The Warden pound his fist against the sterile-white hall as he stormed down it'd path, shaking off the dull pain only to pound against it again.

His mind swam in his anger. How dare the two of them treat him so horribly? How was he supposed to know that things would have gotten so bad? He'd done well enough to admit his mistakes, which for him may as well have been the one impossible feat he couldn't perform.

By some divine intelligence, he had managed to find his way back to the surveillance room. He wasn't sure if Jared would still be there or not, nor did he really care. He wasn't about to go back to his room, and this was the only familiar place he knew of.

Inside, mildly surprised, sat Jared in his swivel-chair. A satisfied, yet impatient smile rested just under his exaggerated mustache.

He lifted his short, stubby leg across his knee in a lazed sweep.

The Warden pulled back his own chair, disgruntled, plopping down in a pout as he had before. He slowly turned his head to glare at his former assistant. He looked upon him as though it was his fault; as though he hadn't tried hard enough to stop him from bursting into that godforsaken Observation room.

Jared only shrugged and fiddled with a few knobs and buttons on his desk.

"I take it the trip went well then?" He snickered, eying the disheveled Warden up and down a few times.

"Oh yes! Absolutely!" The Warden cried, throwing his hands in the air.

"Let's just reiterate that lovely trip shall we? That... Horrible, ugly abomination that lunatic has the audacity to associate with the name 'Jailbot' puts on this gaudy light-show," He twirled his wrist in the air for emphasis.

"Then out of nowhere he pulls up Howl and that Captain- and let me tell you I sure do feel sorry that guy. Oh! And not to mention I was forcedto watch that scrawny, know-it-all Interrogator melt the poor guy's brain like it was nothing and-"

Jared held up his hand to stop him.

"I know you'll be the first to disagree, I've never really considered myself to be petty, sir, but I have always wanted to say this to you; I told you so."

The tiny, empowered man folded his arms smugly across his chest. He smirked again, his eye glinting with a satisfaction he'd been saving up for quite some time.

The Warden tensed in his chair, grinding his teeth as he tried to regain control of his anger. Not Jared too, he thought. He'd had quite enough scolding for one day.

"As for MissHowl," Jared continued, furrowing his brow. "She's not had it easy here either."

"So what! She didn't have to scream at me about it! I don't know how he... Ican put up with that!"

"She's useful." Jared replied, pulling out a fresh cigar. He chewed on the end of it for a moment before tearing it off with his teeth, discarding the crumpled piece in his ashtray. He decided to wait a moment to light it, not wanting to endure the complaints of his commander's counterpart.

"I'll admit she gets carried away, but like most people associated with you; she is well within her right to be as cross as she is."

"And what exactly is thatsupposed to mean, Jared?" The Warden matched his posture, folded arms, crossed legs and a deepened brow.

"I'm trying to take over the world right? Well useful or not I don't think there's much room for a mouthy, disobedient woman in myarmy."

"She didn't ask for the job, Warden, you gave it to her." Jared paused, letting him consider this information, dispute knowing he most likely wouldn't.

"You know she was captured, right? It was sheer coincidence you just happened to pick her for 'Dissection', and she just happened to be able to possess the power she's got."

"'Dissection'?" The Warden repeated, his curiosity piqued.

Jared took this opportunity to light his cigar, taking a long and relaxing drag, expelling it's relief into the air aside him.

"Our cells were overcrowded from the civilian attacks, and the insurgents had yet to form the alliances they have now against us. There was time to spare before the next likely retaliations so the Doctor decided to have a little... Err, 'fun'. Not only to make room, but to test some of our newest weapons and such."

"And Howl-"

"Miss Howl survived her torture. It was torture, Warden. She demonstrated her ability in order to save herself, and it worked. Give her some credit, she might be mouthy but we, youwould not be as far as you are now without her."

The Warden sank back, absorbing Jared's words much to his instinctive protesting. Though he was, without any hesitation, a care-free, does-just-as-he-pleases-when-he-pleases soul, the Warden was not incapable of seeing reason; though he chose to ignore it most of the time. He had to admit that before their spat, he would have sided with Penna or anyone for that matter against his future-self. Even now he still resented the man.

He sighed, feeling a dim tug of guilt poking away at his conscious. Shaking his head to be rid of it, his eye caught a shade of deep red and royal blue passing by on a monitor above Jared's head. The view of a rooftop splayed out, underneath blinked it's label, 'F37 -CAMERA 37L'

His options were set in front of him. He could just sit here and sulk, though the smell of Jared's cigar was beginning to add to the headache he could feel coming on, or he could go back to his room and mess around with his machine. The realization of lacking replacement parts dampened his wanting to continue but how else was he supposed to get out of here? Figuring out what exactly went wrong isa start after all.

As Jared poured out another cloud of smoke from his nostrils, the Warden stood and made his way for the door.

It took him a good minute to find the lift again, but as he did he wasted no time in calling it. The doors opened the instant the code was entered and he stepped inside. Now he just had to remember which floor his room was on.

As he looked over the rows of black, numbered buttons his eyes stopped at two digits. Thirty-seven. His finger absentmindedly pushed down the little dot, the hum of the elevator bringing him out of his trance. He sighed again, tapping his foot. He might as well get thisover with too.

The lift halted after a few moments, allowing the Warden to cautiously step out into the hallway. He found this floor was not at all to his liking, though it had a very familiar feel to it.

The gray, metal walls bore a few new, a few rusted bolts their panels. The distant dripping of leaky pipes and the distinct smell of stagnant water hung in the stuffy air. He felt like he was walking into one of his cells. He noticed the steel doors had letters on them, much like the bolts, some were new and some were weathered.

It seemed now that he was being guided by something only his subconscious was aware of. He knew he was looking for a particular door, he just couldn't remember which. He knew he had just seen it, he just wasn't able to recall...

"Aha! Here it is!" He cheered, quickly recoiling from his success with a sense of bewilderment.

The door with a chipped letter 'L' gave a weak groan of protest as he swung it open. He looked up, his head barely out of the doorway, trying to spot the camera he now remembered that had given this area away. It was positioned just above him, a stationary light blaring a dull red. It twisted and maneuvered as if to nod that he was in the right place.

Though this was the roof, it was not a spacious and open area at first. In fact, he had to grit his teeth force himself to step fully out of the door in order to peer around a wall blocking his view.

There she was, expressionless and sitting very, dangerously close to the edge. Her notebook and pen lay beside her, pages gently flipping and curling up in the barely-noticeable breeze. She had torn out a few clean sheets and had been, by the looks of it, copying down the notes she had already taken into a clearer and far easier to read version.

He opened his mouth to spit out his sudden and unrehearsed apology but found no sound came from him.

Penna glanced over her shoulder. Though she did not expect to see the younger Warden of all people, her face showed no sign of surprise at all.

"I can't decide if this means he wins or loses." Penna stated after a moment, her voice trailing off into a oddly curious tone. She lightly rocked her foot back and forth off the edge, it's swaying movements uneven and sloppy as if she'd released control of it.

The Warden didn't, couldn't respond to this. His instinct was to just scratch the back of his head and slink slowly away, far away from this disaster he'd found himself in.

"You're right," Penna replied to his blank stare. She seemed a little amused, yet angry and disappointed with herself that she'd say such a pitiful thing.

"It's only another win for him. And I can't allow that... Let me ask you something, Warden."

'Oh Lord, what now?' He thought, bracing himself for another barrage like before.

"Would you consider it- that, murder?"

He wasn't expecting that. Or maybe he was; perhaps he wasn't expecting the lack of shock her inquiry inspired.

"Uh, well," He began, once again having trouble finding his words. He wasn't used to not having anything to say in response.

Being well versed in murder of every shade, as his line of work so beautifully provided him, it took him a painful moment of consideration before he could give her an answer.

Penna interrupted him just as his train of thought began to run as smooth as it could under the circumstances.

"Think about it, they, what makes them themis destroyed. Then it's replaced with something entirely different. Whatever made them the person they were is gone forever. Isn't that the same as killing?"

'Kind of, I suppose.'He thought, though he figured voicing his honest opinion wouldn't help any. He shook his head, forcing a serious expression.

"Well, not if they survive, right?" He shrugged, heaving a chuckle. Judging by that solemn expression of hers, the same one she wore as she dealt with the Captain, he figured that she wasn't really looking for an answer; she already knew it and his hesitation only provided her with more evidence.

The Warden frantically searched his mind for a change of subject.

"So, uh... What are you doing out here?"

Penna looked at him, puzzled. Was this his attempt at an apology? She laughed in her mind at the thought.

"I'm doing what any normal person would do after something like that. What's it called... 'Reflecting'."

For a reason or two he could not explain, he was relieved to hear her sharp sarcasm return.

She patted the patch of concrete next to her, the side of herself her notebook didn't occupy, offering him a seat. He hesitated to take it, and only did so keeping a fair distance between them.

"What were you doing before...y'know?" He figured he should try and say something to take their minds, more so his than hers, off of what had just occurred.

He felt a twinge of regret, realizing that asking this, especially now after her 'Am I really a murderer' lamentation, was probably not the best subject for after an obviously-failed attempt at small-talk.

"Before this lovely adventure?" Penna scoffed, tossing her hands in the air. She pulled out her pen to examine it, giving herself an excuse not to look him in the eye.

"I was...Living. I had a life. I had a job. Kept my head down and minded my own."

"Oh, a job? What line of work were you in?" His enthusiastic smile could not cover up the intensive and quite obvious uneasy feeling beginning to cloud him.

Penna scoffed again, much softer this time. She knew what he was trying to do, and though she did appreciate his efforts to clear the air between them, she couldn't force herself to appear thankful.

"Well, I say 'job' but, it didn't earn much money. I worked for my mother for the most part." She finished toying with her pen, feeling a little more confident now. She heaved herself back from the edge and used her arms to brace herself as she leaned against the cool, concreted wall.

"She ran this in-home, palm-reading clinic. Again, I say'clinic' but..." She trailed off into a low, snide, snicker. She paused. She knew what he was wanting to get at, and if it would hasten this conversation between them even the slightest bit more, she might as well jump right to it.

"I've been able to do this," She lazily gestured from her head to her notebook, melancholy-ridden with every word.

"Since I can remember. But never as good as her. Not even now." Her saddened-smile returned. In truth, she was glad she couldn't compare herself to her mother. She didn't feel as though she deserved the honor.

"Oh! So, are there others like you then?" He'd managed to continue his feigned tone of interest, though it sounded far more exaggerated than sincere.

Penna cringed a little, playing it off with another soft chuckle. Either he didn't know the harm that phrase actually caused, or he was even more fiendishly clever than he let on. She had to remind herself that those two in their own aspects were and weren't the same person. When her employer had asked that question, it had been riddled with disgusted accusations.

"We never really talked about it. It was always this sort of unspoken understanding; it was best not to go on about it. I can't say I haven't wondered; but my mother wasn't bothered by it and eventually, neither was I." She shrugged.

"She always had this look about her; she could tell what it was you were thinking, even before the thought crossed your mind. She wasn't...manipulative, no. Nor unkind. She was a good mom, she did the best with what she had."

The Warden listened quietly, now having fully regretted asking. He wasn't good with this sort of thing; empathy wasn't an emotion he was used to possessing, or expressing for that matter. He was highly uncomfortable in this situation and longed for the first opportunity to sprint out of it.

"W-Well, I'm sure she'd be proud of you putting it to..err, good use?" What on earth was he suppose to say to her? Wasn't it just a minute ago he was condemning her to Jared?

Penna looked up. She slowly turned her head toward him, her usual sarcastically-irritated demeanor had replaced her previous distant expression. She stared at him, her mouth slightly agape in disbelief of what she'd just heard.

"What?" He asked, returning her gaze with his own confused look. He began to lean away, as if he could hide through the wall, away from the awkwardness that hung above them.

"I'm waiting for the punchline."

"Um..."

Penna rose, silently picking up her pen and notebook. She looked at the cemented edge once more, marveling at the distance between themselves and the ground below. For a moment she felt as though her entire weight had lifted, and even the slightest breeze could have drifted her away.

"I think I'd better go check on David."

"Who?"

"David? You know, the Captain. Didn't you see him?"

"No, no I didn't."

"Oh, well, he's alive.I succeeded." She mimicked as best she could his future-counterpart's voice and mannerisms. The Warden found her impression of him to be a little humorous, chuckling uneasily along.

For a moment the apprehension, the tension and awkwardness in the atmosphere seemed to disappear. Though it didn't remain as such for long as the two took notice of it's absence, fumbling about and clearing their throats.

The Warden stood, both patting themselves off, abiding by the not-entirely illusion of reconciliation they'd just created.

Penna breathed a little sigh of relief inside herself as reached the door. She didn't look back as she twisted the knob, she didn't feel the need to.

Something else was troubling her however, though anyone would have assumed her mind was still set on the latter conversation. Ever since she'd found out about the Resistance-Capital's call for reinforcements, and seen their precise plans as far as the former-Daniel's mind had provided her, she began to formulate her own plan. She'd taken great care to neglect including this information in her notes, this was the first step and the only one she had any control over. The rest would just have to play out accordingly on it's own. She was more than content with the consequences if her fleeting fancy backfired.