Collaboration with Glorifiedscapegoat.

Nezumi reclined against the bars of his cage and watched the lab techs bustle about outside, confirming the faces and routines that he had already committed to memory. They worked in shifts, and although he only had a few days of watching, he was certain that he had the comings and goings down pat. The employees' schedules appeared to be identical each day. In fact, pretty much everything in Section F was routine. The employees clocked in a little after nine; at ten he was brought a meal of rice, beans, mixed veggies, and apple slices (which, after days of starvation under Rashi's care, felt like a feast); at two a lab tech or two would escort him to a conference room on the floor below and let him stretch his legs for a half hour before returning him to his cage to stew; then dinner of a small salad and a heel of bread at five, and lights out at eight. He was told he'd have shower privileges granted by next week.

They never blindfold him on the walk across the floor and down the stairs to the conference room, which seemed very, very stupid on their part. Obviously, the lab monkeys were not given the same training as the officers.

The techs didn't like taking him out, but either they had a sliver of humanity left that compelled them to not leave his muscles to atrophy in monotonous limbo, or they had been ordered to keep to the schedule, and so they obeyed their overlord like mindless sheep. Either way, Nezumi had been given the perfect opportunity for manipulation and imminent escape. If there was a god, it looked like they had decided it was high time they cut Nezumi a break.

The day after Nezumi had been unceremoniously dumped in Section F, he had the opportunity to isolate and interrogate Annie again. Of course, she just thought it was a friendly chat, and Nezumi had to keep his tone and topics light to keep her suspicions unaroused. But as innocuous as the conversation seemed, he was able to glean valuable information.

The girl had confirmed in as many words that the boss of Section F was, in fact, the mad doctor Nezumi had the displeasure of meeting semi-regularly. Though, she also mentioned the Lab's CEO in the same breath. Apparently, the command of Horizon Laboratories was a two-headed snake. Technically, the CEO was in charge of the operations, but he seemed more of the figurehead, rather than the mastermind. Annie placed much more emphasis on the doctor, and it was apparent Section F mainly took orders from him, and only approached the CEO when their usual boss was indisposed.

And the doctor had been indisposed now for days.

Nezumi got an impression of this from Annie's nail picking and uncertain smiles during Nezumi's probing into her boss's schedule, but the more conclusive evidence came from his escorts to and from exercise. The people changed every day, but they all grumbled constantly about the scramblers, whined about the doctor's continued absence and unresponsiveness, and generally acted like Nezumi wasn't a human being with working ears and a motive to misbehave.

Which was fine. Nezumi's favorite people were ignorants and idiots; his suggestions sunk into their brains like a knife through butter.

With what Annie had insinuated and the other techs broadcasted, Nezumi was pretty certain that he had Lab Coat to thank for his current setup. It made sense now that the doctor had been distracted while performing his discharge check up. Whatever the man had become obsessed with must have already consumed him at that point. Nezumi was marked for transfer to Section F, where Lab Coat's main office was located, so perhaps the man had had plans for him at the initial request, but he had since lost interest. Perhaps he never gave the instructions for Nezumi's placement and the techs improvised. Or perhaps the man had dumped the transfer's execution on a colleague or the CEO and that person was too far removed from Project Valiant to make appropriate arrangements for a superhuman. Or maybe the doctor had just stopped caring about Nezumi, believed him broken and useless and no longer a threat, and just stuffed him in a corner where he couldn't cause trouble and would soon be forgotten.

Whatever the case, a grave error had been made, and Nezumi wasn't going to wait for it to be discovered. He was tired of his grief, he was sick of submission. Now that Nezumi had had a few days of food in his stomach, clean skin and clothes, and unobscured walks through Section F, he felt energized. He was ready to stop playing victim and start his strike. And this time, nothing would hold him back. He had nothing left to lose but his life, and that was forfeit as long as he remained a prisoner and tool of Horizon Laboratories.

Annie was so friendly and helpful, and Nezumi had looked forward to many more conversations with her, the last of which he would prettily suggest that she take her scrambler out. However, her ex-boyfriend and resident party-pooper, Shou, had caught Annie exiting the holding area one morning, and stopped her in the hall to chew her out. Annie didn't look receptive, but her ex must have had power over the schedule, because he never saw Annie in the morning rounds again. He did, however, see Shou stomping around and smirking through the glass like an imperious weasel.

It was just as well. Nezumi would rather hijack the mind of someone who deserved to be humiliated. He hoped that Shou would be on escort duty when he made his move, but it didn't have to be him; every technician on this floor was guilty of wrongdoing and he would rejoice in attacking any of them.

Nezumi squinted at the clock across the lab. The minutes ticked by in a red digital haze until finally the face read 2:00. Showtime.

Shou was not one of the employees who entered a minute later, but Nezumi did recognize the two men as ones who had been on escort duty before. He knew neither of their names because they'd never deigned to introduce themselves, nor did they bother referring to Nezumi by name or VC number. Conversations between Nezumi and the techs usually consisted of, "Hey, you. Exercise time," and "Alright, back upstairs," with the two men complaining a whole lot to each other in between.

Since both men were featureless in both looks and personality, Nezumi had dubbed them Thing 1 and Thing 2.

"Two o'clock," sighed Thing 1, waving a hand at Nezumi to get his attention, as though Nezumi hadn't had his eyes glued to them since they walked through the door. Thing 2 unlocked the cage and Nezumi crawled out.

Crawling in and out of the cage was humiliating—not to mention physically uncomfortable with a broken rib—but today Nezumi performed the indignity with a light smile on his face. He would not be doing it again, not ever.

He glanced up at the men's belts while he was still eye level with them. Each was equipped with a black and yellow gun-shaped TASER that hung loosely in their holsters, just begging to be snatched. The contraptions looked small and childish compared to the sleek batons the officers carried in Section M, but Nezumi's side still burned at the memory of electricity coursing through his muscles and bones. He tightened his jaw, and quelled the anxiety building at the back of his head by imagining the TASERs in his hands and the Lab employees writhing at his feet.

Thing 1 and 2 flanked him as they exited the holding area and wandered across the floor. The tile was cool and smooth beneath the soles of Nezumi's bare feet, and the temperature of the room was not much warmer. Goosebumps pricked along Nezumi's arms and he wrapped them around himself to strengthen the small and diminished image he had carefully cultivated. Definitely not a threat, said his body language. Definitely not fantasizing about you all dying painful deaths. No one paid him any mind.

Nezumi noted who was working at the moment and where they were stationed. He spotted a few familiar faces: Annie and other persons who had brought his meals; people he paid special attention to since they worked on useful-looking solutions and technologies; and Shou, who was sitting at his desk and playing what Nezumi was certain was Tetris on his computer.

Nezumi's mind buzzed, his power idly slithering through the air and probing the nearby minds for weaknesses. At least three people on this floor were not wearing their scramblers. Nezumi smiled, but had to turn his mouth into his shoulder and mask it as a cough as Shou swiveled in his seat to glare at the procession. Shou, of course, was wearing his scrambler like a good boy. Nezumi gave him a thumbs-up as he passed.

Thing 1 and 2 led Nezumi down the staircase to the bland conference room, with its four person table and chalky walls whose monotony was interrupted only by a flatscreen TV for teleconferencing. Thing 2 unlocked the door with his ID and gestured Nezumi inside. Nezumi thanked the men generously and began his daily stretching routine as the men conversed outside the closed door. They were talking about women, of all things. Apparently neither of them could get a date, and Thing 1 was loudly insulted that he had never been invited to the team's happy hour. Thing 2 warbled that he didn't even know there were team happy hours.

Poor schmucks, Nezumi thought drily, and rolled his eyes. He swung his leg up onto the conference table and leaned forward to stretch his hamstring. His escorts paid him no mind, and were still locked in their self-pitying rant when the half hour was up and they unlocked the door.

Nezumi glanced out the room's window to see if anyone else was around. He had never noticed foot traffic in the area on his previous trips, but it always paid to be cautious. Two he could handle, but more might get complicated.

Coast is clear, Nezumi noted and smiled.

He decked Thing 1 with a vicious cross, and while Thing 2 stood there gawking at his writhing colleague, Nezumi yanked the TASER out of his belt and fired the probes into Thing 2's neck. The man gurgled and went down, and Nezumi aimed a kick at Thing 1's head to make sure he couldn't recover and sound the alarm. His bare foot throbbed gently where the sole connected with the man's jaw, but Nezumi had kept his toes flexed back to avoid breaking any bones.

Nezumi let out a sigh when it was over. The feeling of standing in the quiet conference room, two Lab lackeys unconscious at his feet and a door wide open before him, was gorgeous. He closed his eyes and let the moment wash over him. For the first time in weeks, Nezumi felt peaceful. He felt sure, powerful, right.

Deadly.

He combed a hand through his loose hair and stooped to divest his victims of their scramblers, which he crushed under the leg of a chair.

Nezumi took Thing 1's TASER from his belt and stuffed it into his own pocket along with the man's ID card. He briefly lamented that the techs hadn't been outfitted with longer range weapons, but he supposed he was being too greedy. His situation was greatly improved as it was. He glanced between the unconscious men and Reached into their minds.

Thing 1 and 2 jolted awake, panic wet and electric in their eyes.

"Shh," Nezumi soothed, the fingers of his Influence curling in their synapses and smoothing out the waves of anxiety. "It's alright. We're friends, remember? There's no need to be alarmed."

Pleasure rolled down Nezumi's spine as he felt the men's minds buckle under his ministrations. God, it felt good to use his power again. He hadn't realized how heavily it wore on his mind and body to keep it suppressed. Now that he had released the tension, his body felt lighter, his muscles more limber, and his mind worked faster.

"It's time," he said, more to himself than the men now under his control. "Let's go upstairs and see your coworkers, shall we? We're gonna start our own little happy hour."

Thing 1 and 2 grinned as Nezumi pressed the suggestion into their brains. Fear turned to excitement, resistance melted into eagerness.

"Happy hour?" squealed Thing 2.

"Yes, but you have to be quiet. It's a surprise," Nezumi said. The men giggled as they climbed to their feet, but they tried to muffle the sound behind their hands. Nezumi gestured to them to take the lead. "I can't go first and take the credit; it's your idea, after all."

"Our idea," Thing 1 gasped, clapping his hands together. "What a good idea! Why didn't we think of it before?"

"They're going to love this," Thing 2 whisper-yelled. "We're going to be so popular!"

"Absolutely," Nezumi agreed, listening for threats as they entered the hallway. "I bet the women will just fall at your feet. Do you have access to a weapons locker of some sort?"

"Weapons?"

"Yeah. Things like buzz batons or tranq guns?"

Nezumi had reasonable confidence that he could incapacitate the lab technicians even without his powers, but there were a lot of them, and one might get the idea to grab a weapon and fight back. It would be much easier if he could take down the few he suspected would be trouble from a distance, before anyone knew what was happening.

"Uh…" Thing 1 frowned. "That's not our department."

"Oh, but there are a few weapons made upstairs," Thing 2 volunteered. "No guns—those are for officers—but we have a new model of buzz baton in the works."

"Does the new baton work currently, though?"

"I think?" The men exchanged an uncertain look and shrugged. "It's not our department."

Nezumi clicked his tongue. "Lovely. Real helpful, guys."

But then he realized that he might not have to walk into an unknown when he reached the upstairs. He had noticed a few people on the floor who were remiss in wearing their scramblers; they could be his first line of attack, clearing the way for him. Nezumi told the men to wait quietly and closed his eyes to focus.

He Reached toward the upper level, seeking unprotected minds. He found one, and sunk his Influence deep inside. He found two more defenseless persons and took hold of them. Once the Hands of his power had hooked into them, he began pulling every negative emotion in their heads up to the surface, like a frenzied child plucking tissue upon tissue from its box. Pain and fear and fury boiled through the connection, and Nezumi shuddered but held on. Once the psychological unrest hit its peak, he issued a single command: :Find a weapon and take down every person wearing a white lab coat.:

The persons under his thrall wouldn't grievously injure anyone—Nezumi couldn't make anyone commit murder unless they already wanted to do it—but he almost wished he could compel them to make it hurt.

Shouts drifted down the staircase. A smirk flitted over Nezumi's lips. Begin Act I, Scene II.

"When we get upstairs," Nezumi told the men, injecting enthusiasm into his voice, "I want you to spread out. And if you see earbuds in any of your coworkers' ears, take them out. It's a game. Whoever collects the most wins."

Thing 1 and 2 looked ecstatic as they climbed the stairs to the laboratory level of Section F. Probably they were happy to finally be included in fun activities.

Nezumi didn't know what to expect when they reached the lab. Madness? Confusion? But when they opened the door at the top of the stairwell and stepped out, the floor was almost completely quiet. The only sound was an intermittent thumping from somewhere to their right.

Nezumi slipped between two rows of desks and barely stepped aside in time to avoid planting his foot in a shattered beaker. Electric blue fluid puddled on the tile beneath the shards, flecks of the explosion speckling the white desk drawers. Annie lay on the floor beside the mess, the beaker fluid soaking her lab coat sleeve dark blue. Nezumi crouched and pulled her scrambler out, then moved to find someone less sullied and who was closer to his size.

Thing 1 and 2 split up and got to work plucking scramblers out of their fallen colleagues' ears. Nezumi was pleasantly surprised at how much havoc his three mind-controlled lab techs were able to wreak in just a few minutes. But then, the other technicians probably never saw it coming, and even if they had realized what was happening, they weren't confident enough to properly defend themself against a wrathful friend.

Nezumi found an unconscious man at the end of the row. The nasty contact burn on the side of his neck said that he was approached from behind and stuck with a buzz baton. Nezumi nodded in approval as he rolled the man over and began to work his arms out of the lab coat he wore. After Nezumi shrugged himself into the coat, he checked the man's shoe size. He wore hideous green sneakers, but they were the correct size, so Nezumi ignored his vanity and pulled them on. He wrinkled his nose at the close, almost wet sensation of someone else's residual body heat pressing on his bare feet, but he forced himself to ignore it. He had work to finish.

Nezumi followed the sounds of the thumping. All three of his lab lackeys were huddled around the door to the holding cells and slapping at it with their weapons: two buzz batons and one sturdy-looking clipboard. A lone lab tech had barricaded themself in the room and was pressed up against the cages like a cornered animal.

"Oh, perfect." Nezumi chuckled darkly as he approached the glass. The gods were definitely on his side today, because who else should be the last man standing but his very favorite lab asshole, Shou. "Why don't you open the door, sweetheart?" Nezumi purred. "I only want to talk."

Shou's Adam's apple bobbed. His eyes were wide enough to drink from, and Nezumi thirsted for every drop of his terror.

"You won't get away with this," Shou wheezed. He gestured to his ear. "You can't control me, and I will never open this door." He jumped as the lab tech with the clipboard gave the door handle a vicious smack.

"If you won't come to me, I guess I'll come to you." Nezumi turned to the nearest lab tech and sent a light Push through her mind to compel her to answer his questions. "Can your ID card unlock this door?"

"Yes. All of ours can." Her face was blank, as were the faces of the other technicians', despite the violence they were doing to the holding cell door.

Nezumi pursed his lips. His order to take down everyone on the floor should have given the techs the freedom to pursue Shou. But then, he knew their minds inside and out, and now that he searched, Nezumi realized that although the techs had followed his orders, they had reserved enough consciousness to only let the order apply to the persons they found on the floor. Once Shou escaped behind the door, the order didn't pertain to him. They didn't want to hurt their coworkers, but Nezumi's control over them made them powerless to resist, so they found a loophole.

It would have been sweet if Nezumi gave a damn about Horizon Labs.

He ordered the techs aside and opened the door with the keycard he'd stolen. "Rip that fucking thing out of his ear and hold him," Nezumi told the techs. "I have some questions I'd like Mr. Murata's honest answers to."

To Shou's credit, he didn't immediately fold under Nezumi's influence. He fought against his coworkers' hold and his mind rioted against Nezumi's effort to wrangle him into submission. But Nezumi didn't care anymore about being subtle or gentle with his power. He would break Shou's mind into irreparable pieces if he had to, but he would bring him to heel.

With a final teeth-grinding grunt, Shou's mind caved. He slumped in his captors' grips, and at last, Nezumi's Influence held him like a puppeteer's wires.

"Stand up," Nezumi growled. Shou straightened. The other lab techs released him, recognizing Shou as one of them now. A faint throb began behind Nezumi's left eye—the physical strain of holding and actively controlling six people—but he pushed the pain to the back of his awareness.

"I know you don't have guns up here, but you have other weapons, correct? More than just buzz batons?"

Shou nodded. His eyes were bloodshot, the veins standing out in his temple and neck from straining against Nezumi's hold, but his expression was as vacant as a mannequin's.

A chill rippled down Nezumi's spine at the vacuous audience he had assembled—but it wasn't from fear or remorse. Hatred slithered through his veins like slow-acting poisoning, turning the taste in his mouth to bitter iron. Whether it was under Lab orders or his, these men and women were nothing but greedy lemmings, working blindly without a thought to the ramifications.

The parents gunned down in defense of their lives; the children orphaned and torn from the only family they knew; the constant pressure of shouldering the guilt of surviving; the agony of merely existing as not quite human, not quite monster, but every bit afraid of yourself—these blank-faced drones knew none of it, and they didn't want to. They didn't care about the people they killed or the suffering they'd inflicted. They didn't even think of their victims as human.

They deserve to burn. Nezumi had never believed this as strongly as he did now.

"What kinds of weapons?"

"We manufacture the technology to keep the VCs under control."

Nezumi grit his teeth. "And that is?"

"Buzz batons, tranquilizers, dampening serums, amplifier serums, truth serums, paralyzing agents, tracker chips…" Shou paused, then said, "That's all."

Nezumi reviewed the list in his head. "What's amplifier serum?"

Shou's jaw stayed locked tight. The vein in his temple had been fading, but it twitched again now.

Nezumi raised an eyebrow. "What is amplifier serum?" he repeated gently, but with each word the tendrils of his Influence bit deeper into Shou's willpower.

Sweat beaded on the man's brow, but his face and voice remained emotionless as he said, "It's our newest project. We've only just perfected the chemical make-up. It's still in the trial stage, though, so we haven't told anyone outside this floor yet. We need to test it on more VCs before we can move forward."

"Fascinating, but you still haven't told me what it is. Though I am beginning to get an idea."

"It heightens a VC's powers," Shou squeaked. His expression flickered. Nezumi watched to see if the man would manage to break through his control—even hoped he would, so he could have a reason to make the man bleed instead—but the blip of resistance died as suddenly as it manifested.

"That sounds like fun," Nezumi mused. He glanced behind him. Thing 1 and 2 had returned, their hands full of scramblers and dopey grins pasted onto their faces. Nezumi waved them into the holding cell and took Shou by the arm.

He addressed the rest of the group, "Everyone, stay here. Don't do anything but stand here quietly until I get back."

Nezumi pushed Shou out onto the floor and closed the holding cell door behind him. "Now," he said, digging his fingers into the tender flesh above Shou's elbow, "show me where you keep the amplifier serum."