"We were loyal… I was loyal… We had a reason to be."

Or was that something that she told herself? She wasn't so sure anymore. Especially with her long, modified life. The mere thought of that made a deep hiss come from within her throat.

"The Elders helped my species. It was genuine what They did. I've seen what They stopped. Such a pointless war." There was a warmness to her words even though she shook her head. Just as the space fairing years of her species were looking bright, they had run into some trouble. "But some species just want to fight no matter what the circumstances are. They want power."

"They stopped and repelled that war. We owed Them our lives. They didn't have to show such kindness, but they did and continued to do so."

A chuckle escaped her lips. A pained one at that. "They nurtured us, caused our world and ones we colonized to flourish. And return we pledged our lives to Them."

"Such a golden age."

But now, but now what she questioned what she saw. Questioned what she knew. All that recorded history… was it true? The prosperity was still continuing around the time she was born and she remembering that time. The memories were so vivid. There was great joy and peace. But was that all a lie? Were her memories truly her own?

"But now… But now…" A sharp hiss came from her; scales on her neck flared up and out. "I question all of that, after witnessing what has happened to your species… what has happened to so many species that have come before your kind."

How so much weighed heavily on her mind. How she hated her one high status amongst the Upper Echelon. Was it truly necessary to strike humanity first to test the capabilities of a species? She knew the Elders' time was growing short, but in doing so, they've destroyed so many humans, so much diversity they could have studied.

She cast a glance to her side, to the human she was talking to. Someone she could call a friend in this resistance group she had joined. Torn was his name. A man with a messy mop of black and brown hair lazily pulled back into a bun. A man riddled with scars he proudly showed to the world. Scars that were hard for her not to stare at. He earned many of the scars during the invasion; her kind was the source of most of the lasting marks. With how severe some were, he should have been dead. Yet, somehow, he was still kicking.

"The venom clouds…"

She studied his face again. It was rare when she didn't. The right half of his face was a mix of black and pink, riddled with burn scars and divots. Barely any hints of his original tawny skin existed on that side. He told her he got that from getting hit point blank by the poisonous venom spit.

"Was a hell of a trip and burned like the dickens. Hotter than cat piss!" He gave a hearty laugh when he told her that story one day. That odd American Southern twang and idioms she had come to learn, mixed with a hint of Thai accent. There was still much to learn about these humans.

Her eyes followed the scar down this his neck. More Several bite marks littered his neck. Close encounters with her modified brethren; Thin Men the humans so lovingly called them. For them to resort to biting, they had to be desperate to get away. Then there was a deep divot of a scar so close to the center of his neck. Rumors said that one came from tangoing with a Chryssalid. It sank a fang into his neck, but he caved its chest in with a well-placed blast from his scatter laser before it could do more damage.

"Insane." She couldn't imagine a human purposefully getting close to one of those slavering beasts. The risk to fight one so close. But there had to be a reason. He wasn't crazy. Well… that crazy.

"Wonder how immune he is to my kind's venoms and poisons now? How immune is he to those savage beasts' venom?" The thought always crossed her mind whenever she studied his scars.

"But it seems he got too cocky one day and lost his arm to one of my 'unmodified' brethren." Possibly the greatest scar Torn had, though now it had been replaced by a cybernetic one. She had seen the recorded video of Torn's group raiding an ADVENT outpost. This one had a Viper running the place. She didn't take their intrusion lightly.

"Crushed two of your comrades to death and managed to get a solid hold on your arm after nearly breaking your back." What happened next wasn't pretty, but she had grown desensitized by the violence. The Viper had a solid grip on Torn before whipping around and slamming him into the side of the building. He got a few broken ribs from that. As she loosened her grip on his chest, her tail coiled around his left arm, became a crushing vice; twisting and breaking bone before she forcefully pulled back, ripping the arm out of the shoulder.

"You should have died that day, but those those bombs your surviving friends planted. And somehow your survived the blast."

She wondered if this man had some guardian over him, keeping him alive through all the things he had been through.

"Somehow you still have that eye." She really questioned how that survived the venom, but he could have received a new one by then. His resistance group had access to adequate tech to do so.

Feeling eyes on him, Torn turned his head towards her. Their eyes meet. A plain face for a few seconds before he slowly grinned. He knew why she was looking. Wrinkled his nose in return, a slight hiss came forth. She was still unsure of the human.

Torn. Such a strange name for a human. Had to be a callsign or nickname. A rather fitting one because of his appearance. Sometimes it was hard deciphering what was one's real name in this group, but she was figuring things out.

But this human was… interesting to her, even as she still tried to gauge him. It surprised her he bothered to talk to her or her children and den mates since they were "accepted" by this resistance group. Learning the origins of several of his scars, she expected him to loathe her kind. Yet he barely treated them with suspicion. Still strange she could call him a friend.

Perhaps it was because the group's psionics saying she, her children, and den mates had no ulterior motives; no active implants could be detected. Perhaps another bonus may have been the important operatives they saved a few days earlier. She was still unsure.

"XCOM." She muttered under her breath. She still couldn't believe she had turned to their side now. She once hunted them during the invasion and partially during her tenure as an ambassador. How things could change.

"Gonna continue your story, Faruk?" Torn asked.

She closed her eyes. Trying her best to hold back a hiss, but one slipped through as her nostrils flared. Faruk. How she was starting to hate that name. The whole identity that came with it. But she couldn't remember her original name. No. Couldn't stand to hear it anymore. That wasn't her anymore. She didn't deserve to be called that either. It was sacrificed when she volunteered to be an infiltrator and then further locked away after the war, as her role was not finished.

"Sorry," she apologized for the hiss, "yes… my story."

Where did I stop? Yes, I remember.

"I've come to question Their kindness as I remember what has happened to my kind." Though she was born far after the initial contact with the Elders, it was still a time of prosperity during her life. But was witness to a great tragedy during her time. A great purge.

"Remember ya mentioning somethang about there being little to no males of your species, right?"

"Yes. There was a purge. Totted as them stopping a 'mad' uprising and then a way to 'better' our species genetics."

"Sounds more like eugenics and wanting control over ya'll."

"Yes… yes…" She was coming to terms with that idea. "But perhaps… we had the more benevolent ones that found us before Their other brethren took over. Yes… maybe that."

"Benevolent Elders?" Torn snorted at such an idea. "Sure there ain't a screw I in your head?" He emphasized by twirling a finger by the side of his head.

Faruk chuckled, covering her mouth with her hand. The things humans would say. "Yes, Benevolent. There are ones that aren't cruel. But it seems such few still exist."

"Sure…" Torn nodded slowly with a raised brow. "I'll believe that when hellfire and stars rain down from the sky and the oceans turn to blood."

She raised a brow at that. "Mm hm." Such a strange thing to say.

There was silence for some time. Faruk returning to her thoughts. Questioning so many of her memories. Torn was enjoying the sunset.

"So…" Torn spoke, yet trailed off as his gaze was focused on the sunset. A subtle orange glow illuminated the sky with reds and purples. The purples slightly enchained by the faint psionic energy permeating the region. "Got any regrets becoming what yer are now?"

"Regrets?" She muttered. A question that burned deep within her. "Do I regret it?" Head turn and and slightly pained scoff. "I don't know how to answer that." She shook her head. "I don't know."

"Old programing causing conflicts? Faint senses of loyalty?" He asked, tapping the back of his head.

She snorted, knowing exactly what he meant. "We didn't have those kinds of implants." One of the few things she was thankful for with how much the Elders deemed her species worthy. Fewer controlling implants compared to the rest under Their control. Instead, the Vipers were 'gifted' implants that granted enhancements. But she felt like some implants monitored what her kind, and could control them to an extent.

"But perhaps…" She raised her hand to her chin. A pair of fingers pulled at her moustache. Facial hair. Hair in general. Still a strange thing. "Yes, and no."

"Yes, and no?" Torn cocked his head to the side. He crossed his arms and leaned towards her. "Oh, do tell me why, my scaley friend."

She snorted at that. Half tempted to smack the smirk off of his face but she would let it slide. For now, she placed a free hand against his chest and pushed him back. He just laughed.

"It's hard to put my thoughts together regarding the subject…" Fingers tightly twisted the mustache as her nose wrinkled. "Truthfully, anger boils inside of me for what they did to some of my children and my den mates after the sacrifice I had made." Those thoughts were very clear.

She twisted the hairs tighter and tighter before finally letting go, head dropping as a heavy sigh came forth. "That promise… that agreement that was struck… The sacrifice I made, a risky one at that." She shook her head.

Sometimes she wondered how she convinced her Masters to let herself volunteer for conversion when she learned of the plan to study this Earth. She was getting old and was best suited to running her den after a nasty injury during her service to Them. But perhaps They saw her age, and the wisdom that came with, as something useful. And then she had the gall to ask for her children to be exempt from the invasion. Perhaps that brazenness, not her lifelong loyalty, amused Them, so They agreed to the deal. How could she be so stupid?

"But it was pointless one, as They had the gall to go behind my back during the… invasion."

"Ah." Torn nodded along. "Out of the large lot of your kids and den mates, a good handful are them Thin Men like you."

She nodded.

"Yeeeeeeaah." He drew the word out as he leaned back against the wall. He smacked his lips a few times and shook his head. "I'd be mighty pissed too if someone dun did that to my kin."

"Still can't believe… They did it… How so much changed during my absence. Years I cannot get back."

It felt like eons before she she saw them once again. Before she was allowed to see them, she under the knife again. For her exemplary service, the Elders were refining her form as a gift. But it was two-fold as They needed a few 'ambassadors' to quell the unease that permeated humanity after the invasion. The Thin Men perfectly fit that role, after further modification. They were accustomed to how humans acted, along with knowing the ins and outs of the surviving cultures. It would speed along the Elders securing the Earth with minor issue.

Yet, she could remember that day she saw her children and den mates again. So many emotions flowed that day.

"That day…" It was already hard for her children to see her in her new form after she first volunteered for the assignment. A strange spindly thing that lacked scales like them. It showed how masterful and terrifying the Elders' hand could be.

Her refined form was met with roughly the same hesitancy once again when she finally saw her family once more. They were happy their mother was still alive, but she was still a strange-looking thing called a "human". But now it looked like her "human" form reflected her age. Wrinkles and graying hair, and regal clothes that fit her status as a matriarch amongst her people, and new status as an ambassador.

"That day…" Her voice wavered for a moment. She hated that day. An already tearful reunion with her family became absolutely tragic. "They had changed a few of my den mates. A few of them died during the invasion. Doing what they were tasked to do."

Thinking of it now, she felt so guilty she didn't bargain for their lives that day. They were under her care; she was the matriarch of a few dens. But she was thinking of her children first. They came first. But even her bargain didn't save them.

"I noticed a few of my children missing. At first I thought they were late. Each had their duties under those they served besides duties to the dens." Her voice continued to waver. She brought a hand to her eyes, hiding the tears that were forming.

"But I noticed how everyone was behaving. There was a thickness to the air. A dread hanging low. No one wanted to tell me what was wrong." How she wished she could go back and change things. "But I could tell something was wrong. Terribly wrong."

How could I have been so trusting?

"Then they arrived… scents twisted. Forms cha-changed just like me." She choked on her words as tears streamed down her face. Seeing her girls like that hurt her so much.

"Uh." Torn eyes widened as he caught the streams running down her face. He had never seen her like that. "Faruck?"

She wasn't one to let her emotions show or get to her. Patient and well-restrained, with a hint of bluntness, was her nature. Correction. There was one emotion that she would sometimes let the get the best of her. Wraith. Never mess with her kin, especially her children, nor those she had come to trust in XCOM. Her expression would barely break from that stone-face they were all accustomed to.

"Eight of them… changed… forms twisted much like mine." Looked like she didn't hear him. "Learned two of them had died during the invasion. They weren't supposed to be there." She still wanted answers for that. "And then I saw him. My youngest son." The runt of one of her last egg clutches before an injury led to her infertility. She let loose a wretched hiss of a wail when she saw him that day.

"Why him?" Out of her three sons, why did They choose him? She had a theory. He was a rather troublesome runt, getting his nose into things where it didn't belong. Perhaps the Elders thought she wouldn't mind the runt of her children becoming more useful and less troublesome.

"Why them? Why him?" Tears full force, Faruk fell to her knees. Eyes close tightly as she tried her best to hold back the emotions.

But she did mind. Oh, she did mind. Her heart truly broke that day. Her sacrifice was made in vain and her children still suffered. That day broke how she viewed the Elders. How could They treat a loyal servant so poorly?

"Gosh." That was the only word Torn could muster once she finished and broke down. A rare time for that mask of her's to crack.

He kneeled, reaching out to touch her shoulder, but before his fingers connected, he stopped. He remembered she didn't exactly like anyone touching her unless she trusted them. Instead, he fetched a handkerchief from his pocket. "Here. For the tears." He handed it to her.

One hand still covering her eyes, she blindly searched for what he was offering with her other. Once found, she quickly snatched the rough cloth.

"T-t-thank you." She said in-between sniffles.

"My pleasure."

It took a few minutes for Faruk to recompose herself. Fighting back memories in-between cleaning her face and sniffles. But the memories were strong. Getting back on her feet, she tossed the tear and snot stained handkerchief aside. But she refused to face Torn; almost embarrassed at herself for losing her composure like that.

"If ya don't mind," Torn carefully paused, trying to judge it was a right time to ask more questions, "I gotta ask—"

"I know if I told you to bite your blabbering tongue you would still talk." She had a rough idea of what was running through his mind, since he had been asking questions about her past. She already opened a can of worms and was still in the mood to share. "So ask."

"Guilty as charged, boss lady." He grinned. She snorted at the nickname. "Anywho, given the chance… wouldcha want yer body back?" Though his brain had wrapped itself around what the Thin Men originally looked like, it was still crazy what the Elders did to make them look like humans. He still questioned why they went the unnecessary extra mile to make them look male. But he didn't ask, fearing it may have been a sensitive subject. "Original body, scales, snake n' all that jazz."

"My old body back?"

A question that played far too many times in her mind. Her mind and brethren who felt like her.

"Do I want my old body back?" She repeated the question. She turned to face him once more. Eyes were bloodshot, but she had a curious look on her face. Eyes shifting to the side for a moment as she searched her thoughts.

"Again… not sure how to answer." She tapped the side of her head a few times. "Brain and pathways have been edited in such a way for this to feel more 'natural' to me to cut down on conflicts to make infiltration more efficient and make me more of an 'authentic' human."

"Right…"

"But," Faruk paused, "who knows how long that will hold. Even with all They have done, I still experience disconnects. Old repressed memories of what I once was occasionally surface."

There were moments when she would see her reflection in the mirror, she would see her old self. That always put her in a sour mood for the rest of the day. And led to many broken mirrors.

"Just disrupts how I function some days. Dysphoria one could say."

"Huh, don't want to imagine how bad that gets fer ya."

"Somedays are better than others."

She took a moment to look down at her hands. Scales. Sandy brown and tan scales with a hint of red. A former part of herself she could bring back after learning the Elders refinement wasn't perfect.

"But to answer, yes. If was possible, I would like my old body back. I want it back." She couldn't deny that deep want, even if it was impossible to get her body back. "I do miss my old body. Same with my family and den mates." She rolled up her sleeves and further examined her scales. So far, a consistent patch of scales went up to her elbow had grown in.

"Why we have out… 'rituals'… to bring back old traits suppressed by the Elders. Helps cut back on the dysphoria."

"Riiiight, you guys little cuttin' and moltn' sessions." Torn was witness to it once and found it strange. "You guys need to warn us when ya'll doing that with what entails." He shuddered. "And properly sign out the medical supplies."

A soft chuckle came from her. "I'll try to keep that in mind."

"But even with that want," a heavy sigh exited her lips, "truthfully, I don't want to go back under the knife. Who knows what further modifications would do to me. I feel as though I'm beyond a threshold both my body and mind can handle."

"I can understand that. Hated my surgery for my shiny arm." Torn grimaced, remembering that day. Not enough anesthetics to numb the pain as the doctors worked. What didn't help was his weird tolerance to the drugs, which required more than the usual amount to block pain for him. "Hate the continued tinkering. I swear Rita has it out fer me."

"You do bother her a lot from what I've observed."

"I'm just sharing the love!"

"Sharing headaches is more like it with how you pester and hover around her work area."

"Yer just jealous of our unique friendship!"

"I would rather eat glass. If possible, still molten."

Something about that statement made Torn break out into a fit of laugher, doubling over on himself. Perhaps it was the slight smirk that accompanied that stone-face of Faruk's.

"Anywho," Torn gothis laughing fit under control, "maybe things will get better fer ya'll.

"One can dream."

"Maybe searching for a new name could help out that process fer ya."

"A new name?" Faruk's brow raised. She eyed him carefully. Did he know how she felt about her name.

"Oh, don'tcha act all surprised. Pretty much everyone knows you hate that name now." He said, rolling his eyes. "Hissn', snortin', and grimacen' every other time it's said."

"Ah… right." So he did know. Looked like she had been doing a horrible time hiding her feelings.

"Hey, yer my friend. I'm gonna help ya." He smiled widely. "Whether ya like it or not."

She shook her head, muttering under her breath. "There's what Rita hates." But there was something about Torn's bullheadedness that was endearing.

Help her find a new name? A little chuckle came out as she shook her head. This human was a strange one.

"Maddening." She wasn't sure what to say to the offer.

"Hey." Torn chuckled, shrugging innocently. "I've got books ya can pilfer through 'em to find somethin' suiting."

"Thank you, Torn. I do mean it." Maybe she would take up his offer. But limit his colorful input.

"Hey, anything fer a friend."