The world had opened the Pandora's box of nanotechnology. The secret was out, all of it, the whole damn thing. Biots and nanobots, the Armstrong twins, BZRK. The story broke three days ago. Some fresh-outta-college journalist had stumbled upon a couple of TFDs, and it all spiraled out of control from there.

Of course, if one thing was left out, it was the most important to Noah Cotton.

Who the hell was Lear? More importantly, why had he, she, or they allowed the story to break? Lear had to be behind this. Why else was the mad king's name left out of the story?

Plath, needless to say, was very unhappy when Jin showed them the morning news broadcast. The only word from Lear was a text message, that she got literally the instant before she nearly exploded from pure anger, that said: "Await further instructions".

And now, three days in, they had further instructions.

Lear told them to "lay low" and disperse for the time being. That meant Jin and Anya were watching over Vincent in Central Park, and Wilkes was out at some thrift shop trying to find more of her bizarre style, and that left Plath and Keats stuck with Billy the Kid at the cinema. Billy the Kid could not take a hint, so it was Keats to his left and Plath to his right, with a large popcorn resting in BZRK's newest member's lap. In a way this was safer, since Billy seemed to have an unbelievable streak of getting in trouble. Ever since the hydras, everyone kept a close eye on the kid.

Keats was a little frustrated, though. He did not want to babysit Billy on their 'day off' from BZRK. He wanted to do many, many things with Plath, and none of those things involved Billy.

Plath did have that four star hotel room, after all.

Besides, they all sensed the end nearing. Even in the cinema, people whispered about the earth-shattering news during the previews. It was all coming down to the final showdown, and no one knew how that would end. The Armstrong twins were still in hiding, and the fate of the world rested in a couple of crazed kids' hands.

A couple of crazed kids who had the day off.

"I was right," Plath said. "This is a boy movie."

"It hasn't even started." Keats countered.

"I can tell." She said, checking her phone for the sixth time since they sat down. Plath was not resting easy on her day off. She must have sent twenty texts to Lear in the past few hours. Lear hadn't responded. "What do you wanna do after the movie?"

"We should totally check out those street vender guys," Billy said, although she hadn't been talking to him. The poor kid didn't even know he was the third wheel.

Keats groaned, this was going to be a long, long day. No wonder Jin and Wilkes rushed out this morning; they wanted to dump Billy on them.

Could he really blame them? Was this some BZRK hazing thing? You're new, kids, so deal with Billy and make sure he doesn't almost destroy the world again. Have fun.

"The Avengers" finally got started, and halfway through the movie Plath discovered popcorn at the nano-level. P3 had enhanced imagery, so she walked on brilliant yellow bubbles throughout the movie. To Keats, the nano-popcorn looked like honeycombs, millions and millions of honeycombs.

It was the one place Billy couldn't crash. He had no biots yet. They were partially afraid he'd accidentally kill it.

Down in the meat, Keats wouldn't want Billy as backup. Plath, yes. Wilkes, absolutely. He still didn't fully trust Jin after the wiring incident, but they all had an unspoken agreement that down in the nano, you did everything you could. No matter what grudges. Madness or death, and no one deserved madness. Keats knew this first hand with his brother. Death was better.

"Will you shut your damn phone off?" Someone hissed behind them.

Plath turned around, and Keats saw the fire in her eyes. She was angry about something, and she wasn't telling him. What secret was she keeping? Had Lear told her something?

"Seriously?" Plath said. "You wanna talk? Mr. I-bought-the-loudest-candy available? Shut up and enjoy the stupid movie."

All things considered, the guy got off easy. The real Plath stuck her head in a gas oven. A harsh retort was low on the scale of possible reactions a ticked off Sadie could unleash.

The man with the Skittles shrunk back in his seat, and Plath periodically checked her phone, and when the credits rolled she bolted out of the theater. Keats and Billy had to push through the leaving crowd to catch up with her, and she was already on the street, wildly looking in a million different directions. She cursed and threw her phone on the ground.

"What's wrong!" He asked.

She was shaking her head, like she was coming to terms with something awful. Keats felt like he'd been punched in the gut just by looking at her, at the pain in her eyes.

"Stern. They fucking have Stern!"

"Who has who?" Billy asked, but Keats didn't need to hear her answer.

The end, it seemed, had begun.