Life can be ironic, ya' know?

The day you have planned for hanging at the pool, a thunderstorm breaks out. The night you plan on a bonfire is the night it snows in the middle of summer…well, that doesn't happen as often, but you get the idea.

My life has been touched by cruel irony. One of the careers I seriously thought of pursuing was a geneticist. Today I am the result of a genetic experiment. Just a second ago, I was all set to get the heck out of Dodge (with my file), and wouldn't you know it, here I am trying to rescue Ade.

It really was terrible. I think that's the best possible way to describe it in one sentence. Let that be a life lesson dear reader: Never trust hacking skills you learned from a crazy homeless guy with a laptop.

Because apparently, I didn't notice a back door trigger that alerted someone to what I was doing. A short investigation later by some IT guy and wha-la, I was busted. Without knowing it of course, not until it was too late to do anything about it.

I had to get Ade out; that was my only priority. I didn't care what happened to me after that. I ran right into the nearest fuzzy wolf-guy after dropping the gun-wielding white-coat chick and fought like a crazy momma-bear.

I was doing fairly well, considering that these guys were so much bigger, stronger, and more experienced than me. I guess I surprised them with my crazy charge; they expected me to run, not fight.

But then their surprise wore off, and I got the wind knocked out of me. I shouted again for Ade to get out, seeing him on the floor but not held down. He made to obey me, but then he turned the other way.

I would have been shouting at him for not listening, but three particularly big erasers got a hold of me. The bulking mutants were impeded in their actions by the limited space and sheer volume of their numbers.

I took full advantage of that, throwing my dead weight first one way and then the other, getting them to back up, if only slightly, as my actions pushed them even closer to their pressing brothers.

Frustrated at the lack of immediate progress, I bit the nearest hand/paw/whatever. The eraser howled and released me to cradle his paw.

I acted instantly, elbowing another in the face and crushing the third one's foot with mine. I was free then, for a second, as four more pairs of arms reached for me greedily, stepping over their wounded friends.

I made a mad dash for the windows, almost punching through the glass to get out. I looked back, and I felt like ten erasers had just punched me in the gut as hard as they could. I saw two of them dragging Ade back by his arms, unconscious.

I leaned forward, prepared to go back in for him, when a winged eraser grabbed my shoulders from behind and pulled me outside with him.

Let's just say the sap didn't even know what hit him as he landed one roof over, barely conscious. His buddies wanted a piece of me too, but I was out of patience.

I roared, the raw feelings of desperation and anger boiling over, and I beat them senseless too.

It was weird; I had never felt like that before. If I had been a color, it would be red, pure crazy red. I couldn't even think. I just dodged, ducked, weaved, and struck out as hard as I could. When one of them landed a blow, I didn't even feel it.

I feared myself, in whatever cubbyhole the real me had hidden.

For a moment, I finally felt a little like what those white coats had been calling me: a weapon.

And that was the thought I needed to stop.

But instead of doing the hero thing – flying back in there with trumpets and yellow flashes of glory, taking back Ade and fleeing – I ran. It was all I could do at the time.

I couldn't take them all on in a straight fight, and I wouldn't be a weapon. So I ran, and the whole time, I hated myself.

Once I made it a good distance, I covered my scent by doing the only thing I could think of: dumpster swimming. I crawled under an overhang on the nearest roof and sat there for minutes, carefully thinking of nothing at all.

Then I sat up, shedding my trench coat and putting on a "clean" hoodie from my pack. After which I slapped myself.

I mean like a full-out-leave-a-red-hand-print-behind slap to my face.

I had to snap out of it. I had to get my game face on for the rescue mission. I would not surrender or give in! I would not let them win!

Springing to my feet, and snapping out my wings, I took off for the Institute. I would save Ade, and we would both get out of New York, together.

All I had to do was sneak in, get him, and get out. This time, I was going full camouflage mode.

Before I came in sight of the building, I made the light around my body absorb all the white light, rendering me invisible to the naked eye. Well, mostly invisible. While I was moving, someone could see my outline. I would just have to be slow about it.

Swooping for a lower level, I slide in a partially open window, forcing it down to fit all of me. I bit back a loud curse and cry of pain because yes, having your feathers plucked before they are ready to come out hurts ten times worse than yanking out a few hairs.

Sucking it up, I crouched in what looked like an abandoned faculty lounge, a layer of dust covering most surfaces. I sneezed, against my will, and immediately looked for the eraser to come charging in. When nothing happened, I relaxed a fraction and made for the door.

I was only half ashamed when the theme song from Mission Impossible started playing in my head, and believe me, it was an effort not to hum it out loud.

Pausing just long enough to press my ear to the door and check for footsteps, I pushed the door open quietly, slipping out and closing it soundlessly. My heartbeat picked up when I realized something important: I didn't know where Ade was.

'Way to go,' I congratulated myself, picking a direction at random.

I took off running on cats' feet, silent and speedy. (Which it would have been cool of those stupid whitecoats to give me a little cat DNA [my favorite animal], but no, they feel better using only one set of new DNA at a time. Lame-o's.)

I rounded a corner and almost fell on my backside trying to back-pedal. I pressed myself tightly to the wall, not even daring to breathe as two employees continued towards me.

"Did you see that, Tom?"

"See what Stew," the taller of the two asked in a tired voice.

"I don't know exactly," 'Stew' stumbled for words, "It was a-a-a ripple of some kind. It was right up there."

'Tom' sighed, rolling his eyes, "You haven't slept in three days Stew; you're probably just imagining it."

"Yeah-yeah, I guess," he answered, not looking convinced. Shaking it off, he changed the subject, "I wish the boss would quit riding us to get this done ahead of schedule."

'Tom' shrugged his shoulders, looking tired too, "I tried to tell her that we would be more productive if she let us sleep, but that witch threatened to put me off the team if I ever – and I quote – "If you defy me again you worthless little maggot. You don't even deserve to lick my shoes. I'm changing the world, with or without you. Now get back to work before I change my mind about forgiving you." I wanted to say some chose words to that – that, Ice Queen!"

His companion nodded, stifling a yawn, their conversation fading as they got further away.

Letting out my breath, I couldn't help but contemplate their words. What were these people up to?

I continued going the way they had come from, hoping that whatever project they were working on would be close to Ade.

Ade had better not be the project they were working on…

I rounded three more corners before coming to a dead end. Where was their lab?

I cautiously checked all the rooms but didn't see a lab. I went to the last door, not expecting to find anything, and discovered a stairway.

I paused, not remembering having seen this stairway before. Thinking back on what I knew of the building, I figured that these had to be on the other side of the building that the stairs I had found the first trip here.

Then I had to guess which way to go. Up, or down?

Doing an enee-meanie-minee-moe, I started jogging up the stairs. I was up about three flights before I saw another door. I opened it slowly, looking and listening for anyone.

I then went to the next door, peering in.

My heart picked up the tempo: there were cages!

Ade just had to be in here!

I went in, as quietly as possible with shaking hands.

I peered into the cages, barely stopping to look at the little faces that weren't my brother's, feeling a stab of guilt for each one that I passed.

Most of them were asleep, or at least trying to sleep, and only a few noticed something was up: smelling me, seeing the ripple, or having noticed the door opening and closing on its own.

Thankfully, none of them made any noise. I counted about eleven in this room, only half of the cages with experiments, but none of them was Ade. My heart sank about a foot.

I quietly made my way out and on to the next door. And the one after that.

All those faces were burned in my memory, and I felt like my heart wouldn't be able to take much more. But I still made myself go to the next. It was the last room in the hallway, my last chance…

This room was less than a quarter full, like most rooms, and I glanced into each of them quickly. Not seeing Ade, I almost left. But my attention was drawn to a missing cage.

Odd, none of the other rooms had any cages missing. Why was this room different?

"Who's there," a soft cry echoed in the silent room, full of fear and nervous terror.

I sucked in a breath debating as to whether or not it was smart to reveal myself. But what if they knew about the missing cage? Could it be that it was the cage that held Ade?

"Why is there a cage missing," I answered, just as quietly.

A girl, scrunched as far as she could get into the corner away from me sniffed the air, flashing me a glimpse of her rodent-like teeth. She answered shyly, but a little more confidence and volume, "It was taken. Who are you?"

"Ezzy," I answered after hesitating, feeling nervous, knowing that if I got attached to her, I would have to take her with me.

"My name is Mouse," she offered, slowly uncurling herself and stepping towards the direction she sensed I was in, "I'm part mouse and I've been in this facility for three years now."

"Oh," I said, not knowing what else to say to that.

"What are you, how long have you been here, how did you get here, and why are you invisible," she asked all at once, her little face now pressed against the wire closest to me, eager for conversation.

"I'm part bird. I haven't and won't be here long. I'm here for my brother, and I'm invisible because I can be."

"Get us out of here," came a raspy voice, like one that hasn't been used in a long time.

"Rake," Mouse exclaimed in surprise, "you never talk!"

My heart almost stopped, terror of telling them they would be left behind crippling me. What should I do? How should I say it? Should I just run for it now?

"I'm just here for my brother," I finally said to the raspy voice.

"Is his name Ade," the voice asked, cold like steel.

My heart hammering ever faster for a new reason, I almost choked on my words, "Maybe. What do you know?"

"I can help you – we can help you if you let us out. We know this place, and I know where he will be," the voice was cool, even, never faltering.

"Alright," I answered, opening his door first (oh the miracle of bobby pins; never leave home without one). Handing him one of my spares, we had everyone else out in short order.

Handing out the rest of my pins, we split up, heading in groups to the rest of the rooms, freeing everyone and rallying them to a single cause: elude recapture and escape.