"No one knows who this was," he admitted. "But, as you can see, there wasn't much to work with. Definitely a young man with what looks to be white hair. There was some kind of mark on his forehead, a black mark, but it was too damaged to be exactly made out. His skull alone took the examiners nearly an entire day to piece back together. The broken ribs…well, obviously they broke the wrong way. Up and out, through the skin of his chest. The police and examiners never really found his heart."

The administrators stared silently. Never before had something like this come in their way, and Dr. Naboru watched their minds reel. He understood how they felt. When he stepped into the room that had been so destroyed the day before he had felt his understanding of the world shift in ways he never could have imagined. He was a man of science, holding degrees from Tokyo University in psychology and neurology. Awards decorated his home office, awards for discoveries and breakthroughs, for humanitarianism, and for leadership in times of strife.

Now he stood, shaken and afraid, and asked intelligent men and women to see the same shaken, shifted world.

"Every bone," Dr. Naboru told them, "was broken. Shattered, really. The reports from the medical examiners say that they gave up trying to put him completely back together. This young man, whoever he was, took the brunt of the damage. He was the catalyst for whatever happened that night to those five other victims."

"Why?" someone whispered. It could have been anyone. It was written on all of their faces as they stared up at him. "Why would anyone do this?"

Dr. Naboru drew out one more picture and lay it down.