This is a long one, but pretty much the end of the climax. Also, Warning: Violence and death (Promise, last one, but if you could handle the novels, you can handle this.)

XXXX

Nezumi's mind was racing, desperately combing through his options. They would arrive at the Correctional Facility soon, and he had until then to come up with a strategy for escape.

There wasn't much he could do with such a large armed entourage, especially when he was bound and disarmed. He wasn't completely without resources, though. He still had the drive and Tsukiyo. If he could orchestrate a way to release the mouse into the Facility, it could do all the sabotaging for him. Nezumi would just have to try and stay alive while the virus took effect.

Not exactly a failsafe plan.

And there was still the issue of a safe escape. Imprisonment wasn't a problem, since the virus would open all the doors, but the officers had guns, and there would be other prisoners running amuck in the Correctional Facility. Even though most were probably innocent victims, it was likely that some of the inmates deserved to be locked up.

Nezumi didn't even know if he would be imprisoned. He had no idea what they intended to do with him in the Correctional Facility.

It's not even me they're after. It's Elyurias.

They only needed him because he was connected to Her.

Except, he wasn't. Not anymore.

Nezumi glanced out the back window, but the only thing he could see was the West Block dwindling in the distance. How much did they know about Elyurias' effect on the human body? Would they be able to tell that the connection had been severed? Nezumi thought about his bleached hair. I should have dyed it when I had the chance.

The sound of the explosion rocked through the car. Nezumi clenched his teeth and tried not to feel anything. Black smoke billowed out above the spires of West Block. It did not escape Nezumi that this was the second time he'd been apprehended by the Security Bureau and an explosion followed—but this time there would be no violent rescues.

"Tsukiyo."

Nezumi kept his voice low, despite being the only one in the back of the van. The back was spacious, far too large for one person. He remembered the night he first learned about the Hunt, when Kaze and Shion had told him that it was typical of No. 6 to take hordes of people back to Correctional Facility. It was likely this vehicle was designed for such purposes.

It was unwise of the officers to have left him unsupervised. Though, he supposed they did so because they thought they had already won. They would pay for that.

The black mouse leapt out of the superfibre about Nezumi's neck and cheeped. Nezumi rubbed the top of its head with the tip of his finger. "I have a job for you."

Tsukiyo squeaked louder, as though exclaiming his eagerness for the task. Quietly, he briefed the mouse on his mission, pulling the drive out of his boot to show it. There was a time when Nezumi would've called himself crazy for giving instructions to a mouse and expecting it to understand, but he had spent enough hours with Shion's mice to know that they were not ordinary. Tsukiyo had helped him with the computer parts before and Nezumi had no doubt that the mouse would understand what he was asking of it.

When he finished explaining, Tsukiyo took the drive from his hand and burrowed into his boot. Nezumi scrunched his nose at the sensation.

That took care of it, then. There was nothing else to do.

Unless… Nezumi frowned thoughtfully. Any chances Elyurias would agree to assist him were negligible. He had burned that bridge pretty thoroughly the last time they'd spoken. Then again, She was hell bent on destroying No. 6, so perhaps She would be willing to sacrifice pride for that purpose, provided he could do the same in asking Her.

But did he even want Elyurias' help?

Her help always came with strings attached, and ones She had meant to hang him with. The longer he thought about it, though, he could see more pros than cons in the arrangement. Elyurias had no power over him now, and having someone on his side that could eliminate his enemies through sheer willpower was definitely an asset. It was worth a shot.

Elyurias.

No answer. He tried singing the first verse of the Singer's song, but the air around him didn't so much as stir. The only thing he could feel was the rumble of the van rolling over the bumpy terrain. He waited a little, called out mentally a few more times, but it was silent but for his own thoughts. If She could hear him, She wasn't going to respond. He would receive no assistance from Elyurias.

At least She's consistent, he thought wryly. Although…

Even if Elyurias wouldn't help him, She could still be of use. It was a crazy idea, but it was odd enough that it might be worth the chance. Tsukiyo poked his head out of Nezumi's boot and chittered for attention. Nezumi was too busy in getting into character to have heard.

A few minutes later the van slowed to a stop. The doors swung open and Nezumi was coaxed quietly out. Rashi watched him wriggle to his feet with amusement. Nezumi's plan required that he remain serene and impartial, and he managed to be so outwardly, but inside he was imagining all a manner of grisly scenarios involving the officer.

The Correctional Facility loomed over them. It was a gray structure composed of several large rectangles stacked one on top of the other. The style was disjointed, like a massive upended spider. It made Nezumi uncomfortable just to look at it. Nothing that went on in that monstrosity of a building could be good.

His handlers watched him closely, but after a few minutes of staring threats at his profile they relaxed some. They seemed relieved that Nezumi had grown more sedate during the car ride. They rewarded him by releasing their vice grips on his arms. Rashi took his new freedom as an opportunity to give him a little shove as they stepped through the doors of the Facility. Too much time must have passed between his last display of pointless cruelty.

No prisoner who had stepped foot in the Correctional Facility had ever been seen again, and Nezumi was morbidly curious about whether the building's interior would somehow reflect the evils rumored to happen within its walls. Unfortunately, remaining in character required looking haughty and uninterested in his surroundings, so Nezumi didn't have the freedom to look around. But from what he could tell, the design and décor were nondescript: a regular corporate layout with office cubes, obscenely bright lighting, and white walls. Then again, it would be in poor taste to cage and experiment on prisoners in plain sight.

As he was dragged down several clinical hallways, he caught glimpses of people in lab coats, and computer rooms. He had been pulled past three computer rooms before he felt Tsukiyo wriggling in his boot. Nezumi fought the feeling of discomfort from showing on his face and walked steadily between his escorts, even as he was keenly aware of the mouse slipping out. He wasn't able to see where Tsukiyo scurried off to, but he didn't hear any gasps or screams, so he assumed the mouse had not been spotted.

It's up to you now, he thought grimly. The drive better work.

Nezumi quickly smothered the doubt. The drive would work.

The officers steered him out a security door into another maze of white hallways, and Rashi held up a hand for them to stop.

"That will be all, boys. You're dismissed."

The two officers didn't question him or even hesitate. They promptly turned around and went back out the way they came. Typical No. 6 citizens; not a curious bone in their bodies.

Rashi turned his dark eyes on Nezumi. "Where you're going is need-to-know. The higher-ups have been waiting a long time for this moment, so they wanted it to be as… private as possible. They mean to take their time now that they've got you."

Nezumi understood that the man meant to unnerve him. It wasn't working. He fixed Rashi with his loftiest look. "I've been waiting just as long to meet with these higher-ups of yours. You are not leading me towards any doom I have not already anticipated."

Nezumi could imagine no greater pleasure than seeing the look of bewilderment on Rashi's face at his detached tone and stilted language. Having once been on the receiving end of it, he knew just how quickly the pompous diction perplexed and aggravated its listener. He hoped the officer would continue to taunt him, so he could continue to answer in such a manner. It would be welcome practice for the performance ahead.

Unfortunately, Rashi brushed the confusion off and led him down the hall. He stopped and stood expectantly in front of the wall at the end of it. Nezumi didn't understand what was so interesting at first, but then a harder look at the wall revealed that there was a rectangle of space that was a slightly lighter shade than the rest.

A door, Nezumi realized. There were no protrusions that would alert the ordinary passerby to its existence. Only those who already knew it was there were likely to notice the subtle difference in the color of the wall. A moment later there was a faint mechanical creak and the doors slid open.

An elevator? It must react to some special ID chip. Good thing I won't need to open any doors on my way down.

The entire back wall of the elevator was a mirror, and in it Nezumi could see his reflection staring calmly back at him. He was a little disheveled, but no less striking for it. The bright lights glared off his white hair and bleached his skin, making his eyes look dark in comparison. Nezumi raised his chin a little, checking the aloofness of his expression.

Good, he muttered internally. I look good for it.

They stepped into the elevator and the doors slid quietly shut around them. The inside was as smooth and unmarked as the outside. The lights glittered off its pristine surfaces, cold and completely sterile. A faint unease stirred in the pit of Nezumi's stomach. He had no idea what lay waiting for him on the floor above.

The doors opened onto a glossy black hallway. Nezumi stepped out and the temperature seemed to drop ten degrees. There were three doors before him, evenly spaced and unremarkable. Nezumi wondered which was the one he would be entering, and what the others kept behind them.

Wolves or tigers, perhaps? The flash of humor was just that—a flash. A weightiness settled in its wake.

"This way," Rashi hummed. He ignored the doors and turned down the hallway, heading straight for the wall again.

Another hidden doorway?

The wall split in two when Rashi was a few feet from it, revealing a crimson door. Nezumi's skin prickled. Every nerve in his body sang with warning and it was all he could do not to bolt. Something horrible lay beyond the crimson door, something he did not want to see. But it was too late to turn back now. The momentum leading up to this moment had been building too long, and there was no way to stop it.

Rashi paused in front of the door, a slight frown tugging at his mouth. It didn't look like he was too keen on whatever was beyond either. He glanced down at Nezumi and forced a droll smile.

"Let's take a look at what you have to look forward to, shall we?" Rashi placed a hand on the door and it swung open.

Nezumi would've blown his cover right then, if his voice didn't get stuck in his throat. The room was lined with rows of transparent columns, filled with clear liquid, and inside every one of them floated a brain. The brains were attached to numerous tubes, which anchored them to the base of the pillars.

What the hell is this?

But a second later the answer came to him. This was No. 6's attempt at recreating the Godly Bed; this was proof of the experiments that he and the Resistance members had theorized about. And then a second realization hit him: this was how every Hunt ended. Nezumi clenched his teeth so hard his jaw cracked.

No wonder no one was ever seen again.

He knew Rashi would be watching him closely, to savor the shock and panic that the horrific display was apt to inspire. Nezumi would not give him the satisfaction, but he did allow a little of his revulsion to show through. Elyurias might pupate in brain tissue, but She would be disgusted that No. 6 was arrogant enough to try and manufacture Her on a mass scale. They'd destroyed Her home and made a mockery of Her existence, and all they had to show for it was an assembly line of wasted lives and failed product.

"Who is responsible for this?" Nezumi demanded of Rashi, pushing all his outrage into a low hiss.

Rashi opened his mouth to reply, but then the far wall opened up and in swept a man in a white lab coat. He was tall and gaunt looking, even from a distance, and he had stringy white hair. When the man paused several feet away Nezumi could discern several more important characteristics: the man looked to be somewhere in his mid-forties, old, but not old enough for hair that white. Nezumi swallowed. He could make out red scar bands on the man's face, one around his chin and another slicing its way up under the gauze bandage he was wearing over his left eye.

It was a bad sign. The man in the lab coat must know that something went wrong with Elyurias—how could he not, being a victim of the same physical changes?

My job just got a little more complicated.

The lab-coated man gaped at him. "No…"

The man rushed forward and Nezumi couldn't help but take an instinctive step back.

"No. No," he hissed under his breath. He circled around Nezumi, a hand pressed hard against his mouth, groaning. "Your hair. Oh… Oh no. All that time, all that planning, and you… What did you do?" He jerked to a stop in front of him. "It was you. You had Her, didn't you? I knew it! I knew it had to be you. You were perfect from the start: the right heritage, meticulous upbringing, strong, healthy, young… There was no way She could resist taking you as host." His voice grew into an agonized whine. "I had Her! What did you do? What did you do to Elyurias?"

Man, is this guy a prize. If these are the people running No. 6 behind the scenes, it's no wonder the city is fucked up.

Nezumi tipped his head, a wry smile floating to his lips. "How foolish you sound. This boy is no more capable of harming me than you are of owning my existence."

The crazed man was just as baffled as Rashi had been when he heard the superior voice issue from his mouth. This time, though, he had to drive his point home. Nezumi searched his mind for the right words.

"A power as vast as mine is beyond all comprehension. It cannot be created or bent to one's will, especially not by a race as weak and flawed as humanity. I answer to no one."

There was a brief silence. Nezumi was scowling inwardly. That wasn't quite right. He would have to do better than that.

The man seemed to catch on at least. "You claim to be Elyurias?"

Rashi made an incredulous noise, but Nezumi ignored him. He gazed steadily at the man before him.

"I do not answer to any one name. I simply am."

There. That sounds just annoying and vague enough to be Her.

"Preposterous," the man muttered, scrunching his face up.

Nezumi kept his eyes trained on him. This man wanted Elyurias desperately, and that meant he would be more willing to believe the impossible. He had already lost Elyurias once, and if there were even the slightest possibility that Nezumi was legitimate, he wouldn't want it to go unchecked.

The lines in the man's face deepened as he frowned. "It's not possible. My experiment was ruined. All the larvae hatched prematurely. That would only occur if something happened to Elyurias or damaged the Godly Bed."

"You are arrogant. You do not control me, nor you do you control my children"—were they Her children?—"I released them to show you your impotence. And to serve as a warning."

The man in the lab coat narrowed his eye. "A warning of what?"

"Your demise."

"You plan to destroy us?" The man in the white lab coat looked incredulous. "If you planned on that, why did you wait so long? And why not kill all of those infected with the larvae? Surely one of your capabilities could do so." He seemed almost excited about the prospect, despite his doubt as to the veracity of Nezumi's claims—and despite the fact that he would've been one of the casualties if Elyurias had used Her powers to cull the infected No. 6 citizens.

"I was not ready until recently," Nezumi drawled. He let his gaze wander disinterestedly at this point. Staring too long at the man unnerved him. "Resources in the West Block were not ideal, and my host was not cooperative.

"It was always my design to come here. No. 6 has grown conceited. You have been allowed to pollute this land for too long. You must be eliminated. You have made the execution of my plan very easy. You gave me form. And you," he cocked his head slowly to peer at Rashi, "guided me safely to the source."

The lab-coated man wet his lips. There was a steadily growing hunger in his eyes. This should have made Nezumi glad, since it meant he was convincing enough to buy himself some time, but it only made his stomach clench. The man began to pace, his white lab coat swishing restlessly behind him.

"Well, if what you say is true… Yes, I think there's a way we can figure it out for sure," he muttered. "The Mother would know." He glanced at Nezumi, an odd smile tugging at his lips. "I'll just have to hook you up and see, won't I?"

Like hell I'm going to let you touch me. I have no desire to be a brain in a jar, thank you.

"I do not intend to be hooked up to any of your machines. But I will consent to an audience before I rid this land of your infection. A private audience." He turned another haughty look on Rashi. The officer was smirking at him, and Nezumi knew he hadn't sold the room with his performance.

The lab coat stilled as the man drew to a halt. "Why would I agree to that? If you are who you say you are, I'll need protection."

Nezumi sneered. "Your fears are unnecessary. My vessel is only a child, and he has no weapons. He cannot harm you, and if I wish to harm you, this…" he paused to scrutinize Rashi with cold distain, "soldier would not be able to stop me. If you wish for us to speak, it must be alone."

"Hm…" The man tilted his head in deliberation. "True. Rashi, you are dismissed."

That wiped the shit-eating grin off Rashi's face.

"Sir, I think that would be unwise. You can't possibly believe this boy's Elyurias. It's absurd."

"It is absurd," the man consented, "but if there's a chance I can salvage my experiment, I'm willing to suspend my disbelief. Even if he is lying, I've always wondered what made the Forest people so special." Nezumi went cold under the ravenous look on the man's face. "At the very least, I can open him up to see how he ticks."

Fuck. Maybe being alone with this guy isn't the best idea.

But it was the only chance he had at controlling the situation. Besides, it wasn't like Rashi was going to stop a live autopsy from happening if he stayed.

What's taking Tsukiyo so long?

The man in the lab coat took a step towards Nezumi. "Come," he coaxed. "Let me introduce you to the Mother."

Nezumi sidestepped his groping hands with a look of affront. The man hummed with an odd little smile.

"I will go nowhere with you until you remove the boy's restraints." Nezumi dipped his head to indicate the handcuffs.

"Sir," Rashi said lowly.

The man waved off Rashi's warning and held his tight-lipped smile. "I will free you from your bonds, but only when I see fit. You must forgive us humans for being such fearful and suspicious creatures. Never fear, I wouldn't dream of harming Elyurias."

Nezumi didn't miss the conditional tone.

The man approached Rashi and prompted him for the cuffs remote. The Bureau officer bristled, but handed it over.

"Come now." The man in the lab coat turned back the way he had come.

Nezumi felt Rashi's scowl on his back the entire walk down the corridor of brains. He tried not to look at them, but he could see the tubes in the columns pulsing blue and white in the corners of his vision.

The far wall opened on a stark white, brightly lit room. There was not an inch of space that wasn't illuminated, and there was nothing in it except a thick column. The upper half of the structure was transparent, and inside Nezumi could see a silver sphere with numerous flashing projections. It was something like a spiny disco ball, blinking reds and blues of many shades. Thready, clear tubes sprouted from some of the projections, looping upwards in a tangled mass until they disappeared into darkness. A clear control panel was fitted to the front of the column with unmarked white keys.

Like everything else in the building, the structure was a hideous monstrosity.

"She's beautiful, is she not?" crooned the man in the lab coat. "There's nothing else like her in the world; the Grandmother in the Moondrop doesn't even come close. And she only responds to me."

He oozed pride. Nezumi smothered a caustic retort and looked instead for a weapon or some other means of putting this creep out of commission. Unfortunately, there was nothing but them and the computer.

If I can get close enough, I can strangle him with the cuff wire… He wasn't thrilled with the prospect, but he wouldn't hold back if the opportunity presented itself.

"I'm happy Elyurias chose you."

Nezumi whipped his attention back to the man. His unbandaged eye was sharp and glittering as he surveyed him from a few feet away. If not for those dark, penetrating eyes the man would be almost indistinguishable from the walls. He was wearing more white than any other color, and the bright lights bleached his skin so that he looked like some ghoulish specter.

"You were always my favorite specimen." Nezumi's skin crawled. There were actually traces of adoration in the man's voice. "Young, spirited… I always knew you would flourish under the treatment. And you've performed brilliantly, even though you were in adverse conditions in the West Block. When did you realize you were host to Elyurias?"

"I do not care for your tone or the topic of this conversation," Nezumi seethed.

The man's lips curled up, showing the slightest bit of teeth. "You can stop pretending now. I know you're not Elyurias. But I wanted to be alone with you, too. To chat. I've wondered so long about the Forest People. I regret now that we destroyed them all before I was able to do a proper study. It was a stroke of luck that we found your parents hiding within the city. I should have taken them in for tests as well…"

The man's words flowed without pause, each filthier than the last. Nezumi was having trouble thinking, paralyzed as he was by hatred and disgust. His instinct to stay as far away from this sadistic bastard as possible was mercilessly at war with the urge to rip him limb from limb.

"How did you get rid of Elyurias? Did She obey you because you're a descendant of Her followers? The white hair looks good on you, by the way—you're even more beautiful than before. Do you have a scar, too?"

He looked like he wanted to approach, and Nezumi watched him coolly in case he did. They stared each other down, and in that moment each was the predator and the prey.

"I'd like to get to know you better," said the man.

"Why don't you come a little closer, then?"

"Ah. You are angry." He chuckled. "Lovely. I want to study every aspect of you, good and bad. But I can't have you trying to kill me at this juncture, so…" The man reached into his pocket. Nezumi's heart sank, expecting him to have a gun. Instead, the man pulled the cuffs remote out and clicked it.

It turned out this was far worse than a gun.

Nezumi's wrists jolted with pain, and then the twinge of electrical current spread rapidly from the contact points, up his arms, all throughout his body, and down into the toes of his boots. Suddenly, his limbs felt like lead, and he had to lean a little on the back wall in order not to topple over.

"A little nerve stimulant to keep you compliant." The man in the lab coat grinned. "Elyurias wouldn't have been fooled by the trick cuffs."

"You're a fucking freak." At least his mouth still worked.

The man was undaunted, and reached into his other pocket. This time his hand came out with a syringe. "Very sorry, but I'm going to have to transfer you now."

Shit. Shit. Tsukiyo, what the hell is taking so long?

The man in the lab coat took a menacing step forward. The control panel on the Mother lit up without warning. The man jolted backward as a horrible blaring filled the room.

Emergency alert. Emergency alert.

Level 5, Level 5.

Emergency evacuation. Emergency evacuation.

"That's not possible," the man gawked, looking back and forth between the flashing lights. "Why are all the programs launching!"

The burst of relief that raced though Nezumi's veins was dizzying. He full on smirked. "Game over, old man."

XXXX

There wasn't a soul in sight when Safu pulled up to the loading station. Logically speaking, this was no cause for alarm. What sane person would try to get into the Correctional Facility? There was little reason why No. 6 would try to safeguard this entrance, but Safu still felt a sense of foreboding at the lack of human presence.

She cut the engine and slipped out of the car, adjusting her gun so that it was more readily available. She would need to be vigilant and unhesitating from this moment forward if she planned to get herself and Shion in—and out—of the building alive. Shion was already stalking toward the door into the building.

His sinister mood had not dissipated. The ride over had been a slow torture of anxious silence that built with each mile. Shion had been simmering a long time, and she knew he must be close to boiling point now. Even she felt packed with restless energy. Safu locked the car, shoved the keys into her coat, and trotted to catch up with Shion.

The door had a keypad, but they tried it anyway. To her surprise, it was unlocked. Even Shion broke his impassive demeanor long enough to raise an eyebrow at the laxness of security.

I have a bad feeling.

It's not that she thought it was a trap. There was no reason for anyone in the Correctional Facility to suspect an attack. But the whole situation had Safu on edge.

Shion creaked the door open and they crept inside, guns at the ready. The room was small. There was a monitoring booth to the right and a few cleaning robots in the corner. The trash chute they had speculated about was at the far end, spilling garbage into a bin. The security in this part of the Facility was even more negligent than they had guessed; a quick sweep of the room revealed that there were no alarms or security cameras.

There was a single woman in the room, shoveling trash onto a conveyor belt so it could be disposed of in the incinerator. Her back was to them, and she had a pair of ear buds that were blasting music loud enough to be heard from where Shion and Safu were standing, so she had yet to realize their intrusion. Safu couldn't believe their good luck.

Shion did not make any attempt to sneak up on the woman. He strode forward, quick and sure, and poked her in the back with the muzzle of his gun. Safu flinched nearly as hard as the woman.

The worker whirled around and gasped, her mouth forming a perfect startled O. She didn't scream, and Safu wondered if she had lost her voice from shock, or if she had enough wits to stay quiet in the face of a firearm.

Shion nodded at the door into the Correctional Facility. "Open it."

Her eyes darted to where he indicated. "I—I can't." Shion narrowed his eyes and the woman choked, "No, really, I can't! There's no button to open the door from this side. I can only come in if they let me. Please, don't hurt me." The woman looked pleadingly at Safu, as if appealing to their shared gender would make her more liable to pity.

Safu did pity her. This woman was no mastermind or murderer; she was just the lady who shoveled the trash.

"Let her go, Shion. She can't help us."

Shion frowned. "We can't just let her go. She could alert the officers."

"No, I won't," the woman blurted. "I won't say a thing, I swear. I've got no one to tell. They won't even let me in the building, like I said." She tried to smile, but it was too watery with fear to look anything like one.

Shion considered her for a moment. "You left the door unlocked. We were able to get in because of your carelessness. If you went to the Security Bureau and they found out the intruders got into the building because you didn't lock up properly, how do you think they'd react?"

Any color remaining in the woman's face evaporated at the mention of the Security Bureau.

"Do you have a car here?"

The woman nodded stiffly.

"Get in it and drive away. If I see you come back, I won't hesitate to shoot. I doubt you'd get off so leniently with the Security Bureau."

The woman fled so fast, she didn't even bother to shut off the power shovel she was using. Safu flipped the switch on it and peered at Shion out of the corner of her eye. He was fiddling with his gun. Safu was a little relieved that he had used logical manipulation on the waste disposal worker over a bald-faced threat. Shion may have gone off the deep end, but he hadn't lost his wits, and he was still liable to use more nuanced tactics before resorting to violence. There was some kind of reassurance in this.

Only the people inside the building are not going to be as harmless as that woman. It'll be split decisions from now on. Safu checked her gun. Not enough shells to cover Shion in the firefight to come. She would need to pick up another gun almost immediately once they got inside.

Shion and Safu approached the trash chute to inspect it. They had proposed it as a possible entrance into the Facility, and now that they knew the door would not open from their end, it was practically their last hope for a quiet infiltration. The inside wall of the chute sloped sharply upwards, and the metal was sleek.

There's no way we can climb this, Safu realized with a pang.

Shion slammed his fist against the side of the chute. "Dammit!"

"Shion…"

"Why is it that every time someone needs me, I can't do anything?" He hit the side of the chute again. "I'm sick of it! I'm tired of being so goddamn powerless!"

Safu knotted her fists in her coat. "We'll figure something out."

"Figure what out? There's nowhere to go."

Shion spread his arms out to show off the expanse of the room. She didn't need to look to know everything was sealed tight. There was no way to go but back outside. They couldn't even shoot the door's lock out; there was no doorknob or lock to be seen. Safu found herself thinking a little angrily of how little the employees inside the Correctional Facility must think of the waste disposal worker.

Everything and everyone outside the building is trash to those inside, it seems.

Shion dropped his arms and dragged his fingers through his bangs. "Nezumi's just beyond this door, and I might never see him again…"

A buzzer blared.

The sound was not particularly loud or frightening, but Safu and Shion started. They both turned to the door that led into the Correctional Facility. There was a light above the door that they hadn't noticed when they came in, but it was now blinking with a gold light.

And then the door began to roll up. Safu's mouth was dry as she watched it retract all the way, revealing a pristine white hallway beyond. She could hear loud, frantic voices from somewhere not too far down the hall. She glanced at Shion. He had an odd look on his face, a mixture of hope and suspicion.

"Come on." Shion raised his gun and took a step toward the voices.

A few silent steps into the hall and Safu started to make out words in the frenzied buzz of conversation.

"I don't know! The computers are going berserk! Everything is turning on."

"The prisoners on the fourth floor are loose!"

"Oh God… We need to—"

An emergency evacuation warning drowned out the next few seconds of conversation.

It worked. Nezumi's drive worked.

How he managed to get the drive into the system she couldn't guess, but it appeared to be doing its job perfectly. They crept up to a slightly ajar door and peered into what looked like a monitoring room. The employees were in chaos, darting back and forth between the computers and babbling aloud.

"Did you hear that? Level 5, it said! We have to evacuate right now."

"I need to get my things from the locker."

They scrambled every which way to gather their belongings. Safu slipped by the door and waved Shion forward. These people were likely to flee out the way they came in and it'd be better to disappear down the hallway before they did so. They passed by several other rooms as they padded down the corridor, all without incident. The No. 6 citizens were too absorbed with their individual meltdowns to be worried about intruders or even about the alarm's constant call for immediate evacuation. Safu would've scoffed at their antics, if she weren't so terrified that they would run into an armed officer any moment now.

Maybe the officers will be flustered, too, she thought without assurance.

As they edged toward a turn, Shion moved to take the lead. Safu knew there was more tactical advantage if he was in front—his gun was much faster and more powerful than hers—but she quailed at putting him directly in the line of fire.

There were stairs around the corner, and they raced up, their shadows flickering against the wall among the flashes of the orange emergency lights. When they reached the top, they stumbled upon a livelier scene than the one below. People filled the hallway, moving in a ragged mass toward a door that Safu assumed must be some designated fire exit.

She and Shion had no chance of making their way through unnoticed. The guns were impossible to ignore, and they were a mess, smudged with soot and dirt from the fire. They were spotted immediately.

A portly man stared wide-eyed at them for but a second before squealing, "Intruders!"

Shion leered at him and the man squeaked and forced his way through the crowd to escape. The damage had been done. What had been a messy, but relatively civilized evacuation became a full on panic. People screamed and pushed, and the fire exits clogged with bodies. Safu and Shion held up their guns and tried to clear a path through threat of violence.

"Get down!" someone roared.

Safu didn't know what made her focus on this voice out of all the voices in the space, but she turned in its direction and spotted a man in a dark uniform. He stood out like a stain in the writhing sea of white lab coats. He locked eyes with her and raised his arm, pointing a beefy black handgun at her.

Is he insane? There are too many people! There was wall of bodies between them, two rows deep, but this man didn't seem to care about that.

Two quick gunshots cracked through the air like thunder. The officer spun and dropped out of sight, under the feet of the masses. Shrieks erupted, from those closest to the man, and from those standing near Shion.

Did both shots hit the officer? Safu couldn't tell, but no one else seemed to be wounded. Did Shion kill him? She didn't know. It had happened too fast. This was all happening too fast.

People scrambled out of their way, pressing against the walls where they had no chance of getting to the doors. It sickened Safu to see the raw fear in their eyes. She never liked No. 6, but she was different from the Resistance members who seethed with murderous intent towards the city. She had no particular desire to do its citizens harm.

And this scene… People screaming, cowering, running for their lives with tears streaming down their faces… It was all too familiar. How was this terror any different than what they had left behind in the West Block?

Shion led them up another staircase. This floor was less populated. Five officers were herding the last handful of people out the side doors. One yanked his gun out when he saw them coming. The other men quickly followed suit.

"You! Stop, or I'll—"

Shion loosed several rounds. The men fell, one by one, no match for the rapid fire of Shion's rifle. He didn't stop. He shot and kept going. Safu trailed behind him, glancing from victim to victim. Shots to the leg on one—not fatal; a spray of bullet holes in the stomach and upper torso of another—in need of immediate attention; she froze as she came upon the next man. Headshot. She averted her face and checked the other two. More leg and arm wounds.

Messy.

It was apparent Shion was firing haphazardly, with no sure intent to kill. He wanted the officers out of his way, and he didn't care whether that meant injured or dead.

He's not a killer. He's just… trying to get Nezumi.

Safu swallowed her fear and inched around the dead man to pry his handgun from his fingers. Bodies were a dime a dozen in West Block, especially in the winter, so she shouldn't have been squeamish, but it felt dirty to take from the dead. She was careful not to touch the body any more or longer than was necessary.

She was instantly glad she took the gun. Shion was peering around the corner, scanning for enemies ahead, but he was neglecting the ones he had left behind. One of the men wounded in the legs had pushed himself up and he aimed his gun at Shion's back.

Safu snapped her own gun up and fired. The bullet tore through the man's hand. He shouted and his weapon clattered to the floor. Shion whipped his head around and traded glances between the whimpering man and Safu.

"Thanks," he mumbled, so quietly she wondered if she had imagined it.

None of the other injured officers looked ready to retaliate, so Safu slunk to the corner.

"They must know we're here by now."

Shion nodded. "We need to be careful."

They snuck up the stairs, sticking to the wall and keeping low. The moment their heads crested the top stair a volley of bullets launched toward them. Safu dove down, and Shion flattened himself against the wall, a pained look on his face. For a moment, Safu feared he had been hit. But she couldn't see any wounds.

"Only two," Shion informed her. "But they have big guns."

Safu's heart sputtered. A shoot out of automatics. It would be a bloodbath.

Shion raised his rifle to return fire, but the next moment there was an eruption of screaming and cursing from above. She and Shion exchanged a look before they peeked over the top stair. The officers were on the floor, fighting frantically with a skinny man who had them pinned, and was clawing furiously at their faces.

And then the hall was suddenly flooded with people. Most were gaunt and wild-eyed, with stringy, unkempt hair. None wore shoes, but they all wore matching dark green shirts.

These must be the prisoners.

They roared with excitement as they stampeded into the hall.

"Freedom!"

"Escape!"

The mob stopped to cheer on the man scratching at the officers. A couple snatched at the officers' guns and tried to rip them from the men's grasps.

"Get them! Scratch their eyes out!"

"Kill them!"

One of the officers tore his arm away from the groping hands and fired his gun. A spray of blood hit the wall. A white-haired man crumpled to the floor. The prisoners backed away from the body, hissing and spitting like beasts. The officer tried to scramble away in the confusion. A young woman pounced on him with a feral snarl. She was foaming at the mouth, and the man howled as her teeth sunk into the exposed flesh of his arm.

"Shion, get over here, now."

Safu snatched Shion's coat sleeve and dragged him into the first room she saw. She swung the door closed behind them and crouched down so she would be out of sight if any came looking. She knew most of the prisoners in the Correctional Facility were hapless victims, whose only crime was speaking out against the city. But whatever had happened to them in this building had destroyed their minds. There was no reason in them now, and nothing to do but wait until they'd gone.

Several gunshots rang out. More screams and jeers. The clamor of footsteps.

"Shion, get over here and hide."

Shion didn't move. He was standing at the opposite end of the room, looking through a glass window.

"What… is this?"

His voice was barely a whisper, and Safu was shocked at the fear in it. It felt like it had been years since she had heard any trace of emotion in his voice. Carefully, she rose and walked to him. Shion's face was white as a sheet. Safu swallowed and turned her gaze to the window.

Two conveyor belts were running a floor below. There were humans on them. Bodies. Dozens of men, women, and children, of all ages, sizes, and ethnicities. The top halves of their heads had been sawed off and were capped with a clear dome. They rolled in a silent procession down the belt and into a half-moon shaped device, disappearing without a trace or sound.

This is what No. 6 was doing? This is their experiment? Safu's throat closed up. What kind of sick experiment is this?

"Samples," she heard Shion say. "For the Godly Bed."

Safu stared at him. What was he talking about?

"They're monsters." His voice was crisp and clear again, his eyes hard. "No human could do this."

"What—"

"Brains, Safu," he sneered. "They cut out their brains, and now they're disposing of the unnecessary parts."

Safu understood that at least. She felt like she was going to vomit. She covered her mouth and turned away from the window—and caught an officer trying to slip in behind them. He had the door open just enough to fit through and his gun was already half raised.

"Shion!"

Even while she screamed, she raised her own gun and pulled the trigger. Safu felt the white-hot bite of a bullet graze the top of her shoulder and heard the crash of glass shattering behind her, but her eyes were fixed on the officer. He careened backward and slid against the wall with a groan. Safu stood there, trembling, watching the dark bloom of blood flower in the center of his chest.

Shion went out into the hall and stood over the man. She thought she could see him breathing, it was slow and labored, but he was breathing. Shion kicked the gun from the officer's hand.

"It's clear. Let's move."

They ran. Rooms and people, stairs and hallways flitted before Safu's eyes, seen but hardly processed. The deafening report of guns, the too bright splatters of blood on the walls, on the floors—it all began to blur. The scenes played out like fragmented pieces of a tape, nauseating in their abruptness. The sprinkler system sprang to life as they skidded down the corridor of the sixth—seventh?—floor.

Everything was going so fast, and while she was struggling to keep up, Shion was matching pace—maybe even beating it. It seemed like the moment an officer appeared, Shion was already firing.

Is it self-defense if they're on the ground before they have time to raise their guns? They would hurt us if they had the chance. We can't hesitate. Rationalizing it didn't make the metallic taste in Safu's mouth go away.

Another officer fell, clutching his shredded hand. Blood seeped through his fingers and mingled with the water from the sprinklers, swirling in rivulets along the floor. Shion paused to replace his magazine.

"You've made quite a mess, haven't you?"

A broad shouldered man with a black buzz cut was sauntering down the hall, gun arm outstretched and a droll smile on his face. Safu knew immediately that this officer was different than the others. There was a seasoned atmosphere about him. This man knew violence. Safu trained her weapon on him to allow Shion the time to get his magazine inserted.

Unperturbed, the man continued to approach. "Neither of you have been wounded, either. Impressive. Although, I'm a little disgusted with my men's performance. I thought I taught them better than this." He glared down at an officer trembling by his feet. "The spread of your hits show a gross lack of respect for your opponents. The least you could do is kill them quickly… Unless you're an amateur shot?"

Shion pointed his gun at the man. "Who are you?"

"My name is Rashi. And judging by your mangy appearance, you two must have scurried in from the West Block." He tilted his head. "Have you come for your friend? Nezumi… was it?"

Shion stiffened.

"How sweet. I didn't know the little rat had any friends left."

"Where is Nezumi?"

"By now? Hmm. An operating table, perhaps?" Rashi shrugged. "My employer is an eccentric man."

Shion loosed half of the new magazine at the man, but he was already ducking out of the line of fire.

Rashi chuckled. "Such youth."

A single shot rang out. There was a sharp whoosh, and by the time Safu realized it was the sound of the air leaving Shion's lungs, he was already sprawled on the tiles.

Time ceased to exist.

"SHION!"

Safu threw herself down. He wasn't moving. He wasn't breathing.

"Shion!" The name came out as an agonized choke.

Stop the bleeding. I have to stop the bleeding.

Tears streamed thick and hot down her cheeks. She couldn't see straight. She couldn't find where he was hurt. Safu fumbled with Shion's coat, groping desperately for a way to save him.

"Where are you hurt? Shion, please. Please open your eyes."

The rest of her pleas were lost in sobs. A pair of black boots stopped next to her.

"He fought well, so I made it quick," the cold voice said. "I at least respect one's efforts in battle enough to give them that."

Safu didn't answer. Her hand had finally found the frayed hole in Shion's jacket, directly over his heart.

"I'll give you the same courtesy." A light draft wafted over her cheek, and she felt the threat of Rashi's weapon trained on her.

No. Her survival instincts kicked weakly at her grief. You can't die. Fight. Fight, and maybe you can save Shion.

Safu raked her hand over the tiles, but she couldn't find her handgun.

And then it was there in front of her, suspended in the air. She stared at it, perplexed, and heard Rashi grunt in surprise. He wasn't staring at the gun, but beyond it, at Shion. Safu gasped. His eyes were open, glaring bright, icy daggers at Rashi.

Shion sat up and pulled the trigger in the same fluid motion, sending the bullet directly into Rashi's gut.

The officer stumbled back, hit the wall, and slid down. "How…" He coughed, the sound shocked and wet. "You should be dead…"

"Superfibre," Shion intoned blankly.

He rose to his feet, keeping the gun out in front of him. Something tinkled on the tiles and Safu stared dumbfounded at the bullet, slightly dented at the tip.

Superfibre. Where… But then she knew he must have taken it from Yoming's house. The man had a few items made of the material, paranoid as he was of attempts on his life.

Shion rubbed the hole in his coat irritably, a grimace of pain flitting over his face.

Rashi grimaced back, his wry amusement infused with a more enduring look of pain. "Should've aimed for your head." He pressed his hand tightly against his stomach, and Safu could see red was starting to seep between the crevices of his fingers.

Safu realized she was still kneeling on the floor. She pushed herself up and stepped away from Shion. For the first time, she faced the full extent of her terror—and now betrayal. Shion used her. He played dead, listened to her sob and beg; he manipulated her anguish to lure the enemy closer. She didn't even know this person.

The officer pried his hand from his abdomen and looked down. He groaned. "Amateur… Why couldn't you… aim for a fatal spot?"

"You're more useful alive." Shion took a step toward Rashi. "Now, I'll ask you again: Where is Nezumi?"

Rashi trembled. "…Top floor."

"Is he hurt?"

The man made a face. "This hurts… I'm in pain. Please—"

"Answer the question."

"… No… Not when I left him."

"Not when you left him?" Shion echoed bitterly. "What do you mean? What's happening to him?"

"I told you," he gasped. "My boss. He… likes to… experiment. Anything could have happened." He squeezed his eyes shut. "I don't know. I don't know… any more."

There seemed to be tears forming at the corners of his eyes. Safu gnawed her lip. Shion stared Rashi down for a long moment. Then he turned and held Safu's gun out to her. She didn't take it immediately, just looked at it. He kept holding it out, but he fidgeted a little. A miffed, urgent ripple. She took the weapon from him and held it limply at her side.

Shion scooped his rifle off the floor, where it had lain since he faked death. "Let's go."

Reluctantly, Safu followed.

"Wait!" Rashi cried. "Kill me!"

"You're not worth another bullet."

"But… I'll suffer!"

Shion didn't seem to care.

"The building is set to detonate!" snarled Rashi.

Shion and Safu came to a halt.

Safu twisted around. "When?"

"Any minute now."

Shion tossed a disdainful look his way. "And you didn't think to mention this sooner?"

Rashi shrugged, a pallid smile on his lips. It was quickly wiped away by a tremor of pain. He curled in on himself and pressed harder on his stomach. "There… I helped you. I warned you. Now kill me."

Shion narrowed his eyes and turned away to continue his trek down the hall.

"Wait!" Rashi sputtered. "I—I killed your leader!"

Shion froze and angled back toward Rashi.

Rashi spoke quickly. "Yoming and… all your other comrades! I killed everyone in that basement."

Shion's face twisted in rage. His hand tightened around the grip of his rifle. Rashi smiled a little, and for a moment Safu, too, believed that he was going to grant Rashi's death wish.

But Shion only growled, his voice low and venomous, "Then you can burn like they did."

He swung around and hastened down the hall. Rashi's eyes widened with fear and then agony as he gripped his stomach.

Safu watched Shion disappear down the hall. She looked down at Rashi. He had gone very pale, and the area of his uniform over his stomach and legs was saturated with blood.

She couldn't be sure how long it would take for the injury to prove fatal, but it was apparent the man would not be able to escape before the building detonated. He would either bleed out or be decimated in the explosion to come. Either way, death would not be quick.

Safu should feel no pity for this man. He was a murderer, he had terrorized West Block time and again, and he had enjoyed doing it. He had tried to kill Shion, and he would've killed her. She should despise him; leave him to die, slowly and painfully, and utterly alone.

Rashi's eyes met hers. Their darkness was muddled. "Please," he managed. "Save me…"

Safu's hand trembled as her finger slipped over the trigger. Rashi blinked once, slowly, and then closed his eyes.

The sound of that shot chased her up the next two floors.

XXXX

It was torture. Nezumi knew the doors behind him were wide open. He knew the elevator would be traveling mindlessly up and down. And here he was, slumped against a wall, glaring at the man in white as he scrambled to save his data. The man had completely lost interest in him—a godsend, but the real godsend would be to ditch the cuffs and escape.

Nezumi tried again to muster the will to move. He had managed to twitch his hands so far, but that was a long way from crawling out the door.

"What did you do?" a low voice rumbled.

Nezumi glanced up at the man's distraught expression and smirked. "Oh, just a little experiment of mine. I planted a bug in the brain of this Facility. The results seem promising so far, wouldn't you say?"

"Don't you understand?" The man yanked at his hair. "Everything and everyone will be obliterated!"

As if to drive the point home, the floor trembled beneath them.

"You've destroyed it. Everything I've worked for."

"It's all well and good if you want to have a meltdown, but deactivate my cuffs first."

The man's gaze sharpened. "You. You can speak to Elyurias." Nezumi ground his teeth as the man stalked toward him. "I may have lost my research, but I still have you. There are secrets in you that may lead to Elyurias, I just need time to extract them."

He pulled out a miniscule handgun. It was a peashooter, laughable almost, except that it was lethal and Nezumi was in no laughing mood.

The man took a second step forward and froze, staring past Nezumi into the hall. A small, strangled noise escaped his lips.

The next moment was red. Nezumi blinked as a spray of red painted over the white of the floor. It was only a glimpse, before the man in the white lab coat pitched backward over it, gasping and clutching his thigh. Nezumi heard the soft tap of footsteps. A bead of sweat rolled down his back. He couldn't turn to see who was approaching; he was trapped watching the pain on the fallen man's face morph into a grimace of terror. The man scrambled back toward the Mother, leaving a smear of blood behind his injured leg.

The footsteps grew louder, and Nezumi listened harder, thinking he heard a second, lighter tread mixed between the steady steps of what must have been the shooter.

"So this really was just an experiment to you."

Nezumi's eyes widened.

He knew that voice, and it was one he had not expected to hear, now, in this place—and sounding like that. The voice was familiar, but it was the wrong kind of familiar. It turned the initial spike of relief into a stab of dread. A glimpse of rusty red appeared in Nezumi's peripheral, and then Shion stepped fully into view.

He looked like he had just journeyed out of hell. His face and hands were smudged with black dirt, or maybe soot, and the left side of his face showed evidence of a brutal beating. Nezumi's gaze didn't rest long on Shion's face, though, drawn as it was to the large black gun hanging at his side.

No…

"Shion…?"

Shion didn't seem to see him. He kept walking, slow and utterly focused on the man. "Is it fun, playing with people's lives?"

The injured man quavered as Shion advanced on him.

"Tearing them from their homes, their families, to bring them here to be ripped apart and thrown away like garbage?"

The man's eyes darted around, resting with horror on his small handgun in the corner, too far for him to reach.

"P-please. Wait," the man stuttered, backing as far as he could against the Mother's mainframe. "I beg you."

"You beg me? I wonder how many of those people down there begged you?" Shion's shoulders shook. "Do you even see them as people?"

Nezumi's mouth had gone dry. Shion, stop. This isn't you. He wanted to say it—he needed to say it—but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get his tongue to form the words.

"You came for the boy—right?" The man in the lab coat flicked his eyes to Nezumi. "Take him. Here." He reached into his pocket and held out the remote. "The keys to his cuffs. Take them."

Shion stopped walking. He was nearly on top of the man now, so close he towered over him. The man's offering went untaken, and his hand began to shake from the stress.

"I hope all this was worth the lives of my friends." Shion tilted his face up to look at the Mother. "It hurts, doesn't it? Having everything you hold dear taken from you, and you can't do a thing to stop it."

"You—" the man choked, but this time it was angry, not fearful. "You think destroying this place will achieve anything? My work will live on, and the city will continue to thrive. Destroying this place won't save any of them."

Shion stared up at the Mother for a long moment. "You're right," he said quietly. "I couldn't save them." Shion's right arm rose slowly. "I can't save anyone."

"Shion, stop!"

A gunshot rang out.