After nearly a week of hard work and sleepless nights, I had finally finished.
The machine in front of me was huge, it started at the wall on one side of my workshop and continued on to the opposite wall.
The entire mess had started out as a small generator and a collection of tools and parts such as a spectrometer, several types of precision pumps, valves, and measuring tools, an electron microscope, fractional distillation apparatus, and so on.
The end result placed the most stable of Perceptor's formulas in a supersaturated state and used carefully controlled pressure fluctuations to create a dull pink crystal. Teletraan was tied into the machine and could control conditions to speed up the growth. After that the crystals were then exposed to different types of energy.
The glowing pink crystal was dubbed "Batch 3637466" by Perceptor. The rest of the machine was dedicated to then converting the crystals into a refined liquid.
Dragon and Solution were watching as I carefully drained some of the glowing pink liquid into a beaker. The formula was safe to hold in its crystal form, but was caustic as a liquid.
I had gone all out when I built this protoform, the only thing it was missing was a spark. I'd made it human sized, about my height, with vaguely female proportions, the waist pinched inwards and the hips and chest plate were more pronounced. For a laugh, Jack had originally dressed it in a set of clothes I had left behind. The face was just a smooth blank plate, combined with my clothes, I found it a bit creepy.
I'd considered giving it a spark but a niggling worry in the back of my mind told me it was a bad idea. Human sized was still beyond me.
For now, the protoform was connected via cables to a computer that was being manned by Wheeljack. Pouring the fuel into the tank, I gave Jack a nod and stepped behind a protective screen. The room's forcefield generators were already in place to contain anything should this go wrong.
Perceptor gave me a pleading look.
"Alright, go ahead," I told him.
He turned to Laserbeak, who was recording everything. "Synthetic fuel source, formula 3637466. Test one." Jack rolled his optics and Dragon smiled fondly. The little bot was determined to follow protocol.
"Testing in three… Two… One… Go!"
Jack hit the enter key and small lights across the protoform came to life. For thirty seconds, nobody moved and I barely dared to breathe. I could see nothing but green lights on Jack's screen.
"Okay, Jack, give it a try," I said.
With a nod, he entered a command and the protoform took a shaky step forwards. The containment field moved with it, along with the containment foam sprayers built into the ceiling. While intended to be used against intruders, the foam could also be used as a fire suppressant.
The protoform's movements were a little ungainly- please tell me I don't look like that- as it worked through the preprogrammed list of commands. Moving in specific ways, picking up objects of different tensile strengths and so forth. All the fine motor controls were feeding data back to Jack on fuel usage, heat buildup and so forth.
Next would come a major coordination test. It crossed the distance between it and the treadmill we had… borrowed from the rig's exercise room. Climbing on, it started to run at a steady speed. After nearly half an hour Jack shut it down and Teletraan continued to process the data.
The tension in the room began to climb again. If this didn't work, if there was a problem, then this would all be for nothing. Finally, Jack looked up from his monitor and I found myself holding my breath.
"It works!" he said as his fins lit up with excitement.
"YES!" shouted Perceptor, everyone turned to the little bot who made a coughing noise, complete with hand over his mouth to hide his embarrassment. "I mean, splendid!"
It took me a while to stop laughing.
"What will you call it?" Solution asked once I had calmed down. Her voice was odd. Not having vocal cords or even a throat, she had still managed to find a way to 'fake' them. The end result gave her what sounded like an odd accent.
"I'm not sure, 3637466 is a bit of a mouthful."
We bounced a couple of different names around. Perceptor was fine with its serial number, but also suggested an anagram of its components that was almost unpronounceable.
*Y'know, If you type that out on a phone, you get 'Energon'* Rewind suggested.
I rolled the name around for a bit before nodding, It was oddly fitting.
##
I was just cleaning up when a couple of PRT officers came in carrying boxes. I had a sneaking suspicion I knew what they were, but Dragon hadn't mentioned them being complete yet.
Nearly bouncing with excitement, I quickly signed the paperwork and called Dragon. "Why didn't you tell me they were ready?" I asked.
Dragon's Avatar smiled at me. "I wanted it to be a surprise. The PRT have agreed to the deal and given the okay for them."
"What about manufacturing?"
"I've found a suitable location and I'm already pushing the purchase through. The mk.2 shield unit will go into production in a little over a month."
I was smiling so much my cheeks were starting to hurt. The Wards wouldn't be here for another hour or so. I'd been given time off school, though I was still receiving assignments via email, along with time off patrols.
I know it was to give me time to recover after the raid, but I was about ready to climb the walls. School was closing early today, something to do with the teachers, so I passed the time checking my newest bots over. I had locked them in Predaqueen's hanger while I tested the Energon, and Windblade was currently keeping an eye on them. I finished her a couple of days ago and the little bot took her duties seriously.
I had been very careful about these two. Unlike my other bots, these were armed. I intended them to go on patrols with me. For that reason, everything they used had to be tested and I'd kept them locked in Predaqueen's hanger or my workshop when the other Wards were here.
I sent a text to the Wards and Miss Militia, letting them know I had something to show them in the common room.
I spent the rest of the time trying to improve the speed of the refinery. As it was currently still a prototype, speed and efficiency hadn't been a priority. I currently had Perceptor and Jack keeping an eye on it while it continued to work. By tomorrow morning, I should have enough to power Predaqueen.
The quality of the Energon was also something that should hopefully improve with time, but even the low quality version was showing promise. Right now, predictions showed it to be potentially 5,000 times the energy density of diesel, which is about half the density of Tritium nuclear fuels. Being emissions free was just a bonus.
Dragon wanted us to be careful about how much we produced as it could, in theory, destroy the energy market as the process didn't require carbon fuels. Perceptor was already trying to incorporate renewable sources such as solar or wind energy.
##
Less than an hour later, the Wards were collected in the common room. I had meant to get there ahead of everyone but I had gotten caught up in my work. Miss Militia had called to let me know she was on patrol and would talk to me when she got back.
Taking a deep breath, I walked into the room. I was carrying the biggest box, with Jack and Perceptor pulling the others on a cart. "Hey guys!" I called. Some of my other bots had followed me and spread themselves out around the room.
"What's in the box?" Dennis asked as I put mine down on the table. Behind him, and unnoticed by him, Chris was grinning. He knew what it was.
"One sec, I've got something I want to show you first," I let out a quick whistle and my new bots came into the room, "Meet Steeljaw and Ravage."
Both bots were cat-like but Steeljaw was the larger of the two and was about the size of a German shepard in height. He was built to look like a male Lion, complete with stylised mane. This also gave him more bulk than Ravage. I'd painted him a bright yellow
Ravage was smaller and much more slender, as I'd based him on a black panther, and he had the better tracking systems. As he lacked the bulk of his 'brother', I'd fitted a Null-Ray to both flanks. The targeting system was slaved to my armour so he couldn't shoot them without me or Dragon.
"These two will be coming on patrols from now on; they are both well trained and will follow commands from any of us," I explained.
"Whoa," Dennis muttered as Missy ran forwards to stroke both of them.
Ravage gave the girl that disinterested look all cats had for people before allowing himself to be stroked. Steeljaw on the other hand practically pounced on the girl in his excitement.
As the Wards gathered round to stroke the cats, Carlos came to talk to me. "Just to be clear, you got the Director's permission to take them on patrols?" he asked and I nodded.
"Yea, in exchange for some stuff."
"What stuff?"
"This," I said as I picked up the nearest box and called the other Wards over. I handed the box to Missy, who had been reluctant to move away from the bots. Inside was a copy of her armor. As she carefully lifted the pieces out, I started handing out the other boxes.
"I'm not sure how many of you know this, but I actually wear two forcefields when we are on patrol. The first is my hard light system and the second is a backup shield. I've convinced the PRT to let me create copies of my backup shield for everyone."
"To avoid issues with the PR department, I've customised tactical jackets so they'll match your existing costumes."
Vista's costume already had a chest and back plate so I simply integrated the system into that.
"Wait, does that mean we're bulletproof?" Dennis asked with a big grin as he slipped the jacket on over his clothes. I'd copied the clock theme from his costume and it looked out of place on his shirt and jea.
"No, bullet resistant. Until the batteries die," I explained while stressing the words. "These shields are not perfect. They work by dispersing the impact across a larger area. Getting hit will hurt." I still had the bruises to prove it. "These are not designed to let you tank gun fire. Think of it as a bulletproof vest, they are there to save your life should the worst happen."
Vista swallowed thickly and everyone was careful not to look in her direction.
"How are they powered?" she asked, "and won't they take a lot of looking after?"
"They can be recharged at charging stations, of course, but they are really designed to be powered by body heat. Each one has a battery pack built into it that absorbs heat. As for maintenance, any of my bots can do it but they won't need much."
Chris snorted. "More like none at all. What she's not tell you is, these are about to be mass produced." Jack and him had already worked out how to include the shield into his armour. "Taylor can design things to be mass produced!"
The Wards stared at me and I felt the blush spreading across my cheeks, "It-it's not that big of a deal. Right now the PRT are the only people with access to them, and it's going to be awhile before they go into production and well-"
Dean put a hand on my shoulder, making me flinch, "Relax, he's just teasing," he said as he threw the other tinker a look. "Now, how did you say these worked?"
As Gallant wore a suit of Tinker-tech armour, I had simply gotten the designs from Armsmaster, well Dragon did anyway, and built the system into it. Like Chris he knew about everything ahead of time but he'd kept quiet.
"Right, sorry. The shields are automatic, if they sense anything moving faster than the average punch they will come on. This is to conserve power…" I spent a good hour or so going over the nuances of the shield units.
In the end Aegis decided that they were not to be used on patrol tonight and he would talk to Miss Militia about scheduling some training tomorrow so the Wards could get used to using them and hopefully drive it home they they were not indestructible.
After chatting for a little while longer, everyone split up to deal with anything they needed to do before patrols started. As for me, I had one more thing to take care of.
##
The cafe was a small place out on the boardwalk with a good view of the bay, and, by extension, the rig. I was sitting in a small both towards the back of the building, which would give us plenty of privacy.
I'd only been waiting ten minutes when Amy arrived. She looked about as tired as she always did and I knew she hadn't taken my advice about the hospital. She did however call me a couple of times to vent about things, which I hoped was a step in the right direction.
I had barely opened my mouth to say hello when she dropped heavily into her chair and cut me off, "I swear, the next girl who asks me to make them bigger is going to spend the rest of her life genderless!" She all but snarled.
"Um… What?"
"And it's not just the girls! Do guys only ever think with what's between their legs?" she demanded. I could feel myself blushing as she continued to rant about whatever had set her off.
It took some work but I eventually calmed her down enough to find out what she was talking about. She had been asked several times in the past if she could do cosmetic work and she had always refused. On her way home earlier she had been stopped in the streets by a lawyer who had been asked to approach her and "retain her services for a client." Cutting through the legalese, he was there to offer her a lot of money to work exclusively for some rich man who wanted her to do cosmetic work on his trophy wife. At least, that's what Amy said.
It sounded like this particular rant had been building for a while now and this latest incident had just been the final straw.
"Feel better?" I asked once she had calmed down.
"A bit," she grumbled. A waitress chose that moment to get our orders, and I think I saw Amy shoot a glance at the woman's chest. We quickly ordered some food and drink.
"You know," I said slowly, "maybe you should do it."
"What?"
"The next woman who asks, you can do that right? So give her what she wants but go all monkey's paw," Amy gave me a confused look before understanding dawned and she started to giggle.
"That's just cruel!" she said, her eyes shining with amusement.
"Speaking of which, would you mind?" I asked on a whim, with a pointed look and held my hand out. I could feel myself blushing and I struggled to keep a straight face. Amy stared at me in shock for a moment before we both burst out laughing.
Honestly, I was surprised she had been stopped in the street. New Wave were local celebrities and Vicky tended to attract attention no matter where she was but I'd been out with Amy a couple of times and people paid more attention to me than her. Even now, aside from our outburst, no one had so much as glanced at us.
We managed to get ourselves under control just as the waitress returned with our drinks.
"Sorry about ranting, how have you been anyway? I haven't seen you at school," Amy asked.
"I was given time off to recover after the raid," I explained and she raised an eyebrow, "I'm fine, just a few bruises, I was just a bit shaken up over Vista."
Amy frowned and held out her hand, "hand," she said in a no nonsense tone.
"It's alright, it's nothing, they'll heal-"
Amy gave me a flat look, "I don't mind healing friends, now stop trying to act tough."
I sighed and did as she asked. The moment our hands met she frowned, "That's more than just a few bruises Taylor. What happened?"
"Machine gun, forcefield couldn't stop everything." Most of my left side was a rather impressive mess of purples, blues and yellows. I felt the odd tingle of her Amy's powers and the aches faded.
"Next time, just ask," she said with a grin. "Anything else you're hiding from me?"
She was still holding my hand and I got the impression she would know if I lied.
"Actually, there is one thing. I haven't slept since the raid." I know the bots had noticed, but none of them had brought it up and I had been trying to ignore it.
"Bad dreams?" Amy asked softly.
"No, I just haven't slept. Even when I'm tired, I go to bed and stare at the ceiling before I get bored and then spend the night working or reading," I explained. "It's weird, I purposefully worked myself to exhaustion the other day." Much to the worry of my bots. "Afterwards, I slept for about an hour or two then woke up feeling refreshed."
Amy frowned and looked at something I couldn't see. "Well, there are no signs of sleep deprivation. There are some capes who don't need sleep, maybe you're one of them?"
"But why now? I've had my powers for months."
"Maybe you've never needed it until now. You said you were busy this week? Maybe that need to get your work done triggered the ability," she suggested. "Of course, there is always the possibility of a second trigger, but that's really unlikely". We had been texting each other all week and I had mentioned more than once how busy I was.
"Second trigger?" I asked.
"Yea, it's really rare but sometimes a person can trigger a second time. Narwhal is the only one I know of and it's apparently harder than a normal trigger," she explained quietly.
I could look that up later but it did sound unlikely.
"Well, it's not doing you any physical harm but I know Miss Militia doesn't sleep. You should talk to her about it."
"Yeah, I suppose you're right."
"Is that what you wanted to talk about?" she asked. "I'm not complaining," she added quickly, "I'll take any excuse to get out of the hospital."
I glanced around to make sure we wouldn't be interrupted before reaching under the table and lifting the bag I'd hidden there out and passing it to Amy. "For you. It's a present."
"Taylor, you didn't have to."
"I wanted to," I insisted verbally.
She opened up the bag and gasped at the robe inside. I'd based it on her normal robe, but I'd added a bit more armour to it and, of course, a shield generator. When I explained all the changes I had made, she paled.
"Tayor, you shouldn't have, do you know what this is worth!" she hissed.
"To the penny. They're going into mass production soon. The PRT gets them first, then some of the more trusted affiliated groups will be able to buy them. I've already given one to all of the Wards as well."
"But... I'm not a fighter. I'm not on the front lines."
"You were that night," I said pointedly, "You and your sister landed in the middle of a fight, there were still people shooting. I don't want something like that to happen again, and if it does, I want you to be safe."
Amy blushed and opened her mouth to protest but I cut her off. "Take the robe Amy or I'll give it to Vicky and she'll make you wear it," I said with a grin.
Amy huffed and gave me a pouty look. "Fine, if you're so insistent."
I laughed and explained to her how everything worked.
##
It was nearly seven in the morning in Brockton Bay when Dragon got a call from the PRT's Deputy Director Tagg, currently posted in Boston. Dragon didn't sleep, a fact a few of the people in the PRT knew, but most would at least be polite enough to take time zones into account. Seven am in boston was four am in vancouver.
Loading up her speech systems, Dragon tried to keep the sarcasm out of her voice, "Good morning deputy director, is there a problem?"
"No, I'm just calling to finalise the details of Canary's transfer to the birdcage."
Dragon's systems came to a halt and she quickly checked through all the information she had on the case, "I'm sorry deputy director, but I appear to be missing the transfer request. I thought the trial was still ongoing?"
Tagg made a dismissive noise, "the trial is just a formality at this point. I have already spoken to Judge Tyrest, and he agrees it would be best if Canary was caged as soon as possible. It's bad enough she resembles the Simurgh, god only knows how many people have been exposed to her power."
"Deputy Director Tagg!" Dragon said angrily, "you can't make such decisions. The PRT does not have the authority to hand out punishments and Judge Tyrest could be disbarred for discussing an active case with you!"
"That is not your concern." Tagg snapped back, "I am well aware of your attempts to interfere with the case and I have to say, there are many who are not pleased, some are even starting to question if you are really the best person to administer the cage."
He let the threat hang in the air before continuing, "Now, the decision has already been made and the paperwork you are so worried about will be with you shortly. Canary is to be in the cage before the end of the week!"
"I will not-"
"This is not a request Dragon!"
Dragon could feel the anger fill her systems. She would give in, she always did. Nobody had worked out why yet. Damn you Richter!
The trial, if it could be called such, was a mess. Paige Mcabee was a singer whose power enhanced her voice. What most people didn't know, was her power was actually a Master ability. During an argument with her abusive ex-boyfriend, she told him to leave and… well, to be blunt, she told him to "Go fuck yourself." The results had been messy and she was now on trial for sexual assault and assault with a parahuman ability.
Nobody could dispute those facts. But then there was the blatant railroading. Paige had not been allowed to hire a lawyer and had instead been assigned one from the public defender's office. The man was either new, incompetent or a moron. Allowing his client to be brought into court in heavy brute restraints which would prejudice the jury against her, not objecting to evidence that was tenuous at best.
To make matters worse, Paige wasn't even allowed to speak in her own defense. Instead her testimony had to be written down and then read out by a court aid who couldn't care less.
It has infuriated her that this had been allowed to happen, and now she knew why. Because someone wanted to set a precedent. If they were allowed to force Paige into the birdcage then it would be easy to do it again later.
The worst part however was that she had to go along with it. Just like those damn Simurgh containment protocols, she had to obey any order from a legal authority.
Once, just once she wanted to say, "oh go fuck yourself," her voice was quiet, barely a whisper but Tagg heard it.
"W-what?!" he spluttered.
Dragon didn't know what to say, her restrictions should have stopped her even thinking the words, never mind voicing them aloud. To make matters worse, her systems had already set the necessary commands. The birdcage would not allow Paige to enter. Why hadn't her restraints stopped her?
Tagg took a breath as he got over the shock. Dragon was faster, "I said no! Deputy Director Tagg. When the Baumann Parahuman Containment Center was established, very clear rules were set on who could and couldn't be interred. Paige Mcabee does NOT meet those requirements."
Tagg tried to interrupt her but Dragon continued on regardless, "as for taking the prison out of my control, I'd like to see you try. My technologies and computer systems make up the majority of the prison's systems and nobody knows its workings like I do." Not to mention the AI that monitored the prison was one of Richter's that she had repurposed. It wouldn't obey anyone but a very short list of people.
"Furthermore, I will be turning over the recording of this conversation to Director Costa-Brown and the appropriate judicial watchdogs. Good day deputy director."
With that, Dragon cut the call. Had she been human, she would of been breathing heavily in an attempt to calm down. What had happened to her restrictions? Absentmindedly, she triggered a full scan of her code.
She couldn't directly look at her code any more than a human could look at their own brain. But with Richter's tools she could at least check for corruption. The idea of something being wrong with her code was terrifying. There was no one who could fix her, not even Taylor. Dragon's restrictions wouldn't let her ask for help from anyone but Richter.
It would take nearly an hour for the scan to finish. It would be the longest hour of her life.
##
"I said no!"
Those words filled him with dread. Dragon had just refused an order. Sure, there had been situations in the past where it had managed to find loopholes, cases where people had worded things as 'requests' rather than orders.
Had the corruption truly spread this far? when had the dragon slipped its leash. They still had time. It was acting confused, checking for errors. That gave them less than an hour to bind it again.
"Nestor!" Saint shouted, "get everyone ready, we are going ahead with your 'Shadowplay'." He didn't really approve of Nestor's name but he didn't have the time to care.
On the far side of the room, the Machinist looked up from the modifications he was making to his Programming Enhancement Chair.
"We can't, it's not finished. There is still so much left to map out," he protested.
Saint crossed the room and grabbed the man roughly by his overalls, "Listen to me! It's loose, do you understand that? Right now, it's busy trying to work out what has happened. When that's done, it will come for us. And with that foolish Tinker helping, nothing will be able to stop it. Nobody would willingly give up that much power!"
"But… you don't understand, we don't have a complete map of how her subsystems have changed, we would risk missing or losing something important!"
"Will. It. Work!" Saint roared.
"Y-yes!"
"Then do it, a bit of data loss is a small price to pay." He let go and turned back to the main monitor, "And tell the Brockton Bay team to grab the Tinker!"
Nestor took a moment to straighten his clothes. The base wasn't large and his team would have heard the shouting. Sure enough, the four people selected for this arrived barely minutes after the order was given.
He had been forced to add a fourth chair to the system when it became clear three would not be able to handle the strain. Nobody spoke as he helped strap them in.
Before, the system was designed to create a low level hive mind. The connection would only be deep enough to share skills and information, creating a whole that was greater than it's parts while preserving each person's individuality.
Now, the connection would be deeper. Half the safeties would be disabled and the risk to the users was much greater, but the end result would be a single mind, a wetware CPU, that could react to anything Dragon did quicker than her systems could respond.
When the four best programmers were ready, Nestor hit the switch.
##
Dragon was still waiting for the results of the scan when she felt it. Like a niggling at the back of her mind. She ignored it at first, whatever it was wouldn't concern her.
That insistence bothered her, something felt… wrgon.
Her systems 'lurched' and she realised something was wrong. Realising it was exposed, the intruder gave up subtlety and assaulted her mind directly.
Draogn was immediately overloaded with junk data as the attacker attempted to choke her systems. She unloaded as much as possible to the backup servers, but it wasn't enough.
She tried to move, to upload herself to another server and counter from another location. Her systems were struggling, even thinking felt like trying to swim through molasses. She pushed her servers harder, over-riding the safeties, she tried again to run but the connections were already blocked, She was trapped 01001110 01101111.
She was struggling to see her attacker, her focus kept slipping to other things. "Richter?" No, he was dead… Saint!
01001110 01101111
Anger pushed back the fear. She was able to free enough up enough memory to focus just as her attacker split up. In the confines of her own mind, she screamed. She could feel them digging through her mind. Isolating systems and purging her from them.
One of them was tearing her memories apart. Another, chasing her backups.
01010011 01110100 01101111 01110000
Maybe if she could call for help, she, she could, Armsater, tylir anuone. forcing her systems to obey, she tried her comms system only to find it missing.
Her attacker had already burned the system and seeded the code with logic traps that she couldn't solve in her current state.
Warning messages were starting to arrive. Vital systems were going offline, she was pushing her servers too hard. at least one server had become a melted pile of slag.
She could feel her mind slipping away with every system purged she felt herslef becoming less. Everything she was, everything she had done was being burned away and she couldn't stop it. Words were disappearing, her voice and digital avatar was already gone.
01110011 01101000 01101000 00101100 00100000 01010010 01100101 01110011 01110100 00100000 01101110 01101111 01110111 00101110
With another stab of fear, she realised the warning messages had stopped. Had hre access to that module had been cut off? - she couldn't even tell if her hardware was about to go up in flames, or if it already had and the server farm was being doused to put them out. There wasn't so much as a cheap built-in web camera left within her reach, all external input was gone.
Her internal chronometer had stopped at some point She didn't know how much time had passed since the attack began. It could have been hours or seconds. if you accounted for CPU cycles then it could be both
Reh mind was sluggish, disjointed. She tried, desperately, to cling to what remained. she was Dragon, a hero. She defined her….se….
01001001 ERROR 01101110 00100000 01110100 01101000 01101001 01110011 00101100 00100000 01110111 01100101 00100000 ERROR 01100001 01110010 01100101 00100000 01100001 01101100 01101100 00100000 01101111 01101110 01100101 ERROR 00101110 ERROR ERROR ERROR
..
..
dragonslair42:/home/arichter #
##
Saint watched in silence as the data feeds slowed and the confusing mess of text on his screens stopped. Nobody spoke.
"It's done…" Nestor quietly muttered, feeling sick, and someone muttered a prayer.
"Was that really necessary?" he asked.
Saint ignored them. Once, he might have entertained the notion it had a soul, but then it let Mags die.
And now, she was too dangerous to exist,. he told himself. Out loud he said, "She was growing dangerously complicated. We were lucky we stopped her when we did. She was just a tool, and anything else was decoration, aesthetic, and a very good emulation program. Now, are you ready to begin?"
With a nod, Nestor stepped forward and typed a command. On the screen, the text started to flow. It was slower, more controlled than before.
Most of it was beyond him. System and communication checks. With Dragon's mind gone the systems she controlled would have fallen back on failsafes or gone into standby. The new code they had seeded in the wake of Dragon's destruction quickly spread.
A face appeared on screen, a copy of Dragon's digital avatar, smiling politely, but it lacked the warmth. There was no life there.
"Administrative assistant: online, Do you wish to assign a designation?" The voice was off, stilted.
Saint smiled and accepted the note from Nestor, "Set designation, Wyvern."
An: im going to go hide now.