Collaboration with Glorifiedscapegoat.

Shion slept fitfully that night.

After the shock of waking up in Horizon Labs, and the anxiety of his interaction with Lab Coat, he had passed out for the rest of the day. He had only woken up once in the night to go to the bathroom—too groggy and desperate to be ashamed of the exposure it necessitated—and when that was done, he immediately fell onto his cot and into unconsciousness again.

Shion woke the next morning coated in a hot sheen of sweat, though the room itself was cool. He must have had a nightmare, though he couldn't remember it. He prayed for a moment that the events of yesterday were just that: a nightmare. But when he opened his eyes, he was not surprised to see the concrete cell around him. A bone-deep resignation settled over him.

His throat felt dry and sore, the way it did whenever he had strep as a kid, but there was something different today. Shion reached a hand up to his neck and felt bare skin; the bandages were gone.

Shion shot up into a sitting position and pressed the bruised skin, confused and frightened. He could feel a small, raised bump where the dart must have buried into his flesh. How had the bandages been removed without him noticing? He was by no means a light sleeper, but he definitely would have woken up if someone peeled tape and gauze from his throat. More importantly, the only way into the cell block was down a loud metal staircase, and if anyone had come down it in the middle of the night, it would have woken everyone.

Had he been drugged?

The white cylinder sat on the floor where he'd left it, unopened. If he were drugged, it had to have come from another source. Shion looked up. A slatted vent was embedded in the ceiling over his cot. It was likely for air circulation—they did appear to be in the basement of a building—but Shion imagined that other things could be pumped into the air through it.

What did Lab Coat say yesterday? "I, however, might have to gas you from time to time to get my work done."

Shion's fingers slipped from around his throat and dropped to his wrist, seeking comfort from the charm bracelet there.

He gasped and raised his arm, hoping to feel the familiar cool weight of the bracelet slide against his skin, expecting to hear the charms jangle against one another as they settled. But his wrist was light and bare, the air silent.

His charm bracelet—his most prized possession, his only link to home—was gone.

Heat climbed up the back of Shion's aching throat. He curled his legs up to his chest and buried his head between his knees.

Don't cry, he told himself. It won't do anything. It won't bring it back. Stay strong. Don't cry.

Shion chided himself with logic, reassured himself with hope, consoled himself with platitudes. But none of it mattered. His eyes burned with tears and his chest felt hollowed out. The Lab had taken everything: His possessions, his powers, his partner, his freedom. What did he have left but his tears?

"Hey. Fluffy. You crying?"

Shion swiped at his cheeks and peered over his knees. Rin's large dark eyes stared back at him. The child had flipped onto their stomach and propped themselves up onto their elbows.

Rin's mouth pulled into a thin line. "Guess you are."

"Leave him alone," sighed Hitomi. She was still curled on her side in bed, and with the mask covering the upper half of her face, it was impossible to tell whether she was fully awake or still half asleep. "You cried a lot when you first arrived."

"I'm not making fun of him," Rin barked. "Geez, spare me the lecture, Tomi. I'm sure we all cried."

"I'm sorry. It sounded like you were judging, that's all."

"Well, I wasn't. Just because I talk a certain way…" Rin trailed off, pouting pettishly. They huffed and returned their attention to Shion. "How's the throat? They took the bandages off, huh?"

Shion glanced around the room, but no one seemed surprised by the bandages' disappearing act. He nodded and shrugged a shoulder before deciding to try going a little further.

"Flu…Fluffy?" Shion's voice came out pitchy, sticking on the first syllable and squeaking on the last. But it was progress.

"Oh, hey! You can kinda talk now." Rin sat up and smiled. "Yeah. Fluffy. I don't know your name, so I had to go on looks alone. You've got that, you know—," they placed the back of their hand against their forehead and wiggled their extended fingers in the air like flyaways, "—big fluff on your head."

Shion's face heated. He slapped his hands over his head and patted down the front of his hair. Behind him, Hitomi rose from her bed.

"I think it looks cute," she said, smiling kindly.

Shion appreciated the sentiment, but he was still embarrassed that not only was his face a red, splotchy mess from crying, but his hair was also apparently in disarray. He didn't want to look as terrible as he felt.

"Shion," he rasped.

Rin tilted their head. "Shun?"

Shion shook his head. "Not…Fluffy. Shion." His throat felt like he was raking the flesh across a cheese grater every time he spoke, so he had to be choosy about what and how much he said.

"Shion," Hitomi repeated. "What a lovely name."

He smiled back at her. The young woman's gentle demeanor reminded him a bit of his mother and Safu; everything she said was to soothe or diffuse tension. She was a comforting presence, and Shion was grateful to have her there to steady his nerves. He felt terrible, though, that such a kind person was cursed with such an isolating power, and that her fate had relegated her to a dark, dank basement at the mercy of a deranged scientist.

Hitomi approached the glass and kneeled down to face Shion. Rin hopped down from their bed and sat cross-legged on the floor.

"Aki," they called, "new guy Shion is talking again. You wanna join?"

The old man laid supine on his cot, his eyes still closed. "I'll stay lying here, if that's alright," he said in his dusty baritone. "I can hear you."

"So, what's your power?" Rin asked. "Mind stuff, you said, but what kind?"

Shion wet his cracked lips. "Telekinesis."

"So you can move stuff with your mind? That's cool. Too bad they drug us up so we can't use our powers. I'd pay to see you throw Dr. Frankenstein across the room with a single thought. If I had money, that is."

Shion laughed, but it was short lived. Partly because he was surprised to find himself laughing in such a dire situation, but mostly because laughing hurt his throat. Rin seemed pleased, regardless.

"I'm funny, right?" they said. "When I get out of here, I'm gonna take the show on the road. Be the first pyrotechnic comedy act in all of Tokyo."

"What?" Hitomi lips curved in amusement. "I've never heard this before. When did you decide that?"

Rin shrugged. "Just now."

Hitomi snorted. "Well then, you're going to have to come up with a stage name to match your image."

"Oh, of course; I'm one step ahead of you. What do you think of Flameflam?"

"That's good," Aki chuckled from his cot. "It's got a nice ring to it."

Hitomi and Shion grinned. "You have a gift," Hitomi agreed.

"I do, don't I?" Rin said airily. "I'd love to share it with the world. Only problem is I'm wasting away in this godforsaken pit."

The amusement died instantly. Rin fisted their hands on their lap and glared at the floor. Shion could feel the frustration rolling off of their small body like heat, and for a moment he thought he could see actual sparks flickering in their eyes.

Hitomi lowered her head. "I'm sorry, Rin."

"Don't," Rin hissed. "Don't you say you're sorry. It isn't your fault; you didn't ask for this."

"Didn't I? I volunteered for the program—literally volunteered, not like Aki, who didn't actually have a choice. If it weren't for people like me, children like you never would have been born."

Hitomi's mirrored mask swung from Rin to Shion. He flinched at his wide-eyed reflection, red-eyed and throat mottled with yellow-green bruises.

Hitomi volunteered? Shion had never given much thought as to how the first superhumans came to be. From what Nezumi had told him, and from what he'd witnessed of the agents' methods, he assumed Horizon Labs had stolen the first candidates off the streets and forced the drugs on them. But Aki had admitted that he willingly joined the program, and now Hitomi, too. Had all of the first generation joined willingly? Had Shion's father?

"I don't mind being born, I mind being here," Rin growled. "And you didn't put me here, so quit the pity party. I hate it when you make my depression all about yours."

"Rin." Aki sighed and sat up.

Rin rolled their eyes and pitched backwards to lay splayed out on the floor. Hitomi folded her arms over her chest and turned her face aside. Shion could see the tight, sad set of her jaw beneath the mask line.

Their little bonding circle had been short lived.

Shion wrapped his fingers around his bare wrist and grit his teeth. Nezumi. Shion missed him so much his whole body ached. They had been torn apart just when their relationship had hit a bad note. They were on their way to mend it, they could have done it, they would have been OK, Shion was sure of it. But they never got the chance. They might never get the chance.

We were supposed to take the Lab down together. I was supposed to be the key. But they weren't fast enough. Shion wasn't strong enough—when he did use his powers to their full extent, he couldn't handle the aftereffects.

He had cost them everything.

"Shion?" Aki's voice had the soothing cadence of dry leaves blowing in an autumn wind. "Are you alright?"

His chin tickled, and when he reached up to rub at it, Shion's hands came away wet and warm with tears. Shion pressed his hands against his eye sockets. "Sorry," he whispered. "My…friend…was taken, too."

Nezumi was more than his friend, though Shion wasn't sure what to call him. They hadn't really talked about it…. It was too hard to explain their relationship—especially now—and it hurt too much to think about it too long.

"They were a VC?" Hitomi asked.

VC. The man yesterday had said that too. Shion nodded in response, guessing the term was interchangeable with superhuman. "Telepathic."

Rin sat up, eyes wide. "So you're telekinetic and they're telepathic? Man. You lucked out in the superfriend department."

"I need to—" Shion's voice gave out and he winced. He might have to drink the juice after all; his throat was so dry it burned to even swallow. Shion cleared his throat, and tried again. "I need to find him."

"Don't know how you're going to do that. No one's ever escaped from here."

"They did," Shion whispered. "Once."

Aki and Hitomi looked intrigued, but Rin was skeptical. Shion realized he had brought up a subject of interest, one that he would need to explain further. He hoped his throat was up to it.

"Take your time," Aki said, evidently guessing his trepidation.

"My friend. His parents escaped."

Aki and Hitomi exchanged looks, and Aki asked, "When was this?"

Shion thought back to everything Nezumi told him about his parents. "Sixteen years ago...?" He shrugged to indicate he wasn't exactly sure of the timeline.

The old man's face pinched in thought. "Sixteen years. They were first trial, then, like me?"

Shion nodded.

"Yes. I do remember…something." Aki's gaze fixed on the middle distance. "A breakout attempt, years ago. It was apparently very violent, but it wasn't in my cell block, so I don't know much. They used to keep us all upstairs. The cage's were the same—little tweaks here and there for those with more tricky powers—but much the same. But after the breakout, they said they were renovating the facility and moved us around to different blocks. Every VC had to go through a reevaluation, and those who were deemed too dangerous were pulled aside to be killed. I was supposed to be, but the doctor brought me here instead."

"Same here, about the too-dangerous-and-supposed-to-be-killed thing," Rin said. "Guess someone doesn't follow orders well. Not that I'm complaining, but…."

Shion shivered. Sixteen years in this dark basement. Forgotten, experimented on, with everyone believing you were dead, with no hope of escape. It was the stuff of nightmares.

"I'm glad that some of the prisoners escaped back then," Aki said, and smiled gently. "Even though the guards never told us anything, I had assumed some did, and Rin's appearance down here confirmed their success. I hope those who made it out have been able to live freely and happily."

Shion didn't know what to say to that. Nezumi apparently had a good childhood, so his parents must have been happy and free for a while. But they didn't get to stay that way.

Shion and Nezumi had snatched moments of happiness in their weeks together, but they never forgot that they were hunted, and so they could never fully lean into that happiness.

Shion glanced at Rin for their take, as they were the only other one in the room who had been born with powers.

"Don't look at me," Rin said, widening their fawn eyes innocently. "My parents ditched me at birth. Guess they figured they could live more 'freely and happily' that way."

"Don't say that," Hitomi said softly. "You don't know their reasons; maybe they were in trouble, and they gave you away to protect you."

Rin's expression shuttered and darkened. "I don't want to think that. I'd rather have them free and happy without me than possibly dead or imprisoned here."

"Me too," Shion murmured. "My dad—" His voice gave out again, and a series of dry coughs rattled his chest.

Fine. That's it.

Shion clicked his tongue and went for the white cylinder. Some kind of red, thick juice was inside and it smelled brightly of vegetables. He held his nose and downed it in one torturous go. Even with his nose plugged, he couldn't avoid the bitter, mushy taste of tomatoes and celery and a whole lot of other nasty ingredients that no one wanted to consume on an empty, drug-addled stomach.

Shion finished the container, gagged, and dropped it onto his cot as he walked back to the group. "My dad," he started again, "escaped here. But he left my mom and me when I was young. I don't know where he is, and I don't care, but I hope he's happy."

"That was a lot of talking!" Rin clapped their hands together. "That must have been some serious juice!"

Shion paused. That had beena lot of words at once, and his voice only sounded a little hoarse. Maybe there was more to the juice than just being disgusting; maybe whatever that "more" had been was why the juice had been so disgusting.

He felt…good. With his throat lubricated again and a few cries out of his system, he was finally thinking straight.

He was ready to fight.

The others had been trapped in the eternal gloom of this basement dungeon for too long; he could see how their souls had grown heavy and battered from the darkness, how their hope had become a moth-eaten shroud kept hidden in the backs of their minds. The only things they knew how to use now were the tools of one defeated: anger, pain, shame, deflection. They had forgotten how to feel anything else.

But Shion was new to this hell, and he'd be damned if he didn't try his hardest to break out and return to life above ground. He had to remind the others that there was always hope, even in the darkest of places.

Nezumi was somewhere in this building. Shion would find him and break him out, and then they would free all the VCs and, together, they would wreak havoc on Horizon Labs until it was nothing but rubble beneath their feet.

"We're going to break out," he said, looking at each of his cellmates in turn. "It's been done before; we can do it again."

Rin cocked an eyebrow. Hitomi and Aki seemed to wilt at this declaration, pitying the new kid who still dared to hope. They thought, perhaps, that once the doctor got at him, that after a few weeks of being beaten down and prodded and fed through a slot in the floor that he would realize it was useless to try.

That's OK. He couldn't blame them for being jaded. He just had to come up with a plan that would remind them that freedom was possible if only they remembered how to dream of it.

Shion sat back down and began to think about his resources. Four superhumans with their powers blocked, one mad scientist, and all the time in the world since, technically, he was supposed to be dead….

The stairs clanged distantly, and immediately everyone was on their feet.

"So soon?" Hitomi squeaked.

Shion's heart leapt into his throat. Lab Coat had said he'd see him again soon, but he hadn't realized he meant so soon. But Shion did his best to mask his fear. He wouldn't show the man the cowering, heartbroken person he was yesterday, even if he still felt that way on the inside. He would play dead, like Rin advised, but behind his calm mask, he would absorb every bit of data he could in the hopes that something useful would come of it.

The reverberation of the stairs grew louder. Shion clenched his fists. A spark of resistance flickered in his chest; it was warm and welcome, and he made a silent vow to never let it go out.

The door at the end of the room creeped open, the yellow light from the stairwell spreading through the dark like dawning sunlight, and a man poked his head through. He had a face like a forging animal: narrow, with a prominent nose and dark eyes that scoured the low light for threats. Once he confirmed that everyone was secure in their cages, he slipped inside and closed the door.

Shion glanced at Rin and Aki for a cue as to how to feel about the newcomer. Their shoulders had slumped and the fear had given way to disinterest.

"Cleaner," Aki rumbled so just Shion would hear.

The man's gaze flicked to Aki and then away, and his mustache twitched in affront. Apparently, he had good ears. He lumbered around the room, staring at the floor and muttering under his breath.

Shion wasn't sure what the man was looking for as the room had nothing but the cages and a small desk and chair at the far end. The floor was bare and porous, not of a type that would require regular maintenance. Why did a place like this have someone to come around to clean at all when the operations in it seemed to be secret?

When the man finished his inspection of the spotless floor, he stood in the middle of the room and peered sidewise at the cages. As though he were interested, but afraid of appearing too interested. Or maybe he was just afraid.

The man took a breath, scrubbed a hand over his close-cropped hair, and then walked toward the cages. His steps were sluggish and his eyes were glued to the floor the whole way. He stopped in front of Shion's cage, at the left hand corner.

"The bottle," he said, voice gruff.

Shion's brow furrowed, unsure of what the man wanted from him. But then he remembered the juice container he'd thrown onto his bed. "Oh, sure, hold on."

The man took a few steps back as soon as Shion got close to the glass with the container.

"We won't hurt you," Shion murmured as he placed the cylinder into the meal slot. "We can't."

The man's gaze locked onto his, and in the split second before he dropped it back to the floor, Shion saw not fear in his eyes, but shame. Shion blinked, frozen in place by the discovery. The man took the opportunity to press the lever to flip the bottle to his side, and snatched it up.

"Sorry," he said, and hurried from the room.

Shion straightened from his crouch and stared at the door as it slammed behind the man.

"Sorry," not "Thank you."

Interesting.