NOTE: The beginning of this chapter deals with heavy themes of suicidal thoughts and situations. If such content bothers you, scroll down to the page break in the story and read on from there.

Sleep was not something the Hunter got often.

If it was to annoy the Elders when they wanted him to do something, sure, he'd snore for about as long as he could force himself to. But there was just so many things he could be doing while he was awake.

He figured he didn't have a choice, now.

He'd deigned to sleep in front of his sarcophagus, shirking a bed. He'd slept on worse places than on hard floor, so this was practically a designer bed. Strange thing was, his eyes were open. He wasn't one of those weird open-eye sleepers, he just couldn't move.

All he could do was stare at his sarcophagus. Watch as the world slowed to a crawl, watch as the first crack in it formed and spread, branching off into more splinters, watch as it exploded and drowned him in the psionic backlash, stripping him of his sense of being and thoughts and feelings—

Then suddenly he was on the outskirts of a haven, sitting in a tree, watching a few people go about their lives. Their faces kept shifting, twitching. He could never pick out anyone he recognized, and what was with this pervasive sensation of purple? Was he on a bad trip or something? He looked down at his hands.

They were beige, covered in worn gloves.

Next thing he knew he was knocking around in his Trophy Room. Didn't know what he was doing there, just ogling his various kills. His eyes lazily scanned the room, noting the new alien additions. Sectoids, Berserkers, Mutons... come to think of it, he never remembered mounting this stuff. He'd tried before; the Elders weren't all too happy about it.

Come to think of it, this wasn't his Trophy Room. He was on a ship of some sort, by the looks of it, and he was staring at a wall of mounted heads. Faceless, Archons, hell there was a Gatekeeper strung up from the ceiling. If he didn't know any better, he'd say these looked like XCOM's kills.

He spared a look to his right. Huh. Yeah, that was the Skyranger, all right. Even had some soldiers filing out of it—the same soldiers that he remembered seeing coming into his stronghold. That robot still had its leg shot out and that Ranger was carrying... Clint, was it? He's gonna be out for a long time. Then the medic and the gunner...

The Hunter looked back at the trophy wall, and there was three new additions. From the shoulders up, it was him, the Assassin, and the Warlock, stuffed and mounted, eyes missing.

"Well," he said to himself. "That's pretty morbid."

"Query unclear. I'd answer you, but I have no clue what you just asked."

Back in his Inner Sanctum. His Darklance was strewn out in front of him, disassembled. Right, he was cleaning it out and was going to work on the Darkclaw next. Must've asked the Commander a question to pass the time. What'd he ask? Eh, didn't matter. He could just ask her something else. Something hilarious! He loved how she'd snark back perfectly and joke with him. Made him feel like he actually had someone worth talking to. Oh yeah, there was this one joke he remembered perfectly. She probably did, too. He'd ask that.

"Where do you think you'd be if there were no aliens?"

Wait. That... wasn't what he wanted to ask at all. A few parts of his Darklance were missing.

"Living my life as the tactical head of some nation. I was prized for my ingenuity even before the XCOM Initiative was founded. Honestly, I would settle with whoever was right with me."

Well. Interesting. He tried again.

"You ever think all of this is hopeless?"

No. No, no, no. He realized what was happening now. His Darklance was gone completely, his pistol disassembled in front of him. A sense of foreboding was gripping him.

"Occasionally. I don't think about it much. From what data the Elders provided me, there's at least a nonzero chance that They can save the universe. In Their mind, I suppose that's worth fighting for."

She sounded concerned, which didn't match her words at all. Ref-Il knew what his next question was going to be.

"Have you ever wanted to die?"

His pistol was fully assembled, hovering a few feet off the ground. It was pointed directly at him, even as both of his hands were down. He dully stared it down, challenging it to fire.

"You don't have to do this."

"Commander, you and I both know you're just some database hooked up just how the Elders want you." His eyes were locked on the barrel, his whole body feeling like lead. "I don't think I've ever talked to you for real. I don't think you ever really recall anything. I think an ample solution would be for me to stop thinking entirely."

"There's always another answer that's not staring down the barrel of a gun."

"If you care so much, stop me."

Something happened that wasn't the memory. A flash of light blue. Suddenly the gun was gone and the Hunter was alone again. Sitting in front of a broken sarcophagus. No link to the Network. Just him and his thoughts.

He knew that wasn't how things went. It was him holding that gun, pointing it at himself, half-tempted to ask himself if he felt lucky. The Commander didn't answer after his last statement, either unable to do anything or just pulled away to answer someone else's questions.

He had pulled the trigger, felt a flash of pain, and then was back into the void. The Elders didn't even contact him this time, as busy as they probably were with something more important. All it had gotten him was one bullet less and about a few minute's time loss.

God knows the Elders probably chose to ignore him. They were always on his back at the worst of times, and the one time they could've swooped him and make him feel like maybe, maybe someone cared? Fucking forget about it.

He sighed, leaning forward where he sat. XCOM killing him would've been a mercy. From what his subconscious was trying to piece together, they took him in alive. For interrogation, probably, but as long as they kept him away from those damn pompous pricks, he'd call it paradise. Who knows, maybe he'd find a way to off himself while they weren't looking. Or maybe just force them to kill him. Being unruly and uncooperative was his specialty, it wouldn't take much, surely.

Unless the Commander were there.

The Hunter cursed, rubbing his mouth. Yeah, all of this thinking assumed that the Commander never saw him at all. Things might get a bit more complicated if she actually talked to him even semi-daily. Even if all the talking they had done before XCOM took her back was strictly speaking, with a vegetable, he still felt like she was about the only person he'd connected with. The impressive tactical prowess she had, her capacity to keep up with him in jokes... and the genuine concern she had whenever he started asking "interesting" questions.

"Fuck." He rubs the short, curly, white hair that always got hidden by his hood. It was shaved on one side, and it was a remnant of something the Elders could never take away from his past. "If she remembers any of that, it's gonna be an awkward conversation."

"He's alive."

"Yes."

"On... on your ship."

"Yes." Commander O'Leary tried and failed to suppress a smile as the conversed with Volk. "Yes, the Hunter is alive, on my ship. He's captured."

Volk continued to stare at her dumbly before giving an impressed whistle. "Wow, uh... Commander? It's one thing to kill a Chosen, but it's a whole other woods to take one in alive. You could be a Reaper any day, if you wanted."

Eliza held up her hands, smiling good-naturedly. "Alas, I have a resistance movement to spearhead."

Volk grinned. "Nobody said you couldn't be a Reaper and a Commander."

"Please, it'd ruin relations with all the other factions."

They shared a laugh, calming down, before a thought occurred to Volk. "You've... got him locked up, right?"

"Of course!" The Commander crossed her arms, giving him a disbelieving look. "I go through the trouble to wrangle one of the Elders' kids and you think I'd just leave him on the floor of the barracks?" This was an awfully big show Eliza was putting on, and she knew it.

Behind her confident persona she was chatting up Volk with, there was a considerable amount of worry. It had been a few days, and neither the Hunter nor Clint showed any signs of waking up. In the Hunter's case, that was fine to an extent, but Clint? Not having their greatest psionic operative was bound to make some of the soldiers a little nervous going out into more dangerous situations, but there were others that could hold the mantle well.

The Hunter being out for as long as he had been was a blessing in some rights—the Commander had already structured out plans with the help of Tygan and Lily for a cell that could house him. It took a bit more prodding and hushed whispers, but she had also managed to strongarm them into including two other rooms into the plan.

There was a knock at the opened door to Resistance Communications, and Commander O'Leary spared a look over her shoulder. Speaking of Tygan! She gave him a "one moment" gesture and turned back to Volk. "But yes, I'd say having the Hunter out of your hair will be a big boon, yes?"

"Of course." Volk leaned forward, all smiles. "If you ever get the chance, there's a dinner with your name on it, Eliza."

She raised her eyebrows, noting the use of her first name. "I'll take it under consideration, Volk. Don't worry about the other Chosen—given half the chance, I'll take 'em again." With that, she closed communications, turning to Tygan. "Thanks for knocking, Dr. Tygan. Have some news for me?"

He nodded, gesturing for her to come closer. As he did, he began. "Of course, Commander. I'm also here on behalf of Shen." He brought up the datapad in his hands as she came close, bringing up a visual of the new room. "Construction of the room has progressed to the point where the Hunter's cell is largely complete, complete enough to move him into."

"And the other rooms?"

Tygan nodded. "Work is now beginning, but I would advise us leaving the Warlock's cell until later. It must be built to withstand his incredible psionic power, and I fear we may lack the elerium compounds to do so."

The Commander nodded, thinking over just where she'd get some elerium over the next few weeks. Supplies were good, perhaps she could visit a haven or two. "Focus on the Assassin's cell, then. Anything else for me?"

"Indeed, Commander, we're coming to the reason why I'm here." He swiped a page on the pad to the side, revealing a series of numbers, bars, and text. As Tygan spoke, she read through it. The Hunter's vitals, apparently, though she'd be ashamed to admit that she didn't have much insight as to what it all meant. "The Hunter's state is changing. We noted increased neural activity over the past three hours, and we believe he may be emerging from his state."

"What about Clint?"

He shook his head, looking slightly grave. "No such luck, I'm afraid."

She straightened. "Keep an eye on his status. If the Hunter's about the recover, he's not far behind. Get the Hunter moved to his new cell—"

"Already a step ahead of you, Commander. The Hunter was moved to his cell because of that very reason."

Eliza offered Tygan a grateful smile. "Thank you for your forward thinking."

Tygan adjusted his glasses, nodding. "Of course."

The Commander made to leave, but before she could get out of earshot, Tygan extended a question. "Do you intend to interrogate the Hunter? We have gone through the effort of capturing him alive. As loathe as I am to say it, there was not much purpose otherwise in going through with all of this."

The Commander stops, thinking. Well, interrogation wasn't exactly the right turn of phrase, but... she'd leave the truth of her plans out of things until the time was right. Tygan was technically correct, anyways. "Guess you could say that."

With that, she continued her walk down the hallway. As she walked, her feet went on auto-pilot as her thoughts came to the front. "Interrogations" this and "capturing" that... As perhaps fun it was to joke about, Eliza could only explain her true reasons with one sentence: she was there.

Perhaps she didn't express it well enough. Perhaps it was hard to bring across in the first place—not everyone got spend their time in tanks, or indeed have a... Thin Man jump on you...

She immediately angled her trajectory into the wall, thankful there was no one with her around this bend as her breathing sped up. She couldn't even finish the thought without the memories of twenty years ago coming up like bile. It was bad enough that when Tygan tried to bring her in to look at the chip, she had to have Bradford bring her back a report. The less said about them... removing it from her, the better.

Eliza took in deep breaths. Calm yourself. You're not here to go through a trauma trip. She straightened, beginning to walk again. The Hunter's waiting on you.

She eventually reached her destination, ducking around improvised "under construction" signs until she made her way into the room.

Tygan may have been giving the engineers a little more credit than he should've. Exposed wiring was everywhere and the floor was half-finished, only the high-traffic areas being fully complete. On one side of the room was one squared room closed off by a sliding door, with two other skeleton frameworks to its right. There seemed to be a panel on the left side of the door displaying some info she couldn't catch from her distance, and the other half of the room was basically still bare. At least the engineers were in the room, connecting panelling, blowtorching welds, or up to something the Commander couldn't discern, though they paused to wave at her.

Shen was in the room too, perking up as the Commander entered. She was manipulating a datapad with a stylus, seemingly writing something down. "Heya, Commander. Tygan send you down?"

"Indeed. How're things going in here?"

"Well, Commander, welcome to the Chosen Holding Cells. Working title." She pointed the stylus at the mostly-finished block. "The Hunter's Cell is basically finished, with a few minor touches we can straighten away while he's in there." She pointed a bit more specifically at the panel. "Vitals are on that display, and if you tap the speaker on it, you can transmit voice and video into a panel on the other side. There's a few other options I'm still straightening out the code for, so I'd say don't touch them for now."

"Right. Any other plans for the room?"

"Plenty. I'm looking into total lockdown sequences just in case one of them gets out, as well as defence systems to keep them down."

The Commander looks at her pointedly. "Subduing before killing, I hope."

Lily shrugs, nodding. "I'll keep it in mind. Otherwise, a lot of the tech's just going to be centered around keeping the Chosen in place." She looks at Eliza imploringly. "Anything you want added, Commander?"

The Commander leaned back a bit, thinking. "If they don't have beds already, I want them in the design docs. Even if it's just a raised panel of the floor, I want something. This is less 'design' and more 'decency,' but I don't want anyone terrorizing them in revenge, either. I'll be the one deciding where the axes will fall."

Shen nodded again at the instructions, writing a fews things down on her pad. "Anything else?"

"Think that might be about it. How the Hunter?"

"Awake, actually. And from the looks of it, pretty thrashed. I mean, I suppose I would be too, if a psionic overloaded my brain." Lily then tilted her head at the Commander. "What are you planning to do in there, if you're going in?"

"Hm." She gave the cell a once-over. "According to what I told Tygan, some form of interrogation. How soundproof are those walls?"

Lily shifted in place, eyes darting to the other engineers, who had slowed in their work at the Commander's words. "Shouldn't you, uh... shouldn't you let someone else do that, Commander? With all due respect, of course."

Commander O'Leary gave her a pointed look, refusing to answer. Shen sighed, using the stylus to flip over to another screen on the pad. "With the compounds we used and how thick we made the walls just in case, nothing short of a jet engine taking off in there is gonna make it out—kinda why I had the panel implemented."

Eliza nodded. "Thank you for the forward thinking on that—I appreciate ingenuity." She pointed back towards the door. "How restrained is he in there?"

"He's got handcuffs of the alloy we use in our armor—behind his back, of course—and he's got shackles made of the same stuff." Lily walked over to a nearby stool and picked up a remote, handing it to the Commander. "Here's the remote for it. Central made a special request, actually, hope you don't mind. First button can deliver an electric shock, the dial right here adjusts how strong it is."

Like a dog collar. Involuntarily, she tensed up at the idea. That was something she was never touching. If he—or any of the others—were going to act up, she'd handle it herself. Preferably without inflicting pain. "And the other buttons?"

Shen looked over the Commander, frowning a bit. "Well, this one undoes the locks, this one secures the locks, and this is a panic button."

She nods, taking the remote. "Thank you, Shen. I'll be a bit." Eliza turned, walking up to the door. She entertained maybe telling the Hunter she was coming in through the speaker system, but decided against it, unlocking the door and watching it slide open, stepping inside quickly and letting it shut behind her.

The inside of the cell was well-lit, though not to a blinding degree. There was nothing of real note inside of it other than the light embedded in the ceiling and the panel to her right, which looked a bit more reinforced than the one on the outside.

On the far end of the room, slumped against the wall, was Mordenna. Like Lily said, his hands were behind his back, and shackles were around his ankles, the chain just long enough to let him walk a bit, if he were to get up. His eyes were still a bit unfocused even as they locked on the the Commander, a grin twisting his face.

"Oh, hey Commander." Good god, he sounded groggy out of his mind. Eliza could feel her heartstrings getting pulled even as there was, as always, an undertone of cutting wit to his words. "You wouldn't happen to have any Tylenol on you, would you? Feel like I've been twenty rounds with a Berserker..."

She shook her head, frowning. "Not this time—didn't think of it. If you're still feeling it next time, I'll see what I can get for you."

He groans, resting his head against the wall. "Fantastic. I'm trapped in the land of the Boy Scouts with my hands behind my back and my head feels like I'm getting continuously slugged." The Hunter pauses for a moment, then gives a tired chuckle. "If this is how I feel, I'd hate to see the other guy."

Eliza returned the chuckle. "What, your most recent brawl put you on the losing side for once?"

"Hey." He gives her a pointed look, before his eyes unfocused again. "To be fair, I was certain I'd win this fight... and even if I didn't..." He trailed off. Eliza waited for him to continue but it looked like she wasn't going to get anything more out of that particular train of thought. Half of her wanted to press him about what he meant, but considering the questions he'd asked while she was still in the Network? That'd be something she'd have to ask when he wasn't practically concussed.

Eventually the silence went on long enough that even Mordenna wanted to break it. "Ok, what are we here for, Commander? Torture? Already pulling that off well enough, just standing there and staring at me. Interrogation?" He gave a short laugh. "I'll put it this way; I'd like to see you try. Genuinely, I mean, I'd like to see what you would do to try to weasel information out of me." When she shook her head at that, he hummed in thought. "No interrogation or torture? What, are you just here to crack wise with a handsome devil like me?" He smirked. "Gotta admit, that would be just fine by me."

"I might take you up on that later, hotshot." She grinned. "But, killing you would be pointless after all this." It wasn't something she particularly wanted to do in the first place, anyway. "Also, after we lost a certain scientist, we haven't done interrogations. No, I'm just here to offer you something."

The Commander watched as the Hunter stared at her, confident that even in his current state he could connect the dots. He eventually did, laughter bubbling up as he started to realize, his eyes a bit more focused. "You're trying to get me to defect!"

"Well, would you?"

His laughter quieted down, though his smile remained as he weighed his options. His gaze shifted to his feet as he thought. Eliza could think of a few good pros if he asked; he could continue hunting big game if he wanted, and she was sure the tense survival of being a part of XCOM in the field would be up his alley. Plus, and this was one she shared, any chance to piss off the Elders was a good chance indeed. Maybe it was a little selfish to think that it could sell him alone, but...

She wanted to be able to help who she could from the Elders. If she was able to escape, why shouldn't they? But, the Commander knew what she was up against. The Elders made fantastic promises and even seemed to uphold them at times... but she had been there for every punishment for the Chosen. She had been able to temporarily dip into their feelings as part of the data she could gather whenever the Elders were almost killing them. There wasn't anybody she'd wish that pain on outside of the Elders themselves. If there was some way she could...

"Say I do." The Hunter's words brought her out of her thoughts, grabbing her attention. "I take up your colors, march with your boy scouts, yadda yadda yadda. If you somehow do beat the Elders, what then? What's a hardened killer like me to do when everything is good and happy in the world?"

The Commander thought over that a bit. Truth be told, she was just working to figure out how they could force out the Elders, through bad publicity or otherwise. Everything seemed like such a long shot, and surviving after that? She had plans, but nothing she'd build plans on. "Well... I suppose we'd burn that bridge when we came to it."

That was enough to earn a genuine laugh out of the hunter, doubling over a bit. He recovered quickly, looking more and more awake. "Thanks, I needed that."

"So, your answer?"

He hummed in thought again, then shrugged. "Tell you what. Give me, oh, a day or so to think it over. Don't try to game me—I know what 24 hours feels like even in solitary confinement. When you come back, we'll have another chat, alright?"

"Deal, and I intend on it being a bit longer than this one. Just didn't want to boil you too much while you were coming off the psionic equivalent of horse tranquilizers." She waited for him to stop snickering before she continued. "Suppose that's about it. See you tomorrow, Mordenna."

His smile got more toothy, and it was hard to gauge if it was malicious or playful. "See you tomorrow, Eliza."

Commander O'Leary turned, unlocking the door and walking out, making sure it closed behind her before she gave her attention to the engineers. It looked like Shen had already left, no doubt to work on finishing repairs on SYN. The personnel looked at her expectantly. Might as well tell them the truth, she figured.

"We're going to be having another little talk tomorrow."

Somehow, that did nothing to abate their mildly horrified faces.