11:

Hiro woke with a headache.

He wasn't sure what he had been expecting- after all he had literally been beaten unconsciousness and that almost guaranteed some side effects. Head splitting headaches was one of those.

He winced, going to curl up further in himself. He twisted his body as if to draw his knees to his chest when something jerked and caught around his ankle. Confused, he jerked on the resistance to no prevail.

"What?" he groaned, blinking blurry eyes open.

Predictably enough, he was met with the plain gray colors of the wall and floor. Something silver was wrapped tightly around his ankle, keeping him tethered to the wall.

"I wouldn't move so much," a voice, masculine and unfamiliar, informed him and it lacked the hostile note in the guards' voices.

Hiro twisted his body so he could get a better look at his companion, finding the action more difficult than it probably should've been. His head seemed to be incased in a cotton, a thick blanket dampening his senses in a way that was almost disorienting.

"What'd I say?" the voice asked but it came out different then Hiro expected, more reserved and sympathetic.

"Where are we?" Hiro demanded anyways, forcing himself to sit upright and ignore the way the room seemed too swirl in a dizzying display of gray, "Who are you?"

Because even as confused as he felt at the moment, he knew that that was supposed to make sense- important even- and once the room finally stopped spinning he would finally be able to focus on something more than the pain and confusion mixed inside his skull.

"Me?" the man asked and dark eyes seemed to lock onto everything within Hiro as he considered the youth with a sadden expression as he explained in a dull voice, "I'm the reason you're here."

Hiro recoiled.

Or, more accurately, his body did.

He blamed Tadashi and his aunt for ingraining it somewhere deep inside him to react whenever faced with a potential threat to his safety. Someone who could possibly know about his secret and threaten him with it.

Except he's already screwed that one up on his own- no help necessary- and he didn't really regret the decision just like he doesn't regret rushing in the building to rescue his brother.

He did, however, regret getting caught but not even that's enough to convince him that, given the chance, he wouldn't do it all over again. He would, without hesitation, because he valued his brother's life so much higher than his own.

That was the one thing him and his brother will infinitely disagree upon and Hiro knew that, though Tadashi loved him dearly, he didn't with the sort of recklessness as Hiro does. He doesn't place more value on him because of it, giving him a sense of self preservation.

That's why Hiro knew he didn't have to worry about his brother doing anything stupid or, at the very least, stupider than Hiro.

He might have to worry about his newest cell mate, especially with a confession like that.

"What do you mean?" Hiro demanded when the man continued to regard him with a look much like those of an upset puppy.

"I mean," the man explained and for the first time since Hiro's been able to focus on him he looked away, "exactly what it sounds like."

A chill crept down Hiro's spine at the words, something eerie and almost sinister settling around him. Violating the air with the ominous tone.

"Who are you?" Hiro repeated, more reserved and cautious than before as he kept special precaution on keeping the distance between him and the stranger.

Not that it would really matter all that much if he cared to be honest. Not considering he appeared to be chained to the wall and floor and the stranger wasn't though he didn't appear to be in any hurry to move any time soon. Especially not to lash out and attack him.

"My name?" the man asked and he seemed to take a second to ponder it, which did nothing to calm Hiro's frayed nerves before he replied simply, "I was once known as Alistair Krei."

The name struck a familiar cord from with Hiro's chest, causing his heart to leap though he couldn't decide if it was because of panic or surprise. Probably both.

"Krei? You're dead," Hiro protested and regretted it the second it left his mouth, realizing how idiotic that really sounded.

Alistair just chuckled, a soft sad sound, as his gaze dropped to the floor and Hiro felt something strum within him as he realized the man was a prisoner too. He just couldn't figure out why he was still alive and not dead like the world knows him to be.

Because Callaghan wants him alive.

Hiro swallowed thickly, hunching his shoulders in a protective gesture as he continued to eye the man for any potential threats. He didn't suddenly lash out, at least, reaching out to strike him down or hurt him and in many ways that seemed almost worst.

All these years Hiro's grown quite good in dealing with pain, not whatever was happening in the confined cell with a dead stranger.

"I don't understand," Hiro finally spoke up, sounding timid as he blinked owlish eyes at the man.

"Of course not," Krei agreed with a single dip of his head like he knew what Hiro was thinking, "After all, I've been dead a long time. Longer then you might actually suspect."

Hiro tensed at that word. Dead. It seemed almost crude and unnatural, cold and sinister like everything Hiro's every connected with the Empire though he was starting to expect that it wasn't that simple.

Alistair must've caught on to his look because he chuckled again, something between a grimace and smile twitching the corner of his lips and he looked ancient though Hiro suspected that he was quite a bit younger than Callaghan.

"Don't look so worried," Alistair sighed and Hiro felt his cheeks flare up as he ducked his expression, Alistair continuing in a more subdued tone, "My body is still very much alive. It's more my soul that's dead."

"Because of Callaghan," Hiro ventured and it came out more as a statement than anything else.

"No," Alistair denied and Hiro's head snapped up to gape openmouthed at the man, who went on to explain, "I did it all to myself, a long time ago."

And despite everything within Hiro protesting against it, he asked, "Meaning?"

Alistair's eyes flickered over to him, something seeming to harden within them as he replied a little too quickly, "Nothing."

Hiro opened his mouth to protest when the door opened, emitting a rectangle of light to shine across the floor and opposite wall. A guard stood in the middle, dressed in a spotless uniform as he seemed to glower at the both of them. It wasn't exactly disdain but there was no compassion either.

Alistair shocked Hiro when he spoke first.

"What do you want?" the man demanded, drawing his knees to his chest and focusing on the opposite wall like he was bored, like he wouldn't get beaten by the rude way it came out.

To Hiro's surprise, he wasn't.

"I've come to speak to the boy," the guard explained, snake eyes focusing on Hiro in a way that made him shiver in anticipation.

He was terrified and felt no need to suppress it.

"Don't show them fear," Alistair spoke and Hiro glanced at the man only to realize he had turned his eyes so he could stare at Hiro, eyes hard and dark and something else Hiro couldn't quite figure out.

Hiro frowned, the guard growling lowly in his throat as he grew impatient, stomping over to where Hiro was still sitting. He bent over, fingers gripping Hiro's bicep in an iron grasp as he forced him up to his feet. The world tipped over sideways, making Hiro's stomach lurch and eyes cross.

"Who are you?" the guard demanded, giving him a slight jolt as he tightened his grasp and Hiro knew there was no question in rather or not it's going to bruise later.

"Hiro Hamada," he blurted out instantly, head spinning in crazy directions as he focused on remaining upright and not embarrassing himself like he felt he was going to.

"Not your name," the guard snarled and he shoved Hiro back on the ground; Hiro's knees gave out almost too easily as he toppled over, "Are you the Avatar?"

Hiro tensed, biting his lip as he duck his expression which he figured must've given him away considering the guard cursed under his breath, rearing back to kick Hiro again. He figured he must have cursed him some too but something was buzzing as Hiro felt vertigo threaten to overwhelm him and drag him somewhere safe and familiar.

"Enough!"

Amazingly, the guard stopped and Hiro took time to realize he was curled up in on himself. His head ached and the chain keeping him chained to the wall was now pulled taut. His breathe came out in long labored breaths and it amazed him of how the fear just seemed to be sinking in.

He blinked dark eyes open, peeking around the arm he had thrown over his face for protection and was surprised to see that Alistair had been the person who intervened. The man was now standing on his feet, face dark as he narrowed a focused gaze at the guard.

"Callaghan won't take kindly to you hurting the Avatar without permission," Alistair reasoned and though his voice was neutral, his face was fierce.

"And are you going to tattle on me?" the guard demanded, setting his shoulders in a threatening gesture and Hiro blinked as he realized that it probably wasn't the first time Alistair threatened their authority.

The fact that he wasn't dead yet probably said a lot.

"I might," Alistair replied with a dip of his head, like he was considering it, before he focused back on the guard with a look that made Hiro's skin crawl as he added, "Though the bruises might be a giveaway in themselves."

The guard sneered one last time before glancing down at Hiro. He spat in his direction, showing his disgust, before he stomped away leaving Hiro lying on the ground still hurt and confused. On the other side of the cell, Alistair seemed to relax fractionally as he hunched back over exhaustion written all over his face.

"You alright kid?" he asked, sounding cautious and Hiro stretched slightly wincing at the way his bones seemed to ache at the movement.

"I'll live," he reassured anyways, forcing himself to sit upright as the room spun again making him sick and dizzy.

"Perhaps you should lie down," Alistair suggested anyways voice gentle but otherwise emotionless as he focused back on Hiro, "before you pass out."

Hiro bit his lower lip as he sat back so he was propped up by the cold surface of the wall. He blinked, feeling suddenly very small as he curled his knees to his chest and focused on Alistair's outline from the other side of the cell.

"I'm fine," he reassured again, "The real question is who are you?"

Alistair ducked his head as he murmured, "I already told you. My name's Alistair Krei."

"I know," Hiro nodded despite the fact that there was no way Alistair could've seen him as he wasn't even looking at him, "but why are you locked in this cell? And why does the world think you're dead?"

"Because no one wants to look for a dead man," Alistair said like that explained everything- which it totally didn't.

"But why are you here? Locked in here because from what I remember you're not a bender," Hiro protested, hunching his back forward as he blinked at the man with wide brown eyes.

"That, I'm afraid is a long story," Alistair sighed, still refusing to meet Hiro's gaze.

"Well, apparently we've got the time," Hiro reminded, settling his chin on his knees as he continued to just stare at the man.

This time, Alistair did look at him.

He stared for a long time, not blinking, as he seemed to consider rather or not he wanted to tell Hiro. He must have finally decided as he let out another sad sort of sigh as he ducked his head and nodded.

"Alright," he agreed with the slightest of quiver in his voice, "but only if you promise to not interrupt me."

Hiro set one of his hands against his chest while he raised the other one and swore, "I promise."

Alistair narrowed his eyes, like he didn't believe him, but he spoke anyways, "Alright. As you may already know, I was born in a wealthy sort of home."

"And you're not a bender," Hiro reminded, earning a hard glare from the man; he shrunk back as he quickly apologized, "Sorry. Continue."

Alistair stared for a long time before he sighed again and continued with his story.

Alistair Krei was born a fortunate man.

For one, he was rich and it was no secret. By the time he was born, everyone knew the Krei name as one to admire and slightly fear. After all, they were one of the most influential families of their time and just being born gave Alistair a huge advantage over everyone else.

He was also very smart, which seemed to run down the family. By the age of seven he had already built his own porotype and everyone was certain he was destined for great things. That's why it came to no one's surprise when he turned 14 and won an award for his achievements thus far.

By the age of 18, he was ready to split off from his father's full name and start his own company. Or, at least, he thought he was. As it turned out, it's impossible to start a company without any employees and Alistair had a bad reputation as a boss.

It wasn't like it was fully his fault. He'd been raised so spoiled that he just expected everyone to treat him with a certain level of awe and to not have people question his authority. Soon enough, people gave up working under him and his company went belly up before it ever really got started.

Not like that was a terrible loss for him. He just went back to his father's company and worked beside him, a man so feared by his employees that they feared even thinking negatively about him. Unfortunately, the same sort of caution had not been passed down to Alistair.

"You make me sick," someone muttered one day and Alistair had grown accustomed to his father's employees to voicing their distain but it never really got physical. Until that day.

He had been passing through, observing everyone at work, when he had been grabbed from behind and shoved against a wall. In front of him, elbow pressed into his throat, was an employee whom Alistair knew had been on his dad's radar for a while now for being too lax at work.

Alistair gagged, eyes narrowed furiously, as he tried to find his voice but couldn't. The elbow buried in his jugular was making that impossible and it was only from sheer willpower that he was still breathing.

"Strutting around like you own the place," the employee continued and he leaned forward, elbow pressing even further in his throat and Alistair felt his eyes roll back as he tried forcing the man off him.

His arms were like Jell-O though and he had always been built slimly. Not to mention the employee was almost twice his age and had several feet and pounds on him. There was just no way he was going to be able to force the guy from him.

That didn't mean he had to quit though and he's always had a sort of fiery personality so he did the only thing he could- he glared. All the while his throat was being crushed and there was a good chance that if the man didn't stop soon then he was going to die.

The man didn't look like he was going to quit anytime soon.

Alistair gagged again, surprised and a little horrified when no sound came out. He was just gapping like a fish out of water, desperately seeking out the oxygen he needed so badly only to come up empty.

So this is what death feels like? he thought as black oozed in with his sight and he felt his arms and legs go limp.

Somewhere through the fog in his brain, he was aware of a sudden shift in the atmosphere. Someone shouted something but it sounded muggy, drowned out by the violent ringing in his ears, and then the pressure against his throat disappeared and he was free.

It was like suddenly being shocked, his body jolting back into action to keep him alive.

He choked, sinking down to the ground since his legs had long since given up on him and the pressure keeping him upright was gone. He coughed and gagged, hand reaching up to massage his sore throat as he forced air back down it and to his lungs.

He was also incredibly tired.

He knew better than to sleep, though, so pushing back the urge he blinked dark eyes back open so he was able to see his attacker was now pinned across the adjacent wall, a man several years older than Alistair holding him there.

Alistair was unable to see his face but it was obvious that all the muscles in his back were tense and tight with anger and he was screaming something. Once the ringing died away, Alistair could make out what.

"-face the wrath of his father. Are you really that stupid?" his savior demanded, giving the man a slight jostle though the man seemed unconcerned, dark eyes filled with hatred focusing on Alistair on the floor struggling to breath.

"Does it even matter?" the man demanded finally, eyes drawing back to Alistair's savior as he snarled, "The kid just struts around all the time like he owns the place, like he's better than all of us, when really he just runs and hides behind daddy-dearest."

Alistair flinched, stress causing his body to run so thinly that he didn't have enough time to stop it, and he hated to admit it but the words stung because they were true. He has demanded on his father's name, wealth and reputation for far too long.

"So what? You were going to kill him?" his savior demanded, shaking the man again as he growled, "How do you think his father will respond to that?"

"Who knows?" the man asked, voice soft and sort of dreamy, "and who cares?"

"People like you makes me sick," the man growled, voice colored in fury as he continued, "Constantly trying to play God like those bender scum running around everywhere. Only difference is that you're just like the rest of us, plain and desperate."

The man growled.

The next time he moved, though, Alistair's savior knocked him out with a solid punch to the jaw. It was impressive, to say the least, especially considering how much more bulk the man had on his savior. Then his savior was turning around and Alistair found himself unable to focus on nothing but the stranger's kind features.

His face was round in a kindly sort of old person way but his features were young. Almond colored eyes seemed to glisten with a youthful hue, giving his face an almost timeless look and when he looked at Alistair it was one of concern, not distain like he was so used to.

"Are you alright?" he asked, swooping down real close and Alistair swallowed before he realized he was expected to answer.

He nodded, brain still dizzy as his body readjusted back to its normal setting. His throat was sore and he had a slight headache but otherwise was fine. He'd live, at least.

"I'm fine," he managed ignoring his savior's outstretched hand as he rose back to his feet and brushed himself off- business as usual.

"I'm glad," the man nodded not at all offended as he dropped his hand and asked, "You're Alistair Krei, correct? The man born with it all?"

"That's what they say," Alistair affirmed, voice smooth and businesslike as he posed himself for some sort of expectancy of an award from the man.

Instead the guy just nodded like he already knew as he continued, "I'm Robert Callaghan. I work downstairs."

Alistair blinked at that as he replied, "But we're on the first floor. All that's beneath us is the mail room."

"Exactly," Robert agreed with a nod, "and every single letter and package is hand checked, sorted and delivered."

Oh.

Oh.

"But surely a man like you stands a little bit higher," Alistair protested, recalling how the person that attacked him at least had a decent job on one of the higher level floors.

Robert just gave a slight shrug as he explained, "I was born in a poor family. Not much was expected from me and it's a miracle I got a job where I did."

Except that seemed wrong to Alistair.

Infinitely wrong.

He opened his mouth to protest when a bell rang somewhere down the hall, the noise shrill and caused his ears to curl up in distaste. Robert seemed unaffected by the brutality of it, though, just turning his head to blink down the hall.

"That's my cue to leave," he informed him and disappeared before Alistair ever got a chance to thank him.

Alistair didn't see Robert for another three days.

That could've been partly because his father flipped when he saw the bruising around his neck, sending him home immediately and forbidding him from coming back until they at least faded. When he finally returned from his third day of house arrest, he was surprised to find most of everything had been changed.

The most noticeable difference was how most of all his father's old employees were now gone- fired if Alistair had to harbor a guess. He didn't need further reasoning to realize that it was most likely his fault. It had been by complete accident that he even managed to bump into Robert at all.

Alistair pressed the button on the elevator, stepping back to await the beckoning ding. When the door slid open, though, Robert Callaghan stepped out clutching a cardboard box with a gloomy expression that didn't even seem to brighten upon seeing Alistair. In fact, there was nothing- not even recognition.

Funny considering how much Alistair's thought of the man the past three days.

"Hey," Alistair greeted anyways, stepping towards him with a friendly grin.

Robert glanced up, his grim expression brightening only slightly as he shifted the box to a better grip and said, "Hey Alistair. I was just leaving."

"Why?" Alistair demanded tempted to rip the box from Robert's hands and demanded him to be moved to the highest position available.

"Didn't you hear?" Robert asked and must have realized from Alistair's dumb expression that he had not because he elaborated, "You're father laid everyone off, said he was hiring a brand new batch of people."

"Did he say why?" Alistair inquired though he feared he already knew the answer; his father was a naturally stoic person but Alistair knew that he's always cared.

"Mhm. No," Robert said with a shake of his head before leaning in and adding, "Though if you ask me I'd say it has something to do with your little accident."

Alistair drooped his shoulders as he muttered, "That's what I was afraid of. At any rate, I'm sorry you lost your job because of me."

"Not you," Robert reminded and it sounded like he meant it.

Alistair gave him a gentle smile before something clicked inside him and he refused to allow a good man like Robert Callaghan to just walk back out on the street and become a no one. It was a decision he'd much later come to regret but at the moment nothing could've convinced him that he wasn't doing the right thing.

So he quit.

Logically he knew his father would never rehire anyone- no matter who they were or who they knew- so instead he did the next best thing- he started his own business and hired Robert as his partner and for a while it was awesome.

Then- like everything good in Alistair's life - it started falling apart.

It started with love.

They didn't know that then, of course, because overall they were both still incredibly happy. At least, they thought they were. Robert was, anyways, and Alistair couldn't remember a time that his friend looked so happy all the time.

"So what's her name?" Alistair asked one morning when Robert walked in with an especially sappy expression; startled eyes turned towards him and Alistair smirked at him because as much as the man likes denying it, Alistair has grown quite good at reading everything he doesn't say.

"Maria," Robert timidly responded as he blinked innocent enough eyes at his friend before he hurried on to explain, "I was going to tell you about her when I knew for sure that we were serious."

Alistair just raised his hand in a silencing motion before reassuring, "Don't fret over it. I understand. You weren't sure where this was going to take you."

Robert's shoulders relaxed as he nodded and breathed, "Thanks for understand but I really should've told you when it very first happened. You've always been there for me anyways."

"What's done is done," Alistair reassured as he crossed his arms and leaned against his desk as he asked, "So what is she like?"

"In a word- perfect," Robert gushed immediately, expression morphing back into one of a love-sick fool as he continued, "She has these eyes that are as bright as the moon and hair as soft as silk and her laugh- oh, her laugh is like a thousand songs."

"When did you get all poetic?" Alistair teased, cutting his friend off and Robert frowned at the remark.

"I'm still fully a man of science," he replied simply before adding almost offhandedly, "Just with a family."

And at the time they were both able to believe it.

Even after the forced confession, Alistair never actually got to meet Maria until after she became engaged.

The company was having a party to celebrate their most recent milestone- an Avatar prototype. In theory, the machine will be able to allow the user to flip from the Avatar plane to theirs without being the Avatar. It was going to be revolutionary, Alistair knew, and change the course of history forever.

It still had quite a ways to go, but they hit an important milestone in creating it and Alistair had still been trying to find an excuse to meet his partner's fiancé- having learned of their engagement two nights ago after it happened.

If he was honest then he'd realize that Robert hadn't been exaggerating all those times. Maria was a gorgeous woman, athletically built with long dark curls cascading down her back in a wonderful display and her eyes were warm and soft, like freshly baked cookies, and Alistair could see why Robert seemed so helplessly in love.

She was too, if they dewy expression she kept passing Robert was any indication.

"Hello," Alistair greeted, stepping up to them still holding his glass of champagne as he nodded towards Robert before turning his attention to the woman attached to his side and claimed, "You must be Maria. He talks quite a bit about you."

"He does not," she denied with a breathy laugh, ducking her head in embarrassment but Robert didn't bother denying it.

"Well, congratulations," Alistair told them before his eyes flittered down to the expensive diamond ring around Maria's finger and suppressed a frown.

"You too," she replied instantly, oblivious to the sudden change in Alistair's mood.

The one major thing Robert and Alistair never seem capable of agreeing on was the Bender Slave Mines several miles away from the city. They consisted of captured benders, unprotected by city law, and were then forced into dangerous work mining the very diamonds that sat around Maria's finger. Alistair wondered if she even knew.

If she didn't, he wasn't going to spoil the good mood and tell her so instead he flashed a smile in return as he nodded his thanks and turned to disappear.

"Alistair!" Robert called after him, probably picking up on the change though there was no way he could know what.

Alistair didn't slow down or stop. He didn't even make any indication that he had heard him as he set down his champagne glass a waiter's tray and left out the backdoor.

He knew, before they ever became partners, Robert's position against any and all benders. He despises them and Alistair's never been able to figure out why. All he knew was that Robert had sworn to not buy anything promoting the mistreatment of benders, had looked him in the eyes and promised him.

Alistair wondered how many other promises he had broken.

Maria Callaghan died seven years after little Abigail was born.

Alistair had been working into the late hours of the night when he received a call from a frantic Robert relaying the events. She'd been killed by a fire bender because of her ring- something both Alistair and Robert had warned her from wearing in public but since neither one of them could give her a good excuse on why, she did it anyways.

There had been a string of rebellions, strikes, from benders that were tired of being worked to death in the mines. From what Alistair had gathered, they had recognized the diamonds on the ring and killed the woman who had no idea what she had even been wearing.

It happened, thankfully, when Robert was out spending father-daughter time with Abigail so both of them were fine. Maria was less than lucky, though, and Robert was clearly distressed.

"Whoa. Calm down," Alistair protested with a shake of his head as he tried to calm the man over the phone, "Where are you now?"

"At the police station with Abigail. Alistair, I don't know how I'm going to be able to do this without her. Maria, she was my everything."

"Calm down Robert," Alistair soothed already grabbing his keys off his desk, "I'm on my way right now. We'll figure this out. Everything will be okay, you'll see."

"I don't think so," Robert denied as Alistair pressed the button to the elevator, "Maria will still be dead and it'll all be my fault."

"What? No it's not," Alistair reassured though the second the words left his mouth he knew it was a mistake.

"You're right. It's the fire benders' fault," Robert agreed almost a little too assertively as his voice changed from distraught to bloodthirsty, "and I'm not going to stop until they're all dead."

"Robert," Alistair snapped, drawing his friend back to the matter at hand, "We'll deal with that later. Right now, concentrate on Abigail, okay? She needs you to be strong."

"You're right," Robert said and Alistair could almost see him nod but there was something missing in his voice now. A fragment that hadn't been there before but Alistair pushed that thought away almost instantly because his friend and his daughter needed him and everything else could wait.

He shouldn't have let it wait.

Abigail was 19 when they finished what they dubbed the Avatar. She had also been working for them for a little over a year now and was the youngest employee they had.

It made sense at the time to strap her in the machine, and she agreed to it. Robert seemed unsure at first but there was no way he could say no to his daughter, and she seemed to really want to do it.

"Please daddy," she had begged with her hands laced in front of her chest as large brown eyes blinked up at her father, "I can do this. I want to do this."

He blinked at her before back at Alistair, who was standing near the back of the room with a silent expression. He had been the one to suggest the idea, Abigail all too eager to latch onto the idea and never let it go.

"Is it safe?" he asked and Alistair nodded.

"It will be when we strap her to it," he reassured, mentally going over the many tests they still need to run before they can use a human subject. They were nearing the end, though, and he could feel himself getting excited.

"I suppose so," Robert decided, shifting his gaze back to his daughter who made a happy little squealing noise before launching herself at him. She wrapped both her arms around his neck and squeezed as Alistair chuckled from across the room.

Ever since Maria's death it was a rare sight to see Robert smile and then it's only ever induced by Abigail. It was still a pleasant sight to see though.

Robert pulled away first, growing real serious all of a sudden as he turned to Alistair and said, "I'm putting my trust in you. Don't screw this up."

"Never," Alistair promised and three days later they were ready to finally test it.

Robert was standing at the door of the room Abigail was now in, lying on the white mattress as several electrodes were strapped to her skull. From where Alistair was perched in the operating room, he could see the bright smile spread across her features.

She was excited- not that he could blame her.

Alistair was excited too.

"You ready Abigail?" he asked, bending over so he could press the microphone button to the room as he did a quick check over all the controls.

Everything looked fine to him and the employee typing at the buttons as expert eyes checked to make sure everything was alright.

"Run a test run," Alistair commanded, as per procedure and Abigail blinked as the machine she was in vibrated slightly, glowing a faint white color.

It didn't do anything to affect her, though, ensuring that if something suddenly went wrong then she would be okay. It was one of the many reasons Robert agreed to it all in the first place, knowing that Abigail should've been safe in that room strapped to that machine.

"How are you doing?" he asked the girl, feeling his skin crawl in excitement as he realized they were dawning close to the product of many long hard years of late nights and failures. This was it.

"Wonderful though I must admit that seemed a little anticlimactic," Abigail chided and Alistair chuckled lowly.

"That was just a safety check. We're good up here if you're good down there," he responded and she nodded, swallowing in anticipation.

"Alright. Activate," Alistair commanded, stepping back to view his work.

"Uh… sir," one of the control guys said as he typed furiously at his dash, "There seems to be a minor malfunction with the machine."

"How minor?" Alistair asked, feeling his heart sink as he realized he might possibly have to shut everything down.

"Uh… not very major. Seems like there's just a problem with the shift," the guy explained and Alistair knew he had to make a quick decision.

"Continue as planned," he decided, straightening up his back and gazing out of the window at the girl still strapped to the machine.

Afterwards he'd check the machine and make sure everything was okay. At the moment, though, he was changing history.

The machine hummed and started to glow a faint white like it would when everything was functioning properly.

Three seconds later, everything went wrong.

Alistair isn't sure what, exactly. All he knew was that Abigail just started screaming as her body convulsed on the table. Her hands clenched up as her back arched, eyes and skin glowing a faint whitish color.

"Shut it down!" Alistair commanded as the glass started to fracture, spider webs of cracks spreading across the smooth surface.

Then, as quickly as it happened, it ended.

The white light died as did Abigail's screaming. Alistair blinked from where he was crouched over on the floor, looking over the dash to the small white room Abigail was lying in. She was still and paler than usual, her mouth still hanging open in a silent scream and he felt his heart sink in realization.

He didn't even need to hear Callaghan's sudden wails of despair to know what had happened. The machine worked but now Abigail was gone and there was no way anybody was going to let them continue the work. Not after today.

And it was all Alistair's fault.