere! No human being could move that fast!

Kyle tapped a finger to his chin. For a man so self enclosed, this was a fireworks display of emotion to those who knew him well. Sadly no one did. They were all dead. He could not afford anything to be ruined. This was one of the only things that could ruin him now. Inside he seethed with rage as he watched the man go up against his C-Caliber. The C-Caliber tossed a car at the man. It should have crushed him!

But no… The man lifted the car as he did in the other times, that Kyle had watched the footage. He lifted the car and tossed it like a paper weight back at the C-Caliber. Things seemed to be going well when the C-Caliber went on the offensive, until Aaron came along and shot the C-Caliber in the shoulder. That was the end of it. His man died and this mystery man and Aaron left and drove away. He lost track of them by the video feeds, when they left and drove on back roads and on older roads.

"Aaron…" Kyle whispered. He looked back at the screen and froze the frame on his mystery "super mans" face. "As for you… Who… No… What are you?"

---

Aaron and Dedrick had talked a little while longer into the night before they decided it was time to retire for the night.

Rockeny out and down a corridor, to his room. Aaron did not know what to think. It was all to much, and so soon. Vampires and Werewolves? No Lycans. They supposedly existed? This was just too ludicrous to even fathom. These people were insane. They could be something different perhaps, but Vampires and Lycans? Not likely. Not likely at all.

"Trust us. We have no reason to lie." Rockeny murmured, as if reading Aaron's mind. He opened a door and beckoned Aaron in. "This will be you room for tonight."

Aaron walked inside the room. In it was a well furnished room. There was a fine queen sized bed with a robe, towels, and some sleeping clothes resting on it. There was a window that over looked the grounds of the mansion. There was a restroom in the room also, Aaron discovered. It was furnished with soaps, and shampoos.

"If you please Aaron, do not try to leave this room, and keep the W.P.U.S. on at all times if you please." Rockeny said sweetly, before closing the door. At least he didn't threaten to try and break and of Aaron's bones again, if he tried to leave.

He seated himself on the bed and yawned. The room was just another version of a cell for him. This one was only better furnished. How he wished to be outside instead. It didn't matter. At least he had gotten some answers. Well, hopefully they were answers.

He got up and took a robe and towel to wash himself. In the shower he turned the water on as hot as it would go till it scalded his skin. He then turned it icy cold to cool his skin. Aaron repeated the process again and again and scrubbed himself with soap till he felt clean.

When finished in the bathroom he dressed in the pajamas provided and climbed under the covers of his bed. He rolled over and stared out the window for a little while.

Chapter 3:Down the Black Hall

After a few hours Aaron heard a knock at his door. It had grown bitterly cold. His breath fogged before him as he grasped the doorknob and pulled it open. There was no one there. The hallway was pitch dark. His hair stood on end again. He turned to close the door, but something caught his attention. Well someone. Before him stood the same little girl he had seen at Twin Rivers, the same from the car accident sight.

His eyes met her amber ones for a split second. Her form flickered and disappeared. He looked around and spotted her down at the end of the dark hallway. She beckoned him with the jerky motions of a corpse. Aaron stood there awhile and looked down the hallway at her in partial terror and more curiosity. His heart tugged him towards her. His very soul cried for him to step down that dark passage. His mind cried, Turn back! Scream! Scream!

But no… He did not scream. He stepped forward down the hall and placed one foot in front of the other. Aaron looked behind him. The door to his room had disappeared. It was just a blank wall behind him. It seemed there was no turning back. Wrapping his arms about himself, he walked down the hallway slowly and walked towards the little girl in the white nightgown. As he came within an arms reach of him she looked up at him, without expression. He wondered again who she was.

The world fell away around them. Blackness swirled around them. Hands brushed against his face and hands. Whispers echoed in his ears. No. Not in his ears. His very mind. He looked down towards were they were falling. A city stretched out beneath them, growing towards them. Aaron recognized this city. Panic welled in his heart. He covered his eyes.

He did not look till the falling sensation died away. Slowly he cracked his fingers and looked about the city. The moon and the sun stood side by side. It was both night and day here for some reason. There was not a person or living thing in the city. Cars littered the streets, newspapers drifted by like desert cacti. He stood in the midst of a street filled with empty cars. The engines were still on, and the street lights flashed a tattoo of green, yellow, and red. Slowly one by one the street lights began to flicker and turn off behind him. Were they turned off, pitch black remained.

Aaron walked forwards away from the darkness that swallowed the city behind him. Whispers and the shuffling of feet gathered behind him as he walked forwards. He walk turned into a jog, then an all out run. He continued running. He came to a bridge, filled with more cars. These were arranged in a crude circle. Some of them were flipped or crushed, smoldering in with flames. Smoke filled the air around him. The street on the bridge was shattered and cracked, as if hit by mortar rounds. In the midst of all of this was that little girl. She stood before a massive wolf. He was about to cry out for her to run away, before the both looked over at him. She patted it on the head and looked at Aaron as he came forwards.

"What is this place?" Aaron asked. The little girl turned and whispered in the wolfs ear, before turning back to Aaron as if he had never spoke. "Why am I here? I don't understand!" Aaron cried. The little girl tilted her head to the side.

Follow the Wolf. A voice echoed. This voice that echoed was comprised of the screams and cries of a multitude of people he should know. Those that he could not remember. Each and everyone of them was inextricably tied to his soul in some way though. This he knew for a fact.

Before he could ask more there was a great explosion that radiated from the center of the circle of cars. The ground lifted up and disintegrated. It gained more power and radiated outwards, consuming everything. It swept through Aaron and obliterated him with everything else. Over the roar of the explosion were the screams of the countless multitudes.

Aaron sat up in bed and bit down on his fist as he did when he had these kind of nightmares. His teeth drew blood, the metallic tang brought him back to full awareness. He sat there shaking for awhile. Aaron drew his knees to his chest, and rested his face in them. He did not sleep fully for the rest of the night. He pondered what the little girl had spoken of. Most of all… He dared not sleep again.

---

Rockeny had taken a comfortable chair and seated it down the hallway from Aaron's door. He seated himself there and resigned himself to peering down in the darkness. Long ago he had done this. It was not a big deal. He did not need the boy to run off and do something foolish. Right now he was at his most vulnerable. He needed to be monitored.

Rockeny tilted his head to the side and listed to the boys clear heartbeat, from behind his door. Downstairs there were whispers and people walking about in the lower quarters of the mansion, preparing things, for Aaron and Rockeny's departure.

He sighed and leaned his head back and stared at the ceiling. It was cold tonight. Unusually colder than it should have been.

There was a tug at his sleeve. It was the tug of a small girls cold hand. Rockeny craned his head and looked down slowly. He was not very surprised. To say he was not at all would be an understatement.

"Hi." The girl said, smiling sweetly. She had auburn eyes, and long black hair that framed her pale porcelain colored face. She was dressed in a nightgown. She was most likely no older than eleven.

"What do you want?" Rockeny asked, none to kindly.

"Oh don't be rude Rockeny!" The little girl exclaimed. She sighed and folded her little arms across her chest.

"Shouldn't you be sleeping in a grave somewhere?" Rockeny asked. The little girl giggled and tilted her head to the side.

"No. Why do you ask?"

"Because your dead. I must be sleeping. Figures." Rockeny muttered sarcastically.

"You're a smart one." The little girl said clapping her hands. There wasn't really anything smart about, truth be told. No one snuck up on Rockeny, ever. There was nothing in this world that quiet. She had no heartbeat, no scent. All of his other senses told him there was nothing there. "Your going to come with me for a little while." The little girl said grasping his hand.

Rockeny stood and slapped her hand away.

"What makes you think I wouldn't mind going back to my happy dreaming?" Rockeny asked. The little girl only tilted her head to the side and looked up at him like he were a little child. All females had a knack for looking down their noses at people, without the need for height.

"You really think I would fall for that? It's fine with me if you wish to go along dreaming about your loved ones dying again and again. How you failed them. You could never get there, no matter how strong you were. People getting killed because of you… And so on and so on. I could go on." The little girl mused listlessly. "Your going to do what I want whether you want to or not."

Rockeny was balked by the little girl. Who was she? Rockeny stared down at her with a piercing, wide eyed glare. He would have slit her throat by now. What could you do to a dead person that would hurt them. Rockeny sighed and shook his head.

"Alas, you have me caught. Let us be off then." Rockeny conceded. The little girl smiled and took his hand.

"I knew you would see things my way."

"Who are you?" Rockeny asked.

"Who me? I'm just a cute, little girl named Victoria." She said smiling. "And you're my new friend." Victoria added. As they walked down the hallway, the scenery changed. they reappeared in the middle of an empty city street. Rockeny looked around at the street and its unoccupied cars and stands.

He pushed the little girl back with a hand and squared his shoulders, digging his feet in.

"Stay back." Rockeny warned. In the shadows of the city the shuffling of feet and moans of countless dead could be heard. She pushed his hand away and walked past him, skipping along.

"Its okay Rocky. Their not going to hurt you as long as your with me." She soothed. "Just don't stray to far or they'll eat you. They hate everything in general now. These things won't hesitate to kill you." She intoned with a cheery voice. Rockeny sighed and walked along, following the little girl. There was not much he could do in this necropolis. He was just uneasy, walking around with such intense hatred around him. It was almost tangible. If one breathed in to deeply, it left a tang like vinegar on the back of ones throat.

"How are you involved in this?" Rockeny asked.

"Someone's got to direct all this hate." Victoria answered.

"You're a witch?" Rockeny asked tilting his head to the side. He never did like them very much. Now it all made sense. This must have been part of a curse that she cast. That would mean that Aaron was being used by the curses will. But to what end?

"Yes. Well kind of. I'm pretty dead now." The little girl grumbled. She skipped along and pulled onto a tattered bridge and bade him stand in the crude circle of cars.

"Watch the show." She said, sitting on the hood of one the cars. Like phantoms, people appeared one by one they all looked at the center of the circle were he stood. Rockeny turned and looked. It was that boy Aaron. He was lying on the ground. Some distance away was a man dressed in a suit not to far away from him.

The people standing about them looked on in horror. Aaron stood and moved towards the man and swung at him, fighting in vain. Rockeny found himself wishing that Aaron would simply lay down and die. Why put himself through so much pain.

"This was the deciding point. This is also were I died." Victoria muttered. She pointed towards an image of herself standing in the crowd, watching the fight ensue. It was over quickly. "He couldn't save us. Not because he couldn't save us. It was because we were in the way. He couldn't go all out with us, standing around. We could have died, so he held back."

Rockeny looked away, as the man tossed Aaron from the top of the bridge into the icy waters below. He truly pitied Aaron. He had lost so much. No person deserved that kind of pain. As much as he tried to deny it, part of him did feel for Aaron, in some semblance of a human fashion.

"Why are you showing me this?" Rockeny asked, as the seen disappeared.

"Now is the listening time." Victoria said snapping her fingers. Rockeny suddenly found himself with a different perspective. He was closer to the ground and felt different. When he opened his mouth to speak, only a bark came out.

The little girl came to him and rested a hand on his head. Rockeny could only growl at her.

"You needed to be shown what he has gone through. If not then you would always judge him by his seeming innocence and foolishness." Victoria said. "He has a great long path ahead of him. He will fulfill my curse and destroy Kyle Delonas. The multitude of over a ten thousand hatreds burn behind him. But you, Rockeny, will strike the deciding blow. This has been decided for you. Your redemption lies with him." She looked off to the side. Rockeny looked with her. There came Aaron in the distance. He came upon them and looked over at them.

"What is this place?" He asked.

Victoria turned back to Rockeny and whispered in his ear. "He is the light. He will burn so bright, he will start the purge of the world. It has been decided." She looked back to Aaron. She ignored his questions. Giving him an answer that Rockeny could not hear. A bright light flashed out to consume them all.

Rockeny opened his eyes and leaned forwards. It was no longer cold. There was a hint of bile gathering at the back of his throat. He sighed and leaned back in the chair. This boy Aaron was a much more complicated person that he had thought. For some reason there were other forces at play here. He feared that he and Aaron were merely pawns for some great game.

---

That next morning Aaron opened the door just as Rockeny was going to knock. He had dressed himself and cleaned himself up.

"Did you not sleep last night?" Rockeny asked.

"No." Aaron answered. "Lets go." Rockeny nodded and led Aaron downstairs. They walked through the mansion to the parking garage. Rockeny scanned his W.P.U.S. on the doors registration pad. The door swung open, revealing a large garage that lit up slowly. From front to end, exotic cars filled it, all parked and freshly polished.

The floor under one of the cars lit up. It was a jet black sports car, that resembled a rocket. It had two exhaust pipes and was very low to the ground. The car rotated on the floor and slowly moved over, down the row of cars. It was turned so that it pointed away from them. The garage door opened, a rectangle of light down the expanse of cars. Rockeny walked over to the car and opened its door upwards. Aaron climbed in with Rockeny.

"How many car's do you own?" Aaron asked.

"Oh? This one? This one belongs to the Illuminati. I have my own private collection at home." Rockeny said with a dry chuckle. He pushed the ignition. The car made barely a sound as it started. The tire wheels skidded on the garage floor as Rockeny slammed the gas. The jump in speed, jerked them back in their seats. After a few seconds the feeling of moving fast disappeared. "But you if you really want to know, its thirty six." Rockeny answered.

"Thirty six what?"

"Thirty six cars, and mine you, mine are much nicer than these pieces of trash." Rockeny boasted.

"Why not drive those?" Aaron asked sarcastically.

"And risk them on these hazardous missions? Not likely." Rockeny answered quickly. Aaron smiled inwardly. He had figured the man would say as much.

They sped down the street, dodging and weaving in and out of traffic with ease. Several cars honked in disapproval.

"What happens if the police follow us?" Aaron asked.

"What about them?" Rockeny asked, as he hit the brakes, causing them to skid in a turn.

"What if they decide to stop you for speeding and erratic driving?"

"Oh we only have to drive proper in certain zones." Rockeny said chuckling. "We own most of the land around here. Most of the police force belongs to us too. You don't get it. The Illuminati have their fingers in everything. No one is safe from our influence. The only difference between us and Kyle is that we do not wish to decide for people, how they will live. Our main objective is to ensure the survival of the Human race."

"Because their your food sources?" Aaron asked.

"Yes."

"So is that why the Illuminati exists?" Aaron asked.

"No not the only reason. Just the main reason. There are more subtle aspects. The Lycan and Vampire population must be constantly monitored. Most of the two races are registered. There are strays here and there. Those are either integrated or erased. If one race gained the upper hand then the entire world would be overrun. It is much like the relationship between the wolf and the mountain lion. They both hunt some of the same prey. They are in competition with one another for food. Each most likely has a family to feed.

This way they keep one another's population in check. They will meet and kill one another or one will be killed. One will thrive for a while and the other will dwindle. The odds will change again in a few years. It is the law of nature. It is the law of survival." Rockeny answered.

Aaron had not thought that something so simple would be so necessary.

"How long as the Illuminati existed?" Aaron asked.

"Around the time of the Templar Wars. That would be, close to almost two and a half thousand years ago." Rockeny answered. He seemed to stare off into space. He looked much older right then. It was a little disconcerting to see such a proud powerful man show a sign of vulnerability. Just as soon as it was there it was gone though. Rockeny was back to his usual conceited, cocky attitude.

"Do you know were we are going?" Aaron asked, changing the topic.

"I don't know. Let me check the GPS." Rockeny muttered. He tapped a button on the steering wheel and pulled up the cars heads up display (HUD). It showed a map with a green dot on it. Aaron supposed, the green dot signified their position. There was a path highlighted before the green dot, with another down the twisting line. Rockeny nodded and set the car on autopilot. The seat leaned back on its own, allowing him to stretch out.

"Wait you didn't know this entire time?" Aaron asked.

"No. I was just enjoying a nice drive." Rockeny answered back, closing his eyes. "Do shut it for awhile, so I may take a nap. Let me know if anyone tries to kill us."

Aaron looked at him with an expression akin to a serial killers. He turned his head and leaned it against the window of the car, watching the scenery.

Aaron opened his eyes later. He had not realized he had fallen asleep then. A beeping sound had awoken him. There was a blue colored dot with a line leading from it to their green dot, on the map.

"What are you doing?" Aaron asked. As he asked the HUD flashed and Dedrick's face came into view.

"Yes. What are you doing Rockeny?"

"Making a detour." Rockeny muttered, leaning back in his seat.

"That is not part of your assignment. You are not allowed in that area. Turn aro-"

"Yes. Yes. I know the entire speech word for word. Save it for later shall you?" Rockeny said, cutting him off. "I will have everything taken care of, trust me." Rockeny waved at the screen.

"Don't you dare Rockeny!" But it was to late. Rockeny had terminated the link, leaving a fuming Dedrick Crawford to sit behind his desk.

"Yeah! Why are we changing course? Shouldn't we go straight to this "machine" that I supposedly built?" Aaron asked. This only earned a sigh from Rockeny. It was more of a sigh of annoyance.

"So many questions boy. I have played this game of cat and mouse much longer than Dedrick has." Rockeny answered calmly. Aaron leaned forward and pulled the HUD over to him with a finger. He zoomed in on the map and looked it over. The controls were more or less the same as the A.I.S. booklet he had owned. He closed his eyes for a second, pushing back unwanted emotions and memories.

"This "little detour" of yours is over four hundred miles away." Aaron muttered. He checked the speedometer. "At this rate it will take us a couple of days to get there."

"Trust me. Its well worth it." Rockeny simply said.

"What's worth it? What is so important that, is over four hundred miles away Rockeny?" Aaron asked sarcastically. He grew weary of Rockeny's simple and "matter of fact" attitude.

"That "something", that is over four hundred miles away is a sword."

"A sword? Some old sword you left in a storage shed?" Aaron asked with a snort. He slid the HUD back to Rockeny and sat in his seat, folding his arms over his chest.

"Not just "some old sword"!" Rockeny exclaimed. "My sword."

"What's so special about "your" sword, Rockeny?"

"It was made especially for me." Rockeny answered in a quiet voice.

"Why not get another instead of driving over, Four-Hundred-Miles?" Aaron asked, emphasizing each of the last three words he had said.

"This one was made not to break when I swung it." Rockeny said. This time he did not use his flat tone. He was being openly honest. A special sword made for him? That was a chilling thought indeed. Aaron shivered at the thought of seeing Rockeny with a blade.

"Why not use a gun?" Aaron asked.

"I do. I always keep one on me. I prefer my trusty blade. No breeze or distance will stop its accuracy. It shall never let me down." Rockeny answered, returning to his flat tone.

"Whatever you say." Aaron said with a sigh. He looked over at the distant landscape with a bored expression.

The long drive and staring at different landscapes grew boring after a short while. Aaron fidgeted in his seat and looked over at Rockeny. The Lycan sat there with his eyes closed, dozing peacefully.

"Rockeny?" Aaron asked. The man did not answer. "Rockeny?" Aaron asked again. Still Rockeny did not answer. Aaron reached over to touch his shoulder. The man opened a single eye. It moved about and locked onto Aaron. It looked a feral yellow for a second, before it faded to a golden brown. The site was eerie.

"What is it?" Rockeny asked. There was more of an edge of irritation in his voice.

"When will we get there?" Aaron asked.

"Why don't you do the calculations with the cars A.I.S.?" Rockeny asked back.

"Well, I am bored. It didn't occur to you that maybe I would like to strike up a conversation?" Aaron asked. Nowadays he was always trying for something to keep his mind preoccupied. He wanted nothing more than to get away from his mental torments. Unpleasant conversations or other pointless things were better than dwelling on his own thoughts.

"Did it not occur to you earlier that I did not wish to hear your voice for a few hours?" Rockeny asked back.

"Maybe, you didn't realize that I have been helping you guys out!" Aaron shouted in exasperation.

"You have not, the slightest inkling, as to what you are supposed to do." Rockeny chuckled dryly. "You haven't even known your own name until now."

Aaron opened his mouth to give another come back. Rockeny raised his hand. "I have a deal. You shut your mouth for the rest of the ride. If you can do that I will tell a story to you. This should keep you entertained, yes?" Rockeny asked.

"It's better than nothing I suppose." Aaron muttered. "Talk away."

"Remember though. No talking." Rockeny reiterated.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Just tell the damn story." Aaron answered.

"Alright, alright. No need to get antsy." Rockeny soothed in his most flat voice. "Our story takes place with a man traveling through a town. Let us say his name was "Timbre". Timbre had lived for over one thousand years. He traveled from battlefield to battlefield as a traveling mercenary. An immortal could not stay in one place to long. People would notice that he did not ever grow old. People would notice that he never got sick.

Most of all he would have to watch his loved ones die again and again. The place for a man such as this to work was on the battlefield. Mercenaries were hired for a few pounds each then. They would be the first assault, or the front lines of the war effort. Those that were killed, their share, was divided amongst the others. Usually mercenaries were all killed in a battle. The ones that survived were handsomely rewarded though.

Timbre was on his way to one such another battlefield. He was simply passing through another town. He recognized this one though.

Timbre made his way through the town square to an old tavern. He pushed open the door and was greeted by the familiar sounds and smells of a tavern. The tavern was unusually quiet that evening though. Many of the regulars sat quietly and sipped their drinks in piece. Barely a whisper could be heard. Those that were not regulars adopted the mood quickly also.

Amongst the people an old serving woman made her way over to Timbre. She was the husband of the tavern owner. She shook Timbre's hand and pulled him into a hug. She waved over to a man behind the counter, her husband. He came over and clasped Timbre's hand. They both bore somber expressions. The sad realization dawned upon Timbre. He looked to the stairwell that led upstairs.

"She has faded away?" Timbre asked the couple. The couple were the Magnovich's, good people. These good people had been blessed with a beautiful daughter. Alas, these good people had been dealt a cruel card. Their only daughter Tulia, was born sickly. She would never leave her bed, or know the joys of the outside world. The physicians had said that she would not make it past her first summer, when she was born. The little girl had proved them wrong and persisted under the loving care of her parents. Tulia clung to life for the next ongoing years. She sat in the same bed all her life, upstairs, looking down at the people in the town below.

Timbre had met her when she was four. He had come to visit her every year or so whenever he was in the area. Today was a chance encounter.

"No. She is fading away. The physicians say that she won't make it through the night." The tavern owner said softly. Timbre squeezed the mans shoulder.

"May I see her?" Timbre asked. The girls mother smiled through her tears and patted Timbre's cheek.

"Silly man. She has asked for you time and time again. Seeing you will lift her spirits." Timbre nodded and forced a smile for the couple. He truly did pity the couple. As the years passed Timbre found it harder to pity people or to even find some sort of emotional attachment to anyone.

Timbre bid them well, and made his way upstairs to see Tulia. He remembered walking these very steps many times. He half expected to see Tulia sitting up and smiling, saying her famous lines.

"Hello! Were have you come from? Won't you stay awhile and tell me a story of your travels?"

But no. The petite brunette girl lay in bed, sleeping. Timbre walked in and pulled up a chair next to her bed and rested a hand on hers briefly. This was a rare gesture of affection for him.

"Hello Tulia." Timbre said. "I'm back from my travels again. This time we crossed a large ocean. I don't think you would be able to imagine how vast it was." Timbre chuckled as he said this. She was asleep, but he was sure that she could hear him.

He did not tell her of the battle he had undergone with the crews mutiny. Supplies had been short and men had starved to death.

No… He did not tell her about how the battle turned the waters red with blood. He did not tell her of the fish that floated to the surface of the water, choking on the blood, nor how many of the men fed on the fish to feed themselves afterwards.

Instead he told her of pretty things. He told her of how the water glittered like a thousand diamonds. He told her how refreshing a drink of water was, not about how him and his men had retreated after receiving many losses. He described the look of the fog that settled over the meadows in the morning and the evening, the beautiful flowers, the single flower that remained standing.

He did not tell her about the bodies that had strewn all over the meadows, the dying that cried out in the foggy night.

Timbre did not tell her these terrible things simply because he cared about her. It was also for his own sake. When she had asked why he carried a sword at all times, he would lie that it was because, the road was harsh and dangerous. This little girl harbored for him, a small shred of humanity that he had left. Now this little girl was dying. He dared to say that he loved her like a daughter!

He sat there awhile in silence. His stories were spent and he could only watch her sleep. Tulia stirred slightly. She looked over at Timbre and smiled.

"Hi." She said cheerily. Tulia extended her hand. Timbre took hers in his.

"It is good to see you again." Timbre whispered.

"Stay awhile?" She asked.

"Always." He answered softly. Timbre sat there in silence as she drifted back to sleep. Her breathing grew more shallow and rapid. Timbre held her hand tightly in hers. Why? Why did she need to die amongst all the filth in the world?

"Timbre?" She asked, pulling him from his dark thoughts.

"Yes?"

"I'm scared." Tulia answered. It seemed they both knew her time was near.

"Don't be." He answered smiling down at her. In truth he held back tears.

"Why?" She asked looking up at him.

"I'll meet you on the on the other side." Timbre assured. That was his last lie to her. A few seconds after she gave her last breath. Timbre pulled her into his arms and held her till her body grew cold. For the first time in a long time… Timbre cried." Rockeny finished the story softly. He had a pained expression on his face. It was simply a story.

Aaron looked at Rockeny and watched the mans expression. His somber look swiftly vanished, but his eyes had lost much of their spark. "Happy now? Go to sleep boy." Rockeny answered.

Aaron honored his end of the bargain. Rockeny seemed to be a much deeper and complex individual than seemed apparent.

As they day wore on they stopped once for a restroom break and to grab food from a resting station. The entire time Aaron ran the story through his head. He pondered whether or not this was truth or if it was fiction. If Rockeny was one of the immortals than how old was he really? He seemed to be very well known amongst the Illuminati. The days wore on and Aaron found himself meditating or sleeping the time away. Whenever he did wake up, Rockeny seemed to still be asleep. The Lycan did not stir a single time, unless it was time for them to stop for a rest break. The man seemed to possess the ability to sleep indefinitely!

Aaron awoke the sound of a loud beeping noise. He opened his eyes to look at the source of the noise. The cars HUD was flashing.

"Approaching destination." The computer chimed in its artificial voice. Rockeny leaned forward and switched off the HUD, silencing the incessant beeping noise.

"Are we here?" Aaron asked sleepily.

"No. We are approaching it now. The deal still stands Aaron. Please shut it." Rockeny answered him tersely. Aaron bit back a smart remark and honored his end of the bargain.

They pulled into a large city. Cars moved back and forth amidst a sea of people. Signs flashed and holographic projections advertised services or products in an endless loop. Rockeny looked from side to side in the city, as they drove along. He came to a stop on the other side of a street, before a massive building.

"We are here now. Watch the car for me. If there is any commotion, drive to the edge of the city." Rockeny said, opening his door.

"Which edge?" Aaron asked as Rockeny climbed out.

"I'll find you." Rockeny called over his shoulder. The man became lost in the sea of people, as he crossed the street to the massive building they were parked before. It must have been the museum Rockeny had spoken of.

Aaron scooted over and seated himself in the drivers seat. He contemplated ditching Rockeny, but then he remember the mans promise to find him. Not a man, Aaron reminded himself, a Lycan. This monster would find him no matter were he ran!

Aaron sighed and resigned himself to waiting there for the man.

Rockeny walked up the steps of the museum slowly, looking about it. Once inside he made his way to the information desk. There were security personnel on the premises, they would most likely be watching the security feeds though. The only other personnel present, were the automated AIS holographs. They appeared over a blue strip that lined the top and bottom of the museum, running in all directions.

Rockeny approached on of the blue strips. A man appeared before him.

"Welcome to the Honkendans Museum of art and history." The AIS projection chimed. It appeared in the shape of a man wearing a formal suit. The man pulled up several holographic boxes. "Please select your exhibit. If this is your first time here please select our automated tour."

Rockeny ignored the program and scrolled through the selection of exhibits. He scrolled to the 15th and 16th century exhibits. He decided he would start with the fifteenth and work his way down.

"Right this way sir." The AIS holograph chimed. He followed it down the halls past cavemen standing about a fire. There were several animals posed in certain positions. Suits of armor hung on racks or were arranged in cases about them. The AIS system began to speak about the history of the items they passed. Rockeny paid no heed to it. Most of the history people knew of was diluted or it was simply a man's view of the events taken place, hence the terminology, history. It was "His" or "Her" story.

Besides much of the history in the museum, Rockeny had witnessed first hand. He walked to through the fifteenth century exhibit and walked about the large room, that held suits of armor and different artifacts. There were several broken swords and swords with no hilts, in glass cases. None of their styles were close the kind his had, had. He continued on down the adjoining hall to the next room, filled with the next centuries history and artifacts. There three massive, ominous statues in the room. They all stood like sentinels, grasping the hilt of a massive stone sword. The AIS systems chattered on about the history contained in the room as he looked from glass case to glass case. None of them held his sword.

Behind him he heard the AIS system address another person. He turned his head slightly and inhaled the different scents floating about in the room. There was the musky odor of people and the smell of different colognes and perfumes. A hint of ozone floated about in the room from the holographic projectors lasers. Underneath all of this was the scent of blood, death, and wet dog. Rockeny straightened his back and slid his hands into his pockets. There were three people in the room. He could hear their individual heartbeats from here. One of them was calm the other two were frightened.

Rockeny spoke before they did, without turning.

"I suppose Dedrick has sent you here for me? You are to escort me away from this place?" Rockeny asked. One of them stepped forwards. The calm one. This one smelt the strongest of blood and death, more so than the others.

"You presume correctly, Sire Rominov. Please come quietly with us. Mr. Crawford has requested your services, for this operation be terminated. You are to leave with us." The man answered in a deep bass voice. "We have the asset in our sights. We would prefer you bring him back with us yourself. We would prefer him not to rebel. It is best since he is most familiar with you."

"I am only here for my-"

"You sword? Yes we know about your sword Sire Rominov. You are not to allowed possession of that object again unless instructed by the Illuminati." The man said, cutting Rockeny off. Rockeny sighed. He hoped that Aaron would take care of himself.

"My sword comes first. Without it. We all die." Rockeny intoned.

"No. Without the asset we die." The man answered.

"Wrong again youngling." Rockeny said, using the last word in a derogatory fashion. Calling either a Vampire or Lycan a youngling was an insult enough. It was akin to calling them weak and useless, someone without a purpose. "The blade is the only way I may keep him alive. What we face, was exterminated once at a great cost. We must not take risks this time. The gamble is greater this time."

"There is only one person in danger of harm or death at the moment." The man retorted.

"That is you." Rockeny snarled. He turned just as the man crossed the room. The man hurtled at Rockeny and veered to the side. His two followers slammed into Rockeny's arms pushing him against the wall. The man turned and slammed a fist into Rockeny's chin. Had the man not been ready for the blow it would have snapped his neck. Rockeny instead, used the force of the blow to swing the two younglings holding him and fling them from him. They took his jacket sleeves with them. Dark bloody furrows were left on his forearms. As the scent of blood filled the room, the three attackers stances became more feral. Before they could move though, Rockeny was already upon them.

Rockeny moved with such speed, his form flickered. It was an after image left behind by the three's eyes trying to process what had happened.

He reappeared before them. Two of them were smart enough to dart to the side as this happened. The unlucky one received a slash to the throat. Rockeny's nails sliced the mans throat open, tearing his jugular open. As the Lycan tried to staunch the bleeding, so it would heal. Rockeny slammed a cupped hand into the mans ear. The force sent air into the mans ear canal, shattering his ear drum and causing his skull to shatter like an egg. He crumpled to the ground, bleeding from his eyes, mouth, and ears. Instead of trying to assess the situation, Rockeny hit the ground and rolled to the side. A blade swept over were his head had been.

The old blade used would not cleave his head off, but the blood loss and nerve damage could slow him down. Rockeny swept a leg out, knocking the sword wielders feet from under him. Rockeny grasped the blade and snapped it in his hand. It crumpled into hundreds of brittle shards. He grasped one and stabbed the man in the throat with it. The man gurgled and grasped shard. Rockeny stood and kicked the Lycan in his temple. There was a crack of bone and the man fell still.

He stood and laid eyes on the lone Lycan. He stood before one of the stone statues. Something dawned upon Rockeny.

"Thank you." Rockeny said smiling lightly. The smile did not reach his eyes. The man backed up to towards the statue, further proving Rockeny's theory. That is were they hid Rockeny's blade! Right before him. The man whirled and grasped the blade from the statues hands and wrenched it loose. The stone blade was roughly five feet and a half feet long. The Lycan hefted it easily though, with both hands. He lifted it and slammed it on the museum floor. Chunks of the stone blade fell off, revealing the metal beneath. The real blade hidden in its stone sheath.

"You are old… Strong." Rockeny murmured, indicating the Lycan hefting his massive blade. "But no were near strong enough."

The man snarled and ran towards Rockeny. He could not move as quickly as he had once before, due to the blades massive weight. Rockeny chuckled. The man swung in a wide arc. The weight of the blade dragged him down. It was easy for Rockeny to dodge the swords edge. He grasped the mans wrist and twisted sharply, snapping it like a twig. The man dropped the blade and leapt back.

Rockeny leaned over and lifted his sword lovingly. He held it up to the light and ran a finger along its edge. It had grown so dull due to mistreatment. This genuinely angered him. Rockeny let it fall to a rest on his shoulder. The other Lycan actually showed genuine fear this time. Rockeny walked forwards and tilted his head to the side.

"Do you have any idea who I really am?" Rockeny asked. The man backed away slowly, tensing to either run or attack. Rockeny was guessing the fool would attack. He was an Illuminati dog. "I am your Advent." Rockeny intoned. The mans eyes widened in shock and his face began to grow pale.

"Witness true power. You fool." He hissed with a scowl. Rockeny swept his left arm out. So swiftly did his arm move that it flickered and disappeared, reappearing at the end of its arc. The man made a move to jump away when Rockeny moved. As he moved to get away a long, wide blast of glowing, white hot air slammed into his legs. The wall behind him exploded as if a rocket had been fired. The man was flung aside into the wreckage.

There was a great torrent of smoke. Rockeny walked through it and stood over the gasping Lycan. The mans legs had been shattered and mangled beyond recognition. He smiled cheerily, lifting his blade with his right hand. Rockeny let the blades massive weight slice through the mans skull.

Already sirens could be heard. There were screams and the sounds of shouting people. Rockeny rested his blade on a shoulder. That was his cue to leave.

Aaron had been waiting patiently in the car as Rockeny had instructed when the massive explosion, blew the side wall of the museum open. Aaron started and stared for a few moments. He looked about, and spotted a few men moving towards his position. Aaron gunned the engine to life, scanning his WPUS into the cars onboard computer scanner.

He was jerked back into the seat as it shot forwards. It slammed into a car that had been driving by. Aaron put it into reverse, cursing, and steered it and began to drive it through traffic. The man that had begun to make their way towards him began running. A few cars pulled from normal traffic and began chase after him.

Aaron frantically maneuvered the car through the traffic. He had never driven a vehicle before. The result had him slamming into several other cars and ripping the paint from their sides. He couldn't help shout apologizes that they would not hear. All this for a single damned sword? Would it really make a difference at all?

Aaron sped down the streets. Already sirens were going off. Ambulances and fire trucks sped past him in the opposite direction. He looked over his shoulder at the cars chasing him. Big mistake. He sped a red light and slammed into a oncoming traffic. So much for making it to the edge of town. How could Rockeny not have anticipated this? The reckless fool!

He slammed into the car in front of him. The windshield blew inwards, showering him with razor edged, shards of glass. Another car hit the cars side ,as the air bags deployed. He felt a sense of weightlessness as the car flipped and landed on its back. The inertia of the impact knocked the breath from his chest. The cars frame crumpled like tinfoil around him. There was a great wrenching noise. The car door was torn off and hands pulled him from the car. He cried out as the fingers dug in like steel vice grips, heedless of the seatbelt and his many cuts and scrapes.

A black wool bag was pulled over his head and he was thrown in a car.

"Please don't try anything foolish boy. We are here to bring you back. We apologize for the inconvenience. We did not expect that man to do something like that." A man said next to him.

"He already has the sword you fool!" A man in the front said. Aaron reached up to pull the hood from his head. His hands were slapped down. Someone tied a hard elastic band around his wrists.

"Is this really necessary?" Aaron asked. "I've already been to the Illuminati base before!" Aaron protested.

"Who said we were affiliated with the Illuminati? Who the hell is that?"

"An ancient organization based in the late 17th century by Adam Weishapt. He was a Professor of a Catholic Church ,based on Canon Law at the University of Inglolstodt, Bavaria in Germany. He was a catholic priest that believed in Satanism and Humanism. The idea was something like "The Novus Ordo Seculorum". It means something like "The New Age" or the "New World Order"." The man muttered. "They died out a long time ago. Seems like our friend is into Satanism." The man laughed. Aaron kept his mouth shut. These men were sharp but they were cocky. Hopefully they would overlook the little tidbit, of information, that Aaron had accidentally let slip. He would need to mind what he said from now on.

"So. How do we do this?" One of the men asked. He felt the muzzle of a gun pressed against his temple.

"Why not kill him and take his ear or head back to Kyle?"

"We get more money if we bring him back alive. You should know that. He doesn't trust anyone."

"I don't blame the man. Besides, if we somehow screwed this up and he survived, we would take his place." One of them muttered.

"What shifter has ever survived a bullet to the head?" The muzzle pushed against the side of his head.

"You never know. Don't take any chances. We do this right. We kill him in front of Kyle. End of story."

"Whatever you say man." The one next to him conceded. He took the pistol away from Aaron's temple. The drive continued in silence. They turned on the radio after awhile. Aaron could not hear what they said. He did not worry. Evidently. This was the end. He hadn't accomplished anything.

Once again there was that tingling sensation on the back of his neck. This time it was welcome. A small hand pulled up the front of his hood. A pair of small eyes looked ,inside at him.

"Look what kind of situations you put yourself into." The little girl giggled. She was kneeling on his feet. She tilted her head to the side. She leaned over and fiddled with the straps on his wrists. "I can't do EVERYTHING for you." She muttered. She pulled them loose and pulled the hood from his head. "But I can give you a nudge in the right direction." He looked about. The four men in the car sat talking in slow motion. Everything was in slow motion. Aaron looked back towards the little girl. She was gone.

Aaron knew what to do. He darted forwards and slammed his fist into the jaw of the man next to him and drove and elbow back into the eye of the one to the other side of him. Aaron was in a flurry of violence. Time seemed to speed back up the second he landed his first hit. The men began to shout. Mostly it was confusion as to how he was loose.

A hand grasped his hair and jerked his head back violently. Aaron moved with it and slammed the back of his head into the mans face. He lunged forwards and violently punched the man in his throat again and again. He was pulled back again. Even so the driver was stunned. Even if they were like him, they were not as calculated and viscous as he was. The car swerved violently and slammed into the guard rail of the road. The auto pilot switched on in the car, trying to correct its swerve. Even so the cars autopilot only caused the car to spin.

Aaron was slammed into the back of the car and violently tossed about the car. The men themselves were not so lucky. The car stopped as the brakes kicked in, letting Aaron fall to the bottom of the car. He pushed through his feeling of dizziness and glimpsed the butt of a pistol. He lunged forwards and jerked the gun from its owners holster. He shot the man in the chest several times and slammed its butt into the eye of the man across from him.

He fired a bullet into the mans forehead, silencing him. The front passenger turned and extended an arm. The driver slapped his arm down.

"Don't kill hi-" The man never finished. Aaron shot him in the back of the head, through the back of his seat cushion. The passenger lifted his arm towards Aaron. He felt the air cut off from his throat. Aaron gasped and pulled the trigger. No bullets fired. Empty. He tossed the pistol at the mans face. It hit the bridge of his nose, causing him to flinch. Aaron lunged forwards and slammed the mans head into the dashboard. He clenched a fist and slammed a fist into the back of the mans skull again and again.

When the man stopped moving Aaron slammed his fist into the back of the mans head a few more times. He wasn't sure if the man was dead. If these men were whom he thought they were, they would not die so easily. At least he thought so. He wouldn't take any chances.

Aaron unlocked the car door and slid out. Cars sped by, their windows tinted. People used their auto pilot function so they could not on the freeway. He pulled the passenger from the front of the car and tossed the man on the pavement. He stomped on the mans throat till he felt something snap.

Aaron stood there breathing hard. His eyes were wide and his chest heaved. He ran his hands through his hair and squatted down on the ground. The adrenaline was still pumping through his veins. He leaned back next to the dead body and looked away. Aaron wretched and vomited to the side. He killed again. This time it seemed it would had been more fluid and natural to kill them.

Chapter Three: Falling Backwards

Aaron waited for a while, catching his breath. It seemed his heart would never stop beating in his chest. Cars passed by lazily. Not one stopped or spotted what was going on. The product of people trying to forget their lives through technology.

After awhile the adrenaline, drained from Aaron's system, leaving him shaky and exhausted.

Eventually a fine sports car pulled over and stopped next to Aaron. The windows were rolled down. Rockeny stepped out and walked around the car and looked over the scene. Three dead men sat slumped in the car and one lay on his stomach. Rockeny stepped on the mans head and crushed it like a rotten melon.

"Nice work. I didn't think you had it in you." The Lycan said with a grim chuckle. He looked over at Aaron's expression of disgust. "He wasn't dead yet. These ones don't like to die." He grabbed Aaron's arm and gentle led him to the car. He opened it and pushed Aaron in gently. "Good thing that W.P.U.S. was still active. The fools didn't know what hit them. In the backseat was a massive wrapped object. One end of it poked out the open window of the car. Aaron assumed it was the Lycans fabled sword.

Aaron had thought Rockeny had tracked him using his nose. Technically speaking the man was more wolf than monster. He chuckled inwardly. Anything to help him forget what he had just done. Rockeny walked to the back trunk of the car and popped the trunk. He pulled something out and tossed something in the car and one into next to the body on the street. They were capsules shaped like grenades. They opened up and a liquid sprayed out. In a matter of seconds the bodies disintegrated.

"Biochemical acid. Otherwise known as the Alchemists Fire. It breaks down organic tissue and trace residues. It is a helpful tool for us." Rockeny said proudly. He pulled punched the gas, and they accelerated off. "Next time do try to be more discreet. There are cameras all over the highway. Dedrick at least helped us by switching them to a loop for us. We have to thank technology for protecting us from mankind."

Aaron did not say anything. He had seen the cars with their tinted windows, pass by like nothing had happened. Had that have been a car accident, unless its alarm, or the owner called for help on their W.P.U.S.. They would die. It was very sad and very stupid.

The cars HUD flickered and Dedrick Crawford's face panned into view. The man did not look happy.

"Rockeny. What is the meaning of this?" He demanded. Dedrick looked over on the screen and frowned. "You have your sword it seems. "I don't suppose you let the three I sent for you live?"

Rockeny shrugged his shoulders.

"I told them to stand down. The pups these days forget their elders. I would have let them live but they decided to make matters worse." Rockeny answered.

"We both know you instigated the situation. That is beside the fact. I thought we had an agreement, that you would not touch that sword again, until called upon it? Also, do you have any idea how difficult it will be to cover this up?" Dedrick shouted.

"Who made that deal?"

"You did Rockeny."

"I do not remember that deal." Rockeny said, feigning ignorance.

"We both know your memory is impeccable. You deliberately broke went against your word." Dedrick retorted.

"I thank you for the compliment. But sadly the deal is lost on me." Rockeny said with a slight smile. "Besides. The situation has called for better protection. A good offense has always been the best defense."

"Spoken like a true Lycan." Dedrick said sighing.

"Again. I say, Thank you for the compliment."

Aaron could only place a hand over his face in embarrassment. Rockeny was like a child that was out of control.

"You had better hope Aaron makes it there in one piece or-"

"You'll have my head Dedrick? We both know that not even the entire Illuminati could stop me. Just be glad I am on your side boy." Rockeny answered in a steely tone. "He will make it there. We will win. I never lose."

"I believe you. I have no other choice but to believe you." Dedrick conceded.

"Good. Remember Dedrick. Trust me. You may not like the means to get there. I will assure you with all that I am, that I will try to make sure the end justifies the means." Rockeny comforted. Dedrick seemed to be calmed by this answer. The Vampire seemed to accept the answer begrudgingly. It seemed there was some sort of hidden meaning behind those words.

"I hope to God ,so Rockeny. It seems the Illuminati is not the only faction on the move now." Dedrick whispered. Aaron looked over at Dedrick as he said this.

"What do you mean?" Aaron asked.

"It seems there are other forces greater than us, beginning to stir. Stay safe Aaron." Dedrick said with a weary sigh. The screen went black. Dedrick had severed the connection before anything more could be said.

"Well that is troubling. At least we wont have anymore trouble from Dedrick." Rockeny muttered. They traveled in silence, returning to the original destination.

---

Kyle sat at his desk looking over a set of documents. A man in a fine suit sat before him, awaiting orders. The documents in Kyle's hands, further infuriated him. He tossed them away from them.

"How are you feeling Mr. Gregory?" Kyle asked. As Kyle spoke the papers that he had tossed, floated in the air and crumpled.

The man, Mr. Gregory was a small man, his skin was perpetually pale and he was bald. The mans only distinctive feature were his gray eyes. It was much like viewing the glazed eyes of the dead.

"I feel refreshed Mr. Delonas. I'm glad you called me." The man said. Out of the corner of his eye he watched as the papers crumpled and spontaneously combusted. In a few seconds ashes fell to the floor. Kyle Delonas was not a man of any emotional displays. Even now Kyle Delonas appeared to be calm and collected. The burning of the papers only hinted at the hell that raged within that man. It was terrifying.

"I hope that I will be equally as entreated as you, Mr. Gregory." Kyle murmured. A pitcher lifted and emptied water into a cup. The cup drifted over and rested in Kyle's hand. Kyle sipped it and made no offer to his guest refreshments. "Four of my minor C-Caliber agents have gone missing without a trace. Only their car was found. It was not a loss for me. They are nothing. It is disconcerting that not a single trace of video feed of what happened could be found. There are cameras every were in this day and age. Please look." The man snapped a finger. A large holographic view flashed into view from his desk. It inversed itself, so that it could be viewed by Mr. Gregory. It showed a series of cars driving by. Nothing more. "Do you see?" Kyle asked.

"What am I supposed to be looking at?" Gregory asked. Another frame appeared within the holographic projection. It showed a museum. It simply exploded.

"Exactly my point. There is no footage of how the car got there. The museum in the town leading from it, shows no video footage of how it exploded. One minute traffic and people pass normally. All of sudden there is a massive explosion. Notice that traffic is erratic for a few seconds, then after it goes back to its orderly fashion, as if nothing had happened?"

The man leaned forward and looked at the videos. Kyle was right. Someone was editing parts of the videos and putting loops on others.

"Yes I see it. Who is doing this?"

"That is what we are trying to discover Mr. Gregory. Whomever did this, left no traces of their entry and departure from the W.S.A.'s database. As far as we know, I and a few skilled others within this organization, are the only ones that can hack the W.S.A.'s mainframe. If this had happened here, we would have known. Taking this into stride I have eliminated several possibilities. Aaron and his mysterious friend are no longer working alone. They are being assisted by another, or others." Kyle waved a hand. The projections disappeared. He seated himself on the edge of his desk.

"What can I do for you then Mr. Delonas?" Mr. Gregory asked.

"So far I have had nothing but failure. Right now I am no longer interested in capturing Aaron and killing him myself. I need information right now. This is the one thing I lack. That is your job ,to fill these gaps Mr. Gregory. I have plotted the areas were the feeds have been looped or edited. In doing so I discovered a road, or at least a direction, that they have traveled. You will follow. You will have one other B-Caliber besides yourself to assist you and three full fledged C-Calibers." Kyle instructed. He pulled a keycard from his pocket. "This will provide the materials you will need. I don't mean to be rude Mr. Gregory. I really do not wish to see your face till you return with Aaron or some useful information. Most likely I will kill you in a very unpleasant fashion."

Mr. Gregory nodded and made his way out of Kyle's office. Mr. Gregory was not like the others. He had more experience. Not only this he was smarter and stronger than the others before him. Kyle Delonas was troubled by something. This something troubled him enough to kill those that failed him. The man trembled as he reached the elevator. It was either win, or run. If he did have to run. He was would never be safe. No matter what he must succeed.

---

Rockeny and Aaron traveled for a long time on the road. Any attempts at a conversation were cut off by the Lycan. Sometimes they would drive for more than a day or two without stopping at a motel or hotel for rest. Rockeny did not seem to ever need to sleep, eat, or relieve himself. Aaron had not seen Rockeny rest for more than five days since his last short nap. Aaron had yet to ever see Rockeny eat or do more than sip water. The more Aaron was around the Lycan, the more and more he found the man was farther and farther away, from being human. During the middle of the fourth day Rockeny simply yawned and said, "I am bored. Let us rest."

Rockeny was the impulsive type. He found them a hotel and placed them in a suite. Aaron rested on the king sized bed. He had happened upon a data pad left for the residents of the suite. He occupied his time reading books online till they lost their interest to him. There was very little factual information that could get past Aaron. Rockeny lounged in another room, laying on a couch.

"Rockeny?" Aaron asked.

"What is it?" The Lycan asked in his usual irritated tone.

"Whenever do you eat or sleep?" Aaron asked, looking at the ceiling.

"On occasion."

"What do you mean?" Aaron asked curiously.

"The older one of us gets the less and more we need to eat and sleep."

"Less and more?"

"Yes. Much like hibernation. The more active we are the more we must feed and sleep. We can also feed great amounts in one sitting and conserve the fluids and DNA as a sort of reserve. As for sleep. We can sleep for a certain time of the year or for a number of years and refresh ourselves to stay awake for months at a time. Elders can go for months without for eating, they must make up for the strain it has placed on their bodies though, by feeding and resting in great amounts. The greater the age, the greater the strain that can be exerted on our physical forms." Rockeny explained.

"How is this scientifically possible?" Aaron asked.

"That. I cannot answer. It just is I suppose."

"What do you mean it just is?" Aaron asked. He tilted his head to the side and frowned.

"Can't everything be explained? I mean with this day and ages technology, can't it readily be studied and explained?"

"The same can still be said for dark matter and Warp technology." Rockeny countered. Aaron had read about these two topics. Dark matter was roughly, invisible small particles, that contain whole other universes and are compressed by the gravity of the universe. The matter emits immense heat. They are nearly undetectable. Still there was really no data on the subject. Craft that traveled there was either destroyed or lost. The single ship that came back bore, strange battle scars. It was usually autopilot that took the craft back to Earth. The crew aboard were either dead or gone. So far there were no "recorded survivors" from venturing into "Dark space".

Warp technology was one of the reasons scientists so avidly investigated the Dark Space phenomena. Near Dark Space, in its outskirts were the Dark matter particles were supposedly less grouped together, they had been able to successfully explore and retrieve various artifacts and alien technology. Tablets and crystals with inscriptions carved into them were found. A few other mechanizations were found. Half formed machines that wiped out entire crews and invaded ships before they were subdued with nuclear firepower. Even then when they finally powered down, they were equipped with a self destruct mechanism. They did salvage one weapon. A single sword.

Through examination, the blade was covered in a mass of small nodes that gave it its rough hewn appearance. These were not as they seemed.

The single sword was encrypted with a DNA matrix. The matrix took over seventeen years to decipher and crack, with the worlds twenty eight smartest minds.

The blade once activated, sliced off the arm of its wielder and sliced down through the floor to its hilt. The sword apparently cut through any material it came in contact with. By activating it and studying the sword it was theorized that the sword vibrated and emitted a charge that created a warp in the fabric of "our" reality. It bent the edge of that warp about it. This edge had the capacity to not cut, but to dematerialize and transport any material known to man, it came into contact with.

In simpler terms. Its edge was finer than any other edge than any ever seen.

"Touché." Aaron answered begrudgingly.