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Disclaimer: Again, I don't own the characters or Tales of Symphonia. Although I suppose Anna's personality is fairly unknown, so that is something I'll be adding in... still don't own her though.

And to my reviewers: Thanks so much for the advice and support! They mean a lot to me =)

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Chapter 10

Precisely one month later, Kratos found himself swiftly approaching the Asgard ranch for another evaluation of the Angelus Project. More than anything, he wished to be invisible. He couldn't fathom why the thought had occurred to him, but it was definitely appealing. Not that he knew how to disappear, or that if he could it would be practical. He settled on wishing that he could be back in his room-he had spent much of his down time brooding there- rather than being on Sylvarant again. Something about the place had intoxicated him last time, made him almost lose his mind. Kratos was none too keen to experience that imbalance again, though given the circumstances he was in it was hardly avoidable.

He touched down roughly; he hadn't been paying attention. Too much thinking, he chided himself. Kratos had landed a little further from the entrance than usual, but he decided to close the distance by walking. He proceeded through the main entrance, and walked to Kvar's office. He hadn't been there before that he could remember, but he had studied the base schematics in his spare time since it was now part of his routine to visit.

"Kvar, I have come to inspect your progress on the Angelus Project."

"Ah, yes. This way."

"I can make my own inspections." Kratos glared at him coldly before exiting the room.

Kvar smiled and called in a Desian security officer, asking him to tail the official of Cruxis in secret. After the man had gone, he turned to the hologram recorder in the corner of the room. After Kratos had left his ranch, he would report everything to Lord Yggdrasil. These visits would be the key to gaining the trust of his true superior. The middleman was of no concern to him; in fact, with any luck, he would be replacing him by the end of the century, he thought. But Kvar had no idea of the relationships between the three leaders of Cruxis- he only knew of their immortality, and that it was one thing he had not yet achieved in his long and successful life.

…

Kratos spoke to the guard outside the door to A012's holding room. Something had made him extremely nervous on the way down, and he realized that his hands were beginning to perspire. He entered cautiously, remembering what had happened the last time he had seen her. It, actually; I should be referring to the host body as an "it". But something about the way the female was collapsed on the floor made him feel a stab of pity. He walked over to the body, glaring down at it from his full height. He would not stoop to the human's level; he could inspect her from where he was. Kratos moved her arm with his foot, so that the crystal growing into her hand would be fully visible from beneath her long, ragged hair.

She hadn't been on the floor the last time he had encountered her, but he knew it shouldn't bother him. It was not his problem if the humans here were suffering, because the human ranches were established to bring equality for all life. He knew better than most that nothing would be accomplished without a price. He knew that fact beyond any doubt.

The exphere looked as if it had grown a significant amount since his last visit. Perhaps it had been absorbing her vitality at a faster rate. He would put it into his report, along with possible explanations for the phenomenon. Perhaps it would also lend ways to increase productivity. Not that the speed of manufacturing would make any difference to Mithos. He knew the boy was only doing this favor to the world on behalf of his sister Martel, after all. When she awakened he had planned to show her the new world to gain her respect, and wanted nothing more than her love. Kratos had nothing to say on the matter, and knew that even if he did, Mithos would never change his mind based on what others thought. That was what made him strong. Kratos had been like that too, once…

He stared down at the mysterious creature at his feet. The process shouldn't take too much longer now… good. He bent his knees to balance on his toes, reaching toward the subject's hand in order to test if the crystal was smooth. It was an interesting color, the deepest of reds- not azure like a typical exphere and not quite the red-orange hue of a Cruxis crystal. As he ran his fingertips along the gem, he felt slightly uncomfortable. He had to remind himself that he was examining a specimen, and that this was a perfectly acceptable procedure. Interestingly enough, the crystal was smooth, in contrast to the roughness of the hand which it was attached to. Kratos drew his hand back, preparing to stand, when he saw the host body stir slightly. He realized that she was trying to grab at his hand, and was thankful that he had already pulled away. He hadn't realized she had been facing him as he examined the developing sphere, but it was of no consequence now. He turned quickly, and walked toward the door.

"Wait, please…" she managed to whisper the words, before starting a fit of violent coughing.

Kratos knew there was no harm in granting her this last request, so he stopped walking to give her a chance to speak, keeping his back to her. He didn't want to give her the impression that he was eager to listen, either. He hated to admit it, but he was curious to hear what she was going to say- never before had he seen someone capable of resisting the stage of Toxicosis which robbed a human of their memories, essentially their heart. The last stage of the angel transformations he had seen were always carried out along the controlled process of Mana Usurpation, where a Welgaian posing as a priest would take mana from the body of the Chosen while he or she was most vulnerable- after battle, during a prayer- which usually worked quite effectively. He was curious to see how this natural course of the disease could be different than that he had already seen… or perhaps, it is the subject which is stronger. He dismissed that thought quickly, not wanting it to cloud his judgment.

She stopped coughing abruptly, and Kratos turned to look. There was a small amount of blood by her cheek, which had run from the corner of her mouth and smeared into her already matted and scraggly hair. It was a disgusting sight to behold, but he didn't look away. She was still struggling with impulses to expel the liquid from her lungs, but she was also trying to mouth something, clearly trying to form words but unable to produce sounds- she was gasping oddly, and tried to gesture with one hand as she propped herself up with the other. While Kratos was staring at her, she suddenly stopped moving and hit the floor with a dull thud, impassive once again. He wondered if she was even alive, and walked over to check her pulse. He was surprised that he remembered how.

"Humph. Still alive." He muttered, not aware that he had even spoken.

At that precise moment, the guard at the door walked into the room. Kratos dropped her hand quickly, and stood. He felt extremely… uncomfortable. Guilty, as though he had been caught doing something he shouldn't have been doing. Although he knew it was his job to inspect the host body, he wasn't sure how checking her pulse could have been all that different.

"Is everything all right, sir?"

"Yes, why?"

"You were taking much longer than usual, sir."

"I'm finished now."

Kratos strode quickly from the room, the color in his face turning slightly. He couldn't understand it yet, but there was definitely something about the woman in that room that had a power over him. There was simply no way around that fact anymore. And Kratos hated to think about it, but if he did, he was no longer constrained to thoughts of her eyes. He thought of her, and felt things as he thought- even just leaving the building, he couldn't get her sickness out of his mind. He couldn't help feeling guilty when he thought of her will to escape, which was crippled by the exphere growing out of her body. The more useful she became to Cruxis and the closer she was to becoming this evolved crystal, the less she was able to control her life. It was silly to think, since of course her life belonged to the crystal right from the beginning, and the crystal belonged to Cruxis, therefore… A012 belonged to Cruxis. Kratos hadn't thought about it like that before. A012 was the property of Cruxis, and so were the other people on the ranch… in fact, all humans in Sylvarant were basically the property of Cruxis, since so many Chosens had failed they had condemned themselves to that. Should the balance shift, however, since he was assigned to aid the next Chosen on her journey- if Tethe'alla was in decline their bodies would be the property of Cruxis too. That made all humans property of Cruxis…

Kratos was flying high over the clouds of Sylvarant when he finally came back to his senses. It was dark, and he wasn't sure how long ago the sun had gone down. He wasn't sure what to do either, because after thinking about everything that had happened, he had developed a strange desire to help A012 escape before her death. He would help them recover her exphere later, but if she could finally escape the ranch and enjoy that moment of freedom… well, it would help him stomach those twinges of guilt, for one thing. It might even make the exphere stronger, he reasoned, if her spirit was strong when it was finished off (not that he could know for certain, but it was a thought nonetheless). Not that he cared about the power of the exphere of course, but it would be something he could tell Mithos. That was all he really needed.

Kratos dipped below the clouds, curious to see if he would be able to recognize where he had flown to- he hadn't been paying attention while he was brooding. There was a small lake of twinkling lights on the horizon, and he decided to land in the middle of the forest to avoid being seen. As he got closer to the city, he began to recognize the terrain: he was on the outskirts of Iselia.

…

Two days later Kratos found himself in the woods outside the Asgard Ranch, for the second time in as many months. This time however, he had come with a purpose half-etched in his mind. He was glad he had done some research into Angel Toxicosis while he had been on Derris-Kharlan, but now that the knowledge had brought him here, he was not sure it had been a good idea; he reached into his side pouch for the fifth time that afternoon and fingered a peculiar ring made out of inhibitor ore which he had just bought. It was slim and dull, with incredibly small markings carved into and around the middle. Kratos still couldn't believe he had commissioned the thing- he wouldn't have, he knew, if he had gone straight home. But he had flown to Iselia, and discovered a dwarf living nearby…

He shook his head forcefully, his messy auburn hair shifting and glinting int he late afternoon. He kept willing these ridiculous thoughts to disappear into the four thousand years of dull memories, but they did not; they kept nagging at him, and he felt ready to claw them out of his brain, if only he knew how. The key crest in his hand didn't look like much, but he knew it would restore the girl's control of her mind. He knew it would give her the power she needed to die as herself- though she seemed to be holding on better than anyone he had ever seen. Yet here he stood, holding it his hand perhaps five hundred yards from her window, looking up and wondering what he should do.

He wanted to help her escape, and he wanted to give her the ring so that she would be free at last- but he also knew that this was a step he would never be able to explain to Cruxis. He had rationalized it to himself, perhaps, but it would never sound reasonable to Yuan- let alone Mithos. But he couldn't risk giving it to her the in secret and leaving, because if she didn't try to escape and they noticed she had regained herself, there might be questions. Not that the Desians would immediately expect her to be wearing a key crest, but if they did notice the ring, they would take it from her and that would be the end of it. Then there would be questions, since Kratos would have been the last person to have seen her, most likely… and she would also be much more miserable if she was aware of herself and stuck in captivity than if he left her the way she was now. It wasn't likely that she would be able to outwit the guards a second time in her condition.

This left Kratos with one other option- his original idea had been to set her free, in addition to giving her the key crest. Then she would have her chance to run, and she would be free from the ranch for a few days tops before she was caught again, or more likely found dead. He remembered her condition much more vividly than he wanted to- not that it was anything particularly horrid, only that it was something he didn't like to think about and it kept pressing down on him, making him uncomfortable. Kratos knew that no matter what actions he took, she would still die- but it made him rest a little easier knowing that no matter what he did, it would not make much of a difference. In this way, as long as Kvar still got his research project in the end, would it really matter that the subject had been happier in the last days of her life? Kratos knew full well that he was being unreasonable, but then again whenever he was near that woman he always seemed to be that way. It was the strangest sensation he could remember, and it was at the same time very familiar- he couldn't seem to place it, but he felt a vague desire to see her again. He didn't know what it meant, and he frankly didn't care. There was only the matter of orchestrating her escape, in a way that would keep her from knowing who had done it. Because if she saw his face, if she knew who he was- it was just not a good idea. Every fiber in his being seemed to know that for a fact, and he wasn't about to go against that.

It would have been better to just skip the whole plan and go home, he knew, but as he looked up at her window and waited as the sun went down, he knew that he wasn't going back. He thought about his room back on Derris-Kharlan, and the paperwork waiting for him there- he thought of his stacks of books and the idle life he had led for so many uncountable years, and he knew that there was no choice about it anymore- he couldn't go back to that life while there was this tiny key crest resting in the palm of his hand.