A/N: This is a sequel to Chapter 69/WPW #195

They say a man never really knows himself, until his freedom's been taken away. I wonder... how well do you know yourself?

I couldn't change it.

I knew everything -everything- that would happen, where, when, who, how... and I wasn't able to alter the result. I was ideally positioned to change the course of destiny...

And still I failed. Still I died.

Yet the life lost was not mine. Merely one I inhabited, merely one I... possessed, perhaps; utilized. One that was never truly mine.

None of it is mine. Yet still I try to control it.

I won't be destiny's puppet. I won't allow myself to believe that there is only one inevitable, undeniable future.

It's maddening to the point of obsessive. Maddening to someone so desperate to believe he can... if not fix, then change the world in some tangible way.

I failed once before. In my arrogance and my zeal, I thought simply knowing what lay ahead would change things...

But I possessed someone powerless. Well poised, perhaps. Someone I wanted to be... but also someone powerless, someone without the gift of a Semblance, or even more tellingly...

I know of but one loophole. One other possible way.

I've seen the future. And at the time one life is lost, another is in limbo.

I have to know. I have to know if it's possible to change things, with someone even better poised to alter the course of the future.

Death freed me from this. I could've simply gone back. I could've let it end. I was free.

But even freedom has its price.

Using some... willpower, using my own obsession as fuel... using whatever remnant of me exists in the formless, featureless void...

She's a machine, broken down to inert components. But those components are the only machines to have ever generated Aura.

So long as my soul exists... so long as my obsession binds me to this remnant, I will not give up. I will do anything to know for sure.

Another man infused her machinery with his Aura, breathing life into her.

I wonder what will happen when I try the same. But I know that either way, she will be returned to her home and rebuilt... live when she should've died.

I have to know.

You'll carry your prison with you.

I have to know if I can change this.

That armor will be your new cell.

I found no ghost in the shell. I saw no reflection in the surface of the steel. I was afraid of no devil - because I know I'm the one who raised this Hell.

I try to wiggle my toe. I try to clench my fist. I try to open my eyes. Nothing.

The darkness. The immobility. Maybe that's a fitting punishment for my hubris.

Maybe my obsession led me to an ignoble end...

Then I draw my first breath.

I feel cold. There is no heat in my exhale. No... organic component to cause a chemical reaction. Oxygen is not converted into carbon dioxide. It's just drawn in and out, spinning fans and motors rather than filling lungs.

I clench my hand into a fist. I hear the clacking of metal -very faintly, but loud enough for me to notice- and know that I have become something else.

I open my eyes at last. I see not only the vivid colors of the world, but projections... information overlaid onto the image.

I see the tiny spectacles and scruffy face of a rotund man over me, whispering: "Penny... Penny..."

A second chance. If at first you don't succeed...

Roman Torchwick died, just as he was condemned to. Penny Polendina was meant to meet the same fate... after a fashion.

I am many things I have never been... machine... woman. I'm not sure which thought is more terrifying. I cannot say for certain what I will be when things progress for her, and magic is added to this cocktail of contradictory thoughts and inputs.

But I know my goal. I can focus on it.

I'll play along a while. I'll follow the script until such time as Penny Polendina befriended Fria and attained the power of a Maiden...

Then gained the ability to open the vault, and retrieve a staff capable of creating anything in this world...

I had strings, but now I'm free. There are no strings on me...

"Father?" I inquire.

The voice is high-pitched. Another thing I'll have to get used to.

"Penny!" he exclaims, overjoyed.

I try to reach up with my arm, to embrace my... to embrace her father. To show him the love and enthusiasm he expects.

Obsession is easier to maintain when your determination is rewarded.

If at first you don't succeed... try, try again.