Disclaimer: I'm sure this goes without saying, but the canon characters of Claymore are not mine. Additionally, Christopher the Unconquerable and Raki as a Warlock are the property of RagnellAlondite and Kraven Ergeist, respectively. Other non-canon characters and events are mine. I would appreciate R&Rs as well, since knowing that somebody is bothering to read my stories is a good inclination to continue to publish them publicly.

In addition to the threats already posed by the Abyssal Ones, as well as all the other Awakened males not yet accounted for, there were now rumors travelling of two male half-yomas among the renegades led by Miria. One of these had been for the longest time the Organization's Number 0, Christopher. There was very little information regarding the other, but it was believed that he could rival Christopher's power. These rumors were very unsettling to the Organization, and the Elders began to believe that their only solution to this problem was the unthinkable: the production of male warriors to once again accompany their constantly fluctuating female army. Naturally, these would have to be much more carefully maintained than their predecessors of either gender, but recent breakthroughs in research concerning the behavior patterns of their warriors as related to their human lives brought with them a glimmer of hope. It seemed that the majority of their traits as a human remained with them as a half-yoma, and there was a chance that these same traits affected their Awakened state. One could come to the conclusion that if a man was disciplined and obedient enough before his transformation, then he could still be reasonably assumed to be controllable after it. With that thought becoming the general consensus in the Elders' minds, they had sent out their top women to scout for potential additions to the ranks, though they were careful not to fully disclose to them what purpose these men were intended to serve. Numbers 1, 2, and now 3, or Alicia, Beth, and Rafaela, respectively, had each brought back one promising young man. Now, representatives of the Organization's upper echelons watched as each of these sparred against one girl who had just finished her transformation. The males were still human…

"This isn't even a fight," Magdalene, a new 32, complained as she pummeled her opponent Ryan mercilessly. He had kept up with her as she elevated through the first five percent of her power, an impressive feat for a human as it was, but he was already beginning to tire at six. And by the time she reached seven percent, he could barely lift his sword to block her strikes. Maggie was an aggressive woman and rather than let up when she felt him wear out, she spent the remainder of the designated time literally kicking him around and trying to watch the other two matches. It seemed both of the other males were faring better than hers, which only made her angrier and more ruthless in her assault on her opponent. "Come on, you pussy! You're supposed to be a legendary warrior! Do something!"

"I haven't been transformed yet, you crazy amazon!" he said in between gasps for air, which she kept kicking back out of him, "I don't have the strength and reserves of energy to keep up with you."

"Your skills are impressive. I can't believe you can still almost match my movements," Nadia said as she traded strikes and parries with her opponent. Michael had driven the new 27 to 10% of her power, and even though they both knew he was doomed to lose the five minute long bout, she continued to encourage him in his efforts.

"Stop patronizing me, bitch! Your condescending attitude is just pissing me off!" Well, maybe he wasn't as naturally submissive as he should have been, but if he proved himself, the organization would transform him anyway. After all, they were two-thirds of their way through a high intensity match, and he had just broken a sweat.

"You're mocking me, aren't you!? That's what that look in your eyes means, right?" Janelle was getting angrier every passing second. "Well, I'll show you who the stronger warrior is!" Her eyes had already been gold for the past minute, and now her skin turned blue and her fangs lengthened as she released more of her power. "Take this!"

The new 30 struck at Cael with far more strength and speed than she had so far –she had to be at least at 17 percent by now- and with, ironically enough, far less effect than any of her previous attacks. She was beating her head against a brick wall trying to force her way past his defenses. And he still didn't even seem to be moving all that fast. Every time their blades met, his was angled so that her momentum carried her past their center of combat as the two slabs of steel slid against each other rather than striking directly. He rotated his blade so it was on top of hers as she travelled past him yet again, then shoved it down forcefully while at the same time pushing against her back with his free hand and catching one of her ankles with his foot. The tip of her sword embedded itself into the ground, and then the blade bent and snapped in half as it failed to slow her superhuman speed and strength enough to retain its shape. The half she was still holding skidded out in front of her and to her left as she fell. It didn't stop her face from hitting the ground. Cael still said nothing; he only tapped the center of the back of her breastplate with the tip of his own sword while she burst into tears and reverted to human form. In the face of his extraordinary skill, all her speed and power ultimately meant nothing.

"Time!" A seemingly disembodied voice rang through the sparring chamber. The contestants still standing all sheathed their blades, and then looked at each other before returning their attention to their opponents. "Males, you are to go prepare yourselves for the procedure, in whatever way you feel is appropriate. Numbers 27 and 34, you are to report to the anteroom for your pending assignments as soon as conceivably possible. Number 30, clean yourself and go to bed. A new sword will have been prepared for you by morning." The voice's orders were punctuated by the echoing footsteps of their superiors leaving the chamber. They had seen enough, and were no longer interested in what transpired among their products.

At this point, Cael stooped to help Janelle, who was still lying face down, to her feet. But by the time his hand reached her arm, she wasn't there. Moving his gaze to his front but still on the ground, he saw her feet. So he straightened himself into his more dignified natural stance and looked down to her. The sound of her palm and the inner sides of her fingers striking the side of his face echoed in the now silent chamber. She had hit him so hard that he bit his cheek, and blood flew out of his mouth as his face snapped to one side with the force.

As the sound of her slap faded, silence once again took reign. No one knew what to say (Ryan, having just barely recovered from his beating, didn't even know what was going on). Janelle was more surprised by the slap than Cael was, mostly because she half expected him to catch it and shoo her away dismissively, as he had done with her every sword strike. But he didn't, and he also didn't make a snappy remark regarding whether or not hitting him made her feel better. One key aspect of the males' personalities, that only the top three Witches and the leaders of the Organization knew about, was the fact that they ultimately and unfailingly deferred authority to the women they were working with. This aspect was one of those the Organization had the recruiters ensure was the case, as they believed that this would mitigate any risk of yet another Abyssal One being produced.