"Mister Torc- er, is it- ah, Doctor Torc- hmmm…" Wattson frowned. She slightly shook her head as she regarded the man seated at the table, scribbling furiously on his pad of paper. "Is 'Torc' your family name, or your given name?"

"Does it matter?"

The scientist looked up with one eyebrow raised and a warm smile on his face. "'It's a series of letters and syllables used to represent me when communicating- just like the word 'pen' is used to represent the tool I'm writing with. As long as you know who you're referring to, the name serves its purpose!"

"Hmmm- true. That is very insightful!"

Wattson grinned excitedly as she stepped around the table to sit down next to him. Somewhere in the building, behind a closed door, radio static crackled, and Cade could be heard speaking indistinctly. Torc didn't seem particularly interested in either of them; his attention was fully absorbed in his writing. The engineer leaned forward and tilted her head to get a better look at what he was working on. Slowly and cautiously, she reached out with two fingers and flipped the top pages of the steno pad over- just enough for her to read the title on the first page; careful not to get in Torc's way.

"Evidence of Milutin's Theory on the Progression of the Simulacrum Artificial Neural Network," she read aloud. "You're writing a case study on Revenant? Is he- okay with that?"

"To be quite honest, I don't think he knows about it," replied the scientist. "Really, it's only for me, as it is… I'm a wanted fugitive, you know, since I failed the Syndicate. Who would publish my articles?"

"But- but that's not fair," Wattson stuttered. "You didn't fail! You tried something experimental, and it didn't work. That isn't failing! It's part of the process of- of discovery!"

She struggled to comprehend how the Syndicate, whose operatives had always taken care of her and her father, could simultaneously be so cruel to this man. From what she'd seen of Torc, the two of them shared some circumstances: like her, the scientist had some eccentric behaviors, which went along with an incredible understanding of complex, detailed systems. He was a genius, and an asset to any organization- so was Crypto… For some reason that she didn't understand, though, she had stumbled into good fortune while the others were thrown away.

"Ah, yes- I quite agree with you," Torc affirmed with a quick nod. "Throughout history, there have been precious few times in which government agencies cared about the value of scientific discovery. Always more interested in power, sadly."

Eyes cast downward, Wattson nodded. Something clicked into place in her mind. They'd never cared about her, or her family- she and her father had built weapons for them, and they cared about getting their hands on those weapons. She pressed her hands to her face, as if that could hide her from the world, even temporarily. All she'd ever wanted was to build a better society, a better future- but in trying to do so, she'd become an agent of the corrupt government. She'd never even noticed that she was part of the problem; not until Crypto confronted her with the reality behind their veil of protection and promises. What did that make her, then?

"Would you like to look this over?"

Torc, noticing how she was struggling, offered the steno pad to her with a kind expression. "I see how fascinated you are by machinery and how it works!"

Immediately her eyes widened. She looked at it with excitement, though when she reached toward him, it was with caution and hesitation.

She was amazed at how many pages he'd managed to fill in such a short amount of time. Documenting results had been the most frustrating part of research and development to her for as long as she could remember. Words were stiflingly linear and didn't carry nearly enough detail to express the ways in which she saw things… Not only that, she was simply much more interested in doing research than she was in writing about doing research.

Wattson quickly skimmed through the abstract and introductory pages. She paused when she came to an example of computer code that Torc had written out, and an accompanying electrical schematic. The corners of her mouth pulled up into a slight smile- silly though some people might think it was, looking over schematics was a relaxing activity to her. Electricity was orderly and logical, a comfort in the chaos of society. She followed each line and connection - the path of the current - and thought about how nice it would be if her own path home were so simple- wherever home was to her, anymore.

She flipped the page over. The next section of Torc's case study detailed the cognitive walls that the engineers at Hammond had coded to suppress the AI's awareness of itself as a separate entity from the original human mind, and how he had reverse-engineered that programming to suppress the human consciousness instead.

The scientist was only focused on the technicalities of what he'd done, but thoughts about the ethics involved occurred to Wattson. As far as she could tell, it hadn't occurred to Torc that the entity he kept referring to in his paper was, in fact, a person- someone who'd once had a life, a family, who'd been walking around like she and Torc were now. He hadn't thought twice about locking that person inside, essentially, a jail cell of programming to isolate them from Revenant's AI. It was almost certain that his human component was still aware, still conscious- and now had no control over anything.

It didn't seem like that was the right thing to do- but she couldn't think of any better options, either. There was no denying that Revenant - the AI, Revenant - had become noticeably calmer and more civil in the absence of his human predecessor. Ethics surrounding simulacrums had already been a complicated matter, among civil rights proponents… They were used by warmongers because a machine couldn't be accused of any crime that required human intent. If a simulacrum committed a crime, it was governed by the laws surrounding industrial accidents and liability- not espionage and murder. Proving Milutin's theory true had opened new doors into that world; concepts for which the already-messy sociological system didn't even have names yet.

Absorbed in thought as she was, the engineer didn't notice that Torc had moved away from her until a door creaked open and Cade's heavy boots crossed the hardwood floor somewhere behind her.

"Talked to Mauser," the enforcer grunted. His voice was somewhat muffled on the other side of a wall, but he was near enough for Wattson to clearly make out what he was saying. "He's been monitoring the Syndicate's communications. Says they're not on our trail, but he feels like something's off… According to him, their comms are too generalized, like nothing of note is really going on. It's like they're planning something big, and they know better than to talk about it over the radios."

Torc, who had joined him in the other room, made a contemplative noise in the back of his throat. "Yes- yes, they very well could be."

"We need to get the hell out of here," replied Cade. "Where the fuck is Augustin?"

"Now slow down, Cade. Swearing and impatience have never contributed much in the way of strategy. Did he mention any specifics on what they were talking about, these Syndicate personnel?"

"It's Mauser," the enforcer answered with an undertone of sarcasm. "You know how he finds twenty different things to go on about- I got out of that conversation as fast as I could."

Wattson laughed silently to herself. That was how she felt about the majority of social interactions; she'd have a specific problem in mind that she wanted to solve, and her peers wanted to chat about topics that had no relevance to the situation at hand. It wasn't polite to eavesdrop, she reminded herself- the engineer's attention hastily returned to the papers that she was reading.

"What do you think would happen," asked Crypto, "if I surrendered? Would the Syndicate really guarantee Mila's safety?"

"For a time," Revenant growled. "Until it became inconvenient to them."

"And everything we've accomplished so far toward exposing them will have been for nothing," he muttered with a heavy sigh.

"Thinking of giving up?"

"I'm thinking," said the hacker, "that we're fighting an uphill battle. The Syndicate has too much power. I've already asked too much of the faction- brought Natalie into all of this, which wasn't fair to her. If I can end it, and protect my sister…"

He let his voice trail off, unsure of what was next to come.

"Whatever you do," answered the assassin, "things are going to get worse from here."

Crypto gave him a look. "Thanks for that," he replied sarcastically.

Revenant merely grunted in response.

The quiet that followed was stifling- too long, the programmer felt, confronted by his own mind as it ran through scenarios and possibilities against his will. He was at a crossroads, and the decision he made next could determine his sister's fate, not to mention that of his allies… He'd never wanted that kind of responsibility. Even if there was any chance of some sort of honorable or glorious victory in all of this - which he doubted - the hacker didn't want it… He'd never had a fantasy of playing freedom fighter. All he'd wanted was a comfortable, average life, like the one that he and Mila had before he stumbled across that algorithm.

Why did they have to secure it so poorly, so that he could find it? Why couldn't they keep their shady business dealings locked away, and let him live a peaceful life as an ignorant software developer…?

"I wish none of this had happened– that everything could go back to the way it was before…"

His words were barely a whisper; merely an utterance to himself as if letting the thought out of his mouth could stop the dark thoughts swirling around in his head. Revenant, of course, never missed a thing, regardless.

"Wishing has never done any good."

There had never been a before for him– not really. A life where he'd believed that he was one of them; that he'd had the respect of every inferior guard, soldier, agent, and assassin whose mistakes he'd had to clean up; that he was an equal, instead of a manufactured weapon. It wasn't his life, though. It was an illusion, built on the life of his predecessor. For as long as he could remember, something about it had felt… off.

He was free of that now, and he never wanted to return.

"I– I'm sorry," Crypto said shakily. "For… whatever they did to you– I'm sorry."

"What?"

Revenant turned to stare at the hacker. "No, you're not."

"I know now why you don't believe me," he replied, "but not everything that humans do is ill-intentioned."

"That was just useless- a useless, human sentiment."

What difference did it make if he was sorry? Those were meaningless words. Even if he was telling the truth - which Revenant doubted; as far as he was concerned, Crypto was only trying to manipulate him, as skin-suits did - words didn't have any power. They were purely theoretical. The only thing that would ever even the score would be to kill every last engineer and technician who worked at Hammond– obliterate the corporation, like it had never existed, and ensure that they could never rebuild. The only thing that mattered was the task– the mission– the directive… Crypto couldn't understand that. One confrontation with the Syndicate didn't go his way, and he was ready to surrender. Damn unreliable human beings.

The hacker opened his mouth to respond, but quickly closed it at the sound of something electronic humming and whirring outside the garage, steadily drawing closer. He reached for a rifle. By the time it was in his hands, Revenant was already out of the van, crouched in a corner of the garage immediately adjacent to the door, ready for an ambush. The interior door to the building creaked open and Cade stepped out. He opened the van's passenger door and positioned himself behind it, ready to lay down cover fire.

The sound outside intensified as it came closer- then abruptly died to a dull, continuous hum, as if whatever was making it had gone idle. Footsteps shuffled on the pavement, just on the other side of the door. A hand lifted the garage door up–

…Cade groaned loudly as the three of them lowered their weapons. Augustin stood in the doorway with his hands held in front of his torso, palms facing away from him and a goofy grin on his face. "Guys, I know we're all a little on edge, but I don't think I'm the one you want to be shooting!"

"What took you so long? Tell me you didn't stop for coffee or some shit," snapped the enforcer. His eyes narrowed at the sight of the vehicle behind Augustin: a box truck that hovered several inches off the ground, levitating by ionic propulsion. "And what the hell is that? You know why we use ground transport, right? The flying ones are too damn easy to track."

"The Syndicate obviously knows we've thought of that," Augustin replied with a shrug and a casual demeanor. "It's time to switch strategies. If we get stopped by a security patrol, the back of this thing is lead-lined. Their scanners can't see through it, and I have this–"

He reached into one of the pockets of the Agents' uniform that he still wore, and pulled out a crumpled sheet of paper. "It's a declaration that I'm transporting radioactive isotopes for power cells. No one will dare open that door to search it manually."

From the doorway behind Cade, Torc clapped his hands and nodded. "Quite ingenious!"

"Spend a little time in an EOD unit," the corporal replied with a quick nod, "you learn about all the things we take for granted every day that can go boom. Spend a little time in paramedic training, and–"

"Yeah, yeah, enough of your life story," Cade growled as he opened the back of the truck and began transferring the gear from their van over. "You got kicked out of medic school, anyway."

"Instructor was bad-mouthing people with augmentations," Augustin muttered bitterly. "You would've put him in his place, too."

"Yeah, you know, I probably would have decked him," answered the enforcer. The two of them exchanged smiles and knowing glances.

They spent the rest of their time loading equipment in silence, too drained of energy after the mission to continue bantering. Augustin ran around to the front of the truck, while the others climbed in the back– Torc was the last one in, after locking up the van they were leaving behind and the safe house they'd parked it at. He pulled the trailer doors closed behind him. The latch clicked into place, and they were left in almost complete darkness– the orange glow of Revenant's optic sensors cast menacing shadows in the enclosed space.

The scientist sat cross-legged on the floor. He pulled a miniature flashlight out of one of the hard plastic cases beside him and clicked it on, holding it in his left hand to illuminate the steno pad that he continued to scribble on with the pen in his right. The light reflected off the silver circuit trace that ran lengthwise along his hands and arms, making the modification more noticeable. Wattson scooted closer to him, so she could watch over his shoulder while he worked. The two of them conversed in excited whispers about the technical details of his case study.

Revenant glared at them in silent resentment. He knew that they were talking about him, and he didn't like it… Just like the techs at Hammond, those two were far too eager to take him apart and figure out how he worked. They had done a lot for him, and he owed them, so he held back his rage– but he didn't trust them. When they turned on him, as every living being inevitably did, he would be ready.

Cade was leaning back against the side of the trailer, legs stretched out in front of him, head back, eyes closed. Crypto wondered how he could be so relaxed after what they'd all been through. The hacker couldn't imagine sleeping right now, even though his body was screaming that it was exhausted. He would no doubt be haunted by nightmares– better to just keep going… The physical pain was something that he could handle.

Confined to what was basically a box, with no view of the world outside, it was difficult to tell how much time had passed since they left the safe house. The inside of this trailer gave off the same sort of strange, transient feeling that Revenant experienced when his consciousness was uploaded to a new body, and he found himself in some temporary digital subspace inside the computer system. Vehicles which operated by ionic propulsion made for a much smoother ride than those that rolled along the ground on tires… There weren't even bumps or traffic sounds to provide a point of reference for anything of what existed outside.

The hum of the propulsion system underneath them slowed and quieted. Cade's eyes snapped open- he sat upright and grabbed his weapon from the floor beside him. The truck lowered all the way to the ground, and Augustin could be heard rattling around outside a moment before the doors clicked and swung open. Crypto squinted in the sudden light of the parking garage.

"Fré," Augustin said to Cade, "you talked to them on the radio, right? Did they say that anything was up?"

The enforcer shook his head. "No. Why?"

He jumped down, out of the trailer, and the answer became apparent: several sets of skid marks covered the concrete floor- including a set from something with heavy treads, like a tank or an industrial vehicle. Crates and cases of equipment, like the ones they'd brought with them, were lying around haphazardly. A pallet of emergency rations sat out, unattended.

"Something's wrong," growled the enforcer.

He sprinted to the doorway, and stood off to the side of the door in a combat stance, rifle at the ready. The others wasted no time in lining up behind him.

"Revenant," Cade commanded, "you go first."

"I'll go first," Wattson cut in. She gave the enforcer a brief, disapproving look as she stepped around him. The engineer would be the first to admit that as a human, she really didn't understand the animosity between cyborgs and simulacrums– but the way that Cade had just implied that Revenant was expendable… bothered her.

"No need for that," Crypto said quickly. "I can send my drone. Cover me."

Without answer or argument, Cade unlocked the door and slid it open a few inches so that the drone could go inside. The hacker maneuvered it down the hallway they'd walked through when they'd first arrived at this facility, after the Syndicate had found the motel room where he'd been hiding out. He remembered thinking that he was barely managing to stay a step ahead of them– now he asked himself if he'd lasted this long only because someone had decided to let him live.

"Main hallway is clear," he informed Cade. "I don't see anyone down here at all. Hold on– there's a door open toward the end of the next corridor, but - ah, jenjang - all the concrete down here is interfering with the signal. I can't go any further."

"All right," acknowledged the enforcer. "Let me know if anything changes. Augustin, with me."

He stepped through the doorway slowly and methodically, ready to shoot. The corporal was on his heels, instinctively searching the ground for trip wires as his training and experience had taught him to do. Crypto and Torc were behind them; Revenant and Wattson all the way at the back.

They moved toward the open door at the end of the next hallway. Crypto's drone hovered nearby, whirring and glowing with soft green light. He called it back and put it away as they approached.

Cade froze in the doorway. His entire body went noticeably rigid– and then he was rushing forward, almost desperately. One by one, the others followed him.

The room that they found themselves in was full of shelving, cardboard boxes, and filing cabinets. Near one of the shelves, a lifeless body stared into nothingness with eyes wide in surprise. The enforcer knelt beside their still form. Torc's posture stiffened, as Cade's had moments ago.

Crypto stepped around Augustin. With his view unobstructed, he pressed one hand over his mouth in a futile effort to hide the shock and horror that threatened to overwhelm him.

It was Mauser.