Another story. Another OC. Another completely unoriginal and ridiculous idea. Same exact day. Yay.

Hey-o. I'm back. This time, it's the "what if Davenport considered the possibility of the three bionics not being able to go on missions for a certain amount of time?" concept. This is another short prologue in third-person pov, but (spoiler alert) the rest of the story is from my OC Hannah's pov. I liked writing this story too, and it's fairly long. It's pretty fluffy as well but has angst, adventure, and a bit of a darker tone, in my opinion.

I keep forgetting to leave tags and when things are set and all that. Sorry 'bout that. The prologue is set before the series, when there was only the three of them and Mr. Davenport. I'll try to leave tags in each chapter (like I'm supposed to do). Anyway, I hope you enjoy. I really liked writing these guys as little kids.

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"Who is that?"

"She looks…normal."

"Hey, she's as short as Chase."

"Adam!"

Three kids, two boys and one girl, stood at the entrance to an underground lab. The oldest boy received a punch in the arm from the youngest boy. The girl sighed and quickly broke up the fight before it happened. A middle-aged man had walked in from an elevator with a young girl holding his hand. The girl looked at them curiously, staring almost unnervingly. It felt to them like she was trying to reach into their souls with her dark eyes and pull everything out so she could calculate it.

"Everyone," the man addressed the three children, "this is Hannah. She's not going to be staying here, but you should get to know her well. You will see her often, and she's a very important person to know. She's going to be trained at one of my facilities with some of the simulators that let her know what it feels like to have bionics. If any of you get hurt or something, she'll be there as a replacement, but that won't be for a while. She doesn't actually have bionics yet just in case."

"So, she'll be our replacement? That's reassuring," Bree, the middle child, muttered.

"A Plan B? Smart move, Mr. Davenport," the youngest, Chase, told the man.

"What does reassuring mean?" Adam asked. Despite being the oldest, he wasn't the smartest.

"Why doesn't she talk?" Chase questioned.

Hannah stood there, her arms crossed over her chest. She smirked at Chase, who almost flinched from her penetrating gaze. "Because I'm not supposed to. Making small talk isn't part of my job."

"She's already being trained and studied by top-notch scientists and personal trainers," Mr. Davenport said as a way of explanation. "All her data is being sent to me personally so I can monitor her progress."

"You make it sound like she's some kind of test experiment, like a guinea pig or a lab rat," Bree said.

"Well, she kinda is."

"But she's also a human being," Chase pointed out, joining in.

"Well…yeah, but she's being trained differently than you guys."

"You mean you're trying to make her an emotionless robot?" Bree crossed her arms.

"No, I would never do something like that!" Donald Davenport said hurriedly. "But I know someone who would…" He muttered the last part to himself.

"So, what are you trying to make her?" Chase copied his big sister.

Adam just stood there silently, his head moving back and forth like he was watching a table tennis match. He had no idea what they were talking about. Hannah watched them with her eyes, her face a complete blank as they discussed her possible future.

"I don't know!" Donald exclaimed, exasperated. Sometimes, his kids were a little too smart. "She's still going to be human when she gets out; she's just not going to be the same as you guys. Now, I need to take her back. You'll see her again." He took Hannah's hand again, and they went up the elevator, to the place Adam, Bree, and Chase never went.

Donald was right. The three would see Hannah again, several times. But she changed each time. She became more and more like the "emotionless robot" all four of them dreaded as she slowly succumbed to the training and experiments and tests. And each time they saw her, all of them were silently hoping that some part of the human being she could have been was still there, buried deep down inside. But not deep enough that it couldn't be retrieved.