The two teens flanked Nezumi as they walked a few paces behind the older man. They were walking in the opposite direction of the cityscape. Nezumi was taken down the hill, and into a neighborhood of ramshackle houses that were more in keeping with No. 6's descriptions of outer wall living. The roofs were slumping and the exteriors were peeling. A number were obviously abandoned, and yet there seemed to be people living in quite a few of the others. A small boy's face appeared in the frame of a broken window. He watched their procession with clouded eyes, until an older girl grabbed him by the shoulders and dragged him into the interior of the house.

The scruffy leader entered the mouth of an alley and rapped on the first door. A disheveled young man opened it. Nezumi wondered if the men in the West Block were uniformly disheveled. The man had a long and unremarkable face. He struck Nezumi as the type that went unnoticed in crowds, the kind of person who attracted descriptors like "normal" and "nice guy."

He looked startled, and then nervous, upon seeing the man at the door. "Yoming, sir… Good morning."

"Good morning, Comrade Yamase. There's nothing to be alarmed about, but I was hoping you might allow me and my friends to use your basement."

Yamase peered over Yoming's shoulder and looked from one person to another, before settling on Nezumi. They locked eyes for an instant, and then he was back to Yoming. He swallowed.

"Oh, I see," he said quietly. "I… I was actually about to go down to headquarters right now, but if you'd rather I stay up here…?" His words sounded stilted, as though he were an actor trying to perform lines he hadn't yet mastered.

Yoming grinned. "That's generous of you, but we're fine alone."

Yamase nodded and stepped aside. Yoming strode in, followed by Shion, and then Safu, pulling Nezumi by the rope behind her. Nezumi tried to catch the nervous man's eyes again, but he kept them glued to his shoes.

"Well, then, I'll be going," the man said.

"Yamase."

"Yes, sir?"

"It's really nothing," Yoming said languidly. "We won't be long. In fact, we'll be gone so quickly, it'd almost seem like we were never here. So it's nothing to be concerned about."

"Oh. Yes. It's really not worth mentioning."

"Precisely. I'm glad we understand each other. Tell the men at headquarters I'll be down soon."

"Yes, sir." Yamase turned and left without another word or glance.

"Right then." Safu cleared her throat. "Shall we?"

She pivoted on her heel and headed toward a door at the back of the room. It looked more like the entrance to a vault than a basement door. There was a padlock built into its center, and a small wheel, which he assumed was the handle. Safu blocked the lock so he couldn't see her turning the dial for the code. The heavy door swung open soundlessly to reveal a staircase plunging into nothingness, and Nezumi felt very much like a sheep being led to slaughter.

The basement was pitch black. The darkness and stale air hung over him like a thick blanket. He was shoved down onto a crate, or something of the sort. He sat still, his heart thudding in his ears. Suddenly, a light flared up in front of him. A lantern hung in the air in the far corner of the room. It illuminated Shion's face, but its light did not provide definition to anything else. Still, Nezumi could make out dark shadows, and from those he got the impression that the room was packed with shelves and boxes.

Shion stepped up to hang the lantern from a cord, and then slunk back into the gloom. The light hung low and close in front of Nezumi. The scene was starting to strike him as reminiscent of a Bureau interview. He squinted his eyes to save them some pain while they adjusted to the proximity of the lantern. The older man's face looked gaunt and horrible with the under lighting.

"Bit young for a top ranker, aren't you?" He flashed his canines at Nezumi. "Don't you think, Safu?"

Safu made an indifferent sound and stepped out of the dark to stand beside him.

"So, Mr. Elite," he spread his arms like a host at a grand party, "what does a pretty boy like you have to do to become such a top priority?"

Nezumi's brow furrowed. "I'm sorry?"

"A little slow on the uptake, aren't you, Elite? Let me dumb it down for you. What's No. 6 using you for?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. All I did was wake up this morning, and the next thing I knew, the Security Bureau were sticking guns in my face."

Safu inclined her head. Yoming slipped his gun from his holster and thrust it toward Nezumi.

"Like this?"

Nezumi recoiled with a scowl.

"If you continue to not answer my questions quickly and honestly," Yoming lowered the gun until the barrel was pointed at Nezumi's thigh, "I might get angry and squeeze this trigger."

Nezumi's eyes widened. He looked at the far corner of the room, but Shion was shrouded in shadow. He looked at Safu, but she was unmoved.

These people are insane.

"What was the question?" he asked, taking care to sound as inoffensive as possible.

"Why are you so important to No. 6?"

Nezumi grit his teeth. "You'd have to ask them. I don't have a clue."

Yoming held firm. "Occupation?"

"I work in the Robotics lab."

"Robotics lab?" Yoming's eyes narrowed. "You work on their weapons?"

"No, they don't let me near anything of value. I do system tune ups for the robots and computers."

"Tune ups?"

Yoming glared at Safu. The girl shrugged, keeping her eyes trained on Nezumi all the while.

"Why would they transfer a guy who only does tunes ups to the Correctional Facility?"

Nezumi raised an eyebrow. "To put them in jail?"

Yoming hissed, and Nezumi jerked his leg closer to himself reflexively.

Safu frowned and stepped forward. "My source explicitly said they were rushing a citizen of top priority to the Correctional Facility. You're not telling us everything."

Yoming pointed his gun at Nezumi's head.

He leaned back further to distance himself. "No. 6 treated me differently. I don't know why."

"Different, how?"

Nezumi twisted his wrists in the restraints. "They had me live with a spy. I was constantly under watch."

Safu was looking hard at him, searching his face for signs of something. Nezumi noticed that Yoming was looking at her again. He kept doing that, but why?

Is she trying to read my expressions? Some kind of lie detecting technique? He turned his head down, letting his hair fall into his face to hide his scowl. Great. Here I am again, a prisoner under scrutiny.

The lantern was swaying in front of him, and he watched its shadow waver back and forth over the tips of his boots.

"Why?" Safu pronounced slowly, taking yet another step closer to him.

Nezumi wiped his face clean of expression and raised his eyes to hold her gaze. "I don't know."

"So, to make this abundantly clear," Yoming said, "you were not being moved to a job at the Correctional Facility."

"No, I was handcuffed and shoved into the car at gunpoint. He knows." Nezumi nodded his head in Shion's general direction.

"He was handcuffed when I found him," the teen volunteered from the darkness.

This answer did not please Yoming.

"Why would a prisoner transfer be a top priority operation?"

Nezumi tried to recall what that officer Rashi had said in the car. The events were fuzzy—he supposed he had Shion's pyrotechnics to thank for that—but it was starting to come back in bits and pieces.

"They said… something about funds?" he drawled. "That 'higher management' had some type of investment in me. They..."

They said something about his parents. How they had murdered them to get him. He ground his teeth.

That isn't important right now. I shouldn't think about that.

"This conversation is starting to drag," Yoming grunted. "I'll tell you what, either you tell us everything you know, or I'm going to empty this gun's cylinder into your limbs, beginning with your legs and working my way up to your face."

Nezumi jolted out of his thoughts. The barrel of the gun twinkled in the lamplight. He cleared his throat and swallowed. Yoming grinned.

"The…" He squeezed his eyes shut, sorting through the haze to find something that might be of interest. "Something about brains?" Yoming and Safu's faces contorted. "That… something called 'Elyurias' needed them." He took in a deep breath and shook his head at his captors' questioning countenances. "It sounded ridiculous to me, but that's what they said. That's all the Security Bureau told me before the car blew up."

"What's 'Elyurias'?" Yoming demanded.

"I don't know."

For once, Yoming didn't look at Safu. He stared at Nezumi, the sharp angles in his cheeks pooling darkness in the lantern light. He withdrew the gun. Nezumi exhaled softly.

"This has been a huge waste of time. You have no information. You have no political standing. You know nothing about the Correctional Facility. Is that what I'm hearing?"

Nezumi felt it was wise not to answer, but feared not answering would anger the man even more. He settled for looking uncomfortable.

"You're valuable to No. 6," he said, casting a glance at Safu who was worrying her lower lip. "But you're worthless to us."

He pulled back the hammer on his revolver, and Nezumi's chest constricted.

"Still, this doesn't have to be a total loss. I don't think No. 6 would be too happy if we liquidate their precious investment."

Yoming raised the revolver. Nezumi did a quick calculation of his options. His best chance was to dive to the side and kick the man as hard as possible in the shin. Not ideal. It would only slow him down and there was nowhere to run afterward. But he'd rather get his own parting shot in than sit passively by and take a bullet in the face.

"Yoming, wait." Shion's voice rang out from the darkness. "I need to ask him something."

Nezumi tore his eyes away from the muzzle of the gun. Shion stepped into the range of the lantern and slipped past Safu to the forefront.

"It's about something strange that happened while I was securing him."

Yoming clicked his tongue. "Make it quick."

"When we were escaping from No. 6, we both saw that officer die," he addressed this to Nezumi, but the rest seemed to be an explanation for all the occupants in the room. "The officer aged before our eyes and fell dead in a matter of seconds."

Nezumi could clearly recall the look of raw terror on the man's face before he crumpled to the ground.

"A wasp clawed its way out of his neck." Shion's lip curled. "Anybody would've been distressed by that—a sheltered elite, particularly—but you didn't seem surprised. Why is that?"

Nezumi swallowed thickly, but it did very little to relieve the dryness in his throat. The lantern light was beginning to irritate his eyes. He averted his gaze.

"Look at me," Shion commanded.

He lifted his face. Safu had stepped forward to stand beside Shion, and both were staring intently at him.

Nezumi resisted the urge to click his tongue. "I was surprised, but then I remembered that I had seen it before."

"Inside No. 6?"

"No," he muttered. "I dreamt it."

Safu threw Shion an exasperated look. Shion, however, remained unreadable.

"I see," he said. "So the fact that that man died only after he pointed the gun at you, you're saying that was a coincidence?"

"Your friend didn't die the minute he pointed a gun at me, did he?"

"I don't think you're grasping the gravity of the situation. If you know anything, anything at all, now would be the time to say it. There's nothing unusual about that man dying when he pointed that gun at you?"

Nezumi grimaced. He had a suspicion that it had to do with the voice, but he couldn't tell them that. It seemed crazy to him, how could he expect anyone else to believe it?

"He knows something." Safu spoke to Shion, but at a volume that could easily be heard by all in the room.

Nezumi slumped. I'm going to die.

"I can't say for sure," he relented, "but I think She might've had something to do with it."

"'She?'"

"The… voice in my dreams." Nezumi wondered if it was too late to take a bullet to the face.

Shion's cold look melted. He and Safu frowned in bewilderment. It was quiet.

Nezumi explained further, "I have a reoccurring dream where this voice talks to me, but the other day the dream changed. In it, the voice came to me and told me She's going to give me the power to destroy No. 6."

Almost immediately, a loud laugh broke out from behind Safu and Shion. Yoming chuckled for a handful of seconds.

"So even elites dream about destroying No. 6, huh?" he said after he sobered. "What? Was life too cushy for you?"

Nezumi felt a flicker of anger at the man's insinuation. He was exhausted, his head and shoulder were in pain, and this guy was really starting to grate on his nerves.

Nezumi allowed himself a wry smirk. "You keep throwing around words like 'elite' and 'privilege,' but that only goes to show how little you know about No. 6. It isn't a paradise; it's a machine. Sure, life's cushy, but only if you keep your mouth shut and stay in line. The elite's privilege is their ignorance, and the minute you fail to fulfill the city's parameters, they eliminate you."

"Pretty words from a pretty mouth," Yoming sneered. "If you had spent a day in West Block, you'd know how ridiculous you sound."

Nezumi's eyes flashed in the dim light. "And if you had lived twelve years inside No. 6, you'd know how badly I want to see that city burn."

The atmosphere in the basement felt like it was filled with gunpowder. Nezumi and Yoming were locked in a fierce staring contest. A vein in the older man's temple was throbbing. Safu's eyes darted from one person to another, her expression disgruntled. Shion continued staring hard at Nezumi.

"Well," Yoming said, raising his gun again, "if you really are so special to No. 6, then your death will help both of us achieve our goal."

"Yoming, wait," Shion interrupted for the second time. "I don't think it's wise to kill him."

"Shion," Safu said in a low voice.

She placed a hand on his arm, although it seemed not to serve any purpose but to put her in physical contact with him. Despite the dire circumstances, Nezumi's mind continued to collect data on his surroundings, and he found himself wondering if their relationship exceeded the professional.

"Oh, you don't, do you?" the man snapped, without taking his eyes or gun away from his target. "What is it now?"

"He still could be of use," Shion pressed on. "Shooting him now would be premature."

"No, it'd be preemptive. Today was our first real strike at the heart of No. 6, and I only approved the operation because I expected to gain a weapon, or intel, at least, but what do I get? This useless fucking idiot!"

Nezumi bristled. He bit the inside of his cheek to check himself before he lunged at the man. If there weren't a gun between them, he wouldn't have bothered restraining himself, tied up or not.

Yoming tore his eyes away from Nezumi to spear Safu with them. "This is the last thing I need when there's a Hunt coming any day now! Your sources were shit!"

Safu set her jaw. "My sources were right," she growled. "They were moving a top priority citizen. It's not my fault he doesn't know anything."

"It's not Safu's fault," Shion said evenly. Among the flaring tempers in the room, he alone managed to keep his composure. Or, at least he was skilled in keeping up the pretense of calm.

"Well, now No. 6 knows we exist, and we've gained nothing for our trouble! If he's really as important as your sources made him out to be, they probably already have satellites trained on West Block searching for him. Keeping this brat around will only paint a huge target on our backs." Yoming wrapped his other hand around the grip of the revolver. "We kill him now, and we cut our losses and deprive No. 6 of whatever it is he does."

Nezumi held his gaze. Whether it was bravado, brought on by the insults he'd suffered, or a defiant permutation of death acceptance, the more crazed the older man became, the less the gun pointed his way alarmed him.

"I understand your frustration." Shion punched out each word with measured moderation. It was the kind of voice Nezumi imagined one might use with a cornered animal. "But just because he's unable to explain his usefulness, doesn't mean he's actually useless. We didn't learn much from him, I'll admit, but the information he did have is worth looking into. He raised interesting points about the Correctional Facility, about this Elyurias. And I'm still not convinced," he glanced at Nezumi, "that he doesn't know more about the Bureau officer's death."

"What are you trying to say?" Yoming growled. The vein in his temple was getting more conspicuous.

"Let Safu look into his claims about the Correctional Facility. Killing him now will protect us in this moment, but I believe it will deprive us of valuable options in the future. For example, as you said, now No. 6 knows we exist, and that we've declared war on them. It doesn't matter who we blame for this, because it's an unchangeable fact. They'll want us destroyed, and even if this elite is dead, it won't prevent them from sending the army to exterminate us. It may even cause them to strike quicker.

"But," Shion emphasized, letting the word hang in the dusty air until Yoming stopped glaring daggers at Nezumi and whipped his head around to face him. Released from the man's murderous glare, Nezumi, too, turned his attention to the boy. For the moment, he was trying to save his life, and therefore his arguments were of greater importance than the gun.

"If No. 6 knows we have him alive," Shion continued, "that could be the only thing preventing them from killing us immediately."

Yoming opened his mouth, no doubt to demand an explanation, but Shion raised his voice a fraction to cut him off. Safu looked stricken, but Nezumi was delighted at the violent shade of red the older man turned when he realized he had been talked over.

"You weren't there when I was securing him, but the officers avoided him entirely. They only fired at me, and one officer even admitted they had orders not to harm him." Shion shrugged a shoulder. "True, he only has value to No. 6, but if No. 6 comes down here to kill us, then their respect of that value is the only thing that counts, and it only lasts so long as he lives."

Shion waited for Yoming to refute him, but the man only seethed. Nezumi cocked an eyebrow.

"Safu's good at what she does," Shion said. "If you're willing to give it a little time, I have no doubt she'll be able to discover what this Elyurias is and why the elite is crucial to No. 6's plans."

Safu blinked at Shion's profile. She had not released his arm from when she had latched onto it.

"In the meantime, he makes a fair shield."—Nezumi frowned at his word choice—"I don't think we lose anything if we keep him alive. But it's your call, Yoming. I won't fight you if you disagree with my reasoning and decide killing him is the best course of action. You're the leader and I trust you to do what's best for the group."

Yoming narrowed his eyes at the insubordinate teen. His revolver was still cocked, but throughout Shion's speech he had lowered its aim to the ground between Nezumi's feet. Shion and Safu patiently awaited Yoming's decision.

In the interest of his life, Nezumi followed suit, albeit while frowning. He wasn't entirely comfortable with this group's choice to allow this obviously psychotic scumbag to occupy the leadership position. Despite the merit in Shion's argument, Nezumi felt it was just as likely that the man would execute him just to assert the dominance his underling's fearlessness deprived him of.

"Safu," Yoming barked.

Safu slipped her hand off Shion's arm and stood at attention. "Yes, sir?"

The girl did not show any outward signs of being intimidated. Her voice was level when she spoke, and her face was set in a look of undaunted determination. Nezumi had to give her credit for her sublime self-control.

"Are you confident you can uncover the truth behind this," he sneered, "idiot's testimony?"

Nezumi took his insult with a wan smile, but only because his question indicated that he had decided not to shoot him in the face.

"I am," she said with no deficit of confidence.

Yoming pressed his lips into a hard line. "I suppose having a bargaining chip against No. 6 would be beneficial."

Nezumi released a soundless exhale.

"But keeping him around is going to be a hassle," Yoming grumbled. "Not to mention a danger to our group's safety." He leered at Nezumi. "He can't be allowed to wander around or the satellites will pick him up… Shion."

"Yes?"

"Since you're so intent on keeping him alive, you're in charge of him."

Shion blinked. "Me?"

"Yes, you. You know the consequences if you fail, so I'm sure you'll do a fine job of it. Besides, you have plenty of practice with rats, don't you? I'm sure adding one more to your nest won't be a problem." The corners of Yoming's mouth curled up in a mirthless smile.

Shion and Nezumi shared a look. The dark-haired boy's eyes flickered with an array of emotions, most of which were inscrutable to Nezumi. The lighting in the room made it difficult to discern the subtle differences between such sentiments as pity and disappointment.

"I understand," Shion said at length.

"Fine, then. It's settled. Safu, I better see results."

"Yes, sir."

"Let's get out of here. This took much longer than it should've, and wasn't worth the time and effort. Safu, go on ahead and tell the men at headquarters to prepare."

Safu hesitated. Nezumi watched Shion squeeze her hand once. In the dim light, and at the angle Yoming was standing in relation to the two teens, it was unlikely he saw the action. Nezumi only saw it clearly because he was seated and had a lower sightline.

Definitely more than coworkers.

Safu exhaled. "Understood. See you later, Shion." She offered the boy a small smile and walked up the stairs. A bright light illuminated the room when she opened the door to the upper floor. Nezumi caught glimpses of stacks of wooden crates, but the harsh white light stung his eyes. The last thing he noted before the room plunged back into darkness was that the walls of the room were made of concrete. Not your typical basement. It may have been a shelter of some sort in the past, he thought fleetingly.

Shion sighed under his breath. He took hold of the rope lead and tugged once to signal Nezumi to get up. Nezumi scowled at his condescension, but rose nonetheless.

"If I'm dismissed?" Shion posited to his superior.

"You may go."

Shion strode toward the stairs with Nezumi in tow.

"Shion."

Shion paused and turned to face Yoming.

"If you ever speak so impertinently to me again," he reset the hammer of the revolver, "I won't hesitate to make a public example of you."

Yoming wasn't looking at Shion, and instead focused his complete attention on shining the muzzle of his gun. Shion waited a moment, just watching him do so.

These two have some serious alpha male complexes. Nezumi frowned. Never thought that this kid had it in him, though. He doesn't look like much. Shion's frame was scrawny under his russet coat, and his face, boyish on its own, was rendered more childlike by his feathery hair. Still, there was something in his eyes. Something in the way they caught the light.

"My apologies," Shion said respectfully. "I'll be more careful."

Shion pulled the rope again, and they mounted the stairs. Nezumi took one last look back and locked eyes with Yoming. They burned like coals beside the lantern flame. The next moment, the light of the open door eclipsed all.