Happy new year! I hope you all have a wonderful 2014 :). Thanks again for your reviews!

Esmerie rubbed her hands nervously. She tried hard not to let her knees tremble, but she still felt like a leaf holding for dear life to a branch during an autumn storm, she was shaking so hard.

For the first time since she could remember, she was wearing her white lab coat, name tag pinned on the left breast pocket and all. Her brown hair was tied in a bun on top of her head, with a few incompliant strands framing her face. She had wiped her glasses so much they shone with luster. She was the image of the person her father wanted her to be. He would be proud.

She grimaced, and shoved her hands in her lab coat's pockets, hoping she could stop the shakiness. She chew on her right cheek glancing at the door beside her: room 214B. The previous day they had moved the innovator and placed him there.

You can do this, she said to herself, you can do this. She repeated it to herself for a few times, like a mantra, hoping she would end up believing it before the door opened. She had spent the entire night tossing around her bed, trying to find a way to convince herself that she didn't need to do this, that it was too risky, but the part of her that held on to hope was stronger, or so she thought when she had left her room. Now she wasn't so sure, maybe she was simply being a fool, dreaming too big, hoping too much. But she did know that if she didn't do this now, she would end up shutting herself back in her room and that would be the end of it all. She only needed to convince her father and those working on the innovator to let her work with them, not too complicated, right? Easy enough.

But for her these things were never easy. She could spend her entire life hiding, walking with her head down, doing what she was told, and pretending none of it hurt. That was easy, she was used to it. It was her comfort zone, even if she hated it. But taking a little stand for herself, lifting up her head, saying what she wanted to do instead of just taking orders, that… that was hard. She didn't have a voice, and if she did it was just a squeak.

But what scared her most was what happened after. If they let her work with them, what then? How on Earth was she planning to discover who was this innovator ? And how was she going to be able to deal with her feelings? She tried to never think of Marcus, because thinking of him threatened to break the dam of emotions she was trying hard to hide. And this innovator, this Setsuna, would be too much of a reminder. He could become her destruction.

She took a shuttering breath and closed her eyes. She placed her hand on her chest and felt her heart thumping against it, as if it could break away from its prison and flee. I am coward, she said to herself, let's face it, I could never pull this off. She had half a mind to turn around and forget all of this when the door of the room slid silently open and her heart gave a lurch.

It wasn't her father, but another man she hated as much, perhaps even more. He stopped in front of the door as this one slid soundlessly close behind him, reading something on his electronic tablet. He hadn't yet noticed her presence, and some part of her pointed out that she could still make a quick exit and pretend nothing ever happened. Instead, she stood there and observed him.

She knew who he was, she had seen him a lot around her father with an air of superiority that always followed him, mocking her. His name was Nate Allerton, and he was the head psychologist of the facility. She looked at him warily, not really wanting to deal with him. She had always felt intimidated by the man, always felt that the words stuck in her throat when he was around. She sighed quietly, deciding that it was time to leave, and he chose that moment to look at her.

"Dr. Allerton," she said, her voice shaky, as he studied her in bored surprise.

"I haven't seen you in a while." He had a smile pasted on his perfectly symmetrical, handsome face, but his voice sounded slightly annoyed. He turned back to his tablet. "What are you doing here?"

"Where is my father?" She asked, forcing herself to walk up to him before her courage failed her. She almost tripped on her own feet. She kept her hands shoved in her pockets, not wanting him to notice the slight tremble that overtook them.

"Not here for sure," he answered, bored, and with a tone that underlined that she should run along and stop pestering him. She was not worth his time.

She almost did just that. She turned around and took a few steps, her blood pounding against her ears, her fists clenched inside her impeccable white pockets, tears prickling her eyes. What had she been thinking? That she could change her life? She couldn't even hold the arrogant psychologist's gaze! She was nothing, no one… she was nothing but a girl who was scared of her own shadow. She sighed, resigned.

And then she thought of the innovator's gaze on her… she thought of Marcus, and of what he had meant to her. She thought of all the children who were being driven mad thanks to her. She thought of those who had been tore from their normal lives to be forever shut on this island, destined for nothing but their own destruction by the hands of some arrogant fool, who thought it was perfectly alright to do all this.

She was not the only one living in her own private hell.

She looked over her shoulder at the psychologist. He was smiling at the screen of his tablet, and she seriously wondered if he was looking at his own reflection. She wouldn't be surprised.

She closed her eyes and swallowed hard against the lump in her throat, against the cowardice that had always stopped her from standing up for herself.

If this was the last day of your life, what would you do? Marcus' voice came to her mind, and she smiled a little. She glanced at the doctor again. I would love to wipe off the smirk off his face.

She turned around, her nerves stilling, her gaze hard.

"I want to work on the innovator," she said firmly.

"What?" Dr. Allerton looked back at her, wondering what she was still doing there.

"I… I want to join your team and work on the innovator," she repeated, walking up to him. She stole a quick glance at the tablet and noticed in disgust that the doctor had been, in fact, looking at himself. "So let me join your team."

He chuckled, as if he was entertaining a child. "Esmerie, that's not up to me to decide. And even if you finally choose to dress up properly like a grown up, that's not going to happen. This job is only for important people, you understand?"

Warmth tinged her cheeks as he looked her over, from head to toe, and she felt fury shooting through her. "You mean for people who can't stop looking at themselves?" She inquired quietly, rising an eyebrow.

She wanted to make him angry, or at least make him blush with embarrassment at having someone discovering his secret and disgusting habit, but he only sighed and put his tablet in his pocket.

Looking at her with pity, he patted her shoulder awkwardly. "Look… Esmerie… I know these are hard times for you, I know you must be going through some sort of identity issue that every teenager goes through… But that's just it, we all have our problems, kid, and we all go through them quietly. So let me help you get through yours: stop thinking about things that are simply too much for you to handle, and focus on the things you can actually do, ok?" He smiled at her, showing off his white teeth, matching dimples and all.

She couldn't believe she had been intimidated by this moron. "I will talk to my father, and I will join your team."

"Well, go run to daddy then," he said, growing impatient, and walked away probably to go admire himself somewhere he wouldn't be interrupted. She was left fuming in anger.

"Esmerie?"

She turned around to find Charlotte looking at her with concern in her eyes.

"Oh, miss Cross, sorry I didn't notice you were there," she said, trying to ignore the fact that the older woman could probably see the heated flush of anger in her cheeks. Her hands were still shaking in her pockets, but this time it was because of rage. She was tired of her own powerlessness and frustration.

Charlotte didn't answer her, she just kept studying her face as if trying to find something Esmerie didn't know was there.

"What's wrong?" Esmerie finally asked, not liking the silent scrutiny as it went on.

"Esmerie… I couldn't help but overhear your conversation with Dr. Allerton," she said, and kept studying her as if gauging her reaction.

"That's no problem at all, miss Cross, I just want to find out more about the fascinating innovator everyone's being talking about." She replied, and was proud at how smoothly that had sounded. It was something to salvage her humiliation from the previous conversation with Dr. I-Am-More-Beautiful-Than-You.

"Do you think that's wise?"

Esmerie frowned, confused. "What do you mean?"

Charlotte seemed to waver, as if unsure she should said what was in her mind. She finally sighed and looked at her sadly. "Well… A couple of months ago, with the Marcus case… his death had seemed to hit you pretty hard… in a personal level."

For the second time in the day she felt her cheeks burning, and then her eyes widened in horror at the implication. Did she know? She asked herself. Does anybody else know?

"And now with this new innovator we have... well he is young too, probably just a few years older than you... and I don't want you Developing feelings for someone who would never be more than an experimental subject."

Esmerie could do nothing more but stare in dumb unbelief at the older woman. Is this what she thinks this is all about? A stupid teenager's crush? She had truly thought the woman had been talking about how exactly Marcus had died, and some part of her was so relieved she could have laughed.

Charlotte had been watching as Esmerie's expression changed from nervousness to confusion. In truth, she had never meant to overhear her conversation with the doctor, but it had not surprised her. In the past, when they had brought the innovator Marcus, she had noticed the changes in Esmerie. She had noticed how the shy, quiet girl began to smile more, and she would notice the wonder in her eyes, the carefree way she would walk, all the while all Charlotte felt was pity. There was nothing worse than falling in love with the wrong person. Now she saw how the younger girl straightened, and met her eyes steadily.

"I assure you that is not a concern," she said firmly. "I believe there's much I can learn through the innovator. I'm not here to… to fall in love with someone."

"Alright," Charlotte answered, still looking unsure. "As long as you know to be careful."

Esmerie tried not to show her frustration, after all Charlotte looked truly worried for her in her own way, and that touched her. "Trust me, I know." She said, smoothing the edginess in her tone. She was starting to wonder where her father could be. Should she wait for him in the hallway? Or look for him somewhere else?

"In any case," Charlotte continued. "I was looking for you to tell you about the order."

Esmerie met her eyes again distractedly. Today's roller-coaster of emotions was going to leave her exhausted. "What order?"

"Is about the children from our section. Rooms 250 to 255."

She tensed "Did something happen?"

"They're going to find new kids to replace them."

"They're going to get rid of them!?"

Charlotte startled, surprise at the intensity in Esmerie's voice, and Esmerie felt herself growing small. She had not meant to yell.

"They're useless to us now, Esmerie," Charlotte said to her slowly, watching her more carefully than she had been before, wondering at what she had heard in Esmerie's voice. Anger? Guilt? Did she not understand why they were doing what they were doing? She suddenly realized that she did not know her as much as she thought she did. She had always thought of her as nothing more than a small, shy girl with a bright brain. But now she wondered if there was more in the way she always avoided people's eyes, in the way she seemed to hide, to blend with the walls and disappear in the background. "We can't do anything with them anymore."

"No! But we still can… I can… " I can what? Save them? Free them? She bit her lip. I can't do anything. And then she saw the way Charlotte was looking at her, as if trying to understand what was behind her expression. She had let too much of what she was truly feeling into her voice, and that was dangerous. She had to get a hold of herself.

"Sorry," she said immediately, making sure she met Charlotte's eyes. "I didn't realize how damaged they were already," she felt her heart breaking as she made her voice sound as detached as possible. "Such a shame really, I thought we would get more out of them." She internally cringed at her own uncaring words.

"Yeah, I know what you mean," Charlotte replied, but the way she watched her did not change. Charlotte felt as if she was looking at her for the first time. She thought again of her father, Dr. Kenta, and of why on earth he would keep his daughter here. She was brilliant, true, but she was also only a child. You bastard, she thought as she saw Esmerie was clearly having some internal turmoil, this girl should not be here.

She placed her hand gently on her shoulder. "One day the world will thank us for what we are doing," she said, and Esmerie kept unnaturally still as she tried not to convey what she felt at those words. "We will save a lot of lives with what we are doing."

But at the cost of how many?

Esmerie smiled, hoping it looked natural. "I hope so," she said, when in her heart she knew she would never believe it. How could anyone be grateful with what was happening around her? She turned around, knowing she could not hold it anymore, and left before her mask slipped off completely from her face and she would be left utterly exposed in front of the woman.

Charlotte's eyes followed her as she walked down the hall, and again she wondered about Dr. Kenta and his daughter, and wondering made her eyes filled with unusual sadness. Because she had always thought, and now was almost sure, that her father had probably looked into his little girl's brain too, he had probably been the one to make her brilliant.

And she wondered how such knowledge would affect the younger woman.

It was hot by the time Allelujah and Lyle left the Ptolemaios to talk, once again, with Kosuke Ren. Covered in sweat, their clothes stuck to their skin as they strode up the dirt road that would eventually lead them to the lonely house. There was no cloud up in the sky, and not even a faint breeze lifted the scorching heat of the day. Flies buzzed around, finding it amusing to annoy the two meisters as they tried without success to wave them away. Soon mosquitos joined in the fun, in a merciless chase for their blood.

"The guy better talk or I swear I'll drag him myself to the ship," Lyle muttered under his breath, waving his arms around him. Allelujah just shrugged, too deep in his own thoughts to actually care about the mini vampires zooming around him. They seemed to prefer Lyle anyways.

"Or better yet, I'll tie him in a chair and leave him outside for the whole day, and then—" He had to shut his mouth immediately and waved his hands madly in front of him. Some of the mosquitos had gotten too close to his face for his liking. He did not need to swallow one.

"We'll need to move the ptolemaios soon," Allelujah suddenly said, totally unconcern for what was going on around him. Lyle looked at him resentful; the mosquitos seemed to respect his need for space. "If we don't, someone is bound to notice it soon."

"Yeah, let's hope we can resolve this quickly."

"Resolve?" Allelujah chuckled without humor. "Is not going to be that easy. Think about it, if what we assume is true, then there is a whole organization out there involved in human trafficking. Because this is human trafficking. And there is probably some governments involved in it too, just imagine how much money it would take to have an organization like the Super Human Research Institute? How much would it take to keep it hidden? " He shook his head, still being unable to accept the magnitude of such truth.

Lyle looked at him, and easily saw the resentment in his eyes, the anger and the desperation. He didn't know much about Allelujah's past, but he knew the general story, about how both he and Marie had been part of the experiments in the Institute. He didn't want to imagine what they both went through. They were all plagued by their own pasts, and he didn't want to add more burdens to his own.

"He's going to be fine, you know," Lyle said, his eyes back on the road. "Setsuna's a strong guy. He will probably find his own way out."

Allelujah didn't answer. He looked up at the sky, his right arm over his eyes so as not to be blinded by the sun. The bluest sky he had ever seen stretched before him, like an endless blanket.

"It doesn't matter how strong you are." He whispered, more to himself than to Lyle.

They kept walking in silence, the only sound between them being their steps against the road, and the mosquitoes and flies that zoomed around them. They finally saw the hill that lead up to the house, and began the painful walk upwards, wiping the sweat from their brow. Lyle had to stop for a moment, gripping his knees tightly as he breathed hard, wishing they had brought water. He shook his head in self-mockery, amazed how the heat was draining all of his energy. He just wanted to sit under a tree and not move a limb ever again.

"I thought you said no one knows the guy is at his house," Allelujah suddenly said, some alarm in his voice.

"They don't," Lyle said as he looked up, and then he saw what had alarmed his colleague. It seemed like the police force of the island had decided to park right there in front of the house.

"What are they doing here?" Allelujah asked him. The motorcycles were all there, but the policemen were not in sight. Were they inside the house? And then they heard a shout as a man opened the front door and spotted them. The man ran out of the house toward them, following behind him was a group of uniformed men.

Too shocked to think of running, Allelujah and Lyle just stood there watching as the men approached them. Some of them had waited behind on their motorcycles, as if daring them to run.

And then they were surrounded