Quiller woke up startled. The darkness that met his knowingly open eyes made his breathing rate increase. The air he breathed in so ruggedly made him gag and choke. This wasn't the field outside the art building on the school grounds. It was just black. Did he fall back asleep? Did the shock of what he heard make him faint? He didn't like contemplating on such trivial weaknesses, but in a situation like this he hoped to himself that maybe he wouldn't be the only one to faint when you were given the news that all your friends had been killed by another. His sobbing grew louder in the silent blackness. Quiller held his quivering hands across his mouth as he hyperventilated. The hitched sounds made by his spasmic-state diaphragm bounced off walls, creating an echo. Suddenly as he tried to take in the one sense he could trust, one question was answered; Quiller wasn't on the grass anymore. He clamped his mouth shut, his uneven, sharp breathing only escaping as small hisses through his nostrils. Quiller then slowly removed his hands and cautiously touched the ground he lay upon.

His trembling finger tips brushed against familiar man made materials. There was the smooth touch or rubber, which encase the copper wires inside of it. The rounded, elongated forms stayed glued to the ground. Quiller could move his hand over part of its unknown length – there were a bundle of wires – he came to know this by hitting a hard, plastic tie, holding the cylindrical shapes together. Between the wires was the cold, rough texture of concrete. The hardness of the ground contrasted with the moss that grew on it; soft and moist. Or was it moss? He couldn't really tell, this may as well be his second time feeling moss. The first time was when he first entered the forest last night.

Not only did his new unknown environment cause him to panic, the thought of the amount of time passing by caused him to hold his breath once more to prevent him from crying. He moved his hand back up to cover his mouth and his sleeves rubbed against his sweater making a sound.

That sound was also repeated in another area of Quiller's sharp hearing. He froze.

Quiller held him mouth shut tightly as if somebody had punched him there. His fingers dug into his flesh, contorting his features. As bad as he looked when he was nervous, this would have been far worse and far more bewildered a look to gaze upon. Quiller had never sensed this much fear, and it was quickly rising to the top of his head, wanting to well out of his tear ducts and his mouth as discreditable howling. But he couldn't, for his ears had identified that there was something moving in the darkness. Quiller compressed himself to be as still as he could ever be and listened for further noises.

There was breathing and another sound of the low subtle hiss of fabric rubbing against other unknown materials in the dark.

"uhhh. What happened…?"

Quiller let himself go. Exhalation had never felt so good. It was Bayfur's voice.

"Hullo?" Quiller welcomed the voice as it bounced off the walls.

"Boy am I glad to see you alive!" Quiller laughed lightly, completely dismissing their current situation. Quiller popped his own bubble of happiness with another trail of thought entering his head. Where on earth were they? He could feel his face crimple back into a frown.

"I think Tata has held them off. You've been whimpering and crying in that corner for ages, young lad." Bayfur sighed. "I was just waiting in the silence hoping you'd wake up."

What?

"You took an awful bump on the head when we went through that trap door."

There was a painful whine coming from the ceiling of the dark tunnel they sat in, followed by one gun shot. It was familiar and it sent sudden fear through the whole of Q-b's body. It was Tata's gun shots; she killed everyone and she was still on the rampage. Quiller found himself holding his arm where he was shot. It was a natural instinct to cover up the wound and he immediately regretted it because he knew what the pain would feel like from a slight tap to the hit area. His finger traced the bicep of his left arm; there was no pain. His moments on his arm became less prudent as he rolled up his sleeves. The skin was moist, covered in sweat and the Goosebumps were the only texture he felt on his arm.

"My arm…!?" He hissed at himself.

"What happened?" The stoic tone to Bayfur's voice left and there was the tone of concern. "What did you do? Are you hurt?"

"I should have been shot." The young man's reply whined in confusion towards the hobbit.

A laugh escaped the Hobbit. "You got hit by a lot more dust than I expected. Maybe that's what got you out-cold, lad."

"What do you mean dust?"

"Didn't that lass tell you about the side effects of being connected to the node?" This was getting out of hand. Did Bayfur know something he doesn't about this mission?

"What is dust?" Quiller growled. He pushed up his glasses attempting to search for the Hobbit that sounded like he was surrounding him at all angles, due to the way the tunnel delivered sound around the space.

Quiller very rarely trusted the other students, he knew himself well. So when he asked that Secret had covered all the details of this mission he was sure that it was complete. Turns out she had missed out one fine thread of information; something Orela would have no problem missing and informing people she relied on – if she were to have handed out this mission. Q-b also knew that Secret wasn't stupid.

"The Dust surrounding the nodes induces hallucinations." Secret had clearly explained that to Bayfur. "So I held my breath whenever I stepped into the ring surrounding the node." He wouldn't have gathered that information from first time experience. She had told him. "If you breathe in the Dust it'll only be a matter of time before you lose consciousness and begin hallucinating – or it can happen the other way round." Did she miss this out by accident?

Quiller burrowed his throbbing head into his palms, wiping off the nervous sweat he kept on perspiring. His head ached the more he thought about what he had allegedly dreamt of or hallucinated.

"So… I began to hallucinate and then we fell into here?" He croaked. "Where is Tata?"

Just as Quiller uttered the name of the turret another sound accompanied Tata's name; it was the sound of metal creaking open, scratching against hinges and rocks that crackled down the surface of the metal hatch that was opening. Moon light poured in though the rectangular hole, illuminating the steps that the Hobbit and the young man tumbled down on. The ground below them was indeed covered in wires and little bits of dead plant material. It wasn't as damp as Quiller thought it was. The light above the two academy members was obstructed by a small albeit familiar silhouette of a blood covered Tata.

Wolves didn't tear her apart.

"I am right here, are you all right?" moved downwards the metal stairs, using both her legs to slide down each step, like a toddler getting down the stairs. As she moved down towards a more visible vantage point the light brought out red features that Quiller and Bayfur shuddered at.

"You're covered in -" Quiller was interrupted by the turret. "-Red paint. I know." Quiller let out a heavy breath through his nose, making a hiss, almost as if suppressing a laugh or in anger. Tata carefully trod over the wires. "Where is the laptop Q-b?"

The young man turned his head quickly scanning his surroundings for it. It was only now that he remembered that he had brought it with him. His curly bangs bounced around as his movements became more tediously panicked. Quiller briefly remembered that he tucked the laptop underneath his jumper; he quickly patted his abdomen and torso. Nothing. "I don't have it!" he yelped, and instinctively stumbled his way towards the stairs. It was almost like he had swapped legs with Felix, with such clumsy, flimsy moments. Quiller let out an aggravated groan as he hit his knee on a metal step.

"Where are you going?!" Quiller could hear Bayfur call after him. Tata stepped aside, watching the two scramble up the stairs. Bayfur hesitantly looked at Tata, she gave a nod indicating that she had taken care of what she had to take care of. No wolves out here.

The slab of rock surrounded by 16 other smaller rocks reflected the silver moonlight. There was no green slab of technology left around however. It was gone.

The moon hung emotionless in the sky. It didn't care what had happened on the earth below. It just watched the man with glasses scream in anger, breathing heavily in a rage. The moon watched the three of the Secret Club's agents fail their mission in retrieving data from this node.

Little did the three know that the beautiful, unwavering moon had also watched somebody lay their paws on Q-b's laptop and the vast amount of alien data.