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Across the Worlds

Chapter 56: Experiment number three

. . . . . . . . . . . .

It happened in the blink of an eye. On every floating island that made up Ataraxia every single electronic screen in home, office and street dissolved into static, their normal broadcast interrupted. The people stopped, their empty smiles fading as they blinked in confusion, milling about like ants without a queen.

"We interrupt your normal broadcasts for this important bulletin," a stern voice ordered.

The screens flickered and a beautiful brunette woman appeared.

"Citizens," she said with a warm graceful smile that instantly eased the crowd, "We have some disturbing news…"

The screen split in half, two massive pictures of Peter and Susan dominating the screens. The images were black-and-white, the quality grainy but there was no mistaking the two Narnian royals.

"Two of our beloved citizens have contracted a disease that has made them delirious. They had so far evaded all attempts for us at Malik Industries to contact them and provide them with the cure," the woman explained, her smile apologetic, "If you see them please do not approach as they are not in control of their actions. But please call the Malik Industries hot-line at…"
She rattled off a series of numbers as the crowd looked at each other, sympathetic and worried.

"Those poor kids," one woman said almost crying.

Her friend slid an arm around her, comforting her as others in the crowd offer kind words, some of them weeping just like the woman.

"I know," her friend soothed, stroking her, "But don't worry Malik Industries will have them as right as rain in the blink of an eye!"

"Thank you for your co-operation," the woman on the screen finished, "And Malik Industries wants to remind you… let's all live together on Ataraxia happily forever!"

Her face faded as the screens returned to normal, cheery jingles filling the air as some of the crowd turned to each other, smiling, eager to help.

"Maybe we should go look for them," one boy suggested to a complete stranger, "We don't want anyone to suffer!"

"No," the man said gently, "You can bet Malik Industries have that in hand. Just keep an eye out for them!"
Like wildfire the news of the two poor sick darlings spread through the crowd, everyone promising cheerfully to look out for them as some of the more sensitive members of the public wept at the thought of anyone in pain in this perfect world. But they were quickly comforted, words of praise of Malik Industries medical medicines smoothing over any frowns or grimaces.

The crowd began to move once more, some of them adopting comically obvious furtive looks, peering into rubbish bins and under benches as the names Susan and Peter moved every lip.

Susan cursed, ducking back into the alleyway as Peter's grim eyes met hers.

"I hate this world," she growled, smacking the wall with her bow in frustration, "What now?"

She kicked the wall out of sheer frustration, her hands twitching on her bow as she chafed at the latest obstacle. Her friends, her companions, her family was in danger and she was forced to cower in an alley like a rat. Susan gritted her teeth and promised bloody vengeance against the darkness in this world.

"We just have to figure out where the others might have been taken to," Peter said quietly, touching his sister's shoulders and dropping his hiding-Gift over them, "Don't worry I can protect us from the citizens."

The air thickened and condensed, shimmering and refracting light as a woman peered into the alleyway, hurrying off as Peter's Gift made her see nothing but empty space.

"Malik Industries probably has them," Susan said darkly.

Her gut was churning at the thought of her family in danger but she clamped down on her nerves knowing they needed her to keep calm and think straight. They were in danger and crying or being pointless angry was a luxury she could not afford to have.

Caspian's face flashed through her head with a pang. She was deathly afraid of losing him so soon after his descent into madness, afraid that just like before he would slip through his fingers and lose him forever.

She steeled herself. The others were more than capable of looking after themselves, despite the danger they were all in Susan knew and trusted them to hang on and give their captors almighty hell.

Especially Jason.

She turned to her brother.

"So what about it? Feel like storming the most powerful entity on this world with two people?" she asked, trying to hide the shakiness of her voice.

"I'm game if you are," Peter smirked back as Susan lips twitched.

They looked at each other, Susan smiling slightly as she realised just how much her brother had changed. Before he had fought her teeth and nail, willing to use anything and everything against her to stop her from fighting, from leading the charge into battle. But now he was looking to her as an ally and a fellow commander, willing to stake his life on her abilities and courage.

"Well, we need to figure out where they are exactly," Susan said slowly.

Purpose flowed through her stemming the tide of fear as she looked at her brother, hoping he had the answers.

Peter was frowning, unconsciously massaging his cursed arms, the varicose black veins still starkly bulging through his skin. He looked up, his Gifts directing him towards one of the stolen cameras as he sighed, ideas slotting into place linking together and forming a plan.

He nodded, making a decision.

"I think I can find out," he said finally, "Come on."
Susan frowned but nodded, trusting his lead as they stood and hurried out of the alleyway, their steps brisk and purposeful.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

"So… you're it huh?" she asked, obviously unimpressed, towering over them.

"And you are?" Inara shot back, defiant despite her chains.

The plain-looking girl with mousy brown hair laughed. She was dressed in the jumpsuit that was the standard of this world but her dark suit was emblazoned with a symbol that was all too familiar to Caspian and Inara – the eye within an eye symbol, the badge of the Great Darkness.

Caspian's hackles rose at the sight as he steeled himself, willing to make his death a costly one.

"Just a humble working class girl doing a job for her boss," the girl giggled, flipping her long hair back.

She blinked at them, her irises becoming completely black. Inara flinched as the girl licked her lips, even white teeth gleaming in the light of the room.

"So guess what?" the darkness-possessed girl smirked.

Caspian and Inara glanced at each other, Inara's eyes wide in her face as the king clenched his fists. His chains rattled at the movement and the girl turned to him, a salacious grin unfurling across her face.

"Oh, it's you," she sniggered, "My brother had a great time inside of you…"

Inara blinked at those words as Caspian glared up at her darkly, fire in his eyes. He held his tongue, his face saying it all. The girl laughed right at him, undaunted by his silent threats as her hands came to rest on her hips.

"Making you stab Mallory and your one true love," she rolled her eyes, "Too bad Eustace had to rip him out of you and destroy him. I mean how was he supposed to know Susan the Gentle is off limits?"

"YOU – " Caspian's voice boomed through the room as he threw himself at her.

The girl laughed as Caspian jerked at his chains, struggling to get at her with a snarl. Like a frenzied animal, he thrashed against his bonds, spitting and cursing, his guilt and fury drowning out everything else.

"Caspian!" Inara shouted urgently, "Stop it! It's no use!"

The king ignored her, spitting at the girl. Phlegm struck the girl's jumpsuit but she completely ignored him, turning to Inara and talking over the rattling of his chains.

"Well, you know what they say… c'est la vie!"

She whirled, planting a boot straight into Caspian's chest and sending him crashing back into the wall.

"CASPIAN!" Inara cried as the king's head cracked against the wall, the man slumping over dazed.

Without even stopping, the girl whipped back to Inara, a gun appearing in her hands. Inara's eyes widened in horror as the barrel slowly drifted up to aim right between her eyes.

"And as I was saying before. And sorry about the constant subject changes, it's a bad habit I know…" the girl gave a sheepish laugh as Caspian slowly righted himself, his chest badly bruised, the king struggling to breath, "But guess what?"

She grinned at them, the sweet simpering act fading as the true demon, a sadist beyond human comprehension, revealed itself.

"You don't have to be stuck here in this boring little cell staring at each other!" she grinned, winking at Inara, "The boss's got something lined up just for you!"

She clicked her fingers and Inara and Caspian started as their cuffs sprung free, their shackles falling to the ground. Caspian instantly fell into a crouch, ready to spring at the girl but she pointed backwards without looking, the gun aimed straight at his throat.

"Come on! Come on!" she urged, turning to look at Caspian, wagging her fingers at him.

She laughed at his furious glare.

"Let's go already!"

Gritting his teeth Caspian rose, Inara following him. Held at gunpoint they were herded from the room and forced into a long white-walled corridor.

"By the way," the girl smirked from behind them, "Since I'm probably leading you to your deaths… I'm Jill Pole."

She paused, frowning.

"Well my host's name was Jill Pole anyway," she said with a sheepish grin.

"Couldn't you have picked a hotter body?" Inara snapped, defiant to the last.

Jill's replying smile was ice cold and as deadly as a wolf's.

"Don't worry when you die…" Jill said slowly, her free hand going out to caress Inara's cheeks.

Inara froze as Jill moved her head forwards, her lips ghosting Inara's face.
"I'll just take yours," she whispered intimately, her voice as tender as a lover's.

She pulled back, winking at the deeply unnerved Inara before jamming the gun between her shoulder blades forcing the girl and king to march down the hall. They passed a sealed door, its edge framed by a strange yellow light that came from the other sound. The light throbbed, flickering as Jill suddenly laughed, her high-pitched giggles bouncing off the walls. Inara and Caspian looked at each other, desperately completely helpless as the possessed girl herded them towards their destination.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

Jason was floating between reality and memory, his head aching as something wormed into his brain, burrowing through the layers of his mind and into the walls that held his darkest memories at bay.

The shields cracked as the thing inside of him ate at it, flashes of memory leaking out with each gulping bite.

"No…" Jason mumbled, shaking, trying to fight "No…"

He struggled, the straps holding him down to the table as he let out a whimpering moan. With a sound like glass breaking, the shields collapsed and Jason was instantly swept up in a life remembered.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

"How did you get here?" Elias demanded, "How did you manage to get the funds to start all of this?!"

Marcos ignored him as he marched down the hall, a platoon of guards boxing Elias in.

"You honestly believe that people will always choose what is right," Marcos suddenly spoke up, picking up the thread of their argument, "I'm here to show you you're sadly mistaken."

"What?" Elias whispered.

He looked at his old colleague, a chill running through him at the sheer madness in the man's voice, the conviction and the sadism. Elias's teeth bit through his lips, blood flooding his mouth as he shook, knowing that this man was on the brink of madness and revelling in it.

Still ranting, Marcos waved his hands around and a heavy set of metal doors slid open, the false-god stepping inside. Elias was shoved unceremoniously through, the room sealing shut behind him as he whirled.

Slowly he turned, his dark eyes taking in the switchboard of lights before him, his face pale. Marcos ignored him, quickly pressing a few buttons as the wall before them shimmered, black fading into transparent glass.

"Here, look. See how at the slightest hint of danger to their precious self, mankind would stab his own friends in the back to save his precious hide," Marcos sneered, a magnificent look of utter contempt on his face, "See how they squabble and kill to save their souls."

Elias slowly approached the glass, terrified of what he might find.

"See how all ideals of loyalty and love are stripped away in the blink of an eye."

The scientist stared down through the glass into the chamber below and his heart stopped. His eyes widened, his whole body shaking as he tried to push reality away, tried to make it false, tried to turn this nightmare into a dream he could wake from at any moment.

"No…"

"See just how great the true nature of man really is," Marcos finished, a cackle in his voice, "See what they really are when we dangle them over a volcano's edge."
"No… no… anything but this," Elias whispered, face contorted into a horrified stare, tears threatening to fall, "MARCOS! STOP!"
He whirled on his former friend, rushing him, beside himself with fear and horror but Marcos easily swept him aside, pinning him to the wall as he sneered into Elias's face.

"Watch," Marcos hissed, "And learn."

"NO!" Elias screamed at him, "INARA! CASPIAN!"
But his voice bounced off the thick pane of glass as Marcos turned his head to the left and looked through the window at his two captives.

He smiled, eyes bulging.

"Let the test begin!"

. . . . . . . . . . . .

Peter ducked, cursing under his breath as Susan frowned.

"So… you need to get access to a computer thing?" she asked quietly.

The two were hiding behind a set of bushes on a suburban street, Peter desperately peeking into every house trying to find one empty but so far no luck.

Peter nodded tersely, gritting his teeth, acutely aware of how much time had passed since their friends had been taken. His hair sparked, lightning dancing across his skin as he punched the ground in frustration, eyes darkening. His blood boiled at the numerous delays, his mind awhirl with nightmarish scenes of torture and death. Beside him, Susan merely smiled.

"Easy," she stood up as Peter squawked, blinking before hissing violently at her to get back down, "Come on!"

Peter froze, unsure of what to do but Susan was already sweeping up the front lawn towards the house's doors. Her face was stone-set, her back ramrod straight. Her brother's cries fell on deaf ears, her companions' faces the only thing in her mind. Every minute wasted meant another minute they were held their enemies' dangerous grasp. If Susan could spare them a single second of suffering than she'd do whatever it took, even if it meant risking her life.

Cursing Peter leapt to his feet, his Gift disabling the nearby cameras as Susan knocked on the door.

It swung open, a beaming man opened his mouth to greet them jovially. He stopped, blinking in surprise.

"YOU! You're the one that Malik Industries wants to…" he spluttered.

"I know," Susan said simply, not batting an eye, "My brother and I have come to our senses. We wish to contact Malik Industries. May we use your… uhh… phone?"
The man instantly smiled, clapping her on the back and congratulating her profusely for her sensible decision.

"Of course!" he said trustingly, eagerly wanting to help, "Come in! Come in!"

The people in this world were like mindless sheep and Susan was ruthlessly exploiting this fact to get what she wanted. Armed as she was with daggers and bow and arrows, the man barely seemed to notice, violence and weapons completely unknown to the average citizen. He merely beamed at her and ushered her into his house, Peter's jaws dropping at the man's utter unawareness of his danger.

The High King stepped into the house after them, his mind roving and instantly finding a computer upstairs as the man continued to babble on, praising the Malik Industries with endless awe. Peter touched Susan's arm and nodded at her. The queen merely blinked before turning back to the man.

"Thank you very much," she beamed as he handed her a phone, "I don't know what I was thinking before running away."
"It doesn't matter. No harm done," the man grinned, "Don't you worry about anything. Malik Industries will have you sorted out in no…"

Susan punched him straight in the face, twisting her body and putting her weight behind the blow. It was a crushing blow, the man instantly crumpling to the ground as Susan tossed the phone away.

"Hurry," she ordered, slamming the front doors shut.

Peter nodded and instantly raced upstairs, the sounds of fabric ripping chasing him. He instantly found the computer, turning it on with a push of his mind.

Back at the Academy in the last world, Gaspar had tested the strength of all of his stolen Gifts. He had sat Peter in front of a computer and told him to use Lauren's powers, technopathy, to enter the Internet.

Peter had been confused, not understanding a thing the headmaster had told him but when he actually tried it everything came to him, all the foreign terminology and skills entering him in one breath-taking rush. He had managed to hack into several secure websites under Gaspar's careful eye, his Gift directing his every move as Peter find himself negotiating something he had never encountered before, something he could have never imagined even existed.

He did the same thing here, connecting with the web and letting his consciousness flow into it. It took a mere thought to get him to Malik's Industries website, page after page flashing through the screen as he sought what he needed. He tried to plunge in deeper, seeking the company's files and trying to enter their system but walls were instantly thrown in his way, protection programs retaliating with a battery of counterattacks as Peter braced himself.

Before he had fled when he countered such protections but now he threw himself into them, plunging into a battle that was playing out in a world that didn't exist, disabling all of the programs with ruthless power and efficiency. His hands flew across the keyboard in a complex dance, elegant and swift like a maestro at a piano, weaving a masterpiece of malicious attacks, invading Malik Industries' own system with mind-boggling speed.

Lauren's Gift took control of his body and mind, instinctively knowing what to do as it erased bits of code, constructed viruses to invade the system, did a thousand things that Peter barely understood to get what he wanted.

Sweat poured down his face as his mind began to numb with fatigue but still Peter burrowed deeper, encountering more and more complex protections, breaking each one, decrypting, hacking, barely aware of what he was doing and suddenly he was through.

Susan jumped back as her brother straightened, sucking in a deep breath and his consciousness with it, his mind leaping from the computer and back into his head.

"Peter?!" the queen grabbed him, blue eyes worried.

Peter turned to her, sweat-drenched and exhausted but triumphant.

"I know where they are!"

. . . . . . . . . . . .

Skeletal metal arms unfolded from the wall, gears whirring, as Inara and Caspian cried out, trying to move away but they were chained once more to the ground, heavy chains limiting their movements.

"INARA!" Caspian roared.

The girl yelped as one of the arms leapt at her, a needle in its steel claws sticking into her flesh. She struggled helplessly but the metal prongs dug in deeper, drawing blood. There was a soft pneumatic hiss as the syringe plunged down, a burning cold fluid entering Inara's body as she screamed in pain.

Caspian endured his injection with gritted teeth and suddenly the mechanical arms retracted back into the wall.

"What…"

Inara choked, clutching at her heart as it suddenly thundered against her ribcage. Her body was suddenly encased in ice then burning fire, pain spinning her world around wildly.

"What's happening?" she cried frantically, struggling to sit up as nausea punched her.

Caspian cried out, jerking at his chains, flailing wildly as his body reacted to whatever they had just been given.

'You have both just been injected with a poison,' a voice boomed.

Caspian and Inara froze, horror all over their faces as the voice continued, amplified and echoing in the small confines of the black room.

'There is an antidote…'

A section of the floor in the centre of the room fell away, a small raised pedestal rising. Lying on the stand was a single syringe, filled with a sickly green fluid that glowed with light.

'But there is only enough for one of you. Your goal is simple…'

The voice laughed as Inara and Caspian stared at each other, their bodies shaking from the effects of their poison, both of them wanting to throw up, terror running through veins and nerves.

'Fight for the cure.'

And the voice fell silent as Inara and Caspian looked at the syringe. Inara was trembling, shaking her head furiously as she tried to make sense of what was happening, refusing to believe that this was happening.

Caspian was at war with himself, the Telmarine in him coldly commanding him to grab the antidote at all costs as the others parts of him stumbled, reeling from the revelation.

With a click their shackles fell away and the experiment began.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

Nathaniel… the man that would one day become Jason, smiled up at his wife softly, tears threatening to fall. The three suns of Lawless were setting, heavy and red as they dipped blow the sloping sand dunes of the horizon, their dying light painting the world orange and purple.

"You're…" he didn't dare say the words, afraid that this would all just melt away and become a dream.

"I'm pregnant," Yolanda laughed.

The woman was gracious and beautiful and as always Nathaniel thanked the heavens and every god in them she had deemed him worthy of her love. He was struck once more by just how beautiful she really was, the kindness in her shining from her eyes, turning her voice into honey.

"You can say it you know," the woman teased, her bell-like laughter ringing out, "It won't bite. Well, not yet but I can't promise you it won't eventually."
Nathaniel laughed and grabbed her swinging her around as he showered kisses on her face, Yolanda joining his laughter, meeting his lips again and again as they clung to each other.

"A baby," Yolanda whispered, burying her face into his neck, "We're going to have a baby!"

Nathaniel laughed again, kissing her once more, her lips opening to allow him entrance. Gently he placed one hand on her flat belly, a stomach that would slowly swell as their child grew within.

It was a miracle, one that he scarcely dared to believe.

"Wow," Nathaniel smiled, dazed, "Wow."

Yolanda laughed against his lips and wrapped her arms around him, slowly leading him back into their bedroom.

Later, hours later in the dim of the night and silvery shine of Lawless's twin moons, Nathaniel lied awake in his bed, staring down at his beautiful wife.
She was flawless, a goddess amongst mortals. She turned dark hair framing her moonlit face, exotic and impossibly ethereal. As timid and gentle as he was, Nathaniel knew he could march through hell itself to protect her and their child. He clenched his fists, vowing to spend the rest of his days loving her and giving her everything she could possibly want.

"I love you," he whispered against her hair, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead.

He turned in bed, looking up at the roof, looking at the shadows dancing across the ceiling as a cold wind swept through the open windows, tossing the curtains about.

Gingerly he pulled the sheets up, covering his wife tenderly.

Their marriage had not been an easy one, some of the many suitors his wife had spurned less than eager to relinquish their claims. Men, some of them powerful and cruel beyond measure had pursued his wife for years promising her wealth and status and a million petty things, not knowing her well enough to realise that Yolanda couldn't give a whit about such superficialities.

She cared not for clothes or fancy balls, wanting nothing more than someone to love her for her, not for her beauty or her body but for her sweetness and for her kindness as well as her flaws. And in Nathaniel she had found her wish, uncaring that he was a mere junior accountant, uncaring that he had no power or wealth to speak of. She was a romantic, believing in soul-mates and true love even as others mocked her and to her Nathaniel was the one.

Men had condemned her, cursed her and called her a thousand names as she had turned them away but Yolanda for all her softness had a will of iron and she had chosen Nathaniel to be by her side. She held her head up high even as shockwaves rippled through town, gossipers eagerly spreading the news like a disease, rumours of debauchery and snide remarks exchanged like coins.

Her once-suitors had come in their droves soon afterwards, threatening Nathaniel with violence and more, jealous women becoming harpy-tongued, nasty rumours following the couple like ravens after flesh.

Nathaniel's blue eyes darkened as he remembered the events of just this morning. Whittaker, a man famous only for his spite and utter foulness, had confronted him in his office, promising bloody vengeance if Yolanda did not come with him. Nathaniel had shook in his boots as he tried to turn the man away, his voice trembling like his limbs.

A crowd had quickly gathered to watch, roaring with laughter as Whittaker's rum-fuelled breath stung his eyes, the ruffian grabbing the hapless Nathaniel by the neck and tossing him across the room.

Nathaniel had stared up at him, dazed and confused, bloodied as Whittaker jabbed a single fat finger at him.

"Either she comes with me or you're both dead!" he roared as the crowd tittered, mocking the downed accountant, "I swear me life on it!"

Whittaker had stormed off as Nathaniel had rose, red and shame-faced, ignore the crowd as best as he could as he scurried away.

Nathaniel grimaced at the remembered insult.

"BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!"

The timid accountant jumped as the small table beside the bed began shaking violently, wood rattling on wood, the whole thing threatening to fall apart. Nathaniel's head snapped towards the furniture, terrified.

"No," he cursed, exasperated, "Not again."

"BANG!BANG!BANG!BANG!"

The picture hanging over their bed joined in, its frame clattering against the wall as Nathaniel looked up frantic. The bed began to leap, thumping loudly against the floor as Yolanda moaned in her sleep.

The whole room began to shake, the windows rattling in their panes as a vase fell form the shaking table, shattering against the ground. Nathaniel blanched as he was suddenly caught in the centre of an earthquake, his wife sleeping deadened next to him.
Nathaniel hastily took a long deep breath, cooling his anger as the rattling furniture slowed then stilled, silence once more falling over the room. Nathaniel stared down at his shaking hands, cursing the demon that existed in him, cursing the powers that flowed through his veins. Such people were usually discovered in childhood and burnt at the stake but Nathaniel's parents had been careful keeping him hidden and teaching him ways to control the monster inside of him. But still he lived in perpetual fear, afraid that at any moment he'd be caught and punished. And now… he had Yolanda and a baby to worry about. Nathaniel closed his eyes and reverently prayed that his child would not be afflicted like him.

The accountant sighed, feeling the power leave his body as he turned to Yolanda's sleeping form, the sight of her instantly calming her, lulling him in a sleepy realm of utter serenity.

Despite it all the obstacles their love had grown and now it had produced a child.

Nathaniel smiled, his hands finding her stomach once more.

"I love you," he whispered, kissing her again, "Never leave me."

Foul with sweat but not wanting to move and risk waking his wife up, Nathaniel closed his eyes and went to sleep.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

"WHAT THE HELL?!" Inara screamed at the walls, "WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!"
She was shaking, panting as the poison ran through her body. Inara tried to stagger to her feet but stumbled, her vision blurring as the toxin took hold.

"No…" she grabbed at the walls, slipping, "No… I…"

"Take it!" Caspian growled at her.

"What?!"

Her head snapped towards him incredulously.

"What?!"
The Narnian had risen, his chin set stubbornly, his eyes blazing.

"Take it! Take the cure!" he yelled.

"Are you crazy?!" Inara yelped, "NO! I'm not letting you…"
"Only one of us can use it," Caspian said flatly, "I can hold out longer than you."

"And what die in my healthy arms?" Inara shot back, "Susan will kill me!"
Caspian gritted his teeth, temper flaring as sweat rolled down his face and back, his heart slamming heavily against his chest, threatening to crush itself against his ribs.

"Susan will kill me if you die as well!" the king snarled, "And I'm pretty sure Peter will strike me down with lightning bolts! Not to mention what Jason, Elias or Zaru might do!"

Inara steadied her against the wall, her legs shaking as her breath quickened to an almost painful pace, her body struggling to get in enough air.

"They need you more!" Inara protested, speaking hard uncomfortable truths, "Shaggy! You're a king! You're meant to return to Narnia or whatever the hell is you rule and save your people!"

Caspian flinched at her words, the familiar dark tide of guilt rising in his gullet as he thought of his people leader-less and at the mercy of an unimaginable threat. He was meant to be there, meant to lead, meant to…

"You can't die here!" Inara threw the words like a spear, "You're needed. I… I'm not."

She leaned against the wall, groaning as fire ripped through her stomach.

"I'm not," Inara clung on, glaring at him, "Take the damn cure you stubborn ass!"

Caspian glared at her.

"I deserve this," Caspian said flatly, "For what I did... what I've done... I deserve it."

There was no way in hell he was going to take the cure and watch one of his friends and ally die before him. He had caused so much misery already, hurting Mallory and Susan and before that failing his family, hurting Shirona and Ruy, letting Trumpkin and Trufflehunter and the other Narnians down...

This was punishment.

"Inara! I will not take it!" he was vaguely aware he was sounding like a petulant child but he pushed on, "Take it!"

"Caspian..." Inara realised just how much Caspian loathed himself, "No..."

The two of them stared at each other, both as unmovable as mountains. They were both shaking, their bodies screaming as the poison attacked them but still their gazes were steady, their faces set into masks of steel.

Up above through a section of wall that was actually a disguised window, Marcos cursed loudly as Elias prayed, his face pale.

"Why aren't they fighting?!" the head of Malik Industries screamed, "They should be fighting!"

"Because they're friends," Elias snarled at him, furious, tears in his eyes, "You think people just forget things like that?! They won't fight each other. Not for this. They're willing to sacrifice themselves to save the other!"

Marcos screamed as Elias pushed him away, triumphant even as he wept for his friends and his family.

"You think everyone is as dark and twisted as you!" Elias pointed at the window, "LOOK AT THEM! You think everyone is weak! LOOK AT THEM! LOOK!"
Marcos howled in fury, backhanding Elias before stabbing a button with his finger.

"YOU HAVE ONE MINUTE TO DECIDE!" he screamed, his voice rife with madness and insanity, "CHOOSE OR YOU BOTH DIE!"

His words were broadcasted into the room, bouncing off the walls as the transmission ended on a piercing screech.

Inara looked at Caspian bleakly, taking in his stubborn face and set stance.

"Okay…" she sighed.

She licked her dry lips.

"I'll take it," she croaked.

Caspian smiled, falling against the wall.

"Thank you," he whispered, the weight of his shoulders fading, "Thank you."
"Just… bring it here," Inara coughed, sliding further down the wall, "I don't think I can…"

Slowly Caspian forced himself to move across the room, kneeling and scooping up the syringe from its stand before walking to Inara, every movement sending stabs of pain up his spine.

"Here…" his hands were shaking, his visions dimming as the poison took his strength.

Inara reached out with trembling hands, taking the syringe off him. She looked up at him, tears and crushing guilt on her face.

"I'm…" she stopped, wincing as another wave of pain assaulted her, "I'm sorry…"

"Don't be," Caspian smiled.

His eyes fluttered close, thoughts of Narnia and Aslan and Susan floating through his head. He grimaced, knowing once again he had failed them all, he was so tired of being sorry, of feeling nothing but regret and loss.

'I'm sorry,' he begged, Aslan's stern face in his mind, 'Forgive me.'

His eyes flew open, a gasp leaving his lips as needle stabbed his flesh.

"What?! NO!"

Inara stared up at him, smirking, her face pale and sweat drenched.

"Sorry," she whispered, "Couldn't do it."
And she pushed the plunger down injecting Caspian with the antidote. Caspian stared down at her in open horror as she wilted, her hands falling away.

"Why?" he begged, "Why?"

"Like I said…" Inara rasped, "Queenie needs you. Narnia needs you. You're a king. Haven't you played chess before?"

Caspian's eyes widened as the pain and the poison flowing in him faded, neutralised by the antidote. Inara merely smiled.

"Please..." Inara whispered, "Promise me... don't hate yourself. Just don't. We forgive you."

And she slumped in his arms, her breathing rapid and shallow, mere whispers of air.

"I promise," Caspian wept, "I promise."

'ARGH!' the loudspeakers came to life, the voice coming through loud and furious, 'JILL TAKE THEM AWAY!'

Up in the observation room, Marcos turned away, curses spewing from his lips as Elias righted himself, hatred in his dark eyes.

"Looks like the human spirit does win out after all," the scientist spat.

Marcos snarled.

"There are exceptions but almost everyone is weak. You'll see just how weak everyone truly is," the false-god said coldly, "I'll show you."
Grabbing Elias by the shirt, he dragged him out of the room. Elias allowed himself to be led, his head hung as he prayed for Inara. Suddenly he looked up and stared straight into Marcos's eyes.

The madman recoiled from the hate in his old friend's gaze.

"For what you did to her," Elias said slowly and carefully, "I will kill you."

And he turned away, lips clamping shut as Marcos shook himself, unnerved as the guards swarmed around them, leading them towards their next destination and experiment.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

His daughter had been born as a wild sandstorm swept the town, the desert rebelling against the unsightly blemish upon its undulating dunes by unleashing its wrath. People had scrambled for cover, praying frantically as a shrieking tempest battered the buildings, walls creaking and groaning in pain, threatening to topple and let them drown in endless sand.

Nathaniel didn't remember much of that day, only of his nerves and shakes as Quentin, his closest friend, tried to soothe him, joking and laughing as his friend turned paler and paler.

The winds had howled and roared like a thousand stampeding beasts but it was a mere whimper compared to the blood-curdling screams flying out from their bedroom, each cry clamp around Nathaniel's lungs, his courage threatening to give out at any moment.

The labour had been long, the birth-bed bloody but finally hours after the ordeal started, Delilah McLaughlin was welcomed into the world, screaming like the desert itself.

Nathaniel had held her and wept at the beauty of it all, baptising his daughter with tears as the mid-wife chuckled.

"She's got some lungs on her that one!" the old woman crowed, "Looks like you have a handful to deal with now!"
Quentin had laughed, slapping him on the back as Delilah stared up at him, her little pink face scrunched up as she screamed. And in that moment Nathaniel had fallen in love with another woman.

"She's beautiful," he whispered, his voice breaking, "Just like his mother."

Yolanda had smiled tremulously up at him, sweat-drenched and exhausted.

"Just like his father," she echoed as Nathaniel kissed her again and again.

That had been ten years ago.

"Papa! Papa!"
Nathaniel turned, an open smile on his bearded face as Delilah rushed at him, almost tripping in her haste to get to her beloved father.

Delilah was his mother's daughter, beautiful and lively, a chatterbox that charmed everyone and terrified her teachers.

"Guess what?! Guess what?!" she grinned toothily leaping into her father's arm.

Standing in the middle of the street, Nathaniel laughed as he swung his daughter around. Yolanda hurried up the street towards them, shaking her head in exasperation. Passer-bys smiled at her, greeting her warmly as Yolanda smiled graciously back, the dark mutterings of yester-years having faded long ago, the young family now a welcomed part of the whole community.

"Guess what I learnt at school today?" Delilah beamed, playing with her dad's tie.

"What? Did you learn to speak when you're spoken to Ladybug?" Nathaniel teased, jiggling his daughter slightly as she squealed.

"Noooooo…" Delilah poked him the cheek as Nathaniel flinched, laughing at his reaction, "I learnt that…"

And she proceeded to regale him with her whole day, babbling none stop, words running together in her excitement.

"Did you give her sugar?" Nathaniel accused, turning to look at his wife.

Yolanda laughed, the melodious sound tinkling down the street as everyone nearby grinned despite themselves. Men still looked jealously at Nathaniel but it was a look of envy rather than domineering greed.

"No but Uncle Quentin did," she said dryly.

"Quentin…" Nathaniel muttered, rolling his eyes.

His best friend doted on Delilah, spoiling her outrageously. It was no wonder that his daughter loved him like a second father.

"Speaking of the devil himself…" Yolanda chuckled.

Quentin jogged up to them, dressed neatly in a dark suit, his fedora jammed on top of his messy curls as always. Delilah instantly stared squirming in her father's arms, eager to go greet him. Nathaniel sighed, letting her go as Yolanda slid smoothly into her face, kissing her husband warmly.

His arms slid around her, the kiss deepening as Delilah gagged, Quentin laughing uproariously.

"Mama! Papa! Yerk!" Delilah squealed.

"Ignore her," Nathaniel whispered as Quentin gagged with Delilah, "If we ignore them, they'll go away."

Yolanda rolled her eyes and turned away as Quentin beamed at them, Delilah still gagging beside him.

"That's disgusting!" Delilah moaned.

"Yeah!" Quentin agreed.

Nathaniel and Yolanda rolled their eyes.

"Don't you just love her?" Quentin grinned, ruffling his goddaughter's head.

"So when are you going to get one?" Nathaniel asked wickedly.

"What?!" Quentin squawked.

"When are you going to get your own children?" Yolanda joined in sweetly, "I know Lily's looking for a huge family. Of course…"

"You have to get married first," Nathaniel joined in smoothly, an unholy smile on his face.

Quentin turned a delicate shade of green, the normal reaction to questions about his bachelor status despite him courting Lily, the local schoolmistress, for two years now.

"I…" he fell over his own words, "Well, there's…"
"Coward," Nathaniel taunted as Quentin flushed.

A sudden silence fell over the bustling street as a stranger walked amongst their midst, people freezing in their paths. The small family and Quentin turned, the adults stiffening as the tall enigmatic stranger looked to them, sharps eyes piercing their bodies.

Yolanda clutched at her husband suddenly deathly afraid as Nathaniel quaked, trying to avoid the man's eyes but they followed him, drilling deep and mining a vein of fear.

"Papa…"
Quentin gently touched Delilah, hushing her as the man walked by. His cloak flapped in a sudden breeze, pulling back to reveal two curved razor-sharp daggers that gleamed in the sunlight. He turned the corner and disappeared as the crowd on the streets turned to each other, silent and frightened.

"What is he doing here?!" Quentin demanded as snatches of conversation rose in the crowd.

Nervously he pushed his fedora back, moping at his wet brows.

"I don't…" Nathaniel licked his dry lips, "I don't…"
"Papa?"
Nathaniel looked to his daughter, still alarmed. Delilah was looking at him curiously.

"Who was that man?"

It was Yolanda who spoke, her smooth face drawn into a frown.

"That was someone you don't want to meet my dear," Yolanda said gently, hugging her daughter to her with one arm, her worried eyes finding Nathaniel's, "A Seeker."

. . . . . . . . . . . .

The five prisoners were emaciated, bleak eyes protruding from faces that were almost skeletal. They moved painfully, their joints grinding with each move as their skin dangled from stick-thin bones, their breath rattling in their lungs. They sat on the ground staring blankly ahead, waiting, begging for death to touch their shoulders and take them away. All of them had been viciously tortured, all lame and bleeding, their heads shaved and riveted with deforming scars from terrible experiments and surgeries, their skulls having literally been pried apart.

'The game is simple. There are five of you. Not all of you can leave alive. There are two options,' Marcos explained calmly, his voice harsh through the loudspeakers, 'One of you sacrifices yourself and the other four are free to leave.. Or you fight each other to the death and the last survivor leaves. If you do nothing, you all die. Decide. Now.'

The five prisoners stared at each other, suddenly ablaze with a hope that turned them all into hungry demons.

"One of us should sacrifice ourselves…" a man croaked.

The group stiffened, one woman's face contorting in a feral mask, her fingers curling into claws as she whirled on him.

"What?!" she barked, spittle dribbling from her lips, "Are you offering yourself?!"

The rest of the group instantly turned on him, following the leader, ugly in their fury and hate, desperate to save their own skins. They looked at him with hunger in their eyes, hands twitching as some began to lick their lips.

"NO!" the man protested frantically, backing away from them, "But come on four leaves compared to one. We've got to think about this!"

He looked at them, begging them with his eyes to consider, to think logically but the others returned his gaze with snarls and curses.

"I'm not sacrificing myself! No way!" another man screamed, dementedly, "If you want to do the right thing go right on ahead!"

"Me neither!" one of the women shrieked, jumping in hurriedly, "I've got three young children to think of!"
"I've got a dying mom!" another man yelled desperately.

Like a pack of dogs on a runt, they turned on him, mocking and snapping.
"Oh as if!" the fifth man spat, "You wish! You're all liars! You're just cowards!"

"Then why don't you do it!" the first woman jabbed her fingers at him, "GO ON! BE THE HERO!"
"Why don't you go to hell you wench!" the man screamed back, "I don't see you offering!"

The five people glared at each other, sizing each other up. The biggest of the men bit right through his lips, blood dripping down his jaws as his eyes narrowed, singling out the slightest woman. The woman flinched, making herself smaller trying to make herself seem harmless as the man's hungry hot gaze turned to men. Dark looks flew across the room, the women looking at each other and nodding, a silent alliance forming as all of their minds cracked under the impossible pressure.

Suddenly a hole in the ceiling opened and a single knife fell from the roof.

It hit the ground with a clang and the five prisoners stared at it. The blade glinted, their lone key to freedom.

"MINE!"
One of the man leapt at the blade as the others lunged to stop him, the whole room descending into madness.
"ARGH!"

One woman fell back, blood gushing from her gut as the other four trampled her to death in their insanity. They were little more than animals, playing the bloodiest game of all – survival.

Two more men fell, holding their throat as the final man and woman stared at each other, the female holding onto the blood-slicked knife. The man screamed at her, trying to shake her nerves as the woman's eyes bulged.

"GARRGGGHHHH!"
With a bellowing scream the woman lunged forwards, stabbing at the man. He punched her, breaking her nose before tackling her to the ground. Pinning her down, he punched her again and again, her body twitching as blood coated the man's hands.

It took seven more minutes of mindless brutality before he staggered back, dazed. He looked around at all the dead bodies and looked up, laughing, cackling with glee, his eyes bright.

"I'm the only one left!" he screamed, his voice shooting up and hitting the ceiling, "LET ME GO! LET ME GO!"

'No.'

A stunned silence caught the man's throat, stilling his words. His eyes bulged as he staggered.

"WHAT?! YOU PROMISED!" the man screamed, his body shaking as tears spilled from his eyes, "YOU…"

'I promise nothing,' Marcos said softly, dangerously, 'But thank you anyway. You just proved my point.'

His voice faded leaving the man to fall to his knees, staring blankly at the four bodies around him in utter confusion, gazing upon them with a child's confused stare.

"What…" he whimpered, sobbing, tears and mucus and blood pouring down his face, "What…"

Marcos turned to Elias, the scientist white and utterly still.
"See?" he sneered, "I gave them a choice. One of them could've been brave, one of them could've been a hero and saved the others. But see what they did? They fought each other? They killed rather than do the right thing! See how utterly ugly the human spirit is?!"

Elias blinked and when he spoke, his voice was a viper's hiss.

"You tortured those poor people," Elias spat, his voice as cold as a knife against skin, "You broke their spirits and you turned them into monsters. You made them what they are. You made them into monsters."

His voice shook, Elias weeping for the pointless loss of four lives and the destruction of a man's soul.

"No human is born evil. Monsters are not born, they're made," Elias growled, "And you… you made them into demons. You're the monster here."

Marcos was furious, stamping his feet as he screamed in Elias's face.
"NO! I am a leader! I am enlightenment!" Marcos raged, "I am the light that is shining the way! LOOK! LOOK!"
He jabbed his fingers down at the room at the weeping man and the four dead bodies.
"SEE?! I simply gave them a little push and they turned on each other like sharks!" Marcos screeched, "Where was your human spirit? Where was your decency and righteousness?! Where are nobility and compassion! If you were right one of them would've sacrificed themselves for the others and yet they chose not to! They didn't even think to! They just know how to kill and hurt! And look!"

Elias was still as a statue, his eyes hot on Marcos's face.

"You're not anything but a depraved man who enjoys the pain of others," Elias hissed, "You're the one who made them kill each other. They're not wrong, you are."

Marcos stared at him, genuinely shocked before calming.

"So you won't believe me then. So be it," Marcos smiled coldly, "Alright. Then let's keep experimenting!"

"It doesn't matter what you do," Elias whispered, "I still believe."

And grabbing Elias's arms, he dragged the scientist out the room as the man they left behind wept, his mind slipping into insanity.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

Jill laughed straight at Inara's greying face.

"Oh, you fool," she sneered, "You noble, stupid fool."
She turned to Caspian, her black eyes flashing with amusement.

"So… how does it feel big boy?" she taunted, "Enjoy watching you friends die?"
Chuckling she forced the two of them down the hall, Caspian supporting Inara as she leaned against him weakly. Jill continued to mock them, her taunting words slicing into Caspian as he gritted his teeth, struggling to hold onto his calm. The possessed girl laughed wildly as Inara stumbled, Caspian grabbing her to keep from her falling.

"Shut up!" Caspian whirled on, furious, "JUST SHUT UP!"

Jill rolled her eyes.

"I'm not sure how this works back where you're from," she waved the gun at him, "See? Weapon. Me. Weapon. Me have power!"

Caspian gently leaned Inara against the wall before turning to Jill, hate in his eyes.

"I am going to…"

Jill coolly raised her gun and jammed it into his chest, her dark eyes flat.

"Come on," she hissed, "Attack me. I dare you!"

Caspian merely smiled at her.

"You should never put the gun up against someone," he said calmly, "It puts it within arm's reach. Really easy for them to…"

Before Jill could react, Caspian grabbed her wrist forcing her hand to the side.

"BANG!"
The gun went off, the bullet harmlessly slamming into the wall as Caspian swung at Jill, catching her with a right hook. She stumbled, the king wrenching the gun from her hands and kicking her down.

He towered over, breathing fast, the gun now is his hands as the possessed girl looked up, a smug wicked smile on her face.

"Oh come on," she taunted, rolling her eyes despite the danger she was in, "You're not going to hurt a downed girl are y…"
"BANG! BANG! BANG!"

Without even blinking Caspian fired point-blank into her belly, Jill's body jerking with each shot as blood splattered the walls.

"You're not a girl," Caspian hissed coldly.

And he didn't feel guilty. There was a monster here that needed to be destroyed just like he should've destroyed.

Stooping he rifled through her pockets, coming up with a strange circular object. Dismissing her, the king turned as Inara looked at him, dazed and disorientated as the poison continued to flow through her veins, attacking every organ in her body.

"Wha…" she shivered, her body suddenly ice cold.

"Come on," Caspian said gently, hooking her arms around his shoulder, half-supporting, half-carrying her, "We have to go."

He led her down the hall, his face thunderous as Jill's blank black eyes watched him leave.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

There was a brilliant flash of light and suddenly a stack of crates in one corner of the docking yard exploded, hungry blue flames stretching up and hastily gulping air and fuel as the pilots cried out in alarm.

Claxons and sirens instantly went off, adding to the chaos as the men scrambled to control the blaze.

"What happened?!" one of the pilots demanded frantically.

The dock's automatic sprinklers turned on dousing the flames as the pilots flinched, cold white seeping under their jumpsuits and chilling their skins but the fire was quickly erased, smoke hanging heavy in the air, foul with the stench of melted plastics.

"Glad I don't have to clean this up," one of the men smirked.

"Yeah, the plebs will," another laughed.

His voice rose, becoming higher.

"What?" he screeched, shaking with laugher, "Malik Industries wants me to do what? I loved Malik Industries! Please sir, tell me what to do! Can I lick your boots?"

The group of rough-looking men chortled as the actor finished by putting on the blank stupid smile that was the staple of this world.

"God they sicken me," one of the other captains smirked, "Glad I'm not Fixed."

"Even in a world of endless peace," the last two words were muttered with disdain, "Somebody needs to do the dirty work."

The captain shook his head.

"Oi, Jim! Check the hold! Make sure nobody's where they're not supposed to be!" he barked.

A scruffy looking young man moaned but nodded, walking up to one of the airships, the craft's wings folded up ready for take-off. He climbed up the ship's ramp towards it cargo bag, a small device held in his hands. Grumbling he waved the object around, the screen flickering a little before flashing green.

"All clear boss!" he tossed over his shoulders.

The captain grunted and tossed aside his cigarette before nodding to his fellow fliers. Ten minutes later the airship unfolded its wings and rose swiftly into the air, angling up towards the great blue sky.

Unknown to the crew two castaways, both royals of Narnia were aboard, hidden by a veil of shifting air.

Susan nodded at Peter as she clutched her bow to her.

'Hang on,' she said silently, praying, 'We're coming!'

Peter's mind was carefully blank, a crackling storm boiling in his veins as he waited for what was to come.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

"Papaaaaaaaaa…" Delilah expertly stretched the word into seven long syllables, her pink lips pointed out in a pout, "PLEASE?!"

Nathaniel looked up from his books, an ink pen in hand as he looked over his daughter's head as his wife exasperatedly. Yolanda smoothed a smirk with one hand as she turned back to her cooking.

"Please?"

Nathaniel groaned, trying to avoid his daughter's eyes knowing he had already lost.

"Pleaaaasssseeee?"
"Alright! Alright!" he threw up his hands in disgust, cursing his inability to say no to his daughter, "I'll get it for you!"

Sighing he stood up, tossing his pen aside as Delilah cheered, grabbing her tall father around the legs (the highest place she could reach) and hugging him tight. Nathaniel's ire instantly faded as he bent, kissing his beloved daughter on the head and ruffling her hair.

"You better head off now if you want to get back before sundown," Yolanda smiled as her husband glared at her.

"This is your fault you know," he muttered as Delilah skipped around their house, cheering on top of her lungs.

Yolanda gave him the most innocent of looks, eyelashes battering as she clasped her chest, letting out a loud theatrical gasp.

"Me?"

"If you haven't made our daughter so damn adorable I would be able to say no," Nathaniel muttered disgusted even as a smile raised his lips.

"Oh, poor baby…" Yolanda cooed.

She sashayed up to him, swinging her arms around his neck and drawing him into a tender kiss.

"Want me to make it all better?" she asked huskily.

Nathaniel's eyes darkened as a low groan rumbled his chest, pressing her closer to him, his lips finding her again as he ravished her.

"ERK! MAMA! PAPA!" Delilah shrieked, "YUCK!"

Nathaniel groaned again, pressing his face into his wife's neck before looking up at his disgusted daughter. Laughter bubbled out of his throat at the cross look on her face before he let go of his wife.

"Alright," Yolanda straightened his tie as he spoke, "My beautiful princess and queen. I'll be off. And you Ladybug…"
He pointed at Delilah.

"Be nice to your mother."
Delilah grinned at him angelically.

"And you," he quirked his eyebrows at Yolanda, "Have my dinner ready woman!"
Yolanda laughed and swatted him. Chuckling Nathaniel strolled out of his house, heading back towards town.

He frowned seeing Quentin jogging up the path towards him.

"Hey!" he called out.

Quentin looked up startled, his movements jumpy and erratic. His friend's usually open, smiling face was pale, his lips tinged with green. Nathaniel stopped, frowning.

"Are you feeling fine?" he asked.

Quentin tried to smile but it collapsed. He snatched his fedora from his head, turning it nervously in his hands.

"I'm great," he rasped out, eyes darting from side to side, "Just come to drop in and say hello to your darling wife and demon spawn. Where are you heading off to?"

"Town," Nathaniel sighed, "Delilah saw a ribbon in the shop and just had to have it."
He rolled his eyes but laughed good-naturedly.

"Well just in case I'm not there when you get back, goodbye," Quentin tried to smile again, this time it held but didn't reach his eyes, "Have fun!"
Nathaniel looked at him, concerned, but let it slide, whistling as he walked the familiar path to town.

It took him an hour to return, his daughter's azure ribbon tucked into his pocket, his coin pouch slightly lighter. Nathaniel looked up at the starry night sky and grimaced, knowing he was late.

A rush of heat swept down the path, hitting him hard as Nathaniel stumbled, taken by surprise.

"What?" his blue eyes widened as smoke drifted from around the sand dune, blotting out the night's sky "No…"

He sprinted up the hill, his jacket flapping in the wind as he pounded up the sand path. Gasping for breath, his lungs on fire, he whipped around the corner and…

"NO!"

The scream ripped itself from his throat, harsh and guttural as he fell to his knees.

"NO… YOLANDA?! DELILAH!?" he scrambled forwards, tripping, sprawling, "YOLANDA! DELILAH!"

He screamed, floundering through ash and embers, searing his hand on a piece of glowing red metal but still he searched, tears spilling down his face.

"YOLANDA?!"
"Over here."

Nathaniel's head snapped to the side. Quentin was crouched amongst the flaming debris of his once cosy house, the man's usually laughing face pale and shell-shocked.

"Quentin!" Nathaniel spoke the word like a prayer, "What happened? What?!"

Quentin turned and Nathaniel's eyes were immediately drawn to the limp bloody bundle in his arms.

And that's when the accountant's world collapsed.
"No. Please! NO! THIS CAN'T BE REAL!" Nathaniel screamed at Quentin.

The man flinched but said nothing.
"NO! NO! DELILAH! DELILAH! LADYBUG!"
Nathaniel lunged forwards shoving Quentin aside before scooping his little girl up. Her eyes were closed as though in sleep, the blood on her dress giving lie to that illusion. Nathaniel touched her cheeks with shaking hands.

"Delilah. Delilah. Delilah."
He sobbed and cried and cursed for hours, days, years, rocking his baby back and forth, his screams piercing the desert and flying over the long dunes of sand like a bird in the night.

"Delilah…"

He turned to Quentin, his eyes wide and filled with madness. In the light of the flickering fires, he was a demon.

"What happened?!" he spat, "WHAT HAPPENED?!"
Quentin looked away, his face ashen, shamed to his core.

"I'm sorry," his best friend whispered, "I had no choice."
Nathaniel froze, his bloody daughter still clutched to his chest.
"What did you do?" Nathaniel demanded, "LOOK AT ME DAMN YOU! WHAT DID YOU DO!?"

His words were like spears, swords, an army battering Quentin, forcing him to speak.

"They had Lily… they told me if I didn't help them. If I didn't trick Yolanda into letting them in…" Quentin sobbed brokenly, "I'm sorry Nathaniel! I'M SORRY!"
Nathaniel stared at him for the longest time, his body utterly still. When he spoke, his words were flat and emotionless.

"Where is she? Where is Yolanda?"

"She's alive," Quentin croaked, "They took her. And Delilah… oh god! Delilah!"
He reached for his goddaughter but Nathaniel punched him in the face, knocking him away.

"Who took her?" he hissed.

"Whittaker. He's mad and he's drunk and… he…." Quentin stopped.

He began mumbling, desperately, his words melting into each other as he shook.

"He… I never meant for this to happen," he finished stupidly.

"I hate you."
Quentin look at his friend, stunned but he quickly nodded, crying brokenly.

"I'm sorry…" he begged, "I never meant for…"
"NEVER MEANT?!" Nathaniel shrieked, "YOU LET WHITTAKER INTO MY HOUSE! WHAT THE HELL DID YOU THINK WAS GOING TO HAPPEN!"

"They had Lily!" Quentin begged, naming his beloved, "THEY HAD HER AND THEY WERE GOING TO… OH GOD! I WAS TRAPPED! I…"
Nathaniel rose to his feet, Delilah still in his arms, her body cold against his chest. He looked down at her, weeping, his tears falling on her face like when she'd first be born and he held her for the first time.

Memories, terrible taunting memories haunted, his laughing, loving daughter dancing through his head.

Nathaniel screamed.

"YOU KILLED HER!" he bellowed like a god delivering judgement.

He pointed and white fire flared from his fingers. The power that Nathaniel had been cursed with all his life rose in him, hot and hungry, baying for blood. He did not flinch, did not hesitate, he took every single drop of power and threw it all at his friend, striking him down.

Quentin gave one terrified shriek as the power ripped through him. His body flopped to the smoking round as Nathaniel wept.

"Delilah… Delilah…"

He knelt, gently laying his daughter on the sand. He gently stroked her cheeks, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the ribbon she'd so desperately wanted.

He stared at it, confused.

This was it. This single innocent piece of fabric had been the reason why he had left his family in danger. The reason why he had not been there to defend her, protect her as he had vowed to do so many times in his life.

"I'm sorry baby… I'm so sorry…"
Gently he gathered her hair and tied it with the ribbon. He smiled at her, hardly seeing her through his tears.

"You look beautiful."

He rose, pointing at the ground and concentrating, his powers coming to him, as easy to control as his own limb. The ground shuddered and gave way, a rough grave opening up in the ground.

He lowered his daughter into it before covering it up again, his power sweeping sand and dirt over her, sealing her into the earth forever.

Like a zombie, Nathaniel turned, vaguely aware that his hair was smoking, singed by the cinders that still leapt from the flaming ruins of his house.

Almost absently he reached down and grabbed his dead friend's beloved fedora and jammed it onto his head.

"I hope you burn in hell," Nathaniel whispered before turning and marching off into the desert, his powers directing him towards the one shining light left in his life.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

Jill sat up, gasping for breath.

"Son of a – " she cursed, coughing up blood.

She staggered to her feet, wincing as she dug her fingers into her own body digging out the bullets.

'Miss there's been a breach in security,' a voice stammered nervously, her walkie-talkie turning on, 'I have visual on the escapees. Should I call security?'

"Damn right there's been a breach!" Jill screamed into the phone, furious, "I've been shot! You know how much that hurts."

The man on the line wisely stayed silent as Jill straightened, black eyes flashing.

"Don't call security. I'll handle it," she spat, "And if you even think about telling the boss remember how I grabbed the man's head and ripped it from his neck."

A long silence came through the line.

"Remember?" Jill hissed.

'Yes…' the man's voice was shaking.

"Good, because that would only be a taster for what I do to you if you fail me," Jill spat, "Got it?"

'YES!'

Jill sneered and marched down the hall, fists clenching as she salivated at the thought of having Caspian in her hands.

"You're dead," she muttered, "You and your little friend."

Howling in fury, the possessed girl clenched her fists and took off in hot pursuit.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

Zaru whimpered as the scientist jammed the electrode into his chest, laughing as the leopard convulsed wildly, shrieking in pain.

"Dance!" the man cried, clapping, "DANCE!"
Zaru screamed, his fur singed, his whole body aflame with agony. But still he held on. Susan would come and save him. Susan would come and save him.

It was his mantra, his belief, his lone hold on sanity.

Susan would come and save him. Susan would come and…

"ARRRRRRRGGGHHHHH!"

The leopard bucked, hissing furiously. A set of hardened steel cages to his left shook, the bolts attaching them to the walls jingling loose from their moorings as the creatures within howled and screamed, battering themselves against their cage.

"Sir!"

The scientist looked up, the sparking prod held in his hands as one of assistants rushed towards him.

"Something's happening with the tube," the assistant said urgently, "There's some sort of neural disturbance."

"External?" the scientist barked.

The assistant flinched as the creatures in the cage screamed again, howling at the top of their voices.

"Damn Pretas," the scientist muttered as the assistant hurriedly recovered.

"Negative sir," he said quickly answer his superior's previous question, "Some external source is interfering with the tube. You have to look at it now!"

The scientist cursed before turning back to Zaru, the leopard slumped on the cage floor gasping desperately for breath.

"Alright, we'll play later," the scientist promised, "Cage close!"

The cage slammed shut, trapping Zaru once more. The scientist laughed before tossing the prod away, burnt fur clinging to its tip. Through bleary eyes Zaru watched him leave.

"Bastard..." the leopard groaned.

He looked up, praying it would work.

"Cage open!" he boomed.

And the cage door instantly slid open. Allowing himself one pained smile the leopard slid out, crawling as every muscle in his body shrieked in protest.

Susan would come for him but who said he had to wait for her?

Zaru turned and look at the cages all around him, all the snarling, howling, roaring beasts within and a wicked smile curved his lips.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

He walked through the desert, the cold and his hunger nothing compared to the ice in his mind and the fire in his heart.

"Whittaker. Whittaker. Whittaker."

Why had he come back? Why had the brute struck after so many years?

But the questions were swept aside as Nathaniel walked, his powers whispering to him, telling him where to go.

"Stop."

Nathaniel looked up, his face blank as a shadowy figure emerged from beyond the crest of a dune, staring down at him.

It was the Seeker, his daggers gleaming in the moonlight.

"Why?" Nathaniel screamed, the winds and the sands responding to his fury, "What are you doing here!?"

"I've been hired."
Nathaniel's eyes widened.
Seekers were notorious in Lawless, solitary bounty-hunters and mercenaries, men and women had lived at the fringes of society, above and beyond normal law, despised and feared as much as they were respected and needed.

Each Seeker was a deadly warrior in his own right, his prodigious skill with fists and blades matched with a quick mind and tracking skills that allowed them to hunt their quarry down like hounds after a rabbit.

They were also capricious, free of any code of honour or mercy, taking jobs that offered the most money whether it be killing those who deserved it or those who were innocent. Lords, sheriffs, workers, women and babes had all fallen to their blades, the pages of history stained by the works of Seekers.

It was always about the coin.

They were the creators of new powers, destructors of kingdoms, slayers of the rich and the bane of the poor. They were chaos, wherever they went change inevitably followed.

Little was known about them, where they came from, where they trained, how they came to be it was all part of the enigmatic myth that shrouded the Seekers, those mere mortals elevated to the pedestal of angels and demons.

"To kill you," the Seeker said calmly, unsheathing his long curved daggers.

"Okay," Nathaniel whispered.

Power flared in his eyes and from his body, a sandstorm roaring to life as the Seeker blinked, faltering for the first time his life.

Wreathed in white light and in a cold deadly purpose, Nathaniel merely blinked.

"Try your best," he stated flatly, "And the victor walks away."

The Seeker gritted his teeth and charged, screaming but he was nothing compared to the fury incarnate that Nathaniel had become. The grieving father pointed his hands, white power shooting forwards and impaling the mercenary straight through the chest.

The Seeker's eyes widened, blood drenching the desert sands as Nathaniel waved his hands, the white fire fading away.

Slowly he marched up the dune to tower over the dying Seeker. The bounty hunter screamed, slashing at him with his daggers but Nathaniel pointed and invisible hands pinned the man down to the sand, grinding him into the grit.

"Where is Whittaker?" he demanded.

The Seeker laughed.

"You think I'll tell you?" he screamed at him.
"Where is he?"

The Seeker clamped his mouth shut and Nathaniel sighed, white power flaring once more.

"Then be punished for you sins," Nathaniel hissed.

And he immolated the helpless man on the spot, deaf to his screams. When it was all over, Nathaniel knelt and scooped up the Seeker's fallen curved daggers, eyeing their razor edge.

He thrust them through his belt and turned continuing his march into the desert.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

"So what is this now?" Elias asked contemptuously, "Experiment number three?"

Marcos smiled at him, his grin slick and oily. The doors in front of them slid open revealing a cavernous chamber.

"So what sadistic rubbish have you come up with this time!?" Elias snarled.

"Just this," Marcos hissed.

Elias stumbled as Marcos shoved him in the back. The scientist tripped, sprawling into the ground as Marcos cackled. The thick metal doors slammed shut with a resounding bang, sealing the man in.

Cursing Elias rose, turning away from the door and peering cautiously into the darkness all around him.

"Help…" a low moan filtered through the air, "Help…"

"Hello? Who's there!" Elias yelled cautiously.

"Please sir… help me…" the voice groaned.

Gritting his teeth, Elias stepped into the darkness, his eyes slowly adjusting to the gloom as he shuffled forwards, his arms swinging wide around him as he floundered forwards.

He stopped, the meagre light bouncing off something before him.

"Please…"

The groan had dropped to a croaking whisper as desperate sobs reached Elias's ears.

"Don't worry," Elias called, "I'm coming. I'll…"

He stopped. And do what? He was trapped in this room as much as the poor suffering soul calling out to him. Terror rose but Elias forced it down, strolling resolutely into the shadows, following the direction of her whimpers.

He stopped, his jaws dropping as he finally found the source of the voice.

A woman blinked at him, her eyes feverish as blood pooled at her feet. She was stripped bare, her naked skin marked with a thousand lashes and cuts, the same deforming scars etched into her skull.

Chains gripped her thin wrists binding her spread-eagled to the wall.

"Oh…" Elias rushed forwards, tugging at the shackles to no avail, "I'll…"

'Elias.'

The woman whimpered, recoiling as Marcos's voice suddenly boomed in the darkness, grand and dreadful.

'Let me introduce you to your new playmate,' Marcos cooed, 'Her name is Mary. Mary is a mother of five who had a nasty habit of finding my paradise less than perfect.'

Mary whimpered as Marcos laughed, shrill and dark with insanity, drunk on his own power.

'Elias. You honestly believe that people are good, pure and decent at heart. That everyone is intrinsically good and will always do the right thing,' Marcos laughed, 'Fine. If you pass this test, I'll believe you.'

Elias tensed as Marcos continued, rambling on.

'Even back at the Institute when we were mere children we argued about this. I believed the way forward was with the iron fist. You need to breed the aggressiveness out of people using any means possible,' Marcos hissed, the loudspeakers screeching with static, 'You need to genetically manipulate them. Brainwash them. Do anything to create peace and harmony. The end justifies the means.'

"And I believe differently," Elias said stoutly, refusing to compromise what he believed regardless of the dangers, "You cannot control people like that. You cannot play games with them like that. The human mind is a sanctity we as scientist cannot ethically touch."

His words were hurled forwards as a challenge.

"To build a paradise? You need to trust the people. Yes, they will stumble, they will fall but eventually they will learn. All people are pacifists are heart. Yes, there are murderers and rapists and all manners of evil," Elias continued, the words flowing from him now, heated, passionate, "But these are exceptions. These are those who have been so twisted by their own experiences and other monsters that they become monstrous themselves. We must heal them. We much teach them."

Elias held his ground, his voice reverberating off the walls.

"And all it takes is a hero. A person to stand up and show them the way. That is the path forwards. Not through trickery or lies but through showing, teaching, trusting."
Elias stopped, his eyes wide, chests heaving. And in that moment he saw just how monstrous the Great Darkness was. Yes, it had dreams, grand dreams of peace and joy but the methods it had chosen, the brutality. Elias had believed the Great Darkness could be spoken to, could be brought to change its mind. But it was deluded, an insane as Marcos was.

The Great Darkness needed to be stopped, no matter the price, no matter the reason.

Marcos chuckled.

'Impassionate,' he noted dryly, 'Impressive. Very well. I will let you show me how good people are.'

Lights flooded the chamber, blinding Elias as Mary screamed, her eyes unused to the light. The chamber was stark, four high walls and a ceiling and nothing else.

'The human spirit cannot be showed for what it is unless you test it. Unless you throw people in the lion's den. Then all lies are stripped away. And you see the true person,' Marcos hissed, 'So Elias. This is your den. The rules are simple.'

Mary fell to the ground with a yelp as her chains loosened, letting her free.

'There are two of you. Only one may leave alive. If you are what you say you are, this will be simple,' Marcos cackled as Elias's eyes widened, 'Be that noble hero, Elias. Change the world! Show me just how strong the human spirit is, show me how pure and perfect we all are! SHOW ME!'

Mary looked at Elias in shock, trembling.

'This is your chance… make it count!'

Elias was lost, his mind reeling, trying to make sense of it all as the two of prisoners stared at each other for the longest time.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

Author's notes: So you finally get what you want – the truth behind Jason's past... hope you enjoy it!

Also thank you very much for past reviews! I'm glad so many of you enjoyed the change of pace as well as the more philosophical side of this arc.

So thank you Autumnia (You hit it on the head – this is exactly what I wanted to do, show what the Great Darkness is doing but on a much smaller scale), Lanzecki (next episode!), MyLuckyWhistle (yeah cheery people freak me out as well), Holly-Batali (thank you for being a long-term reader and reviewer!), lilbanili (what happened to your pictures?! They were awesome!), Emmaplease (1984 baby!), hisanachan (Jason's past! Voila!), Lissie1994 (first time reviewer eh? Keep it up!), Marie (glad you like the story), khajit (thanks always for your essays), bon (always reviewing – always appreciated) and ray1 (thanks always for your encouragement) – anyone I forgot to mention sorry but don't think you're unloved.