Chapter 4

We had walked to the ranch, it was late evening, and I was dead tired. But no, I was assigned to clean out the cell I was sharing with three other women. Yay, more cleaning. The Desians watched us, probably looking down our shirts, though I decided to ignore this too, until they decided the cell was sufficiently spotless for the night. Of course, this was about half an hour after we had got rid of the last actual spots.

I needed to pee desperately. There was a dark hole in the corner of the cell that I really hoped wasn't the toilet. But I was far to embarrassed to even ask, so instead I did the "I-need-to-go-potty" dance until one of the women pointed me resignedly towards the hole. Dammit.

The other women politely looked away, but it was humiliating nonetheless. I had to squat awkwardly, and there was no toilet paper. I would probably catch some horrible disease within a few days.

I fell asleep sitting curled up in a corner, and woke up the same, far too early. A Desian was yelling through the door that I needed to come with him. The other women didn't look at me as they were lead off by another Desian to who-knows-where with the rest of the prisoners. Us four newbies went off to another room filled with frighteningly technical-looking equipment.

We were seated in a row as we waited. None of us spoke or looked at each other, lost in our own sullen thoughts. I guess this is why no one ever organized prison breaks. They kept us demoralized pretty effectively.

One by one I saw them led away, not to come back. Eventually I was alone in the room. I kicked my feet against my chair. They hadn't even left anyone to watch over me. I could escape, grab a weapon and a disguise, sneak my way out of here. But my butt remained firmly planted on my chair, and my feet seemed content to kick uselessly.

By the time a Desian came back, I hadn't even tried to leave. No wonder they hadn't bothered to leave a guard. He grabbed my arm farm more roughly than was necessary and led me into yet another room. None of the others were there. He instructed me to put my hand in an ominous-looking machine, and for some reason I obeyed. The opening was surrounding by some sort of latex substance that conformed to and tightened around my hand. The machine ground out some noises, and suddenly I felt the strangest sensation, as if an ice cube was dropping through my hand and got stuck there. My arm was ejected from the machine, and I looked with awe at the Exsphere now on my hand. Icy tendrils were creeping out from it, up and down my bloodstream, sapping me of all my warmth. I felt weak.

So entranced was I with my new Exsphere that I hardly noticed the fighting that broke out behind me. But space cadet that I am, even I can't ignore a man's dying scream.

I turned around. A few red-clad soldiers were holding off others who were trying to get in the door, while others made toward the crates stacked in the far end of the room. But what really caught my attention was the tall half-elf ordering the others around.

Botta.

And he had a really sexy voice, never mind the random unplaceable accent. Why did he have to die?

The Renegades barred the door shut and gathered around him. I was somewhat relieved to find that the dead Desian's body had already disintegrated, a process that I was tempted to call returning to the Lifestream. Sylvarant must really be strapped for mana, then.

Lost in thought, I nearly missed the Renegades leaving the room through another door. They hadn't even noticed me, hunkered against the machinery as I was. No, no, don't leave me... "Wait!"

The last one spun around, sword raised, but lowered it slightly when he saw me. I must have looked pathetic. For some absurd reason I started worrying about how my hair looked. "Help me," I elaborated, as if he couldn't understand. My voice was somewhat harsh, not having talked for almost a day now.

"Sir!" he called through the door. Botta reappeared, and I was so relieved I didn't even bother to revel in his presence. "What about this one, sir?"

Botta gave me a piercing glance and said after a pause, "Might as well, we're almost out."

Thank God. Thank Martel. Thank whatever deity was listening, I was saved. The Renegade extended a hand towards me, and I took a step forward, only to have my ankle go out.

In my head, I ran through every curse I knew. This being a very short list, this didn't take long and I was left to whimper in pain. Even as the Renegade slung me over his back to ride piggyback, it occurred to me that it didn't actually hurt -- my ankle just wouldn't work anymore. It felt cold. I glared at my Exsphere, as if that would help anything.

I was carried through the rest of the base in a haze, vaguely wondering if this happened to everybody who got an Exsphere implanted. A few more Desians and one Renegade were killed, and I tried not to look, but my drooping eyes prevented me from seeing much anyway. As I drifted off, the only sensation I could feel was a tingling in my hand as the Exsphere drew power to itself.

---

"...accelerated deterioration," was the first thing I heard upon waking. My sleep-addled brain didn't even comprehend these words for a minute or so, upon which I realized that I was being talked about. For the second time in what was probably two days, I slowed my breathing and pretended to be asleep.

I was lying on my back on a comfortable surface this time, and the cold that had been racing through my veins was gone. There were at least two people in the room, one of whom was clearly Yuan. I felt a little thrilled that he had deigned to look in on me personally.

Of course, he just had to ruin the moment by saying, in exactly the same tone as Kratos had, "I know you're awake." Stupid angels. Could he hear my accelerated heartbeat or something?

I reluctantly opened one eye. Indeed, a blurry Yuan and an unidentifiable Renegade were standing over me. I reached a hand up to my eyes, and my glasses were gone. Lovely.

"How are you feeling?" the Renegade asked me.

"Well, aside from the fact that I'm half blind now, I'm fine," I replied, sitting up. This Renegade seemed like a doctor, and I felt comfortable around him.

The Renegade I had internally named Doctor Man nodded. "Your glasses fell off during your fortuitous rescue," he informed me. "You will have to do without until we can make you another pair."

I felt my eyes widen. They were nice. Granted, they were dedicated to defeating Cruxis, but they never quite struck me as nice.

My eyes were inexorably drawn towards Yuan. Or was it because who I was? A stranger in a strange land, to be cliched yet again?

Yuan smirked at my look, and I suddenly had the irrational fear that he would somehow find out that I had a huge girly crush on him. But no, angels could do many things, but they couldn't read minds. I hoped.

Of course, if I continued staring like I was, he would probably figure it out anyway. After 4000 years, he had to know what he does to the ladies.

"If you would leave us for a moment," he said to Doctor Man, and for a moment I was freaking out before I told myself to stop being so retarded. As soon as the door closed, he looked me straight in the eye. He has green eyes, I noted absently. Once again my wish for a notepad made itself known. "I have it on good authority that you, Robyn, are from another world."

"How --" Kratos, right. He was trying to intimidate me with his knowledge. Well, I would play along. "How did you know?..."

There was that smirk again. "Good authority, as I said. Have you heard of Tethe'alla?"

"No."

"Nor Sylvarant?"

"No." Great, this was going to be just like Kratos's interrogation.

"Hmm." Yuan sat down in a chair I hadn't noticed before and leaned back. "How did you end up here?"

"Um, I was sitting drinking coffee and suddenly I woke up on the floor someplace else," I told him, deciding to condense it.

"You woke up?" I nodded. "Has it occurred to you that your world might be merely a dream?"

I gaped. No, I had not. No, that was impossible. "No, that's impossible."

He looked me up and down. "Aside from your odd clothes, what proof have you that you're from another world?"

I opened my mouth and closed it again. My bookbag and textbooks were back in the House of Salvation, and my purse and cellphone were most likely still on the floor of Jazzman's Cafe. "I...I know all this stuff," I said lamely. Yuan raised an eyebrow, and I elaborated, "About my world. Details I couldn't have possibly gotten out of a dream. And I know nothing about this world except what I've learned in the past few days," I added, lying between my teeth.

Yuan was clearly not convinced. "You will remain here until we can determine whether you have been subjected to severe head trauma, resulting in delusions," he said, changing the subject neatly. "If you are indeed delusional as I expect, we will send you to the nearest mental institution. This is not a hospital." This last was said with a bit of a glare, as if I was using up his precious resources that he was providing for me out of the kindness of his heart. I supposed I was.

Yuan stood up and made his way to the door, cape flaring out behind him. "Stay here," he said as he opened the door, as an afterthought. "The doctor will be back shortly."

I had the weirdest sense of being in a doctor's office. I looked down at my hands. The Exsphere, which I had completely forgotten about, now had the addition of a strange metal band carved with runes encircling it.

A Keycrest.

"Thank you," I said to the empty room.

A/N: Whoo, four chapters in one go.

...Sweet Martel, why am I posting this? This is a horrible story.