-I mentioned in the first chapter that I would explain the significance of the main character in this chapter, but I didn't get as far along as I would have liked and therefore it will be pushed to the next chapter. I hope you are all enjoying it and make sure to let me know if there's anything you'd like to see happen or change, I love you guys!-

Thrax's p.o.v****

The only thing that succeeded in brightening my mood was seeing all those little, desk-ridden secretaries and rookie Immunity officers flinch back at the sight of a man they'd all mock when my back was turned, the man that Osmosis-god-damned-Jones knocked down to square one. 'That's right,'I thought as I walked, half against my will, across the straight hall surrounded by desks and trembling officers of Hector's finest, 'Ain't so tough when your maker's right in front of ya, are ya?'

Part of me was wondering if this was such a good idea, bein' here and walking right up to a damn Immunity Chief's office. Some part of it had to scream 'trap' at some point, but at the same time something in the dark recesses of my mind wouldn't let me pass up that chance that this might actually be legit. If they were tellin' the truth, they knew something about Pox that I might like to know, take out one of the torns in my side. An' if they were lying? I'd gotten out of worse before.

I heard muffled voices beyond the door, listening in before I opened it up out of instinct, knowing how to look for a crooked situation.

"Are you sure? I mean, I know you know this guy, and yes he might be a valuble asset...but Jones, this is El Muerte Rojo we're talkin' about! He ain't exactly on my Christmas card list."A hispanic woman tried to reason, and I'd be lyin' if I said it didn't put a big smile on my face. Smart girl, she just might make it in this big, cold world we've got here. Just as she finished, I silently opened the door, sliding in unseen as the group all faced the Chief behind the desk, the overweight man with his eyes closed and rubbing his temples like his nerves had seen better days.

And there he was. Osmosis Jones, in all his false glory. Got me by a lucky shot, that damn punk. Took advantage of one damn second and sent me almost into an entire beaker full of alcohol, almost ended all his problems. Too damn bad I was still here, glaring at the back of his head as he stood confidently next to the pill and the small, curvey, hispanic woman dressed in a tight pair of orange jeans and jacket.

I smirked a bit, walking up behind her and leaning down into her oblivious little ear, musing calmly,

"Aww now baby, that one hurt." She jumped, her gasp music to my ears as she spun around and almost fell over the desk, palms digging into the edge as the pill and Osmosis both backed up. I reached my claw forward, freezing the woman in place as her big eyes looked at me, and I had to give her some credit. There was a look of defiance in them, if not clouded by fear and anger. I traced it along her collar bone, imagining the look on Jones's face if I lit it right now, just one little pinprick and she'd be pretty all over the floor.

"Now is that any way to ask a favor, hm?"I asked, smiling at her angrier face, the white-blood cell still frozen stiff.

"Yo Thrax, wanna back up before we do a little repeat of your hand in Frank?"Osmosis demanded, and I glared daggers over as the pill pointed that damn gun right at my claw, as if he had the damn right to ice my little baby on cue. The memory of that painful, stinging cold that almost ruined everything brought back a bad taste in my mouth, and as much as I hated Jones right now I'd hate it even more to be defensless in front of him.

So, with a glare to melt ice caps, I lowered my claw, the woman slowly and bitterly moving around the desk and to the side of the Chief, me and Osmosis never un-locking eyes.

"You know, Thrax, when I heard you were chummin' it up back in Hector, didn't expect to see you here without a pair of cuffs on."Jones mused, trying to be a tough guy when I could take him out in a second, claw or no claw. I fixed my shades and mused, tone dripping with venom,

"How 'bout you tell me why, huh?...Wanna lower that thing, big boy?"I asked, looking over at the pill who still had the gun pointed tensly at my face as I got closer to Osmosis. The pill looked a bit reluctant, but the Chief spoke up for the first time,

"Drixenol, lower that gun right now. Thrax is here on Immunity buisiness, and if any one of you touches him you're suspended indefinitly!" I looked over at the big man, surprised that he'd actually talk to his 'prize officers' like that. Maybe I wasn't the only one who didn't like Jones' cocky attitude. Slowly, Drix lowered the gun from my face, me tossing him a satisfied smile as I turned to the Chief, feeling Jones's eyes on me as I tucked my hands into the pockets of my trench coat, claw twitching anxiously.

"So what's the reason for callin' me down here, huh? I don't do reunions, so you best have a damn good excuse for makin' me see his ugly mug."I nodded towards Jones as I spoke, feeling his tense glare on me and giving less than a shit about it. The Chief continued with his serious cowl, reaching into his desk and pulling out a manilla folder, slamming it down onto the desk and flipping it open. Inside were pictures taken from what I assumed were other blood cells and snitch-germs who'd escaped deceased cites, pale and grey cadavers that, at first, looked like they died from some unnoticable disease...

And then I looked closer, and I couldn't help the smile that curled onto my face. Almost hidden, just in the curve of the upper lip, was one red, crooked line, looking like they got struck with a red lightning bolt with jagged, branching edges. These were bodies I'd done in, poor fools who didn't know the right time to use hygene and cost themselves decades, decades that I took from them.

"Look familiar?"The Chief asked, and I reached my claw up, smoothing back my dreads as I mused,

"Yeah, real work of art huh?" I heard Osmosis growl, saw the pill hold him back out of the corner of my eye.

"Yeah, works of art. But know you, Thrax, what's the point of being an artist if no one knows it was you?" Chief's words snapped me back, and almost immediatly I felt a hot anger boil up inside of me, jaw tight as a bitter wound was re-opened in my pride, eyes smoldering behind the shades as they once again trailed down to the pictures. Beneath each victim was the cause of disease.

Small Pox.

Small-fucking-Pox.

"Those damn morons don't know what the hell they're doin'."I growled, and suddenly, in a fit of pure anger that came on as suddenly as a storm, slammed my left hand down on the desk, making everyone in that room jump. "Small Pox?! You think Small Pox can take down and entire VILLAGE?! You think Small Pox can lift a damn finger without the help from his overpaid, roided-up body guards doing all the damn work for him?! And these 'professionals' think they can diagnose people, huh? No wonder I got away with this all these damn years!"

"Thrax!"Chief shouted, standing suddenly, "Calm down! This is exactly why we wanted you here. You think we'd ever let you anywhere near Immunity as a free criminal if this was a situation we could handle without the expertise of another major virus?" I paused a moment, still hot from my fit but now intent on finally getting the low-down on why the Hector I was in this joint.

Chief seemed to see my pause, and he took it, voice a bit calmer as he explained, gathering up the pictures,

"Pox is known for letting his henchmen do his dirty work, but he's the first virus to ever do this and be successful. No doubt you know it's because he uses some of the strongest, toughest germs ever seen by man and cell, with his expertise and mind controlling the whole operation. He's virtually invincible...virtually . Jones came up with an idea that might just make this whole endeavor possible, to be the first body to finally take down Small Pox."

"What's this gotta do with me, huh?"I asked, getting more and more suspicious by the second. If it was something Jones came up with...

"Small Pox has always been attacked by isolated Immunity fources or solo-viruses. He's never been under a joint attack that, when thought out, he doesn't have near enough protection to fight off. Say he's attacked by Immunity in a large-scale rejection, he'll send out his strongest men to get rid of them. But what if he was also attacked from the inside, from a virus with enough skill to get close to him while a police raid was going down?

"The germs are paid henchmen without any potency. If their boss goes down, they cave faster than a cavity. We've got the Immunity fources...now we just need the skilled virus."

Everyone paused, all eyes on me with suspicion and a tense hope, an actual expectation as I processed exactly what Chief was asking of me. And once I realized what it was, once my mind mulled it all over, I couldn't help it. I let out the strongest burst of laughter I had, resting my hand on the edge of the giant desk that had to support the Chief's massive weight, wrapping the other arm around my stomach as I laughed in their foolish faces.

Help them? They were askin' me to help them! That might be the biggest, richest joke I'd ever heard in my entire damn life.

"What's so funny, huh?"The woman asked, braver now with her anger. I managed to stand up, taking in a deep breath and slicking back my dread, pointing to Osmosis with the claw and saying in a voice that couldn't have been more amused, the entire situation brightening my whole damn day,

"Ain't that rich, Jones? The same Immunity cop that once trashed my rep is askin' me for help cuz he can't handle a virus who can't harm a Horse Fly? Jones, you just made my day."I mused, seeing his eyes narrow and darken in anger. But I couldn't care less, this was too damn rich, and I hated to end it, but I had other things to take care of than play games with a bunch of incompetent officers.

I turned, walking towards the door as Jones snapped,

"Maybe it wasn't such a good idea. Afterall, you let him walk all over you, didn't you?" I paused, claw lighting instantly as I spun and held it dangerously close to his chin, Jones proving how either brave or idiotic he was by not even flinching, just glaring harder and angrier at me as the others tensed, ready to jump to action. I fixed the cop that ruined my life with a stare, thinking over everything he'd done to me and what I could do to him so easily...

"Count your lucky stars, Jones, that you caught me on a good day. Good luck."I spat sarcastically, and whipped back around, un-lighthing the claw and tearing through the membrane of the door, walking out to a stunned and fearful silence from not just that room, but the entire main area as well. I didn't dare think of anything until I was back in the ride I'd taken, sliding into the seat and taking off without a second thought.

Yeah, I wanted to take down Pox. But side and take orders from Jones? I'd rather Pox slit my throat with my own claw than deal a team with any of those morons... I gripped the wheel tighter and angrier, thinkin' about how I could either go back to the hideout with Sneeze and Sniff, or to my pad where I'd take one hell of a break from all this bullshit.

The whole damn day had been crap...

And then her face popped up again. The eternally pale, pure-white virus with the light grey eyes. There was just something about that face I couldn't shake, something strangely captivating about it and making it harder and harder to ignore everytime it popped up. Something in those eyes, that kicked puppy that decided to fight back, but there was something more in them. There was more to that girl than what a person could see on the surface, but wasn't that the case with everyone?

So why was this one so much more interesting? Why was I mulling over this one? The answer at the time wasn't clear, and I tried to shake myself of it, of thinking about a person for more than a few seconds for the first time since I could remember. Later, maybe I'd look back and see all the signs, but as the moment so much was goin' on that I didn't want to deal with shit. I wanted my pad, a bed, and nothin' else for the next 24 hours...

Third Person'sp.o.v****

A jaundice-yellow finger trailed across pale lips, a smile playing on the face of a man who was, at the moment, manipulating the lives of two viruses he was well-accquainted with, one much more than the other. A malichious, excited glint played over a pure-white eye, black barely rimming the iris and allowing for a slitted pupil, only adding to the snake-like effect of the man's lean, sharp face. Oily black hair fell over shoulders and passed shadows over his features, but no darkness was emitted other than that of the corners of the lavish hideout he'd allowed himself.

A decorated chandelier above the man's head shone dimly, taking nothing out of the liquid-blackness of the man's clothing, wearing a black tank-top and jeans with army boots, baring a white circle on his right arm that had been embedded upon every victim he'd agreeably stolen from Thrax. This man was many things, a thief, a braggart, a genius. But he was by no means a liar.

He'd admit to the first person that he'd formed a way to get into medical books as the first virus with a vaccine who was still, mysteriously, killing people. And that way was merely a buisiness strategy, and Thrax got caught up in it. He was meant to be nothing more than a liability, a possible threat that could be taken down easily with three or four of his hired enfourcements. But this...well, he'd have to wonder what exactly Thrax was doing voluntarily following Immunity back to their station.

Unfortunatly, the muscled germ standing, slightly frazzled, in front of him could offer no information as to Thrax's sudden interest in Immunity. So, much to the chagrin and discontent of the infamous Small Pox, his little play toy would have to be watched and yet ignored for the time being. Besides, there was a much more interesting pawn to capture.

A pawn that, Pox had to admit, he was starting to think he'd never run into ever again. Or, more appropriatly, a pawn that wouldn't run into him. It brought a whole new smile to his face, this germ's recount of what had happened just this morning, earning more than a few concerned looks from the men around him. Yes, they felt Pox was a bit off his rocker despite his young age, and yes Pox was well aware of this.

But at the moment he couldn't care less. Because his little beauty was back, his ace that got misplaced after a bad card trick. He could almost hear the screams of that whole family, filling him with a euphoric, light-headed happiness as he recalled the utter destruction of the family who refused to donate their unique talents to his cause. The bravery the mother showed by dying first. The love the brother showed by blocking the door to the father and the gem. The incredible preparedness of the father, who somehow allowed that little girl to escape my grasp.

Yes, they were all dead in the end, the viruses who could insinerate a white-blood cell on contact, who all decided to play the heroes and swear off their instinct nature. Who all decided to refuse him. And now they were all gone...but that didn't matter much. Because they weren't the ones he really wanted, the ones he wanted more than anything. No, that little girl was the real goal.

Even ten years ago, she was the strongest out of her whole family. Some would like to say it was physical strength that put her over, or incredible speed that she later used to evade me, but Pox saw her real skill. It was the fire inside of her that made the potency of her deadly ability so renound. It was a strength, and inner determination to not die, that beautiful survival instinct that made her a 100% guaranteed deal if you ever touched her hands.

Yes, her family had the same, but in her it was so much stronger. She was truly something to behold...and now, ten years later, she back. She had literally fallen into his lap, somewhere in this small boy's body and all he had to do was find her before she took off again. Pox reached a finger from his lips to a picture placed on a pure-glass table in front of him, tracing it over a small, half-burnt family photo. A small, nine-year-old girl looking out with a small, shy smile and pale grey eyes, like clouds after a storm. So innocent. So strong.

"She's quite the runner, isn't she? Ten years, darling...but don't worry. It wont be one day longer before we meet again. Will it boys?"The man eccentuated the last sentence, and a rumble of agreement wafted through the room, along with a growing excitement in the colorless eyes of the vaccined virus who, despite obvious road blocks and a time frame almost comically short, could not erase the smile from his lips.

Because for the first time in ten years, he saw his golden opportunity. Thrax wouldn't have to worry anymore. After Pox caught his little runner, broke that fire inside of her and manipulated it to his own use, he wouldn't need to steal bodies ever again.

"Iris Talia Peoni..."

Iris's p.o.v****

The light was what really woke me, filtering in from a hole in the ceiling that had been covered in a tarp long ago, holes and tears as if it were attacked by an animal covering the fabric that hung like minighosts from the rafters of the broken and sad-looking building, so run-down that no one could tell what it was anymore. I rolled over, body no longer stiff from sleeping on thread-bare matresses strewn in odd places. I lay there for just a moment, and then instantly got up, as if already energized for the day.

I stood for a moment in the center of the empty room, taking in the utter transformation anything took in the daylight. A building could go from unwelcoming and sharp as the teeth in the maw of a monster, to a virtual room of light, the beams invading from every crevasse and hole and falling almost purposefully in the center of the room. It was a beautiful place, and leaving it would almost be saddening. Few bodies had such beautiful wreckage.

It almost lulled a dangerous sense of safety over me, a sense I tried to fight back with reminders of yesterday, of the germs from the alley. But that only served to bring back and unwanted face, a face that caused the late night I'd had just lying on my back and starring up into the darkness of the hole in the ceiling. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't get his face out of my head.

It was ridiculous, and I once again closed my eyes, scowling at myself and thinking that this man was just one of a thousand and more viruses out there, and that he was as bad as all the rest. All the rest except for one, who was infinitly worse. And that thought was one that not only made me shiver, but twisted my gut until I felt like I'd be sick. Not a wonderful way to start the morning. Then again, not an uncommon one.

I decided that now was a better time than ever to traverse the body, that safe feeling telling me that, aside from a few germs, in the daytime not much could happen to me. Moving quickly, jumping from one of the windows and landing a few feet below on another roof that was right up against the building I'd slept in, I played almost a game of hopscotch with roofs and balconys, each more dangerous to land on than the last and a few taking my hands to climb down.

Eventually, I managed my way into a brightly-lit alley that wouldn't be occupied during the daytime by any dangerous germ or virus. So I walked, feeling like a lightbulb in the darkness with the sharp contrast of white on black. I instinctively ducked my head a bit, entering the end of the alley and hearing people, not wanting to attract any attention at all.

"No! Stop! Oh Hector, someone stop my child!"I heard the mother's voice, and froze, everything in front of me stopping as my eyes widened and took everything in a slow frame-by-frame. I'd walked out onto the sidewalk, and right into a moment of life-and-death. The mother's voice was too familiar, the words needing a city name changed, a 'save' instead of 'stop', and they were almost identical to the ones that ripped through my very being at that moment.

My insides hollowed out, and then re-filled with a mindless need to save the child that the red-blood cell mother was shouting at. The child that now paused in the street, no more than two years old, and turned with wide, innocent eyes at the massive Protein Truck that was going too fast to stop. Too fast for the child to move, or anyone to react. Too fast for everything.

Everything but me.

I was off the sidewalk and in the center of the street before a bystander could blink, the child was in my arms before the truck could get within ten feet, and we were diving forward onto the sidewalk within milimeters of the screaming metal side-panels of the truck. I landed hard on my back, having twisted in the air to save the child and now feeling the sting of the pavement, a wet mark on my shoulderblade that I chose to ignore for the moment.

All I cared about was what had just happened. That woman's voice had set off a chain reaction that, the second the ran over and ripped the child from me, not knowing that the ring on her finger had hooked onto my right-hand glove and, as she took the child quickly, pulled it clean off. Not knowing that my heart stopped the second it went flying back into the alley, and I felt the air on my hand for the first time in years.

I gasped silently, stumbling backwards onto my feet as vertigo overtook me, the crash onto the pavement harder than I'd realized in my adrenaline-filled state and shaking my center of balance, making me stumble again as two of everything filled my vision. Hand. That was all I could think of. Had to get the glove. Had to cover my hand. Had to keep it from any white-blood cell near me.

"Oh thank you, you saved my-"The woman's voice caught in her throat as I looked up, disoriented and squinting, five of her dancing in and out of focus as my mind tried to regain any sense of normalcy. Everything was hazy, moving, sickening...

But her next words were crystal clear. As were the shouts of bystanders that followed, of men and the hurried footsteps. As were the first blows that hit me.

"VIRUS!"