Finally, Mag was able to make a living herself rather than relying on others. Through Marni, she had been given a job as a gentern.

She had no experience or knowledge of medicine so she was told to go file papers.

Everyday she worked; earning the meager living she was given. She hated her job, but she never complained to Marni. She just couldn't seem ungrateful in front of someone who had done so much for her.

Stuck inside the storage room, she worked alone. Once in a while, she sang as she worked to pass the time. It soon became more frequent, and she made a habit out of it. What she didn't know was that people passing by could hear her.

They would walk by the storage room, and hear the familiar sound. They smiled, and when asked what it was by those who didn't know, they responded:

"It's just the filing girl."

No one really knew her name or face, since she never came out of the storage room. She became a sort of enigma almost. The genterns knew someone was in there, but they never really checked to see who it was. All they knew was that it was a woman with the voice of an angel.

Singing was only a fun pastime for Mag. She never really thought about using it to make a living. In truth, she had always thought that fame was just another of feeding your ego, so she was particularly against performing of any kind. Marni had always been the one in the limelight, and Mag wasn't willing to switch places…ever. She had zero interest in receiving attention from strangers.

They days turned to weeks, and the weeks turned to about two months. She could feel the wedding day looming over her like an ominous shadow. But, the only thing she could do was file and sing.

Rotti Largo was led down the hall, surveying his empire when he heard her. A sad song full of melancholy and desperation, yet sweet and pure at the same time reached his ears.

"Who is that?" he asked the gentern, who had been rattling off data.

Slightly offended by being interrupted, she replied.

"Oh, that's just the filing girl. Now, if we may proceed…"

Instead of continuing on, he drew to the storage room door, much to the annoyance of the gentern.

"Sir, if you would just…"

"Would you shut up?" he snapped, trying to listen.

She became silent in quiet indignation. Rotti opened the door slowly, praying it wouldn't make a sound. Thankfully, it made no noise, and he was able to slip into the room without a sound.

Mag's voice echoed off the shelves that lined the room, making it seem as if the air itself was singing.

He wandered down the aisles, searching for the source of the melody. He found her in the back of the room; sitting as well as she could in the skimpy gentern uniform.

She was shuffling through papers, her mind wandering. She never noticed that Rotti was watching her from the shadows.

Her song ended, and she jumped at the loud echo of clapping. She turned quickly to see Rotti, applauding with his beefy hands.

"Bravi, bravi."

She didn't blush as he had thought she would. She only looked him in the eye as if she was his equal. She wasn't afraid of him.

"May I help you Mr. Largo?"

He was surprised by her cool manner. Usually, people threw themselves at his feet. He never really had an equal before, or anyone who thought he was an equal. He was like a god, or a higher being to everyone. Even his Marni thought of him as larger than life. Although she tried to hide it, he could see it in Marni's manner and in her eyes. He had to admit, Mag's behavior was intriguing although somewhat annoying.

"Nothing really." He replied airily. "I just wondered where that lovely sound was coming from."

She hid a smirk.

"And you're shocked it's me."

It wasn't a question. She stated it as a fact, since it was obvious he hadn't expected her to be useful in any way, or have any talents whatsoever.

He was unnerved by her uncanny ability to read people, and the strange way her new eyes seemed to see nothing, yet everything.

"Yes." He bluntly replied.

There was no use beating around the bush, since she would be able to tell if he was lying.

"Well, now you know who it was."

She made a move to go back to work, but he stopped her with a clearing of the throat.

A new way to make money spun in his head, and it was all thanks to Mag.

"How would you like it if I made you a star?"

"In truth," she responded. "I wouldn't like it all that much."

Did she just turn down fame? Did she just refuse an offer from Rotti Largo? The shock was plain on his face, but she pushed on.

"Your voice is lovely Tanya!"

"Magdalene."

"What?"

"My name is Magdalene."

He coughed awkwardly. Who really cared if her name was Tanya or whatever? She was just one more way to make millions.

"Reconsider Magdalene! You could be brilliant!"

She simply continued to flip through the files.

Growing angry, he snapped his fingers. If he couldn't coax her, he would have to blackmail her. A gentern came running in.

"Yes Mr. Largo?"

He never took his eyes off Mag, smirking, She was starting to get a bad feeling about that expression.

"Get me Article W212X3900Hb."

The gentern nodded, and trotted off into the deep, unexplored territory of the storage room.

"You see, this is best. Just agree, and the whole mess will dissolve."

She stood, her eyes flashing in anger.

"You may control Marni, but know this. You can never control me."

She haughtily flipped her hair over her shoulder. Slowly, his anger was building. This woman dared to talk back to him? He revealed no fury though, only keeping the Cheshire grin.

The gentern returned, holding a file in her hand. She held it out to Rotti, who snatched it and flipped to a certain page.

He held it out triumphantly, and Mag stared, blinking. She bit her lip and glanced at his triumphant smile.

"Now do you see?" he asked proudly.

"…I can't read."

The gentern bit back a giggle, and was instantly sent running by a glare from Mag's strange eyes.

Rotti was more surprised than amused.

"Then how can you keep this job?"

She gestured to the marked files with impatience.

"They're color coded."

"Ah."

She rolled her eyes, and crossed her arms.

"Care to tell me what it says?"

He stared at her for a moment, then returned to the document. He cleared this throat and began to read.

"I, Magdalene Defoue, swear to pay my debt of one billion dollars through the system of GeneCo's signature payment plan. If I cannot fulfill these terms, I shall pay off my debt in whatever way Rotti Large decides."

With a triumphant manner, he rolled it up and placed it on a nearby table.

"Can you pay off that money, Mag?"

"No, and do not call me Mag. It becomes soiled when it comes from your lips.

His smirk faltered for a moment, replaced by clear anger. As soon as the façade slipped, it was readjusted.

"Then, Miss. Defoue. I ask again. Can you pay me right now?"

She didn't bother to conceal her hate.

"You know perfectly well I can't."

"Then, you will sing away you debt! You will work for me as a star in the…the…"

He struggled to come up with a name for the new scheme. It hit him like a bolt of lighteneing.

"The Genetic Opera!"

"I no longer have a choice…do I?"

"Oh, there's always a choice Miss. Defoue.

"There doesn't seem to be one in this case."

"Of course, there is! It's simply obey me, or I take the eyes back."