It's been a few months, to her, years since she's been a captive, but it didn't feel like she was one. Nilin's body laid still like a corpse and face as if she was sleeping soundly with pleasant dreams. IV units were connected to her right arm pumping nutrients into her blood while she was dormant. Among her own capsule, seven others were, three empty, and three with still bodies. These were the most successful experiments of Dr. Ziggurat, and he couldn't be more proud. He'll prowl the room eyeing every one of them. He'd focus the majority of his attention on Ryuga, his bio-signature screen showing much promise even after having his body forced fed energy and power, a living specimen of science as he would say. Second one with equal progression would be Reiji Mizuchi, afterwards would be Nilin, then Tetsuya. They'll walk out under his and Selen Gracy's control, half alive with half a mind, and they're goal would be to hunt down the other three and to become a catalyst for a new, perfect world.
The day wasn't important, but he knew winter was coming. He was used to the weather in Manhattan, New York than he was in Japan, and hated being out. Thirty-two year old Dr. Ziggurat was an exceptional psychologist and neuroscientist, but quit before the Beyblade World Championships several years prior to his previous ownership of Hades Inc, and newfound affiliation to the experimentation of Xercia. He believes that with science, he can fully reveal a person's powers through a system he called Arrangement that has been progressed and upgrade fully over time. He became more solemn over time, wanting little to do with the outside world and only concentrating on retrieving the remaining three Cardinal Beybladers, and taking full care of the ones already placed before him. Many often wondered if he'd go mad being in that lab so often, and taking little interest in even speaking to others around him with the exception of Madame. Often, others would associate him to being a hermit, anyone else would consider the man silently insane.
"Day five," He mutters, jotting down various notes on a sheet of paper clipped tightly to a clipboard. "Subjects are at normal levels of biochemistry, blood pressure, oxygen stability. No changes..." He taps the pencil on his lips before placing it within his pocket and sitting in the chair nearby Nilin. Like the other Bladers undergoing similar treatment, her Beyblade Mortifera's Raven, was clasped between her fingers over her chest. It rose and fell gently with every breath taken. A young woman with dark hair and artificially coloured pale fuchsia eyes, called Trisha by her co-workers, comes in to check on Dr. Ziggurat's personal health, sent by Madame Gracy herself. She excuses herself before entering the chamber he considered personal to him, and removes a syringe from her labcoat pocket to draw his blood. Usually, he'd argue that he didn't need to be checked or medicated, but today seemed different as he absentmindedly stared at the quiescent girl.
"Doctor, your pills." She interrupted the silence saying, "Are you all right?"
"Could be better. I feel like devising a way to shorten the length of the Arrangement, so they could be released sooner with the same or even greater results." He marveled at the idea of witnessing his work at a quicker rate, his imagination running wild with other ideas.
"I don't think that will be a good idea, sir. How long has it been since you've slept? Eaten?" Trisha asks. She pushes the pills into his hand and watches as he swallows them dry.
"I...I'm not sure. I ate yesterday evening, and slept at some point. I'm not sure, but does that really matter? Look at them, they're like children. Anomalies cleared and illnesses gone. I recall the fondness Nilin had for the colour purple and gave her Alexandria's Genesis, natural violet eyes." He laughs, "And Reiji's posture has been improved, Tetsuya's brain damage, Ryuga's injuries. I've finally done it..."
"You're mad, Doctor. Perhaps, it is you that needs Rearranging." She leaves him alone to ponder her statement. He considered it somewhat, asking himself what made him imperfect? He thought of his original making of Twisted Tempo, the losses of Hade's City, Inc, and Academy. Even the death of his daughter, Kezia from the explosion. Everything he'd worked so hard for took away what he really loved the most, and even with that he continues on, refusing to ever go back to the room where her little body laid. His goals were to create the perfect energy system which had powered his greatest creation; Spiral Force. However, many things have changed, his aspiration to be one to rebuke natural laws and bend it anyway he wanted. If it was to take control along side a woman whom was once a poor girl on the streets that craved power and perfection, or to stay a lowly scientist that tried to resurrect what was all ready dead and gone, he'd be it, and nothing would stop it.
The alarms blared loudly throughout the Citadel as Ginga Hagane struggled to pry open the large metal door that led to his escape. Soldiers scattered around as they searched for the redhead supposed to be Arranged at 18:00. He squeezes under the tight space and bolts behind a set of capsules that were to be destroyed. As the footsteps passed by, he relaxed slightly but careful not to let his guard down. Now a fully grown adult a the age of twenty-five, he's definitely getting much more than he bargained for because of acting hostile toward the Madame during her speech to the general public. He'd always sided with what he'd believed in, and her appearance made little to no reason to stop then, but getting jailed and already was listed as a wanted man among the corporation wasn't to be expected. He adjusts the sleeves of his clothes high enough to not interfere with his hands and feels for the piercings on his ears and lips hoping they weren't removed during the time he was tranquilized and incarcerated. Surely, he father would be disappointed in such an act of stupidity, but amazed he managed to escape alive. Now all he had to do was to mentally map out an area of the location and find a way out somehow.
"Hagane? Ginga Hagane I know you're in here, come out now. I won't hurt you." Madoka Amano, age twenty-three runs into the corridor saying. She knew she'd be the only one to coax him out of hiding, and hopefully out of the facility. "Please come out, I want to help." He hesitates to move from the corner before emerging out to face her. The straps on his prison wear hung loosely from the belts, and blood from a wound beneath his bangs dripped slowly down his cheek. Madoka resisted the urge to form a bond with him like she did with other prisoners, and pointed towards the eastern corridor leading to the exit. "You have to go through there, out past the maintenance and climb the ladder toward the surface. Be careful of the cameras and the droids. If they see you, you won't make it out alive."
"How do I know your not just leading me to them?"
"We were once friends, remember. I work for them, but I think for myself." Calls from the opposite end echoed throughout. "Get going, now."
"You didn't have to do this..." He whispers before running away. She glances at the guards that gathered behind her.
"I assume you haven't seen an escapee, Ms. Amano?"
"I'll let you know if I do. Now, I have business to attend onto. Ready the next set of capsules for Arrangement, I want the prisoners Arranged and back into their cells immediately. Let him go for now, nobody really leaves The Citadel."
Damian Hart wished he'd died during that explosion years ago. Now, he's trying to get by as an engineer for the company that produced the capsules used in Xercia's experimentations. Outside, rain battered against the windows of his apartment as he wrote page of notes in a small journal. His hair was a darker shade of blue, and eyes constantly looking exhausted from his insomnia. He was now twenty-six years old, married to a young woman, Elisabeth, that sympathized him enough to not divorce the male. He was to become a father soon, expecting a son, and it made him happy amongst the depression he felt every time he had to wake up and remember what he was put through.
Everyday his coworker, Herschel, would converse with him often while they lifted and screwed together every bolt, glass, and monitor for processing. He'd go on about how he'd miss Beyblading, his Duo Ice-Titan. He'd forgotten of the main reason he chose to Beyblade. In the end, it wasn't like he cared anyway. Earlier, he had a new set of news to pass around about the people he used to run with in the past. Cycnus was their current subject at the moment, being that Herschel overheard his friend was arrested a few days ago and was being Arranged. Damian recalled the creepy appearance of the male's black eyes, the white around them close to being nonexistent. From what he knew of Xercia's actions taken against anyone placed in The Citadel, those ridiculous eyes would be fixed to look human at least, changed to any colour of his or the scientist dealing with operation's choice. He felt the need to interrupt the male's babbling to ask of anyone else he may have come in contact with anyone else. Herschel shrugs and explains he'd only seen Johannes in the last few days often sharing one-second glances around the community colleges before he disappeared behind the doors. It was assumed that he'd let go of all misdoings and took on a better life starting with education and going into the field of Genetics. He no longer liked cats, and considered them to be detrimental to his mental health after years of psychotherapy, but he became much more duller and strangely sociopathic.
"They'll get ahold of him soon enough, if not us." Damian said. He cringed as a wrench hits the floor with a loud clang.
"Not me, Hart. I don't intend on going through their doors anytime, any day. They'll have to kill me before taking my free will away again."
Footsteps were heard coming toward them, and pausing at the second flight, "Don't be so surprised. They'll pick us all at random, and shove us inside the little glass coffins we'd slave over to make for a measly five-hundred dollars a month. It's barely enough to support one person, let alone a whole family such as yourself, Damian."
"Go away Gasur." Herschel groaned almost painfully having to listen to Gasur come along and annoy them.
"I was just checking on you two, I don't like coming down to this level anyway so don't think I'm hear just because I want the company. Mr. Tate just wanted to know what the hell was taking you so long."
Damian scoffed at the thought his Boss was always getting on their case while other's would sit around and waste several packs of cigarettes talking and not working. At least he tried to talk and work at the same time. He hated the male more than he hated his life wondering how it came it working under Christopher Tate, who once was known as the Blader of winter and holder of Phantom Orion? Yes, how it came to that, was an excellent question.
"Damian, are you coming to bed soon?" Elisabeth asks through the slit of the door, opening it fully and holding a candle with a picture of pasted to the front and a prayer on the back. She sets the glass item on the desk and places a comforting hand on his shoulder.
"Yes, I am."
"I'm sorry for what I said earlier, Doctor. I've brought you something to drink, it's chamomile, and I added sugar like you always wanted." Trisha held the plate and cup still and walked toward him still hunched over the capsules, this time, over Ryuga's.
"Set it down on the desk, I'll drink it later. Tell me, Ms. Grayson, how do you figure the alteration of psychosis?"
"By way of the system or regular means?" She questions.
"Can it be cured is the real question, in a case such as this one?"
She played along to his questions, giving him answers he wanted to hear. Trisha gave it some thought and replayed what she knew about Ryuga's case. His power obsession, bouts of anger, and eventually the process in which he was subjected to means of what may have been schizophrenia. However, studies proved he didn't possess the mental disorder to begin with. "Yes, it can. You did invent the system, Doctor." She replies confidently.
"And will it bring back the dead if it could bring back a broken child such as him?"
"We are trying to enhance their abilities to fulfill a purpose; to bring back what was lost is a mystery I cannot grasp onto. I am not even sure we've progressed to that level of medical science."
"Is that a yes or a no?"
"I'm not sure, sir." Trisha fell silent. "What do you propose?"
Dr. Ziggurat gets up to retrieve the cup of tea, and takes a sip of the warm liquid. It slid through him easily, warming his insides, "Nothing at the moment, be on your way." Trisha's heels clicked as she retreated to the doorway, suddenly pausing at the sound of his voice saying, "Thank you for the tea."
"Shit, I can't lift it..." The door fails to move regardless of Ginga using his full strength to lift it. He needed a few more inches off the ground to get his body beneath it like the first door. He only had so long to linger within the confined space before a droid caught his movements. His arms grew tired, and he slid to the floor thinking. "No use, won't budge an inch. They're gonna kill me..." The droid hovered past him, pausing for a few seconds to maneuver visualizer around the area, centimeters from the tips of Ginga's shoes, and continued on its way. He couldn't keep this up and he had little options. The door just needed a little more to it, so he can get under. At the moment, he hated how much his body matured in size. If he was as small as he was before, he could make it underneath the door with little issue. Suddenly, the sound of metal hitting the ground was heard, titanium on titanium. The door opens itself and revealed the exit to him. He didn't worry if it was a trap, and hurried out toward his escape that led outside lit up by the moon and drenched by the rain. He breathed deeply, missing the feeling of inhaling pure oxygen and not the artificial, filtered air of the Citadel. He was free.