Just less than a month and a half after the night of the opera, Shilo stood on the shore, looking across the channel to where Sanatarium Island stood. While the ruin that had once surrounded the city had been undergoing repairs lately, the city looked the same to her as it had the night she'd taken one last look at it before walking away: dark, and dismal, and terrifying.

She didn't want to be there. She had thought she would never be there again, that her last glimpse of the place would be the last she would ever have. She wanted nothing more than to turn around and flee the very sight of it.

But people were dying, and her wish was no one's command; somehow, again, she had ended up in the middle of things, and walking away wasn't an option.

She sighed and stepped forward.

What happened next happened so fast that she had no time to react. Someone grabbed her from behind - a gloved hand went over her mouth - she felt something pierce her shoulder - and then…everything went black.

~X~

Slowly, Shilo opened her eyes. Her vision was blurry; she could only make out a few indistinct shapes. She blinked to clear her sight, realizing as she did so that she was lying on the ground.

A few Repo-men came into focus.

She gasped in fear and tried to back away and sit up at the same time.

"Shh…don't be afraid," one of them said soothingly, crouching down to her eye level and holding out a hand to her in a calming gesture. "We won't hurt you."

"You won't hurt me?" Shilo repeated incredulously, trying not to scream with terror. "Is that what you tell all of them?"

There was the sound of a few men chuckling, and Shilo looked around to see an entire crowd of Repo-men standing in front of her.

"No," said the Repo-man who had spoken, "we always make sure our prey know they're going to die…but you are not our prey." He put his hands on his Repo-man helmet and lifted it off his head.

The face that was revealed was mostly unremarkable. In fact, for the most part, the Repo-man looked like any ordinary guy. His skin was unblemished, his face was clean-shaven, and his hair - which had clearly once been black - was streaked gray and white with the beginnings of age; he looked like he might be a little younger than Shilo's father had been. His eyes, however, were another story. They were a dark gray, sharp as the blade of a scalpel, and chilling as frozen steel. They were almost the eyes of a newly-dead corpse - cold and empty and devoid of any warmth or feeling.

Shilo had never met this man, but she had seen his face before, once, when it had been proclaiming a message to the world.

"You're Jack Manson," she said. It wasn't a question.

He nodded, handing his Repo-man helmet to one of the others who were standing beside him. "I am," he said; "and you're Shilo Wallace."

She nodded.

He stood up and held out his hand to her. She met his eyes coldly and stood on her own, without accepting his help.

He inclined his head in acknowledgement of her show of distrust.

"How did you know who I was?" Shilo asked the head of the Repo-men as she brushed herself off.

"My men have been keeping an eye on you," Jack replied.

"You've been following me," Shilo half-asked, still keeping her tone guarded.

"Not with the intent to harm you," Jack admitted, "but yes."

There was silence for a minute. Shilo met Jack Manson's gaze without flinching, refusing to show him any fear.

At last, he sighed. "The last time I saw you in person, you were only a few days old," he said, almost wistfully. "It's amazing how far we've come. Who would have thought we would ever get here, that it would come to this?"

As he spoke, Shilo thought she saw something stir behind his eyes, but she couldn't be sure.

She said nothing.

"Welcome to our home base," Jack went on after a moment. "Thank you for coming."

"You kidnapped me," Shilo stated flatly.

Jack sighed again. "Would you have come if we had asked you nicely?" he asked her.

"No," Shilo admitted, still careful not to let down her guard.

Jack nodded. "I was thanking you for returning home, not for coming to see us personally," he told her. "I was thanking you for acknowledging the present…unfortunate circumstances."

Shilo said nothing.

"You do know why you're here, yes?" Jack asked her. "The people of the world have turned to you for guidance in the present war. Her Royal Highness summoned you so that she could speak her piece; I brought you here so that I could speak mine." When he said the words 'Her Royal Highness', a spark of disdain ignited in his eyes, and his cold voice became laced with sarcasm.

Shilo still said nothing.

"I apologize for the underhanded means I used to bring you here," Jack went on. "I'm afraid I couldn't risk letting you know exactly where it is we are. Not that I don't want to be able to trust you," he added with what looked like a twisted attempt at a smile that didn't at all reach his eyes, "but if you knew, you would have a moral obligation to reveal our hiding place, and if Miss Sweet finds us, well, that would be that…so I relieved you of that dilemma."

"Gee, thanks," Shilo said sarcastically. "I appreciate it."

Jack sighed again. "Shilo, I do not expect you to pity us," he said, "but we did not choose this life. We did not want this; it was forced upon us, and we would leave it all behind if we could."

Some movement in the crowd caught Shilo's eye, and she noticed some of the Repo-men making small nods and gestures of agreement. She was still careful not to let her guard down, but she couldn't help but feel a tiny stirring of compassion for them in her heart; clearly, they really didn't want to be where they were…and if there was anyone who knew a thing or two about what it felt like to be trapped, it was her.

"You said you know me," Shilo finally said, turning her gaze back to the group's leader.

"Well, to say that I know you would be more than a bit of a stretch, but I have met you in person before, yes," Jack replied.

Shilo opened her mouth to ask how that could be, but he beat her to it.

"Shilo, I knew your father," he told her. He sighed, turning his gaze to the ground, then added, "In fact, I was…his mentor."

"You taught him how to kill people," Shilo said coldly; it was far from a question.

Jack nodded, meeting her eyes again. "Yes," he confessed; "I trained your father, just as Rotti trained me."

Shilo didn't want to hear this. She didn't want to hear about her father's lies, about what he'd really been doing when he told her he'd been helping people…

"Shilo…" Jack Manson took a step towards her. Then, before Shilo could even take a step back, he got down on his knees, reached out with both of his hands, and took both of hers in a gentle grip. "I don't expect you to join us for our sake," he told her, looking up into her eyes. "I just ask that you please hear what I have to tell you."

Shilo looked uncertainly from him to the assembly of like-uniformed men. "Do I have a choice?" she asked.

"Of course you do, Shilo," Jack said, and his voice, which had been cold and flat like a blade of ice, softened with remorse and humanity. Likewise, the frozen steeliness of his eyes gave way to a soft, pleading honesty. "If you will not hear me, I will take you back home right now, unharmed," he told her. "You will not come to any harm by our hands or our blades, no matter what happens; you have my word."

Shilo glanced around uncomfortably, unsure whether or not she should trust him. He himself had declared himself and his people to be monsters, yet here he was, on his knees, begging her with the desperation of a human being who was simply lost and alone.

"Please, Shilo," he pleaded softly.

Shilo took a deep, shaking breath, then nodded. "Okay," she said, looking down to meet his eyes.

The gratitude she saw there was very, very real. "Thank you, Shilo," he said.

She nodded again, but said nothing.

Jack took a breath.

"I'm not sure how much you know," he told her, "but I do know that Rotti gave you less than half the facts, so if I tell you something you already know, please bear with me."

She nodded again.

"Your mother, Marni, once dated Rotti Largo," Jack began. "They were even engaged to be married at one point. Why that was, I do not know; I imagine Rotti worked hard to put on a good appearance for her." He shook his head slightly in disgust. "At any rate, her relationship with Rotti ended when she met your father. She left Rotti for Nathan on the spot, and nothing Rotti said or did could convince her to return to him." He gave Shilo a twisted half-smile. "She didn't care that he ruled the world, or that he saved mankind," he told Shilo; "she didn't want Rotti's money, or his power. What mattered to her was the one thing Rotti Largo couldn't give her: love…and Shilo, your parents were very deeply in love." He paused, sighing.

Shilo remained silent.

"Your parents' marriage was a happy one, from what I heard from your father," Jack continued, "and when your mother became pregnant with you, I'm told they were both overjoyed. It seemed as though you would be a happy family…but, late in her pregnancy, your mother became deathly ill." Here, Jack paused again to look deeply into Shilo's eyes, and Shilo could see nothing but honesty there. "At the time, your father was a doctor, and a good man," Jack told her. "He was a brilliant man; I hold nothing but the highest regard for who he was. When your mother fell ill, he tried to develop a cure that would save her, and he told me, more than once, how he worked very, very hard on it, day and night, for he loved his wife deeply."

Shilo still didn't say anything, but Jack must have felt it as her hands started to tremble. This wasn't at all what she had expected to hear.

"No one knows what went wrong," Jack continued; "or, if they do, they aren't telling. Somewhere along the line, however, your father…made a mistake." He sighed. "The medicine that he gave your mother, instead of saving her, killed her all the faster. In desperation, he had to cut you out of her as she lay there dying, in order to save you; there was nothing that could be done for her."

Shilo tried to swallow past the painful lump that was forming in her throat, fighting back tears; this was not at all how she had thought things had happened…

"Shilo, your mother's death was an accident, and a well-intended one at that," Jack told her softly. "No sooner did your father save you, however, than Rotti appeared. It was almost as though he had known what would happen - as if he had been waiting for disaster to strike. It was an accident, but when Rotti said murder…" He shook his head disgustedly. "Well, no one ever questioned the word of Rotti Largo," he said, and the icy blades of his eyes froze up again. His grip on Shilo's hands tightened, almost painfully, and he seemed like he was fighting back a powerful impulse, though to do what, Shilo didn't dare imagine.

She let him take a moment to calm down. When he spoke again, however, his tone was once more cold and flat, and his eyes, likewise, were once again lifeless; the humanity Shilo had seen stirring inside of Jack Manson had vanished, just like that.

"Rotti then blackmailed your father," Jack continued darkly. "He threatened to send your father to jail, even to have him put to death, for the murder of your mother, and thereby leave you alone or worse, unless…"

"Unless my father became the Repo-man," Shilo finished softly.

Jack nodded. "Your father joined us for your sake, Shilo, and for your sake alone," he said. "He didn't want to - indeed, the very thought horrified him - but he couldn't let you be abandoned, left to die, or worse, to grow up on the streets. He did what he had to do, to protect you and take care of you, and to keep you safe." His eyes softened again. "I saw him with you, once or twice, when you were a newborn…" He shook his head again, this time with a strange sadness. "The way he cared for you was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

Shilo took a few, shaking breaths. "Did you know my father was poisoning me?" she asked Jack.

"No," Jack replied. "I had no idea…though I must say, I don't blame him. On the contrary, I respect him all the more, for having the strength, foresight, and ingenuity needed to keep you safe from Rotti's influence."

There was silence for a minute.

"And Shilo, there's one more thing you need to know," Jack finally continued: "In spite of all the reasons why it was necessary for your father to join us, it wasn't enough on its own to give him the ability to torture and kill people."

Shilo blinked.

Jack sighed, not breaking eye contact with her. "I supervised your father's training, and his first kills," he said. "I mentored him, told him what was expected of him, as one of us…and by the time I relocated and left the city at his mercy, he had developed split personality - an alter ego."

"I know what split personality is," Shilo managed to say.

Jack nodded. "Well, that's what happened to your father," he told Shilo. "It was the only way he could cope with what he had to do. I saw it happen to him, Shilo - watched the monster develop in him, separate from the man he really was. By the time he and I parted ways, there were two people living inside your father's body: There was the real Nathan Wallace, your father - a good, kind, caring man; and there was the monster, the Repo-man, the beast who, like the rest of my kind, thirsted for blood. That monster was what killed those people, not your father. I witnessed the two sides of Nathan Wallace myself. Sometimes, he would be slaughtering someone brutally, looking like he was having the time of his life - even playing with the corpses after he was done extracting the organs…and then, all of a sudden, a complete change would come over him; he would get this expression on his face that very clearly said, 'Oh my god, what have I done?'" Jack sighed again, and the pain Shilo saw in his eyes was real. "Only Rotti Largo could have made your father hurt people," he said, "and he did…but it was not your father's choice."

Shilo closed her eyes and nodded, struggling not to cry. She felt, rather than saw, Jack stand back up, as he didn't let go of her hands.

When at last she had gotten ahold of herself, and she knew she could speak without breaking, Shilo opened her eyes and met Jack's gaze again.

"Thank you," she managed.

Jack nodded.

There was silence for another minute.

"Now, Shilo, none of us have half so noble a story as your father," Jack finally continued. "Still, Rotti ruined all of us, just as surely as he ruined Nathan Wallace…and it is for your father's sake, if not ours, that I ask you to take our side in this conflict."

Shilo stiffened; she had almost forgotten why Jack Manson had been telling her all this in the first place.

"Please, help us, Shilo," Jack begged her softly, closing his hands around hers in a pleading gesture of helpless desperation. "Help us avenge ourselves, and together we shall also avenge your father. Join us. Exact your revenge on the Largo family, for what Rotti did to your father…and to you."

Shilo met Jack's gaze steadily. "And then what?" she asked him, not unkindly. "What will you do then?"

Jack sighed. "Then, hopefully, we will be able to attain some modicum of peace," he said. "After that…well, we have no place in this world, really. We are monsters; brutal slaughter is all we know, all we can do…so when we have avenged ourselves, we will leave this world. We'll be ready, then."

"And after that?" asked Shilo. "What happens to the world if the Largos fall? Amber still had a point - someone has to run GeneCo."

"Won't you do it?" Jack asked her pleadingly.

"No!" Shilo exclaimed, pulling her hands out of the Repo-man's grip. "I won't! I don't want any part of any of this!" Tears filled her eyes, dangerously close to spilling over and down her cheeks.

Jack sighed, and Shilo knew she wasn't imagining the sympathy in his gaze. "I'm sorry," he said to her. "I know it's a lot to ask of you, especially as you are still a child. But Shilo…with great power comes great responsibility; and, whether you like it or not, you have a great power."

"What power?" Shilo demanded tearfully.

"The power of love," Jack replied softly. "The power of compassion, of integrity, of decency, of kindness…of all the things Rotti tried to wipe off the face of this Earth. Shilo, you are the only good person left in the world - an angel dwelling among wretches. You have a responsibility to use your goodness to lead this world out of the darkness, for you are the one and only light in this dark, endless, suffocating night. And also…" His gaze softened a bit further. "You are our only hope," he added, even more softly. "You are our one and only chance to ever find some sort of peace. We need your help, Shilo…we need you, to help us put an end to Rotti's presence on this Earth, and avenge all of our kind - especially your father."

Shilo looked away, daggers of uncertainty slicing through her.

For a minute, everything was still.

"You don't have to decide right away," Jack finally told her gently. "Take your time. Hear out Amber's arguments, if you wish. In the meantime, we will wait for you, and we will try to contain ourselves."

"Contain yourselves?" Shilo asked, looking back up at him.

"We will do our best to hold back - all of us, all over the world," Jack vowed. "I can make no guarantees, as our thirst for blood is unquenchable, but we will do our best to wait for you to make your choice."

Shilo shook her head. "You don't have to do this," she said.

"Yes," Jack said with soft resignation, "we do."

"I don't believe that," Shilo protested softly. "I think you can still choose goodness."

But Jack shook his head sadly. "No, Shilo, we cannot," he said. "I know I might seem kind to you in this moment of time, but if you knew the sort of things that constantly run through my mind, you wouldn't think so highly of me. Even now, just looking at you, the monster in me is screaming for me to cut your throat - just deep enough that you won't be able to scream, but not so deep that you would die quickly. A part of me longs to terrorize you, to torture you to death, to make you bleed and suffer and…!" He clenched his fists and jaw, squeezing his eyes shut, as a shudder that was visible even to Shilo racked his body.

She stared at him in horror.

Finally, the tension in his body lessened, and he opened his eyes with a sigh that was so full of pain that, in spite of what had just happened, Shilo couldn't help but feel sorry for him.

"That's what I am, Shilo," he said sadly, meeting her eyes once more. "It is all I can ever be. I can never be human, no matter how much I might wish otherwise."

"I'm sorry," Shilo heard herself say softly.

"Thank you," Jack said; "that means a lot to me."

There was silence again.

"We will take you home now," Jack finally said. "Forgive us, but we must bring you back the same way we brought you here."

Shilo swallowed nervously.

"Just relax," he said softly, stepping over to her. "No matter what, we will not give in to our urges in your case. You are safe among us; I promise you will come to no harm. Just relax," he said again, his voice going soft and soothing, as he stepped around behind her. "Close your eyes…You'll be all right…"

"You're gonna be all right, that's all that matters…" Her father's words, from the night of the opera, echoed in Shilo's mind. Her body was tense with instinctive fear, but she closed her eyes and forced herself to hold still.

"Sleep, sweet angel," Jack whispered in her ear.

She felt a needle pierce her shoulder, and then she knew nothing more.

~X~

When Shilo came to, the first thing she realized was that she was lying on something soft.

She opened her eyes, blinked her vision clear…and wondered if everything - the opera night and all - had been a dream.

She was back in her room. The curtains of plastic still hung around her bed. She was under her sheets, so she couldn't see if she was wearing her white nightdress or the clothes she had worn - she thought she had worn - when she'd answered - thought she'd answered - Amber's summons. She could feel an itchiness where her head was touching the pillow, but that could just as easily have been from her wig as from the short hair she thought she'd grown.

She wanted to lie there forever, praying that her father would come in any moment and tell her to take her medicine. She didn't want to know for sure if it had been real or not, so long as she could pretend it had all been a dream…

"Shilo."

At the sound of his voice, Shilo sat bolt upright in bed and looked around.

Jack Manson was sitting on her bed beside her, just as her father had used to do. He was still wearing his uniform, and he had his helmet tucked under one arm.

She looked at him.

They were both silent for a minute.

"I…" Shilo sighed and shook her head. "For a minute there, I'd hoped it was all a dream," she said.

She opened her eyes to see Jack nod. "I've been there," he said sadly. "Sometimes, in the moments when I first wake up, I still hope that the first thing I'll hear is my mother coming into my room to wake me up to go to school." His eyes lost their focus as he stared off in a direction somewhere over Shilo's head. "I was in the third grade when I was taken," he said softly, almost to himself.

"The third grade?" Shilo asked, confused.

"Hm?" He blinked and refocused his eyes on her. "Oh, don't mind me," he said quickly. "I'm just a…an old man, rambling about an earlier time." He tried to smile at her, but again, the expression didn't even come close to reaching his chilly gray eyes.

Shilo said nothing.

He sighed. "Be that as it may, Shilo," he said, "the truth is, there's no going back. Not for me…" He put a gloved hand gently on her arm. "…and not for you," he said softly; "no matter how much we might wish otherwise."

Shilo met his eyes…and nodded.

He nodded back slowly, gave her arm another pat, and said, "Be well, Shilo…No matter what happens, no matter what you choose, I truly do wish you well. You deserve that much."

"So do you," Shilo heard herself reply.

Jack chuckled, and Shilo could have sworn she saw a faint gleam of humor in his eyes, if only for an instant.

"Farewell, Shilo Wallace," he said, standing up. He gave her a formal bow, put his helmet back on, turned around, and walked out her window.

Shilo leapt out of bed at the same time he vaulted over the fence around the balcony. Alarmed, she ran outside and looked over the edge, just as Jack Manson finished sliding down the wire he'd thrown over the side and touched down on the ground, completely unharmed.

He turned his covered head up to her. For a minute, Shilo saw the blue light from his helmet shine up in her direction, and she could have sworn she saw him raise one gloved hand in farewell. Then the light vanished, and Jack Manson slipped away almost invisibly, barely more than a shadow moving in the darkness of the streets.

When she couldn't make him out anymore, Shilo raised her head to look out on the city…at the view that had, for so long, been her only view of the world.

She breathed deeply of the cool night air. Hardly a month and a half ago, she had stood in this exact same spot, wishing with all her heart for a chance to go outside. Now, she wanted nothing more than to never have to go outside again, to be able to turn back the clock to a time when she hadn't known the horrors the world held for anyone who walked it, no matter who they were or how hard they tried to escape the pain.

But of course, as always, her wish was no one's command.